pleasuretorture:

Anticipation once again permeated throughout the room as the
audience took to their seats. The previous nights had been so intense, watching
her being teased constantly without the hope of climax. Perhaps this would be
the night that she’d be given respite from the agonizing need. It was of course
such a tantalizing affair, to watch such beautiful suffering, such desire,
knowing that the performer had been selected due to her sensitivity. She of
course was paid very handsomely, however this was a way to see something beyond
an act, to see raw passion so fully exposed, pure unfiltered desire laid open
beyond any mere performance. They were here to see sexuality at its finest.  

The slow, calculated bathing ritual was of course meant to
arouse as much as cleanse, however these last couple of nights had been pure
hell even without their grazing fingertips; a glance towards her bare skin was
enough to burn like a lick of flame. The silence was what made it all so much
worse, particularly when she was on the stage. The intimacy of the small audience
kept her aware of how every pair of eyes were constantly lingering on her body,
letting her bask in the heat of the thoughts that must be racing through their
minds. If the teasing touches from being bathed and prepared were like the ebb
of the tide against her arousal, the man’s hands against her were like a
tsunami crashing over her.

So much experience with teasing and tormenting his targets,
honed to perfection and unleashed on this girl’s body all at once. The way his
fingers trailed and played, caressed and penetrated. Always leaving the
audience just on the brink as much as her, wondering whether she’d topple over,
but he always knew when to stop. They had worked together for too long for him
to make any mistakes, to not be able to read her little signs. They both wanted
the same thing, for the audience to be able to taste the desire, to feel every
pulse of longing. She wanted the men to feel that throb and imagine how it
would feel within, he wanted the women to feel that convulsion and for them to
moan in unison every time he entered her. Though as time went on, her attention
veered from the audience and more onto herself as her mind joined her body in a
desperate plea to climax. It was the same every day they performed, but as the
week went on, it happened sooner and sooner. Though each time she whispered for
him to please let her come, she was met with an audible ‘no’, loud enough for
the audience to know what she’d asked and to let them revel in her sweet
despair.

When his rock hard cock was inside her, the tension was
palpable. Every thrust seemed as if it would be the one to throw them over the
edge, every wet slap of penetration was expected to be joined by her screams of
release, yet still they both held on. He had also spent just as long as her
without orgasm, though he loved it, the way it made him feel so stiff and full
and how much more it added to the show. It was, after all, all about the show; their
pleasure was the centre stage. That was why, when she gasped that she was about
to come, and when the audience held their breath in anticipation, he withdrew
and simply motioned ‘no’. Leaving her on edge as much as the audience, perhaps
tomorrow he’ll be at the point where his will would be broken, where the desire
to show off the art of lust wouldn’t outweigh his desperate need to come. She
however was already beyond that point. Perhaps tomorrow the artistic, sensual splendour of
orgasm will be on display, but not tonight.

Content created by: PleasureTorture

Image source from: XChimera