The Limits of Imagination Ch. 07

"Mmm...fuuuck!" Jack was unable not to vocalise his second orgasm. Fighting the instinct to bury himself deep, he left only the head of his dick inside her ass as he came; he knew it wouldn't be a big load, but he wanted to watch it escape from her ass like his first had dripped from her pussy. When his cock ceased pulsing, he removed it, savouring the pull as his flared head popped free of her sphincter. Her anus remained open, twitching, but barely closing a millimetre, so used to having first the plug and then his cock holding it open. Moments later, the first trickle of semen emerged, seeping over the rim and beginning a slow journey down towards the bed. Reaching out, Jack ran a finger tip around the circumference of her open asshole, then, inspired by that same kinky side that first responded to Elle's post, inserted two fingers into her, confirming that they no longer touched the sides.

Withdrawing his fingers - Elle still oblivious to their presence inside her - he said, "You can let go now."

Elle released her grip on her knees and lowered her feet back down to the bed.

"You can take off the blindfold too."

She did, stopping short of pulling it off entirely, leaving it over her forehead.

"Will you take this out of me?" Jack asked.

Elle nodded and indicated that he should turn around, which he did, remaining on his hands and knees and presenting her with his backside. Slowly, she fought her protesting muscles and sat up. Sliding her fingers between the base of the plug and his backside, she pulled gently. Jack's hole, still clamped down after two orgasms, put up a valiant fight, but ultimately succumbed. The large plug popped free, eliciting a grunt from Jack. Unprepared for its swift emergence, Elle lost her grip of the slick glass and it fell to the bed. She ignored it, staring instead at his hole as it slowly closed.

"How do you feel?" she asked as he turned around to face her.

"Pffff," came Jack's reply as he settled down cross-legged on the bed, "I'm not sure I can describe it. I've never cum twice in one go before. You?"

"Well fucked," Elle replied after considering for a few moments. Then she asked, "Actually, I think I need to see something."

She turned, searching for something on the bed beside them. She found it lying behind her, the plug that until recently had been locked inside her ass.

"I want to see how big this got inside me." She held the base of the black plug in her left hand and the squeeze bulb in her right, connecting tube dangling in an arc between the two. She squeezed once, watching as the plug increased in size a tiny amount. "How many times did you pump it?"

"I can't remember. Maybe seven?"

Elle squeezed the bulb six more times in quick succession. When she stopped, the plug was unrecognisable. What before looked like any other regular, slim butt plug now more closely resembled a black globe. It was almost perfectly spherical, apart from the stem connecting it to the base in Elle's hand, and roughly the size - to Elle's eye - of a large grapefruit, or a small melon.

"Holy shit, no wonder I felt full!"

"Yeah, I could feel it inside you," Jack said, staring at the inflated plug as Elle found the release valve and it returned, hissing, to its regular size.

"I felt that too," said Elle. "How did you like yours?"

Jack considered for a moment, his face screwing up as he searched for a way to describe what he'd felt. "It hurt at first," he said finally, "but once it was in it felt...good. Really good actually." His cheeks flushed as he continued, "And it felt amazing when I came. Like it...supercharged everything."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Elle grinned, glancing down at the glass plug lying beside Jack's hip. "Speaking of which actually." Her head perked up like she'd just remembered something. "I have an idea for next time."

"Oh really?" Jack asked, feigning hesitation and wariness.

"Yes, but it will be better if we spend the weekend together and....I'm not sure with Jenn around..."

Jack figured what she was trying to ask without asking and cut her off. "Come stay over here for the weekend then. Much less chance of being interrupted," he grinned.

"Really?" Elle asked excitedly. "Great! There's just one thing though." She paused, waiting for Jack to say something. When he didn't, beyond simply raising his eyebrows like he couldn't believe she'd ask for something more, she continued carefully, watching his reaction to each word, "You can't touch yourself. Your...penis I mean." Jack's eyes went wide as she said that. "For the whole week."

"The whole week?" Jack asked in disbelief. "You want me to not touch my dick for a week? What about going to the toilet?"

"You can just sit down. I'm sure it's possible. Just trust me," she added when Jack began to shake his head, "it'll be worth it. Just try not to touch it and definitely no...playing with it." The cheeky smile returned to her face as her mind conjured up an image of Jack trying desperately not to masturbate his stiff prick.

"Okay," Jack finally agreed, shaking his head slowly, looking resigned to whatever fate Elle had planned for him, "I'll try." It wasn't going to be easy though. Nevermind pissing, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gone longer than three days without wanking.

"Trust me," Elle repeated, sliding off the bed in search of her underwear.

***

By Friday night Jack could barely hold himself together.

Fuck, I just want to touch it, he thought as he pulled his pants down and sat down on the toilet to piss, a familiar routine since Elle left last week Saturday.

"Remember, no touching," she'd warned him, just before pulling his front door shut behind her.

It had been easy to follow her command that first night. After fucking her twice, first in her cunt and then in her gaping ass, he doubted his dick would even respond to his touch. Now though, six nights later, it took every ounce of willpower to resist the temptation.

Standing to pull up his pants, he had to pull the waistband out to get it over his semi-engorged cock. It seemed to be in that state a lot recently. In fact, he couldn't recall the last time it had been completely flaccid. Monday night maybe? The last few days, if it wasn't half hard it was rock hard, desperate for contact. The slightest thing seemed to trigger an erection, the fabric of his underwear rubbing a particular way as he walked, the spray of the shower in the morning, every stray thought of Elle that popped into his head. Now though, it was the subtle vibration of the zip at his crotch as he pulled it closed. Even before he'd done up the button to close his pants he was hard, cock straining against its cotton prison.

His balls ached too. He'd first noticed that on Tuesday morning when, as usual, he'd woken with an erection. As he'd reached down to give it a quick tug, Elle's words played through his mind, stopping his hand just before his fingertips made contact with his throbbing cock. As he drew his hand back from under the covers, he became aware of the dull ache in his balls. It was subtle, but definitely real. He'd experienced something like it before when, after an evening of heavy foreplay after a particularly successful first date, his prospective partner had called an unexpectedly abrupt end to their play. Of course, he'd swiftly taken matters into his own hands and relieved that particular ache.

Now it was four full days since the ache began - six since he'd last touched himself - and his balls felt as though they'd been kicked. All he had to do, he thought for the thousandth time that day, was wrap his fingers around his cock and stroke up and down a couple of times - in his ultra-aroused state there was no question of lasting longer than that - and his tortured testicles would resume their regular, content state.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Just one more night, he counselled himself as he left the bathroom and headed downstairs in search of a distraction. As he reached the living room his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Elle:

I'll come around 4 tomorrow.

Followed quickly be a second text.

Can you remember what your cock feels like?

***

Jack was hard before he had the door open. Elle glanced down at the tent in the front of his jeans as she stepped into the hallway, smirking as she slid off her shoes.

"You had a good day?" she asked nonchalantly.

Jack had spent the entire morning trying and failing to distract himself from his desperate arousal. It had been an entire week since his dick had felt any human touch and it seemed to have developed an erratic mind of its own. It had grown hard as he was taking the recycling out to the curb just after breakfast. Then again ten minutes later when he'd accidentally dropped the TV remote into his crotch as he tried to distract himself by watching Netflix. Cooking lunch took his mind off his cock for a short while, but then, as he lifted the heavy mortar bowl, his mind flashed to walking around Borough Market with the steel weight on his balls and he was rock solid and throbbing in an instant. That pattern had continued right up until now when the ringing doorbell had set him off once again.

"Sure," he shrugged. He certainly wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of begging.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Elle stepped up close and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in close and kissing him deeply, her tongue probing adventurously into his mouth. Jack was vividly aware of his erection pressing hard against her thigh.

"Let's take care of that," she said as she released him. "Did you follow my instructions?"

"Of course I did." He felt a tinge of hurt that she'd even ask.

"I knew you would." She took his hand and led him through to the living room and over to the sofa. "I'm sure it wasn't easy too. You must be about to burst."

"You have no idea," Jack said as she gestured for him to sit down. The ache in his balls had continued to grow since he'd first noticed it on Tuesday. Now it was a constant presence; a painful, throbbing reminder that he hadn't cum in a week.

Elle stood between his legs. Bending over at the waist - giving him a view down into the neck of her top - she grasped his shirt and pulled it off over his head. She then knelt down, still between his legs, and popped open the button of his jeans, glancing coyly up at him as she slid the zipper down one tooth at a time, enjoying the desperation written all over his face. She peeled back the open flaps of denim and was greeted by a large wet patch covering the front of his blue briefs - Jack's cock hadn't stopped leaking since his balls had begun to ache. Leaning forward, she gently licked her tongue across the sticky fabric. The cock beneath lurched in response.

She quickly slid his jeans and briefs over his hips and off, leaving him completely naked before her. His stiff prick reached for the ceiling, a think pearl of precum dripping down the front of his swollen head. Jack stared longingly at it, willing her to wrap her lips over the head. Elle didn't comply though.

She did, however, reach out and trace her finger - with frustrating delicacy - over the tip of his oozing slit, down through the bead of precum and along his shaft to his balls.

"How do these feel?" she asked, cupping the swollen sack in her palm as if testing their weight. "Do they hurt?"

Jack could only nod, so shocked at the return of stimulus to his most sensitive organs. Releasing his balls, Elle smeared the copious fluid drooling out of his slit over his engorged glans, so swollen it was shining. The slick precum provided the perfect lubrication for her to wrap her hand around the head and rub it around in a circular motion. Jack tensed at the sudden stimulation. He cock was so bereft of sensation that this simple motion was almost overwhelming, verging on painful. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, gasping.

Elle felt his reaction and ploughed on, continued to massage his sensitive crown with her slippery palm, like she was polishing it to a mirror sheen. He was leaking so profusely that she never felt the need to lubricate her hand. As she continued, Jack's gasps turned to desperate moans - of pleasure or pain, she couldn't tell.

"Tell me when you're about to cum Jack," she instructed firmly.

"Uh huh," he responded through his clenched jaw. His hips had lifted up off the couched he was gripping the fabric of the sofa tightly. This was exactly how Elle wanted him. Pure desperation.

Just as he began to whimper, she removed her hand. Jack moaned loudly at the sudden loss of sensation, thrusting his hips forwards as if the lightest movement of air across his sensitive nerves would tip him over the edge. Elle grinned at the sight. Eventually, he calmed and lowered himself back down into the cushions. Opening his eyes, he fixed Elle with a gaze that would have made even the most irresistible puppy jealous.

"Not yet Jack," she said, reaching out a finger and softly stroking his shaft, looking him in the eyes. "And don't forget to tell me when you're about to cum," she reminded him, "I want to be warned."

Jack rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the sofa back. This was torture. And he was loving every second of it. He didn't want it to end, but he was desperate to cum, needed it more than he needed his next breath.

Elle curled her fingers around his shaft and began to stroke slowly up and down, stopping before her fingers slipped over the ridge of his glans - the most sensitive spot on his body - and pressing down firmly into his groin. The sensation was less sharp than when she'd been rubbing his head. Nevertheless, as she continued the rhythm, Jack felt the pleasure building once again. Taking her eyes off his cock, Elle watched Jack's body reacting to what she was doing. His fingers still clenched tightly to the sofa cushions. His thighs tensed up every time her thumb and forefinger pressed up against the ridge of his glans, relaxing when she began the next downstroke. His breath now matched the rhythm of her hand: in on the upstroke, out on the downstroke, in, out, up, down. It was as if his entire body were under her control. At her mercy. She lost track of time as she marvelled at the power she had over him.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum Elle!"

Jack's warning snapped Elle out of her reverie and she released his cock immediately, pulling her hand away in an instant and leaving him pumping thin air once again, watching his cock twitch uselessly.

"Nnnnngg, no!" Jack groaned.

The sudden loss of sensation left him on the brink of release - like a rocket losing power mere moments before it can breach through the atmosphere. Just as orgasm was about to to course through his body, Jack felt it fading quickly away. In desperation he reached for his cock. Just one more stroke and he'd be there!

Elle reacted immediately, grabbing his wrists and pressing his hands into the sofa, coming up off her knees to add her bodyweight to the fight. Jack continued to thrust his hips and tried to wrestle his hands from her tight grasp for a few seconds, but it was already too late. He'd fallen too far back from the precipice. Giving up, he sighed deeply and Elle felt his body shudder and relax beneath her, his breath ragged. Only then did she release his wrists and fall back onto her haunches, watching carefully in case he tried again to take matters into his own hands. He didn't have the energy though. A fine sheen of sweat covered his entire body and a steady stream of fluid dribbled down his shining shaft and over his balls, which now ached even more than before.

Elle smiled at the sight, feeling the moisture gathering between her own legs. This was going to be a fun weekend.

Standing up she asked, "So what's for dinner?"

"How long has it been doing that for?" Elle asked when, while cracking eggs into a large bowl, Jack's cock grew stiff for the third time since they'd moved through into the kitchen. She had forbidden Jack his clothes, insisting that he remain naked, saying that he'd just have to be extra careful while cooking. Something thrilled her about the power dynamic of remaining fully clothed herself while he cooked for her in the nude. Now, perched on a high bar stool and sipping the gin and tonic he'd mixed for her, she revelled in the completeness of his exposure before her; his subservience to her wishes.

"Doing what particularly?" Jack asked, glancing down at his crotch before moving to drop the eggshells into the food waste caddy.

"Getting hard like that so often," Elle replied. "It's barely even gone soft since you started cooking and this is the third time in twenty minutes it's grown hard."

"You've been counting?" Jack asked, exasperation showing on his face. He was well aware of the antics of his nether regions. He knew that his cock had been either rock-hard or semi-hard since she'd left him hanging on the verge of orgasm thirty minutes ago; that there was currently a long string of precum dangling from the tip, threatening to drop to the floor as he moved about the kitchen. He felt the ache in his balls, currently hugging tightly to his groin, barely visible under Elle's watchful gaze. He didn't need her to tell him any of this.

Elle didn't press him. But she continued to watch as he moved gracefully around the kitchen, whisking the eggs, frying vegetables, testing the seasoning and finally sliding the pan under the grill to finish off the tortilla for a few minutes.

"You're good in the kitchen," she said when he pulled the pan out and tipped the contents, now beautifully risen, out onto a chopping board.

"I enjoy cooking," he shrugged. "Though I usually wear at least an apron."

Elle ignored his pointed look and said, "I'm sure you do. Where'd you learn to cook then?"

"I just taught myself, I guess," he replied, slicing two large wedges out of the round omelette and placing them delicately onto a pair of shining white plates. "I can follow recipes pretty well and now there are a few I can do off by heart. This one's easy, which seemed like a good idea given the circumstances. So, where we eating this then ma'am?" He emphasised the last word sarcastically.

"Careful, I might just make you call me that. I think the table will do just fine."

Jack carried the plates across the room to the dining table, setting them down opposite one another. As Elle took a seat, he poured them both a glass of the red wine he'd taken out of the small rack he kept in the pantry before cooking.

"Well cheers," he said, taking a seat and raising his glass before him. After their glasses clinked delicately he added, with a hint of mocking emphasis, "ma'am."

Dinner was a pleasantly mundane affair - apart from Jack's obvious nudity - and the tortilla was scrumptious. Jack's dick only grew stiff twice: once when Elle brushed her smoothly shaven calf teasingly against his leg and again a few minutes later when when he shifted his chair back from the table to fetch the wine bottle, sending vibrations up through the legs and into his groin. He was surprised at the lack of commentary from Elle when he rose to his feet and revealed his state of arousal.

The conversation, in fact, remained remarkably ordinary. Elle shared the story of a particularly frightful school camp experience, in which she'd been tricked by her friends into locking herself and her sleeping bag outside of her tent and was forced to sleep beside the dwindling campfire. Jack, for his part, spoke about his journey to web design and of his aspiration to start his own agency one day. For the better part of the meal, Jack almost forgot that he was entirely unclothed and just minutes earlier had been begging to be allowed to orgasm at the hand of the beautiful woman sitting across the table from him. Almost.