The Masseuse (His November)

The Masseuse and The Masseuse Part II

One month, that’s all it would be. He thought it would be difficult, he never expected it would be hellish.

It would have been so much easier, he thought, if his last orgasm was at least fulfilling, at least truly enjoyable. Instead, the masseuse had ended with a ruined orgasm, dashing hopes of a pleasurable climax before sending him away with the instruction to go a month of denial before returning. All he needed to do was get through November, and finally he assumed he’d get the orgasmic release he needed.

He longed for the massage table, to feel the masseuse and her apprentice’s warm, feminine hands caress his naked body. It was extremely difficult to abstain from touching himself at night when that was all he could picture. The way their hands coated him all over, how soft their palms felt against his throbbing member, how teasing their fingertips were each time it twitched.

Even work was difficult; as the days turned into weeks, it became harder to think about anything other than sex. Every titillating image or suggestive comment turned his mind to mush. It was as if, within the first week, he realised just how much free time he had, even at work, free time which led to more fantasies churning in his mind. While the urge to masturbate at night wasn’t as strong as expected, the urge to watch porn was greater than ever. He avoided it to ensure he wouldn’t be tempted. He wanted to last the entire month.

The thought of returning to the massage table soon gave way to thoughts of lying on a bed with those women, both eager to reward him for lasting the month. Even as his hands idly teased around his cock (taking much pleasure in how easy it was to feel it becoming stiffer, fuller), he ensured not to stroke it directly, imagining the first time being those feminine hands pressing to it, ready to guide it into a warm, wet hole.

By the end of the second week, after realising that erotic fantasies began consuming much of his free time, he took to hitting the gym much more frequently. While enjoying the skin-tight attire certainly didn’t prevent his imagination from wandering, he found that it was more an aspect of simple admiration as opposed to something which consumed him. In fact, his time at the gym, far from being a mere diversion, became a positive outlet that replaced much of his urge.

If only things ended there, he thought to himself. If only the sexual desires which constantly flooded him simply ended as an outlet for an even healthier lifestyle than before. While outside, in the gym, at work and in social settings, he exuded a fitter, more focused and healthier persona. It was in his quiet moments alone that he needed the sexual outlet more than ever. While women had started to notice him even more due to his increased self-confidence, he made sure that he’d avoid seeking out a partner or taking anything further, solely to make the next massage session as good as it could be. Thinking back to how those two women made it feel seemed to ignite something within him. Just remembering how they’d brought him to the edge, the pleasure they took in seeing his cock pulsating and dripping with precum, made him become erect without even touching himself. The good thing was that his attention on bettering himself in his social life and at the gym meant that his desire to watch porn faded. His imagination was better than pornography could ever be. This, however, meant that sleep was difficult, constantly reminding himself of the wonderful torment his cock endured and thinking of how much more they’d next make him suffer. He lay in bed on his back, the covers down and fully erect, strolling his fingers up and down his inner thighs, imagining it was the masseuse teasing him, wanting to keep him twitching yet not giving the sexual release of full masturbation. He kept himself that way for what seemed like hours. Erotic torture but far from genuine masturbation.

As the end of the month drew nearer, the urges became stronger. Even using other outlets, such as the gym and reading more, didn’t help ease the need for that sweet stimulation he craved.  Things were a little different due to this extended denial. He was spending all of November abstaining from porn, abstaining from direct masturbation, all having caused for the urges to be more of a pleasant driving force as opposed to outright desperation.

He wanted to come… he didn’t need it. This was the difference.

The want, however, was a greater want than he’d ever encountered. It fed every thought and fantasy to imagine being subject to such pleasure on those inches of him yearning for release. The thoughts weren’t focused on him fucking, on how he could slide his length into something soft and tight, how his hips could thrust hard to a deep penetration, eliciting moans and screams of rapture due to his intent. Instead, his thoughts were of what could be done to him, how he’d be the passive recipient of pleasure. Simply, spending November in this state of denial had increased his submissive tendencies tenfold. It would be the masseuse’s decision if he came.

He wanted it but didn’t need it.

Even the ruined orgasm would be a relief… even edging would be a relief. To feel those surges of pleasure coursing through his stiffness. To feel so full and erect, his manhood at the centre of someone else’s intentions. Simply to feel those short, sharp, stuttered convulsions of pleasure as the first surge of ecstasy could spill forth. Even as it stopped, at least it would be attention focused on that one throbbing segment dripping with cum that seemed to have built ready to burst. Such agonising frustration but a relief all the same.

Once the end of November came, he found himself finally at the massage parlour. It was like a battle had been won. He was surprised how easy it was to stave off seeking erotic material, yet the level of eroticism that clouded his mind the past few weeks made up for it. Now that he was perhaps minutes away from what started it all, it was as if all the building fantasies and desires were ready to be unleashed all at once. Trembling with anticipation, he entered.

He wanted it… and now that the moment was nearing, he needed it.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

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