It is just so fucking hot when he says that to me. I hear the words, and get a jolt straight from my ear (which I bet you didn’t know was connected) down to my cunt, even though I know it means I’m not going to be getting anything out of it except the pleasure of pleasuring him, of bringing him there, to that edge, and then pulling him over (because with A it’s not pushing him over, but pulling him, dragging him, with me, with my mouth, to the edge) into the abyss that is the joy of a deep, shuddering, bone-melting orgasm.
But what a pleasure it is. I’m not a cumslut, I don’t crave the the taste of it (even his, which is usually sweet and which I actually like), it’s not a fetish or fantasy of mine to eat it, be covered in it, have it on my face, in my hair, to taste it. It’s about more than that. It’s about power, and validation, and giving pleasure while I am taking none except that which I derive from pleasuring him.
It happens when a man comes during intercourse with me as well, although it is not such a direct link between me causing the pleasure, making him come, as it is when my mouth is wrapped around his cock, when I am taking him as deep as I can into my throat, when it is my deliberate contact and actions that are forcing him to the edge. That is power, my power to do that to him, to make that happen, to drive him out of his head and out of control, until he can’t help himself, until he is thrusting blindly into my mouth and and then, in one last uncontrollable spasm, spends himself, filling my mouth, moaning and quivering, saying “Yes, yes, god yes” over and over.
It’s good to be the one in power every once in awhile. ~grin~