Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied

During my adult life, I've experienced a sleeping orgasm twice. Both instances occurred while in bed with the object of the dream that inspired the arousal.

This is somewhat rare for women, I know. I suppose I'm lucky in that regard. It's never been difficult for me to orgasm. Quickly, repeatedly, strongly. But the sleeping variety...wow.

This most recent one was accompanied by an unusual dream. In it, my lover was no longer a physical presence, but spiritual - with the ability to possess any living creature. I told him of this dream after I recovered, but forgot to mention that the orgasm came when his spirit possessed my body. Which, I suppose, means something far more intriguing than being able to orgasm in my sleep.

So Soon, the follow up

You may. But I didn't.

Effortless denial. Willing. Eager.

I'm living in my skin today, not my head. It's liberating.

Please

Arrogantly, I told him that I read of orgasm denial with disbelief. How would they find out? Why not lie? Hope hope hope that he heard the challenge, the unspoken request. Knowing that he did, but won't be led so easily.

Gritting my teeth and waiting my turn.

I don't go so willingly into this, he knows. I steer, or try. He waits me out like a cat.

Recollections

Recently, I related this story to a friend and potential lover. I'm not sure how I managed to recall it.

I used to get a prank caller. At first I would just hang up on him. But he kept calling. It was always late late late at night. It would wake me, the phone. I'm sure I sounded groggy. His voice was deep. I don't recall now what he said when I would answer. I only remember that it was offensive, and I would immediately hang up. But over the span of a few weeks, I came to look forward to his calls. And I found myself waiting longer each time before disconnecting. Until one night when I just waited, without hanging up. I stayed on the line, and eventually he spoke again. Without his standard opening line, he seemed more human, less crank caller. We began to speak every night. He would push me gently toward the topic of sex, but I was younger then, not sure of myself in that manner. I would turn shy and hang up. I was probably 22 or 23. I remember that he asked me to describe myself, my entire body. He wanted all the details. How long my hair was, the texture of it, the color, my eyes, my lips, my nose, how long or slender was my neck. what the skin on my arms felt like as I rubbed them. if my nails were long or short. Were my breasts full or small, what size were my nipples, how curly was my pubic hair. It went on and on. I felt like he could pick me out of a crowd. I never asked anything about him. I never wanted to know. I just answered his questions. As he asked me to describe myself, his condition was that I had to be touching what I was describing. I felt.....submissive. It was incredibly erotic. If I concentrated hard enough, I could imagine it was his hand, not mine. He led up to it for a few weeks, but eventually I was touching my cunt. Telling him how wet it was. That my clit was swollen. That my finger was slipping inside myself. That my nipples were erect. That night I came for him.