It’s been twelve days, you have never felt closer to me, you have never been more beautiful.
I come over you not coming for me, and then I come again. I come over how much you want to come. I come over you thanking me for not letting you come. I come over you getting hard for me over and again. I come over you nearly coming and struggling to stop yourself. I come over your newly found sensitivity. I come over telling you how not letting you come makes me come. I come over listening to you in pain and how that brings you close to coming. I come over hearing you whisper, “God, I want to come… oh please…” I come over you nearly coming before you are even fully hard. I come over you not being able to be touched when you are so hard it hurts. I come over bringing you to the edge and not letting you come over and over. I come over telling you things that make you want to come. I come over thinking up tortures that will make it harder for you to not come. I come over that desperate sound you make when you are trying not to come.
I want to come for every second that you are not coming.
I haven’t told you how many more days, but I know you are thinking it’s at least six more. Six more you can deal with. But what if it’s six more after that, and six more after that?