He was trapped between two worlds, one of words and one of being. In her words he watched himself helplessly chained to her bed as she teased him with her body like no woman ever had the comfort to do before. She teased him with her round swaying breasts, and with the slow teasing removal of her clothes.
In his other world he lay back in his office chair with his pants down and his shirt spread open slowly rubbing his hard penis that throbbed eagerly as he read her words.
In her words, she delighted him with the teasing sight of playing with her soaking clit slowly rubbing it while he remained frustratingly unable to reach for her and satisfy all the thoughts flying through his head.
In his world, the image of her playing with herself was starting to begin to make him lose all control of the feelings between his balls. How did she know this would affect him so? Had he confessed it in something he wrote? The image was so vivid in his mind; it was driving him out of control. Part of him wanted to retain the control he normally had over himself and part wanted to fully surrender to the images she painted. He leaned back further and marveled at the image of how fat the head of his penis had become as it slipped through his fingers. He reached down and began to rub his tight balls beginning to moan to the feeling.
When the title of her words said, “Part 3 – Climax” he gave out a little laugh, thinking “yes” and wondered if she knew her images of playing with herself had already given him so much pleasure and made him loaded and ready.
In his world he tried to lean back and further slowed his stroke to try to last longer, something he should have done sooner.
When he imagined her words describing her rubbing and sucking him while he helplessly watched, it drove him out of the realm of control. The image was so real to him, and she already had him full and ripe.
In his world, he bent forward and partially sat up when he reached the brief moment of ecstasy between when his body orgasmed and when the torrent of semen shot from him. The first jet landed on his jaw and the others spread down his chest. He felt bad to have rushed such great pleasure but one look at the clock reminded him that he had other responsibilities.
Her words were ready to continue the fun, but he had to tell her of his problems.
Then his mind and words came to bear on the image of her slowly climbing up his chest and releasing his chains. He imaged the surge of taking hold of her and bringing their lips together, kissing her neck, sucking her breasts, and slipping his hands beneath her thighs as a hint to draw her up to sit on his face. He imagined the instant when she arrived.
In his world, the short rest his penis took was already ended by his thoughts. To his surprise and delight it became hard again. But he knew he had to clean up and stuff it away. Leaving her words was difficult and sad to have to do.
****
That night when he reached home there was still a heavy feeling between his legs. The quick beating in his chest assured him that something was going on. When he reached his bedroom and got ready for bed, his semi erect fattened penis made it clear no one was going to sleep any time soon. He turned off the lights and spread himself on the bed. Just a few quick images of her words had the feeling flowing again. This time there would be no rush. He slowly stroked his rock replaying the images of her masturbating herself. “Ummmmm, yeah.” He remembered her words and imaged her now sucking his head as she rubbed his staff, ”Ohhhh Yeah.” The thought began to fill him, but he refused and backed off thinking about it.
He ran his hand over his full length admiring how hard the images had made him. He stood his dick up and then watched it slap to his belly over and over watching it grow harder. He rolled and pulled at his balls slowly watching, enjoying, every minute of the feeling. He went on like this for an hour, bringing himself to the edge and then backing off his strokes and his thoughts of her images.
Then he allowed himself to pump himself quickly. He wanted to take it right to the full edge and back off. It felt so good that his arse and thighs began to quiver. Stopping and holding back was difficult but joyous when he felt his throbbing hardness ready to fire, but under his control.
He got up and went to the bathroom and its full-length mirror. He stood profiled and watched his hand glide over his length trying to imagine her words about sucking and rubbing it. He bent his knees and began to give into the images, her playing with herself, “yes”, her teasing him, “yes” her mouth on him, “oh yes”, and her wetness on his face, ”ummmmm, yes”. Then he turned to face the mirror and watched his plump head slide in and out of his fingers, wishing it were her fingers in the story.
He dovetailed the fingers of his hands together and surrounded his shaft with it and squeezed each stroke imagining a new story of pounding her wetness. Something about watching his head appearing out of his fingers excited him and without any preparation he came again in robust white streams. After cleaning up, he returned to bed too exhilarated to sleep, remaining naked wanting the feel of the sheet on his naked body.
****
In the morning, through one eye, he saw that he was late, but he didn’t want get up. A story had begun writing itself in his head and he lay there trying to remember it as it played out. In the story he would tell her in his words how her words had affected him. He got up with the story still writing itself. His body unconsciously went through the motion of getting into the shower and washing his hair, while his mind was busy elsewhere experiencing the story of the events of the previous day.
When the retelling reached his wish that her story had continued to her writing about what she would do while sitting on his face, he was brought back to the shower by a compelling feeling in his balls. He looked down to see to his amazement that he was half hard and fat again, and that his balls were already tight and ready to fire.
There was no question of ignoring it despite being late, again. He added lotion, rubbed it firmly, felt it growing into steel, and it only took a few moments until he surrendered to full release with no thought of holding back. He felt a strange pleasure as he watched the white streams of semen shoot out of his penis and blend into the water of the shower.
Part of him was baffled at the events. Part of him panicked, “This is crazy! This is crazy!” It had been years since he had cum so much in so short a time with or without a partner. What was happening to him? He thought badly of himself for being so easy. Why did her words have such an effect, greater than other erotica or porn had ever had?
“This is crazy! This sort of thing just doesn’t happen!” part of him cried. But as he watched the shower wash off the remnants of semen from his hands and fat red head, he knew they did happen.
