Anyways, all this preparation I have to put into making sure that Mr. Happy stays unsatisfied means that I'm the best cockteaser in the bunch. I'm a math major - I really like numbers - so I took up counting the exact amount of strokes it takes to bring the average guy to the edge based on various factors such as his current level of arousal, how long it's been since his last time, and so on. And then I figured out all the right spots to hit to manipulate those numbers as much as possible. It's like a puzzle. I'm really good at puzzles.
Now, every time I play with a guy, I make a game out of it. It's a game I've never lost. The rules are simple: Without letting him cum, I have to get him to the edge at exact prime numbers of strokes, counting downwards to 1. Which means the longer the guy lasts the first time, the more often I get him to that sweet edge.
I had one guy make it 1163 strokes before he almost blew it - Eleven hundred and sixty-three! Can you believe it? Of course, that meant that then we had to go to 1153, and then 1151, and then 1129, and then 1117... If he hadn't have been tied down he probably would have done something, but by the time I made it down to 1 he was putty in my hands. Anytime I got it wrong I'd just start over and shoot for the same number. We were up the whole night, him and I. But at least he wasn't the guy who made it seven.
Can you imagine it, kitten? Bound and constantly stimulated to the edge by a woman who knows every trick to make your little cock tick? Unable to do anything as she counted down from a set of numbers that made almost no sense to your poor little brain but were undeniably high? Being punished for your stamina - and with all those layers between you and her soft, inviting hands! And you can beg and plead all you like but it only turns her on. What a life, eh?
I guess you gave that up, though. But that doesn't mean you can't dream about it. Have you tried to stroke that little tube yet? Do it for me for a minute or two. It amuses me when you fake being stimulated.