Mentalgasms

This happened to me with an ex, but for some reason the final retelling read better when I wrote from his perspective.

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Curled around her naked, fit body, I feel her body heat spike. She squirms, rolls away from me- I pause mid-sentence to lift my arm for her- and she rolls onto her back, sits up, and twists gingerly. *Must be cramps,* I think, figuring I know her well enough by now. She replies to me, then adds that she feels funny since I pinched her nipple 5 minutes ago. I shrug, assuring her I didn't mean anything by it other than the demonstration. Playfully, she smacks me in the pec, although with her strength it's always just a little too hard.

Thus, when I turn onto my back to rub my sore chest, I miss her narrowed eyes, her shortened breaths. I feel her stretch out again beside me, now on her stomach. I say something to her, but she doesn't respond. Her face is buried in the pillow. I say her name; I don't think she heard me. Her breathing is shallow; I can feel the heat radiating off her naked, muscular back. I half expect her to throw the covers off her legs and run to the bathroom to throw up any minute. Understandably concerned, I tentatively touch her shoulder and ask if she's okay. In response, she stretches out, grabs the edge of the mattress above her head, arches her back, and moans loudly. Not what I was expecting.

I watch her body spasm, the muscles in her back and shoulders flex intimidatingly as her buttocks clench and undulate downward. After a few short, loud gasps, she picks her head up, dragging the pillow by its case clenched between her teeth. At this point, I catch on, and with utter incredulity, ask, "Are you coming?!" I'm not sure it's a direct answer, but subsequent to my inquiry, her eyes roll back and her jaw pops open in a guttural noise between a moan and a roar. Again, I'm left staring wide-eyed and speechless while I process her coming down from what looked like an unspeakably intense and completely unstimulated orgasm.

As she comes down, I try to get ahold of my arousal by taking a few deep breaths- but this utterly backfires since all I can smell is her ladyjuices. I swear I almost invented the nosegasm right then and there, but her orgasm was enough weirdness for one day. I reach down and adjust my cock, reminding it that we have a date later and are not double-dipping. It doesn't seem like this girl needs my help anyway...

Thinking her storm has passed, I speak, my voice thick with undisguised yet clearly restrained lust: "If that was what a finger on your shoulder did, imagine a tongue running down your back." To my surprise and satisfaction, her one-eyed look at me unfocuses, and she buries her face in the pillow, off to the races again. She must be just as curious about her state as I am, since she keeps a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the mattress above her head, rather than reach down and touch herself. Her staccato grunts become choked up for a moment, and then her left arm flails, clumsily catching the pillow under which her head was caught, and flings it off the bed. She gasps, face away from me and eyes wide but unseeing. Her arm rests flat and awkwardly next to her side, hand near hip, probably because of her shoulder issues. I lean forward slightly, thinking to touch her again, when she gasps in a voice not unlike Christian Bale's Batman, "What'dyoudotome?!"

I freeze in a mixture of fear of her and fear of laughing. Ignorant of my aroused confusion (or confused arousal) she turns her face into the mattress, slides her other hand down beneath her chest, and squeezes a breast and a hip simultaneously. A long, lewd, bleating moan begins, first muffled by the mattress, then filling the room as she lifts her head. She lays her cheek back down, writhing her way through a marginally less intense orgasm, and stares me directly in the eye. I imagine that, if she can register my expression, she sees a mixture of excitement and rigid self-control fighting with just a hint of fear. She's always scared me, one way or another. In her eyes, I see something like animal lust and perhaps pain of some kind; her eyes are so pretty with just a hint of tears there.

Gravely with arousal and almost inaudible, her voice is almost unintelligible. Knowing her, I expect an order, so parsing her phrasing is exceptionally difficult. "I need you to fuck me. Please fuck me~" an orgasmic spasm- "I need your cock in me-" a harsh grunt. For her, this is begging. For a second, I consider taking pity on her, but she looks like whatever's happening to her is much more enjoyable than having my cock inside her has generally been. And anyway, I'd rather have her ass than her vagina. Maybe I could start in the wet one and...

She's speaking again. I snap out of my reverie. She's saying something glib about being glad one of us has enough self control to be responsible. She turns even redder, blushing, which I couldn't have imagined would happen, and she mumbles "So how ashamed should I be for breaking character?" What little blood is left in my brain certainly isn't being split between processing that and keeping myself from attacking her, so I just give a blank, dumb smile. "I don't beg very well, do I?" She punctuates that sentence with a brief, harsh laugh, and then looks at me out of the corner of her eye.

I think I remember her saying something about losing control. I assure her I've never felt like she wasn't in control when I'm around her. She seems surprised, and a little satisfied, if confused. She turns on her side and curls up facing me, knees against my stomach and face resting on my bicep, nuzzling against my collarbone. I pray she doesn't nibble; I will my penis to deflate just enough that she won't brush against it with her knee. I pull the covers up over her and throw an arm around her back, over the covers. I'm getting ahold of myself: my burning arousal has reduced to hot coals in the pit of my stomach. I can't do to her what I want and need to do, though. I'm sure she understands. My self-control only goes so far.Still, I wish I could have all of her. Tenderly, I kiss her forehead; she mewls contentedly and makes a tired attempt at a nuzzle. What a strange and unexpected experience. If I knew then what I know now, I would have brought her back chocolate ice cream later, instead of lavender.