Edge of Anticipation

You are bound tightly to a folding chair. Hands behind your back. You asked them to do it. You wanted this.

So, they got you naked and they bound you. They bound your feet too, making sure to really immobilize you.

You have not cum in, what? If today is Monday… I think it’s been a week.

They barely get their shirts off before you feel your erection grow and stand at attention. You tug at a wrist, that automatic urge to grip yourself and squeeze. To feel that blood swell in your oversized joystick. Your balls ache.

“Look at that,” they say.

“Big boy can’t touch himself,” they laugh at you.

They touch each other. Smooth body, hair body, skin to skin. They wrap around each other, kiss each other, and they do it all right in front of your face. You can smell the hormones in the air and it only makes your swollen monster harder. You are lightheaded from the ache of it.

They break away and watch you.

You feel a drop of sweat on your brow.

“Let’s work on him,” they say.

One of them climbs between your legs and parts his lips with the point of your dick. It presses into his warm mouth and he swirls a tongue down the rod until you feel yourself bend up into his sinuses. His throat grips at your foreskin.

You’d gasp if your mouth weren’t filled with cock. The other one straddles your face, firmly gripping at the side of your skull. He puts a curved cock in your mouth; it curves just right to slide down your throat with ease. Your eyes water, but you don’t gag.

Oh, wait, today is Tuesday. It’s been over a week.

Your balls tremble as you get closer and closer to climax, but you’re just not quite there.

Your cock is pulled from the one’s mouth and the other shimmies his way down until he’s sitting on your cock. He pushes just the tip inside himself.

A little further.

A little further.

He slides down and groans in your ear.

“Amazing,” he says, “you have to try it.”

They take turns. One at a time, taking their time, feeling you inside of them. Slide in, real slow, slide out. Trade. Repeat.

They caress fingers against your lips. They pinch at your nipples. Teasing them, massaging them, flicking them. They push their tongues into the deepest crevices of your ear and bite at your earlobe.

They know all the right buttons to push. All the right angles to drag you right near that point. That good point.

They stop. They kiss each other. They don’t touch you. You can’t touch yourself.

“Please,” you say.

They take turns stroking your cock in slow, loose strokes. Just the lightest of pressure.

Your endorphins rush. Your precum glistens in the dim light of the room as it starts to flow down your shaft.

“He wants it real bad,” they say.

“Please,” you beg, “Please. Please.”

One massages at the base of your balls as the other tightens his grip and strokes harder. They don’t need lube, the buckets of precum are doing just fine. More endorphins. You are starting to get that feeling, the one that starts in your belly and tingles as it grows and strengthens, swells into a balloon of ecstasy that will burst and force your muscles to spasm as your atoms, for just a moment, become one with the universe.

Right as you are about to, oh my gods, this is it, I am going to cu…

And they stop.

“Maybe next time,” they untie you.

“Get out.”