#ruinedorgasms

“I…I want to try something. It might be a bad idea.”

He smiled. “What is it?”

I stuttered, and blushed, and hesitated, as I struggled to tell him that I want… I want to ruin an orgasm.

The last time I ruined an orgasm, I felt so awful, I was unable to recover without a full orgasm. It made me feel absolutely miserable, and I didn’t get horny again afterwards.

But maybe it’s different now. Now that I have his help. His guidance. His voice in my ear.

Now that he can talk me through it. Make me aware of what I’m begging him to do. Make me realise what I am, what I want, what I need.

Now that he can comfort me afterwards. Tell me it’s going to be okay. Tell me that he will let me cum again, someday.

And he can make it worse. He can make me edge until I cry. He can tell me I’m allowed to cum, and then at the last moment, change his mind. He can make it the worst ruin I’ve ever had.

“I just… I just want to cum. Even a ruin. Please…”

He paused, and I already regretted what I had just asked him.

“I’ll think about it.”

And so here I am. Touching hopelessly. Edging until I can’t take anymore. That’s what I am, now. A denial slut who begs for a ruin.