Those fingers tease down towards your sex so tentatively, doing your best to stop yourself from working faster, imagining another’s fingertips tantalising you, savouring your thrusts of desire. Longingly you trail downwards, casting a line of attention directly towards where he would want to focus on. You imagine his intentions, yet just the thought of him getting ready to pounce on you sends a rush through your body. The thought of him spreading your legs and eating you out until you were a screaming, begging mess of pleasure.

You’ve edged yourself many times, yet for some reason, today feels so much harder, as if the tightness of your lingerie makes you so aware of the parts it covers, so aware of how much others would want to strip you right now, to masturbate you relentlessly, to pin you down and take turns denying you until you were writhing in need. The idea of them all waiting and anticipating clamping their mouths around and burying their tongues within your dripping wet pussy makes you quiver on the verge of orgasm.

Finally, as you back off and begin again, your thoughts turn to your current situation, alone in the room and indulging so much on your pleasures and fantasies. The way you can make your own body feel so much, how you so relish the way you can torment yourself, to push yourself to the brink of what your sex can handle. The thought of how your own fingertips can make you moan in such ecstasy makes you almost wish you weren’t so cruel to yourself, just so you could feel that orgasmic release right this second.

You know you can’t hold your orgasm back much longer, you are going to allow yourself to come very soon, though the question is simply what thought is going to be the one that you come to.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Submission by: annabell-leigh

Your breasts, the centrepiece of your sensuality. A weapon of desire to use against you. How they encapsulate what I adore about your sexual essence, how I can focus on just this one area of your body and still have such a direct effect on your sex. Your body is made for such pure erotic exploration. Those soft, delicate curves that entice me so much, making me want to grope, fondle and caress them to my hearts content and to feel the slippery seduction of them coated in oil.

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Act III: Denial

The play had gained equal parts infamy and acclaim for its unflinching exploration and portrayal of human sexuality. While the plot traversed various time periods and scenarios, the explicit depiction of sexuality kept its many viewers engaged. Most notable was Act III, simply entitled ‘Denial’, which contained an extended period of orgasm denial for the scene’s leading actress. It was designed to represent the juxtaposition of society’s desire for female sexuality with its disposition to suppress it.

As the show became more popular, the strain on the cast became greater, as with any show. However, the lead actress for ‘Denial’ suffered the greatest. While the play itself featured such a long, extended duration of intense sexual activity, with her male counterpart making sure to keep her as tortuously close to orgasm as possible without sending her over the edge, the continuous run of the play was making it harder and harder to bear. In order to maintain the most believable and authentic performances, the director had made the actors consent to various things related to their performances; the female star of Denial had agreed to not orgasm at all throughout the entire run of the play. At first, the few weeks that it was scheduled seemed feasible, though now that it was already coming to the first month, with so many extra dates added, the torment she experienced on a near-nightly basis was hellish, as were the nights which she had off, the constant internal fight against her urges. Though at least the audience always had the most intense, rawest depiction of denial possible on stage. 

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Looking down, they both see what turns the other one, him watching his length being teased to the brink, her seeing her soft, slippery mound being lapped away at relentlessly. The impulse to keep watching the other’s torment, something which adds to that unyielding ache, is on par with the desire to win the game. It isn’t looking down and seeing their play partners’ mouths slowly tormenting them to the pinnacle that made holding back that much harder; what made it so much more difficult was thinking of how the other person felt. His hips would thrust with each thought of how her clitoris must be pulsing on the edge of orgasm as the girls sucked and licked so intently; her hips writhe with the thought of how it would feel to have tongues wrapping around that pulsing tip, feeling each inch of that length pulsating so closely to erupting. 

The highest pinnacle of sexuality. To imagine just how the other is feeling, such similar sensations in such different places. As pre-cum trailed down his shaft, as her juices trickled down her ass cheeks, they tried to hold on, willing the other to give in, knowing that soon one of them would succumb.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source (fellatio image): Klixen

Assorted Answered Asks

Here’s a few ask me anything’s that have been answered (see the AMA page for more or to ask your own – some updates coming soon too).

Can’t wait for the next passage of pleasure!

Certainly something I’m looking forward to working on (and reworking). I plan to utilise that interactive format a lot more.

would you ever consider making transcripts for your audio teases?

Yes, definitely – I tried running an audio tease through a transcript program recently however it didn’t turn out quite as planned. Though I do intend to create more written audio teases (along with some interactive visual audio teases).

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The Masseuse

If he knew how much he’d be internally screaming out with need for an orgasm, he’d have never denied himself for so long.

Having abstained from masturbation, he had decided to book a massage to unwind with his long-time masseuse, though never had he expected it to become so sensual. She would massage his body with the most tender touches, her hands so attentive as they caressed his back, arms and shoulders before moving to his legs. When she had done this before, there was only the slightest hint of sexuality, the lightest touch a little closer under the towel than he’d expected. This time, however, it was as if she knew that he had abstained for weeks and wanted him to suffer.

He wasn’t surprised when he turned up and found the masseuse with a female accomplice; often, the pair massaged him together. What did surprise him, however, was that the trainee focused only on his upper body while his masseuse concentrated only on his lower body. It was clear right from the beginning that she intended to make life as difficult as possible, to set his imagination alight. Instantly she brushed her hands up under the towel, sweeping along his buttocks, then his inner thighs, just enough to have his mind’s eye focused on his manhood which she was so close to. Her hands crept further and further upwards with every movement as she stroked along his upper legs.

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