The Orgasm-Denial Spell Pt. 02 by sevenplanets777

The Orgasm-Denial Spell Pt. 02 by sevenplanets777

Explore the tantalizing depths of desire in 'The Orgasm-Denial Spell Pt. 02'. This captivating adult sex story weaves together passion, magic, and the thrill of anticipation. Dive into a world where pleasure and restraint collide, igniting fantasies and awakening hidden desires. Discover the enchanting narrative that will leave you craving more!<br/> To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn’t hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn’t spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena’s words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation…but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I’d managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn’t sure exactly when I’d gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn’t quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. “Thanks”, I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she’d already used in hers.

“Matt, aren’t you going to ask permission?”

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds…until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

“Just messing with you”, she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we’d made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I’d need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we’d both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. “Speaking of which…”, I began.

“Hmm?” She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. “Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I’ve done?”

“Well.” I suddenly felt very shy. “Here’s the thing. If I’m wrong…if I’m just imagining things…then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst.”

To my relief, she laughed. “Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway.” Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? “But I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”

“That’s just the thing. I don’t. Except that…”

“Wait, wait.” Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. “Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Well.” I wasn’t sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

“You texted me last night”, Selena said. “Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened…”

“That’s right. So…it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty…tired, you know?”

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. “Tired?”

“Uh…yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it’s kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep…I wanted to, um…relax, you know?”

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. “Relax?”

“Well…”

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. “I…I think I get it, Matt.” After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. “Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?”

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn’t help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. “Um…boxers. Unbuttoned.”

“You don’t have to be so shy about it, Matt. It’s a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but…we can talk about that another time. Right now I’m enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep…oh! What color?”

“My…my boxers?” I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

“Yes, silly.”

“Blue, I think. Light blue.”

“Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?”

“I…I think so.”

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into…I wasn’t quite sure what. I didn’t trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn’t want to move my hand away from hers.

“Did you go fast?” She asked. “Slow? Medium?”

“S…slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway”, I added sheepishly.

“Mmm”, she smiled. “I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that…well, again, that’s a thought for another time. What did you…think about?”

I’d been afraid of this. “Oh…you know.”

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. “No, I really don’t.”

“Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I…well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of…you know, sexy…” I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. “I really didn’t…I swear I wasn’t fishing for compliments. But…I kind of like that. And it’s actually funny that you say that, because when I went home…”

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

“But that’s for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you’re lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?”

“Ahem.” I tried to regain my composure. “Of course, my fair lady.”

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. “Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and…” The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn’t have distracted her. “And…?”

“Well, it…it never happened. Somehow I…I couldn’t.”

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

“So I…I tried again and…”

She couldn’t help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. “You tried again?”

“Well, uh…”

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, “Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again.” Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, “Same result?”