Sweet torture

Not-so-frequent and arranged sex has its advantages and disadvantages. Unheard wishes of one afternoon, notions of lying in bed together on a rainy or really lazy day, an irresistible desire for sex that needs to be smothered. Men say that this has been their everyday life since their teenage years and that women can't even imagine it. In recent years, I have had a growing feeling that I am becoming a man about this somehow, although when it comes to a weekend dedicated to sex, I put myself in my feminine position as a torturer. 

It's been days and weeks since the last skin-to-skin contact in bed. Life keeps me in suspense all the time. I try to keep track of things without losing my head. It is only when I go to bed at night and take a break from a busy day that my thoughts again run to that distant bed, where I could stop time, where all that mattered most was how to be as relaxed as possible. When the rhythm of life eases slightly and the situation calms down, several times during the day, during work, during afternoon activities, I am overwhelmed at first by a pleasant desire for sex. When it becomes more and more present and I do not know how to silence it even during obligations, I have a feeling that I will go crazy from a lack of sex. I feel like a man without water in the desert. And so my feelings are annoyingly waving all the time until the weekend of sex comes again to release this and other desires.  

The closer it gets, the bigger the ticking time bomb I become. Sometimes I spent hours intertwining scenarios, choosing the right underwear. This is not the case now, because life still holds me by the neck until the last minute, but fortunately, it does not interfere with my imagination. I'm still crocheting scenarios in my head. Nevertheless, it has happened many times that the script fell into the water as soon as I arrived at my weekend destination. No torture, just satisfying a sexual need. And it really was exactly what I needed at the moment.  

But my scripts were never about a quickie. Everything else was more important. The most common flow of events when the owner hands over the keys, takes a photo of IDs, and closes the door behind him, is not to jump into bed straight away, but I want to have my second coffee of the day and cigarettes on the balcony or terrace. This is my grounding, and at the same time, the torture of the person who is with me. We spent the ride there, usually never short, touching and teasing each other. It is also good to eliminate the store and lunch logistics on the way to make the weekend as peaceful as possible, and not at all like those at home. Nevertheless, this is another form of torture for both, although it is never intentionally provoked.  

If I go back to the torture just before the bed test, or any other movable property in the apartment, coffee and cigarettes are just the beginning. In the toilet before this big event, I sometimes take off my underwear, or I already put on a tight short dress at home, and thus parade around the apartment. Another time, I immediately change into comfortable clothes and take off my armor so that my two hazelnuts (tits) can breathe. I often open my computer or put all the toys I have to test on the table on that weekend. There is such tension in the air that you could cut it with a knife. But I like it, I like procrastination, especially if the goal is very well known to me. I know that I will get what I have longed for all these past days or weeks. When the days were busy, I looked for comfort in playing through scenarios, just before I fell into a deep sleep.

I am well aware that I am not only torturing myself, but also the person with whom I share my bed. It only occasionally happened that I was run over or tired of my own torture to the extent that I just wanted to sleep, or that I wanted to eat vast amounts of food in that moment. At that time, I pulled myself together a bit and soon continued to follow my primary desire, the desire for sex.  

Most of my torture attempts were successful. I managed, of course, with the help of another person, to raise the expectation and desire, which was then poured out in good sex, which lasted for hours with food stops and naked rolling on the bed.