We Try a Whole No-Nut WINTER.

This is about a couple in love -- who see how long they can go without allowing themselves any orgasms. They get hotter and hotter with pent-up lust.

I wrote this on commission, in close consultation with the patron. If you have enjoyed my stuff and want something tailored to your tastes, drop me a line!

Overture: Virginia's Valentine's Day party. (Chris and Terry)

Well, Bill seems to be doing really well for himself!

Oh yeah -- her name is Eloise. See, Virginia found a three-bedroom apartment and needed two more roomies. She knew each of them, but they didn't know each other. Not only were Bill and Eloise in love by October, but Virginia basically lives at HER boyfriend's place, so those two have the place to themselves . . .

They can't keep their hands off each other! I wonder what their secret is.

I COULD say that Bill never landed a tall, athletic girl before, but yeah -- they seem really happy together. Hey, how's your internship going?

Eh, I'm making friends there, because we all hate the boss.

Oh, you hate your boss? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY.

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Act I, Scene 1: Eloise opened her long limbs and Bill grinned as he dove in. They'd just finished living out her suggestion for the day: That they make love morning, noon, and night. She dug her fingers through his crisp, black hair and sighed, "So what should we do for New Year's?" If you knew accents, you could hear the slight remnants of her childhood in France.

"Since we're spending Christmas apart, I figured I'd spend New Year's making it up to you. Rubbing your back and rubbing . . . anything else you'd like." He half-stroked, half-massaged her well-defined thigh muscles. Eloise had been captain of her high school lacrosse team, and would run 10 miles whenever the urge took her. Bill was young and fit, but not an athlete -- he'd just pump a bit of iron and bike. She, on the other hand, really knew about team-building and determination. It was just one of the things he adored about her.

"Mmmm. Look, have you heard of No-Nut November?"

"I've HEARD of it. But I've only tried Drown-you-in-cum December."

She laughed with her eyes, and pointed at the bits of DNA he'd left on his Pink Floyd poster. And the pillowcase. And between her breasts. They got silly, pointing out all the places on her body he had splashed cum, in the last few months.

"Okay, okay - you're a champ, at that. But would you like to try something . . . different?"

"I'm listening."

"I was reading folks on-line who went the whole month of November without any orgasms. It's supposed to . . . change your outlook, your hormonal balance . . ."

"Uh, are you suggesting we have no sex for a month?"

Her bobbed hair shook as she said "Oh, no! No, no - No. No no no. I need you, baby, I need you holding me and I need you . . . I've never met a man who gives oral like you, Billy."

"I always heard, you can't pass marriage if you flunk the oral! Uh, sorry. You were saying?"

"What I'm saying is, we could try having sex like always, but . . . no cumming."

Bill held her and thought. His cousin joined a strict religious sect and had married a woman he knew but never touched before the wedding day. He had told Bill "Believe it or not, NOT touching her is soooo hot!"

Once he found his confidence, a few years back, Bill had started getting sex -- sometimes a whole lot of it. He was lithe and soft-spoken and women saw that he was strong but gentle. So he'd tried a couple of interesting sexy things -- but this was new.

He traced her raspberry-colored nipples and said "How long would you want to try this for?"

"Well . . . as long as we think it's a good idea. Let's set a goal of a month. It's not like we're putting money on it!"

"Well . . . let me think." He knew perfectly well that he didn't do his best thinking while holding a naked hot babe.

Soon they slept, holding each other close.

Act I, Scene 2: Two days later, they were getting dressed.

"Damn these bras! B-cups are too tight, but I slosh around in a C-cup one!"

Bill knew -- knew intimately -- how sensitive her nipples were. He knew that chafing against a bra was no fun.

"Aw, babe! Look, do they sell a semi-pad to fill out a C-cup for you?"

"I thought you LIKE to see my boobs pushed up by the B-cups!"

"I also like to see your ass escaping from that yellow bikini, but I mostly like it when you're happy."

"You're sweet!"

"So, you suggested we try no orgasms for a month. I'm up for trying. You'll be missing out on more than me, you know." They'd tracked it, and found she generally had three cums for each one of his.

"Mmm. But YOU will get backed up in a way I won't. I read an article about how guys FEEL as if they'll die if they can't get their semen out . . . it said men really DO feel that way. I always thought it was just something they said to get a woman to . . . oh -- hey!" She focused, and turned a thousand-watt smile on him. "You're up for trying this?"

"Yeah, I'm in."

"And you waited until we were CLOTHED to tell me this? My panties are getting damp, right now!"

"You asked for it! We're gonna have to just LIVE with the hornies for a while, right? So, have a good day at class, sweetie, and try not to think of me carrying around an unsatisfied schlong, okay?"

"Grrr!" She bit him on the neck, and marched off to class. She smiled all the way. Everyone who saw her thought, "I wonder what SHE'S up to!"

Act I, Scene 3: That night.

Eloise was reading Alison Bechdel's "Fun Home" for the third time, after dinner. She put it down and Bill, who was practicing his keyboards, took his earbuds out.

"Hey, music man . . . ever notice how folks in fiction eat, then go to have sex? I think none of them have YOU cooking for them. I'm gonna be too full for at least an hour!"

"El, baby, feeding you is a pleasure -- and also a bit like stoking a coal-fired engine. I've never met a woman with an appetite like yours. And . . . it's an hour NOW, isn't it?"

"And that's what I'm interrupting you for. I want you to take me to bed. Maybe see what sounds you can get me to make."

Bill pretended to think it over. She threw the couch pillows at him. Foreplay takes many forms. As he gathered her in his arms, she said "Take me to bed, you dope!" He said "As you wish."

Ten minutes later, she squirmed, feeling pleased. Bill finished going down on her, and stood. Next up: Stiff dick! And as he lined up his ramrod to her ready, willing, and ready-for-action core, she watched his pupils. He slid home, like a diver slices into water, and there it was: His pupils dilated. She loved the little things about him that told her he really loved her. Any guy could get hard for her, but he really listened to her moans and to her words. In less than a month, she'd guided him to becoming a black belt in giving cunnilingus.

And then her thoughts were derailed as he began smooth thrusting -- her pussy welcomed him. Sex with Bill could feel like being at a party -- her nipples stood and crinkled, her tongue relaxed, her skin felt ready to dance. But tonight there was tension in the air, like at a rock concert about to start. Tonight, for the first time, the sex wasn't about driving toward a goal. It was about the lovemaking itself. And to prove it, they were going to AVOID any goal that might throw itself in their path.

His feet were on the floor and her thighs were around his hips. She put her heels to his butt cheeks and pulled while he pushed -- and he saw her skin begin to glow with moisture. He loved doing her with all the lights on. Some girls in his past worried they had flaws, and would only let themselves go if it was 100% dark. But for Eloise, having a sexual appetite was like enjoying food: It never occurred to her to be embarrassed.

As he leaned over her, those nipples caught his attention -- he kept thrusting, easily, and listened to the little groans that escaped her. But those nipples! She had medium breasts, which looked very defined on such a lithe frame. In contrast, her nipples were unusually tall-standing. They were cylinders of delight. He often thought of some Renaissance poet calling them "fingers of fire." Now he understood, because they really fired her up. When he paid them oral attention, she often grabbed his head and pushed his face right into her boobs. He tried that, now.

His pelvis paused, but she wasn't going to allow that -- her supple hips kept up the rhythm, pushing up into him. He felt himself grow even harder, and her determined grin said she felt it, too. "You're not getting close, are you, Billy?" "I can take everything you can take, and more!" he panted back.

Things started to get serious. The way her pussy clasped him, he felt that she was nearing the endgame. For months, they'd practiced driving each other crazy, driving straight into orgasmville. And now they had to learn a whole new skill, racing up to the edge and then turning aside, or even racing along the border of a trembling cum . . . all the while being super-careful to not cross that border.

She started grasping his triceps, and looking left or right of him. Looking at his face made her innards flutter, at this point, and she was too busy enjoying this. If she looked him in the face, on top of everything he was doing to her, it would make her cum. So she tossed her head, and suddenly he was on her neck, nibbling and pressing full-length against her, and never letting up the motion inside her. As slick as their joined parts were, there was plenty of friction, and it was heating up down there. He tried to concentrate. This was the best thing ever -- to feel her super-toned, undulating body against every bit of him he could. He was too carried away to notice that his balls were tightening, tightening.

His cheek was hot against hers. He started to moan, and grasped her fabulous behind with both hands. Now he felt he was plowing her, and she felt it, too -- she rose to meet him again and again, and felt stirrings, familiar and urgent stirrings inside.

"We . . . we are *uhng* being careful, right?"

"You mean . . . *ah!* like you took the pill?" She tweaked his nose and closed her eyes, so she could be sure not to start cumming. This was fabulous, and she was determined to KEEP enjoying it, not to let it come to an end.

He was starting to see that all this rocking and rolling was going to send him into orbit, if he wasn't careful. Never slowing the way he pressed into her, he summoned his willpower and tried to concentrate. Pleasure was pouring in through the doors and windows of his mind, but he had to concentrate!

She watched him, making sure he didn't tense up the way he would just before cumming. He listened to her heavy breathing, and felt her ribs between his arms, making sure she was not going TOO far that she couldn't keep command of herself. Oh, her skin was sweet, against his!

And a hot fluid made itself felt, in his cock. It was pre-cum, but it was sluicing through him, now. He drove and drove into her, and it seemed that each new plunge between her lips brought more sperm-laden liquid seeping out of him. He was moving too fast to really understand this, but he did feel her tunnel getting slicker.

"Should I stop?"

"I can take it . . . hhhuuh . . . I . . ."

The pleasure rolled on, and the pressure built up.

"I can . . . take it . . . too," he lied. His cock began to feel like lead. And like a plumber's leaden plumb, it pointed right where it mattered most. Into her. And in. And in. In! He shook and drove and held on.

She was pulling her knees up to his ribs, and the change in angle made the friction even greater. "STOP!" she called. He did. He was about at the end of his tether, but he was too proud to show how relieved he was that SHE had called a halt, first.

"Now, we're gonna go again in 10 Mississippis, okay?" She began counting down ten seconds.

"WHAT? I mean, what? We should quit while we're ahead!"

"No," she breathed, and started fucking back up onto his staff again. "We're going to use DISCIPLINE. Not wimping out with a 'take five' all the time. We're going to control ourselves!"

Ten Mississippis went by, and they -- against their better judgment -- started fuck-fuck-fucking again. Cursing himself for dating a team captain, he began to suffer from holding in so much ecstasy. The cum inside him was hot, and it was pressing at the exits. It made him angry, holding back all that cum. And that bit of anger made him pound her harder. Oof! Pretty soon he realized how stupid THAT was.

"Okay," he said, affecting a calm that he didn't feel. He started stroking into her smoothly, instead of pounding. He held her cheek, and put a hand over her sweet breast. And he surreptitiously pushed into her nipple, hoping it'd make her call another halt.

"Halt!" she called. She considered his sweating face, and tweaked HIS nipple -- and was satisfied to feel his erection lurch inside her.

"I . . . I think we might do with a break."

"Okay," she said, but wouldn't let him pull out. She liked to imagine her hot insides were basting his meat, basting it in juices . . . and today she felt she was as hot as a barbecue, inside.

"Actually, I think some cold beer would do us good."

"All right -- I guess this was pretty good for a first day."

He gingerly pulled his cock out -- it felt like it was trying to flex, to pump itself even larger, but it just couldn't get any bigger. Even she noticed how red it had gotten. As he walked to the fridge, it bobbed angrily in front of him. It was a surprisingly long time before it would go down.

Interlude: Virginia's Valentine's Day party. Terry and Chris:

Bill told me they sleep apart, because she tosses and kicks in her sleep.

I dated someone like that. I didn't mind spending the night apart as long as we spent the day together. You seem very interested in what he's up to!

Hey, I'm just saying that Bill dating a woman a good two inches taller than him is . . . not that usual.

Well, she's maybe six foot two . . . and, what does it matter?

Oh, I just like to date small girls -- you can pick 'em up with one hand, put 'em in your pocket and go . . .

Hilarious. I thought you kept dating small women so your dick would look bigger next to 'em.

Yeah, yeah. Look, guys TALK about having a type, but let's face it: Every het guy on Earth has the same type of girl in mind: One who's WILLING.

Act II, Scene 1: December 27

The quad musical was having its dress rehearsal, and Bill sat wedged into the back corner of the pit band's pit. The musicians were behind the runway, and the runway was curtained.

So while the band played the finale of the first act, Bill's keyboard sang beneath his fingers. And he just about yelped when he felt a hand on his crotch.

Eloise had somehow hidden herself in the runway curtains. Worming her way between his thighs, she unzipped his pants. And as Bill had music to make, he was more or less at her mercy. If he shouted, people would turn, and see her there.

His panicked looks didn't reach her -- she was focused on his groin. Shocked as he was, his traitorous cock had begun to harden. It had been 30 days with lots of sex but not ONE release. And now his telescoping dick was playing the eternal optimist -- hoping for some sort of release -- and it didn't care WHERE they were!

Eloise had one hand down her shorts, rubbing, while she guided his now full-standing pole between her lips. Her oral fixation had come out at some crazy times, but this was the most public risk she'd ever taken. And Bill couldn't do a thing about it. If he stopped concentrating on playing the music properly, it would be obvious to everyone. He HAD to keep both hands on the Moog synth, and he HAD to concentrate!

But that meant that he could not spare ANY mental energy to keep his long-denied semen under control.

Eloise sucked him leisurely -- she knew she had as much time as she wanted. The oaken staff in her mouth pulsed gently, but leaked profusely. It had been so long since he'd cum, he could feel how heavy the semen tanks inside him had gotten. And now they were jittery -- cranked up to launch.

He winced, trying to play the keyboard and not alert everyone that he was ten seconds from crying out. He was at capacity -- semen filled every spare bit of room inside him. Sperm was now rising from his swollen, hurting balls. After all the discipline he'd shown -- again and again fighting off orgasms while making love to that fabulous woman -- he was going to spray several POUNDS of cum in 5 . . . 4 . . .

AHHUUP! Bill bolted upright, alone in his bed -- dimly aware he'd been dreaming of a blowjob in a public place. But he was FULLY aware his cock was standing, hot, and quite possibly about to SPEW white stuff. He didn't really know where he was, but he had the wit to apply the famed pinch that Master's and Johnson taught us, and he prayed hard. Things stayed frozen in time for an agonizingly long moment, and finally, finally, his virile but frustrated systems began to de-escalate the situation.

It was a full minute before he dared to unclench his left hand from his cock's tip, and his right hand from the shaft's base. DAMN! If Eloise was coming for his cum in his dreams, what chance did he have?

He'd be seeing her today for the first time in a week, and -- being a normal, healthy college junior -- was horny as fuck. Horny enough that he wasn't 100% sure he'd GET to her before his body did things -- uncontrollable things. Unapproved things. After a solid month of pumping up his supply and never, never letting any out, he was starting to walk differently. His scrotum fit tighter over his balls than it used to -- the balls were clearly bigger and heavier. The whole thing was ridiculous. But: He could NOT back down now. He couldn't let Eloise down now. And if she was taking it, then he would, too. The whole lunatic situation left him with one loud thought: "OOF!"

Act II, Scene 2

Eloise threw her arms around him at the train depot, and nuzzled him close. He was happy, happy to see her, and they held hands as he took some of her luggage up. "Baby, your hair is even shorter, now?"

"It's called a pixie cut! See anything else you like?"

She'd worn a plunging neckline, knowing what a sucker he was for cleavage. "I like it a LOT. Thanks for stuffing those into a B-cup bra for me." He hadn't had much time to register how her firm boobs were climbing over the tops of their barrier, but they had all evening to look forward to.

"Ah -- but this is a C-cup!" she murmured by his ear. "All the attention you've given them, or maybe all the sex, they're . . . swelling. Or growing. Well, they're bigger now. I don't even know if they're done expanding!"

Fact is, they HAD been having more sex than ever. A person who is starving cannot think of anything but food. And since they'd vowed to not have any orgasms, each of them was only thinking of sex more and more. Consider that college students are pretty horny to start with, and you'll see that this meant a whole lot of sex was going on. Not just beast-with-two-backs sex, either -- there were teases and hand-jobs and just undressing him with her eyes, especially in company. They were so into each other, their friends were calling them Morticia and Gomez.

Bill had a frisson of lust, thinking about her breasts -- now new and improved -- thinking about her serious nipples sitting even farther from her ribcage when he'd lie her on her . . . damn! Can't walk right, if ya spring a stiffy.

Dinner was forgotten. And halfway home, they had to duck into an alley just to neck. She rubbed herself up against him, like a cat. He took fistfuls of her short, silken hair, and pulled her mouth to his.