Pins and Needles

When I was about nineteen, I had an erotic dream. My upbringing was somewhat sheltered and conservative, so even into my late teens, I wasn't very educated in matters of sex and sexuality, nor had I experimented much with masturbation.

But this dream--I knew from the moment I awoke, and even, in a sense, while I was still in it, that it was unquestionably erotic.

I remember it vividly, but in a slow stop-motion style:

I stood in a library scanning the shelves of the graphic novel and comic section for anything colourful that would catch my eye. I was lost in this for what seemed like several minutes when I felt a presence down the warmly lit aisle. With my fingers still held up to the spine of a small book tucked in its place, I looked toward what I assumed would be the figure of someone watching me. I was right.

The librarian had a short bob of red hair and a gentle smile, but her lips never moved to speak. She watched me silently and I gazed back at her waiting for...something. Finally, I turned to her and raised my hand to wave, but my arm didn't move. I looked down to find it hanging there lifelessly by my side. I was confused, but unafraid; her expression was so genuine and kind.

I then tried the other arm, but it too simply hung there.

All I could do was look at her. I examined the soft curve of her jaw; admired the small glint of light on her collar bone, and the ripples and folds of her partly unbuttoned white blouse; and licked my lips at the thought of her breasts hiding playfully underneath.

Then she stepped forward.

I suddenly felt warm.

She stepped closer again, breaking into a slow and sensual stride. My body tingled; I was hot and paralyzed. I felt no fear, only excitement.

When she finally came close enough to touch, she stopped, and stood there. Up close, her blouse seemed to have even fewer closed buttons than before. She cast her eyes down at my hands, then back at my face.

I wanted to reach up and put my hands on her hips. I wanted to pull her blouse apart, popping the final buttons, and grab her breasts. I wanted to take her round face in my hands and kiss her pink lips.

But my arms wouldn't respond.

Then I remember waking up.

But the dream still seemed to blur into reality. My arms felt numb and paralyzed, but I could feel the fabric of the pillowcase against my cheek. I knew I had been dreaming, but I still felt stuck.

When I lifted my head off the pillow and, with a struggle, opened my eyes to see my surroundings, I could tell I was lying on my stomach with both arms folded and tucked underneath my torso. My arms had gone numb, and I couldn't move them.

With some difficulty, I turned myself over and let them lay there on either side. The new blood rushing into them set off a fresh wave of tingling. Just like in the dream, all I could do was watch and wait.

It was still dark, but I craned my neck to look down at the length of my unmoving arms. It was then that I caught sight of the tenting sheet over my crotch and realized I was very hard.

Instinctively, I raised my hand to grab hold of it and wrestle it to submission; an erection like this always posed a welcome challenge. But my limb only vaguely responded, and the sensation of needles in my arm was intense.

I pushed through, shoved the sheet aside, and gripped my cock weakly. Each stroke sent a shockwave of painful tingles through my arm.

The librarian rushed back into my mind. I closed my eyes to imagine her before me again with all the details that I could remember: red hair, round face, white blouse, short skirt, gentle smile, warm gaze, pink lips...

I came. Semen rushed out of my cock and, due to my lack of motor-control and weakened grip, it sprayed in all directions over me.

Satisfied, I let my arm drop to my side and winced at the final shot of tingling pain as my hand hit the mattress. I ignored the wet mess and swiftly fell asleep again.

***

A few years later, in my small bachelor apartment, I lay awake in bed next to a girl. She slept against me on her side, with my arm around her. Her head rested in the crook of my shoulder, and her face laid softly on my chest.

We just had sex. She came while riding cowgirl, then fell down against me. Moments later, she lifted her hips and let me slide out of her, then she herself slid off my body to my right side and laid there against me.

"Mm, did you cum too, babe?" she asked with eyes closed, fingertips lazily brushing the base of my penis.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," I lied, and put my arm around her.

"Good, good." She pulled her hand up below her chin and fell asleep.

I laid there for a few minutes while my erection waned and watched the last of the summer night's sunlight fade behind the thin cotton curtains. When the room was dark, and everything sat barely visible, outlined only with a navy-blue glow, I tugged the empty condom off my dick and tossed it carelessly toward the small trash can in the corner of the room. I closed my eyes.

A nagging numbness kept me from sleeping. With eyes still closed, I realized I was losing sensation in my right hand due to the weight of the head resting on the shoulder above it. I shifted slightly, hoping to find relief, but to no avail. It seemed wrong to risk waking her by pulling my arm free--she felt so peaceful there against me, with her warm, steady breath flitting through the hairs on my chest. And the distinct feeling of her own bare chest pressed against me was never something to pull away from.

Yet another realization dragged me further from sleep: I was hard again.

I took my erection in my left hand, almost as if to confirm what the rest of my body was already telling me. It stood tall with a stiffness I hadn't yet experienced all night. I remained relatively still, with my head back and eyes closed, and stroked myself.

My arousal paralleled the spreading numbness in my right arm. As that hot, full sensation increased, so did the heat and pleasure in my cock.

I nuzzled the top of my girlfriend's head softly and smelled her fragrant blond hair: a mix of sweat, flowers, and sex.

I thought about the gorgeous view I recently had of her tits bouncing as she rode me; the way she flipped her hair forward, then back again as she approached her climax; the way her tummy undulated and her hips seized in my grip when she started to come, leaving her only capable of a stuttering grind against me. I remembered the way her ass filled my hands as I helped steady, lengthen, and deepen her motion against me to finish her off.

I tried wiggling the fingers of my right hand. They responded hesitantly and tingled hotly. The thumb of my left was becoming sticky with pre-cum.

While stroking my cock carefully, I placed my right hand gently on my girlfriend's naked butt. It felt strange and cold, but ultimately, I barely felt it at all. Unable to extend them properly, my numb fingers curled and crumpled against her supple flesh. Instead of feeling it dimple under my touch, it felt more as though it pushed me away.

Thinking then how I was pinned, trapped, temporarily paralyzed, I took a deep breath and prepared for the rush of orgasm. In an effort not to wake her, I fought the urge to stiffen my body or shake with pleasure.

Then it came. Hours of unreleased arousal finally shot hot streams of white cum straight up over the length of my body. I allowed only the gentlest groan to escape me, and I twitched when a warm droplet landed on the side of my nose, then again at the corner of my mouth. It had been a long time since I'd cum so forcefully, and I was pleasantly surprised.

The relishing was short-lived, however. Realizing the distance my cum would have had to cross to reach my face, my eyes shot open, and I held my breath. Surely, she would wake any moment to the feeling of hot semen running down her cheek, over her gently parted lips, or across her forehead and over the bridge of her nose. Maybe it coated her eyelids.

From my position, I couldn't see. I waited for a reaction.

My heart stopped when she lifted her head. As she paused there for a moment, I carefully pulled my right arm back and began the difficult task of preparing an apology and, worse, an explanation. But with a sigh, she fell back, her head landing comfortably on her waiting pillow, and slept soundly.

As my arm screamed with that loud, tingling sensation, I savoured the resolution of my orgasm and depravedly tasted the cum that lingered at the corner of my mouth.

***

And now, today, I sit much too casually at my desk. I'm leaning back in my office chair, and one foot rests up on the edge of the desk while I review a stapled bundle of papers.

Amani passes the open door to my office and catches sight of me on her way. She stops in the hallway and takes a step back to lean her head into my doorway. I can barely see it over the monitor of my computer; she's quite short.

"The budget approval. I need it now."

"Yeah, yeah. Five minutes."

She huffs, rolling her eyes, and continues on her way.

I tap the end of my pen against the papers and turn to the last page.

Having come back from the bathroom, I presume, Amani bursts through the doorway and stands impatiently in front of my desk.

"Well?"

"Jesus, Amani! Yes, it's fine."

"Then will you just sign it?" She gestures to the papers in my hand.

"I can't let you go that quickly. You never visit me anymore," I say with a smirk.

She blushes, trying to maintain her stern look.

"Yeah, it's because you're fucking slow," she says, grinning despite herself.

"Amani, please," I reply with a lecturing tone. "You know I take pride in my work and do everything I can to ensure the proper functioning of this company for the benefit of all who..."

She uses her hand to mime a flapping mouth while her eyes roll back in her head.

Amani is always so full of energy and hungry for banter. Though most haven't taken the time to see it, the hurried, hardworking demeanor has always been more about keeping her own chaotic self on track than intimidating others and climbing the ladder.

"...and therefore, I expect it to be understood that I will spend an appropriate amount of time with each budget proposal that crosses my desk," I conclude.

"Great." She leans forward, eyes wide and signaling to the papers.

"Just promise you'll come see me more."

"Yes, fine!" Her expression and stance soften. "Come on, you know I always want to. It's just so busy lately." She lowers her eyes.

"That's all I wanted. You can't expect me to get through my day having only Melissa here to keep me company." I tip my head to the other desk across the room.

"Ha-ha, fuck you too," grumbles Melissa.

With that, I finally pull my foot down off the desk in order to sign the papers, but it falls like a weight. The heel crashes down hard onto the wooden floor with a loud thud and the back of my chair pivots forward. As if the foot didn't belong to me, I feel nothing but an odd reverberation and sit stunned by what just happened.

"What the hell was that?" Amani asks.

"I...I think my leg fell asleep." I look up at her. She stands waiting in her white blouse.

"Well shake it off and sign the damn paper!" She steps around the side of my desk, snatches the budget out of my hand, and slaps it down on the desk in front of me.

I can feel my erection pushing up beneath my light grey slacks. I sit motionless.

"You're such a child." Amani steps behind my chair, puts her hands on the top of the back rest, and leans her body weight into it to roll me forward, closer to the desk, but the dead weight of my leg stops the chair well before it. Her open shirt collar brushes the back of my head, and her breasts press lightly against my shoulders.

I'm fully erect now. The pins and needles have begun their work. The hot tingling blooms in my toes, my ankle, and in my hip.

"You can do this, babe," she says, patting my head.

Looking at my hand, I see there's no pen. I must have dropped it.

"Oh my God," she sighs, and squats beside me to pick up the pen.

"No, no, it's fine, I can--" My arm moves to obfuscate the sight of my erection in her peripheral. As she stands again, I swipe the stack of papers from my desk and hold them awkwardly in my lap.

Amani takes my right wrist in her hand, claps the pen into mine, returns to her position behind my chair, and leans her head over my shoulder.

"Do it," she orders softly by my ear over the backdrop of the crackling static in my leg.

I steady the budget papers as best I can in my lap, trying to avoid brushing the head of my cock, or bumping it with my knuckles. In the end, it doesn't matter; the compounding sensations are all too much, and I'm about to cum.

Steadying my breathing, I focus on the paper before me, seeking a good space for my signature. While I hesitate, Amani reaches over my shoulder, traces a fingernail down the center of the pages in my lap, and gently taps a fingertip over the bottom right quadrant of the page. I can't tell if she knows she just stroked me.

"That's right. Just like that," she says encouragingly.

As I clumsily sign the page, my cock twitches in orgasm. Semen cascades down my shaft and over my balls. It saturates the point of contact between my dick and my pants. My face is flush and warm, and the tingling in my entire leg is unrelenting.

Amani snatches the budget papers out of my lap, and I quickly try to cover the soaking tent with my hands. I catch the warm scent of cum in the air.

She walks around to the front of my desk while studying the papers, and with a gentle, mischievous smile, inhales deeply through her nose.

"This is the worst signature I've ever seen."