I’m a greedy person. If I’m given an inch I want a mile, and this includes orgasms. I have to have one every morning before I get out of bed and jump in the shower, but also I find after a good fuck if I’m all hot and aroused I still want more … even when my cunts sore and my stomach muscles ache from countless cums beforehand.
I’m lucky that I find it easy, my middle finger on my right hand can swirl round my clitoral hood in steady circles to lift me to the point of orgasm easy unless something stops or interrupts my flow. Here I have to hold my hand up and admit I’m bad at edging. Too greedy, too quick to fall into that wave that crashes through my body. Too tempted to jump into that swelling sea that rushes up to engulf me. I can do it but the effort is huge and my frustration rises rather than excitement.
Yet, when I’m not in control this flips. When I’m edged by someone else the build up and the rush of the missed wave does excite me. The struggle of being held back, of having to wait floods me, until I’m finally allowed to rise to the pinnacle, then the intensity slams through my whole body with force.
Take control and make me wait for
“Patience is bitter, but it’s fruit is sweet” Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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