Life on the Edge of Orgasm

By the way, it was the adoption that prevented Dad's family from taking me back to New Jersey following his death. I made a mental note to thank Virginia for that.

Chapter 3

Dr. Levinson, for some reason, wanted to see if I could regain some memories before seeing my family for the first time (I didn't), so she kept them waiting for three days before allowing them to visit. On the appointed day, I heard a knock on the door and watched three very attractive women walk into the room.

One was older than the others, tan, trim, blonde, amazing figure and very pretty, a lot like Nicole Kidman. The other two were about my age, both athletic and good-looking. Morgan was tall and slender, a real hardbody, like a volleyball player (which she was). Michelle, a brunette with beautiful long hair, was more compact; soft where it counted, but lean and strong, a tennis and soccer player with nice hips, a cute round butt, and an amazing pair of breasts. Both were pretty; Morgan with her sculpted cheeks, short blonde hair and long shapely legs could have been a model, and Michelle with softer features and bedroom eyes was a real beauty.

Rationally, I knew they were my mom and sisters; but I'd never laid eyes on them before. They saw me as family, but I immediately felt a strong sexual attraction to all three of these beautiful women. Because I had lived my whole life, as it were, on the edge of orgasm, and as my balls had been constantly crying out for relief, literally for as long as I could remember, the sight of these three lovelies produced an immediate, full erection which I think reached all the way to my belly button and beyond.

Virginia of course made a beeline for my bed, arms outstretched, big smile on her face, she leaned over and gave me a big hug, holding me close, those beautiful firm breasts pressed against my body; my cock was so hard, I thought it would break out of its skin.

It was a truly magnificent moment, but the next moment was even more magnificent. She pulled back from her hug, perched her lovely ass on the edge of the bed, and casually put her left hand on my stomach. My lower stomach. She did not expect to find my cock there, but her hand sure found it.

The result was the most profoundly intense orgasm in the history of the universe. God, it felt so damn good! I moaned; no it was more of a groan, or a cry really, a kind of prolonged cry of ecstasy. But in the context of the moment, Virginia heard it as a cry of pain, and believing herself to be the cause, jumped off the bed, fumbling for the nurse call button and apologizing hysterically.

Meanwhile, I was shooting weeks' worth of stored cum, shot after shot into the sheets. Because of my hip injury, I couldn't get a good pelvic thrust going; the best I could manage was sort of thrashing around a little. It probably looked like I was writhing in pain. Oh how I longed to grab my cock and finish the job properly! As I began to settle down, semen started soaking through the sheets. If Virginia realized what actually happened, she didn't acknowledge it. The nurse, hearing the commotion over the intercom, rushed in quickly.

I'm not sure how my family felt about our "first meeting," but I was ready to declare total victory. I shall remember that orgasm forever.

Wanda, whom I'd not met before, was the nurse who responded to the call. She was all right, middle aged and plump, but a great temperament and good sense of humor. She had been on the job a long time and seen it all, so even though it was an embarrassing situation, she put me at ease pretty easily. One look at the sheets and she knew exactly what had happened and why; teenage boy unable to masturbate for weeks on end. She knew I'd have a hair trigger and virtually no control.

In fact she said all this to me as she rolled up the stained sheet and started the cleanup. It was a real mess, cum all over my stomach and most of my chest, and of course, my privates.

I said, "It's kind of embarrassing when your mom makes you..." I paused, unsure of the proper terminology in this context.

Wanda provided the word, "ejaculate."

"Yeah, ejaculate." The two of us talking about ejaculation struck us both as funny, and we had a pretty good laugh over it.

Wanda was taking special care to clean my penis and balls very thoroughly. I think she was enjoying herself, and I was fine with that. She took my half-hard dick in her hand and started to squeeze from the base up to the head, milking all the remaining cum out of my cock. She was handling it probably a bit more than medically necessary, and it started to stiffen up.

Damn it felt so good, I thanked her. For every stroke, I just said "oh, thank you." My dick kept getting bigger and harder until I had another full blown erection.

Up to that point we were having a nice conversation. Nice lady, but I wouldn't have been the least bit attracted to her, were it not for her hands on my genitals. Funny how that works. As we spoke, Wanda was kind of absent-mindedly stroking me lightly with her fingertips. It felt fantastic, and I was really hoping for a hand job, but I didn't say anything for fear of spoiling the moment. She suddenly realized what she was doing, and her face flushed with embarrassed. She became very business-like, changing the linens, checking IV's and the machines, until she was satisfied that everything was as it should be. Meanwhile I had a good head-start on another case of blue balls.

Once Wanda had me all situated, she sent my family back in. The remainder of the visit was a little awkward, like we were in two different conversations. For them, I was the brother/son just awakened from a coma following a fatal traffic accident. They were naturally overjoyed that I was alive and awake, but not quite sure how to handle the amnesia. As for me, I was meeting 3 total strangers for the first time; three totally hot strangers, all of whom would soon be my housemates.

I'd decided to call Virginia "Mom" from the get go, whether or not I actually meant it. I did feel a special closeness to her, partly because she was responsible for my very first orgasm (at least, the first I could remember), and partly because she was just so damn hot. So yeah, I pretty much loved her right from the start, although probably not the kind of love she was expecting. She kept her distance for the remainder of that first visit, being a bit unnerved by the "hand-job incident," as I liked to think of it. My sisters were really very nice, but the incident had also made them pretty nervous.

As they were leaving, Mom casually remarked that Lydia would be coming by tomorrow after school, and how excited she would be to see me. My blank expression reminded her that I wouldn't have a clue who this "Lydia" is.

She explained, "You and Lydia have been dating for about two months now, and she really likes you; do please try to be kind, even though I know you won't recognize her." My first thought was, "Yes! I've got a girlfriend." Then it hit me, I had no idea just where our relationship stood.

Chapter 4

That night, Nurse Martha came in and introduced herself, not realizing I already knew who she was. We traded some small talk, then I decided to drop the bomb.

"I remember the last time you were in here; that was the night I woke up."

"No Honey, that was a dream. People always dream weird stuff when they start coming up out of a coma."

"I know your two rules." I thought that would get her attention.

"Like I said, sweetie-pie, you been having a lot of weird dreams." Remarkably cool under pressure.

"I heard you tell Rosie."

Now she just looked at me without speaking, her face a blank slate. Seconds ticked by.

I broke first, playing my hole card, "The rules are, don't get in trouble, and don't make 'em cum."

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, but still wouldn't speak.

I said, "It's ok, don't worry, I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Pretty sure you can't get me in trouble." Calm as a Hindu cow. This lady was unflappable.

"That's good. Because I like you, you're a nice lady, I really don't want you to get in trouble." I know I sounded sincere, because I really was sincere; I would get no enjoyment from seeing her disciplined.

She kept eyeing me, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. No doubt she figured I was going to ask for some kind of sexual favors. I'd thought this through. I figured if I made a report, it could easily be dismissed as a dream. But I knew I wasn't the only coma patient she'd serviced; an investigation might turn up more violations, or at best, they might start watching her a little more closely. That would surely interfere with her little fetish. I knew she was smart enough to know all that. So while I did have some leverage on her, it wasn't a great deal of leverage.

Several minutes of silence passed between us, each eyeing the other. I made a mental note never to play cards with Martha.

Finally she spoke. "Go on," she said. I knew that meant I'd won; all that remained was negotiating the price.

"I know you don't like cum, and you don't like men who beg or make demands. I'm okay with all that. I'm not asking for more than you were already doing. Just keep doing it."

At that moment, Rosie entered the room. She hesitated a moment, feeling the tension in the atmosphere.

She started to introduce herself, but Martha interrupted, saying, "Oh, you two met already, last time we were in here." It took a minute for that to sink in, then Rosie's eyes widened.

"Oh, shit," she said. "Please don't get me in trouble," she pleaded, "I really need this job." Practically throwing all her cards on the table right up front. In a poker game, Martha would totally have cleaned her out in no time flat.

Martha filled Rosie in on our conversation so far. Rosie was confused; she asked, "You mean, you want a hand job, but you don't want us to, you know, finish you off?"

I nodded.

Martha didn't trust me; she tried to call my bluff. She knew how embarrassing that report would be, if nobody believed me. "Won't be long, you'll be wanting more," she said, "Might as well make that report now and get it over with."

"Wait!" Rosie was frantic; she knew her job was not nearly so secure as Martha's. "Please don't report me, I'll do anything." After a brief pause she added, "Everything," lowering her eyes and hanging her head.

I realized she meant what she said; she was offering herself to me without limits. It's not a bad feeling, that kind of power, but it didn't really appeal to me at that moment.

"No," I said, "Like I told Martha, nothing more than you've already done." Martha was still skeptical.

I explained my discovery that, when you want to cum, NEED to come so badly, if you concentrate, it begins to feel like one long extended orgasm. While not nearly as intense as the orgasm that accompanies ejaculation, it can happen over and over, and last a long, long time. I wasn't nearly so articulate at the time; I don't remember my exact words, but I wasn't getting my point across. Then I told them about my earlier accidental orgasm, how utterly earth shattering it was.

"And you don't have to worry about that part," I said, "I found out today that I have a girlfriend!"

"Lucky girl," said Rosie, "bet she's pretty."

"I couldn't say, I haven't met her yet. So, how about it? Do we have a deal?"

Martha said, "Let's go over this again; you don't report us, and we tease your willie?"

"It has to be every night, or at least, whenever you have a shift. As often as you were doing it before. As much teasing as I can stand, plus some," I replied.

"And if you so much as hint at anything more, we walk away and never touch you again."

"Agreed."

I figured Rosie would get me off; after all, I heard her tell Martha how much she enjoyed it. Without another word, Martha lowered the sheet and started to raise my gown.

"Just a second," I said.

She paused, "What now?"

"I want my hands restrained."

Martha and Rosie looked at each other and nodded, some unspoken understanding passed between them.

"Kinky," said Rosie, as they began strapping my arms to the bed. I was so hard by this time. I mean, how could I not be? Martha oiled up her hands and began to stroke slowly, deliberately. I just sighed.

After a few minutes she stopped, saying, "We still have other patients to care for, but we'll be back to check on you later."

After a little while, Rosie came in alone, pulled the sheet back slowly, and stared at her prize for a minute or two. She started playing with it, touching it lightly at times, gripping with all her strength at others. She started rubbing the underside with two fingers, fast. I was approaching orgasm. "She's decided to make me cum!" I thought happily. Just as I was reaching the peak, she stopped, pulled her hands away, and watched my cock twitching like crazy. She really got a kick out of that. She started handling my balls, touching lightly then randomly squeezing down hard with her thumbs, causing me to gasp. After a few minutes of that game, she clamped down and started increasing the pressure. When my eyes grew wide and I started groaning, she squeezed just a little harder, then let go suddenly and gave my cock 3 or 4 hard, fast strokes.

Once again, I thought she was going to let me come, but instead she just laughed at my twitching cock and said, "Sorry, got work to do," and hurried out the door.

All night, Martha kept coming in every couple of hours to check my vitals and slowly stroke my cock, expertly stopping just when I thought I was going over the edge. Rosie always followed after 15 or 20 minutes, playing with me, edging me repeatedly, and seeing just how hard she could squeeze my balls before I spoke up. Just before their shift ended, they came in together and teased me to one more edge before releasing my restraints. God how I wanted to jerk off, but both hands in casts, I could only barely touch myself with the tips of my fingers. That pretty much describes most every night for the remainder of my stay. I began to think of Martha and Rosie as the "Cock Teasing Crew."

Chapter 5

Mom came in early the next morning, before going to work. She was some kind of high-powered Executive Vice President and man! She could make a business suit look s-e-x-y. She came over for a hug, leaned over and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close and smashing her breasts against me. I hugged her right back, holding her close for as long as she would stay. I noticed she avoided touching my stomach this time.

Soon Amy arrived for my sponge bath. My dick was rock-hard the whole time; I thought I should be embarrassed, but I just wasn't. I liked being naked with her, but decided it was best not to say so. Amy was nice, but professional and business-like. When she soaped up my dick, I gasped whenever she hit the sensitive spots.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's ok," I replied, "it doesn't hurt, but I am a little sensitive right there."

"I'll be careful."

Finally, late in the afternoon, the door opened and a young lady about my age came in. I knew from the look on her face, this was Lydia. Now, I don't want to be unkind, but my first reaction was, "I surely could have done better." I managed to hide my disappointment, I'm pretty sure. She was skinny as a rail, no breasts to speak of, big librarian glasses and a nose only a mother could love. I thought, "She must give one hell of a blow job, for me to be with her." Shallow, I know, but this was new territory for me.

We started talking, mostly about mundane stuff; she seemed ill at ease, not at all like a girl whose boyfriend had just rejoined the ranks of the living. No hug, no kiss, not even trying to hold hands. And it's not like I enjoy sympathy or anything, but I did think that a girlfriend would be at least a little bit sympathetic. I began to think something might be wrong with her, which said a lot about my former self.

Finally I said, "Lydia, you know I've lost a lot of memories."

"Yes, they told me that."

"So I don't know, what sort of, you know, how far along...our relationship..."

"Well, we had only just agreed to be exclusive, really."

"I was kind of wondering about the...physical aspects..."

She blushed, deeply, it really embarrassed her. But I pressed on, I couldn't help it, my poor blue balls were very insistent.

"It's just that," I began, "you know, I don't have use of my hands, you know."

She gave me a blank look. Clueless.

I continued, "I can't use my hands for anything, and it's been such a long time since...I could use my hands..." She still wasn't getting it. "I can't use my hands, and its causing a bit of a problem, I was thinking maybe I could ask you for help." I could tell she was trying, but just not understanding.

"I can call for your nurse," she offered.

"Oh no, I mean, thanks but the nurse can't help with this."

"Of course I'll do whatever I can, just tell me what you need," she said.

Okay, now at last we're getting somewhere. But she continued just sitting there with a questioning look on her face. She STILL wasn't getting it. At least, I had the answer to my question about our physical relationship. But I was desperate, and decided what the heck, you'll never get what you need if you don't ask.

"I need you to pull back the sheet for me, please," I told her. She stood and slowly pulled the sheet down to my waist. "At least down to my knees, Hon." She smiled when I called her "Hon," and peeled the sheet on back. Now there's no way that hospital gown was hiding the fact of my erection, it was so obvious, but Lydia seemed oblivious.

"What else can I do for you, sweetie?" she asked.

"If you don't mind, would you please pull this gown up?"

"Of course," she replied as she grasped the hem and peeled it back to about my knees.

"A little more, please, babe," I told her. She complied, we're up to mid-thigh. Finally I just asked her, "Lydia would you please just lift it all the way up?"

She gave me a strange look, and I could see the light bulb going on in her head. She blushed again, a deep crimson red.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, laughing a sort of nervous giggle.

"Please?" I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes.

She took a deep breath and drew my gown up, exposing all my goods. Her eyes got big as saucers and her jaw just about hit the floor. She studied my cock, bending over for a closer look, for maybe two full minutes.

"I've never seen one of those before," she said softly. But her demeanor changed suddenly as she became indignant. "Stephen Wood, if you think I'm going to touch that thing...," at a loss for words, she just turned on her heel and walked out. Leaving me exposed, I might add. Luckily, my hands were no longer bound so I could cover up. I guess that was the end of our relationship. But she knew what was under my gown when she pulled it up, so she was hardly blameless.

Chapter 6

My daily routine was established, with the Cock Teasing Crew getting me worked up all night, Mom coming by before and after work, and a sponge bath every morning after breakfast. It was nearly always Amy, and I really looked forward to it. The tension in my balls was really starting to mount. The doctors came in on their rounds at seemingly random times, and I had some procedure just about every day, like x-rays or physical therapy, so it wasn't really all that boring. Mom brought in a laptop, which was really cool, but I knew the hospital servers would block porn, and record all my google search terms, so I had to get along without pornography.

The real problem was that I could not jack off because of the casts on my hands, and relief was nowhere in sight. I mentioned it to Rosie one night, remembering what she'd told Martha. In response, she said nothing, but took her hands off my cock, grabbed my balls and pulled them away from my body roughly. She pulled a tourniquet out of her pocket, the kind they use to draw blood, bound my balls up tight with it, and grabbed my cock, squeezing hard. I thought she was going to use some kind of exotic technique to give me a more explosive orgasm.