I do not know what the female equivalent to male blue balls is but I have it. Unfortunately for some of us women we do actually feel sexual arousal, compounded by denial or being unused, and it is someplace tucked up in there just out of reach – it sucks.
Some people might say ‘well this is when I rub one out’ or ‘jerking off with take the edge off’
Sorry, no it will not. My mind is clearly in a place of self-discipline, it had to be so that I didn’t jump PC as soon as he came in the door, and instead I think I am going to sit on this hard ball of sexual lust and wait – it is more about the man than it is about the act of coming – though the longer I have to wait the more unpredictable PC’s survival rates become. Not so strange that this makes me feel a tad dangerous; in two days I will be bartering with myself.
My husband was called off work, which rarely happens, so when PC arrived my husband was here. I should say that I really do not ever hold it against my husband that for whatever reason he finds himself at home when I have made plans: my husband felt bad and I could tell, not only did he keep offering to leave but even this morning he apologized once again for ‘ruining my plans’ it was nonsense. Only a lack of class would have me agree to him leaving his own house so that I could fuck another man.
PC of course managed once again to prove he is in fact a perfect gentleman – which in turn just made it harder for me not to violate him. Thank the gods he was not wearing those shorts, it was hard enough for me to keep my hands off him when my husband drove to town for some beer. I am not the quickie type but it did pass my mind. Putting the drive in back on the table crossed my mind too.
PC got to grill meat, I was happy I got to watch and we all sat around talking for a while. When he went to leave I was actually tempted to get in the car: I am pretty sure we could find a secluded place back in the woods… but at least I got to kiss him. He is such a bloody good kisser and does this whole thing where he pulls me in up against him and I can feel his cock on my belly; I think I heard my pussy let out a sob.
I am not disappointed; at least it is not what I believe I am feeling but rather once again a victim of circumstance that did not allow me to get my way. Why throw a fit, it will not produce the cock I want. I was so looking forward to holding his cock in my hand and having him in my mouth while he took some video, my pussy was in a state of perpetual wetness since the moment he said he was coming over. I had allowed myself to believe that I would have his cum tonight so I do feel a sense of loss or something like it.
Strangely I am feeling a bit that I owe him for not only being unable to entertain him the way I had planned and wanted but he stayed the evening and it was like any other time he had been here as company. He is not the sort that would have gotten up and left, no no no, but he is busy and he did come all this way… these things do matter right? I feel as though I take them into account.
This is strange, relatively new – which is funny because it is as though I am still ‘learning’ human ways- because I feel I want to make it up to him for the plans falling through. His time is certainly valuable and I do appreciate him and I make no secrets of wanting him but perhaps hold back how much. I strangely desire he take it out on me and by that the sexual account would balanced – if that even makes sense – perhaps an overnight pass is in order, where for a longer amount of time I am better able to show him just how I feel. Of course he would have to be feeling some of the sexual frustration I am, perhaps not to the same extent, but he could manage to turn this into a delightful evening of getting his own way. I am certainly at the point where I would agree to anything he asked of me.
Well not anything, within reason almost anything but certainly more than I have felt I owed anyone else.