It's been about eight months since I lost the bet. According to the original agreement, to keep this as short as possible, losing the bet meant that I was not going to be allowed to have an orgasm for sixteen days. Over the course of those sixteen days, my girlfriend April would work me over with her hands every night before bed for fifteen minutes, keeping me on the edge of exploding for the full time. If I were to let myself go, then the sixteen days would start over and two more days would get added to my well-deserved punishment.

As discussed in the previous part, I failed to control myself on the first of the 16 nights and so the punishment was now extended to 18 days. Though admittedly, part of the reason I couldn't hold back was because April decided to treat me to my first foot job ever, something I had dreamed about ever since I met this girl. The next day, she admitted that it wasn't really fair to me to extend the punishment since she had basically "cheated", and so my trial was now going to be 15 days, not 18. And no more foot jobs. It was of no consequence, however, as I only made it to night five of the 15 before spluttering out, making my punishment 20 days. I made it three days into that one, and now it was 22 days.

This has gone on and on for the last eight months. The longest streak of days I have managed was 9 days, at which point the punishment was up to 34 days total, meaning I hadn't even made it 1/3 of the way into my punishment, and now the total was 36. Remember that thing I said before about how most guys did it for an entire month in November? Well, now I was right there with them, and then some.

But that 9 day streak? That was about five months ago now. I have continually failed to hold back my load at some point not even ten days into the punishment, and the current punishment now stands at 81 days. Why an odd number? We'll get to that. But hey. Almost three months of having to suffer through 15 minutes of edging every night with no orgasm. Additionally, there is the guilt I feel over April having to wear the three-inch heels all day every day for all of that time. She has not even remotely compromised on her outfits, but some nights as we lie in bed, I can tell she's rubbing her aching feet under the covers, and I feel all the worse for it. I have tried many times to talk her out of it, to take care of herself, but she insists that this punishment will not stop until I make it to the end of the full thing, and part of that punishment includes me having to look at her all dolled up and not being allowed to heave her up onto the kitchen counter and go to town on her.

The other thing about the 9 day streak is, I'm currently on a longer streak than that. 9 days is as long as I've held out up to this point, but as of last night, I am currently at 14 days. Two full weeks! I'm actually kind of proud of myself, and I know April is too. I know she must be praying every night that I don't blow my load, but the way she's been working me over, you wouldn't know it. She still keeps me firmly at the edge of my will for the full 15 minutes. I'm still not allowed to see a timer. She even admitted to me that one night, just for fun, she edged me for 20 minutes instead of 15. Because of that, she was willing to cut five days off my punishment. Hence why it's an odd number now. I still remember that night, it was night 10 to be exact. And it was full torture.

As I sprawled back on the bed, April crawled up on top of me and started making out with me, as she sometimes did. Her smell instantly overtook me with pleasure, and I could feel the heat from her hot tits pressing hard down on my chest, even through the dress shirt and undershirt she was wearing. My thick sausage sprung to action right away, grazing repeatedly up against her skirt. I put my hands to her belt, her body heat baking against my palms as she continued to bathe her warm, wet tongue against my own. Some of her juices spilled out of her skirt and miraculously onto my cock. It was like partially melted butter hitting the frying pan. I don't think she even realized that it had happened, but she frequently did like to come while depriving me of my own, so I wasn't surprised that she was this drenched already. I instinctively put my hands up to her shoulders to lightly push her away when I realized I was close to the end of my will already.

"Oh boy, that was fast," she whispered, smiling at me. Her precious smile gave me another wave of warmth across my innards, which I managed to ignore, as I had now done hundreds of times. Without much of a break, she bathed her hands in lotion (still gloved and surely very sweaty, with highs in the 90's today), and started to work on me. I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip, trying to distract myself as the tips of her fingers tickled the underside of my throbbing meat. I bit harder as I felt the squelching of my desperate orgasm pummeling at me from the inside. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. 

April opted to give me another break, seeing how badly I was struggling with tonight, my 15th night of edging with no orgasm. Still, both of us knew that the gloves were going to come off at some point, both literally and figuratively. I finally managed to catch my breath, which April was all too well aware of, and she got back to work on me with no hesitation. Damnit, why did she have to be so observant? She started at the tip this time, loose fists gliding up and down the breadth of me. My pulse accelerated immediately. It didn't seem to matter how many times I did this, how many nights I endured this. It never got easier. It always felt wrong. It felt so wrong. I gritted my teeth and balled up my fists, forcing myself to hold back as her hot, wet fingers continued to tease and tantalize me, all the way up to the edge again. 

Without realizing it, I was whispering hushed and repeated "Stop"s. According to her, I was doing this more and more frequently as the number of days without orgasm increased. Obviously, it was wearing me down. Sometimes April would stop when I did that. Other times, she wouldn't, because sometimes she knew me better than I knew myself, and she always seemed to know when I had a little bit more effort in there to give her. This was one of those times. Her fingers kept at me, lightly tapping and tickling up and down my raging shaft, even though i was right there. My desire massively bellowed in response. An explosion of heat thrashed across my midsection and a volcano of precum fluids drizzled out of my aching cock, spewing and spittling down the sides. I groaned loudly in response, desperately needing to let this go. Desperately needing to let my love come out.

"Please," I begged her. "Please, I can't do this."

April didn't say a word. She merely unbuttoned some of her dress shirt and took my hand.

"Touch me," she invited. I knew what she meant, and while it may have seemed like a nice break, I knew it was only going to keep me teetering right on the edge for even longer. I slowly reached in with my hands, putting them inside of her stifling dress shirt. Her undershirt was baked with sweat, yet still I rubbed against her sides and up under her tits through the sodden material. Less than a minute passed, and April pushed my hands away and refastened the buttons on her shirt. My dick was still blubbering and begging for release. She then pulled the front of her skirt to the side and invited me again.

"Touch me, please." Grateful, I reached for the creamy center of her sizzling innards and worked her slowly. She suddenly grabbed my wrist and plunged me into her. I flinched as the heat of her broiling pool of wetness made contact, and instinctively started to wriggle my fingers around. Whatever I was doing must have hit a nerve, because April started to squeal and cry out like I've never heard her do before. She grunted and started to jerk me in and out of her so violently, more violently than I ever would have done myself. I guess I underestimated her. She cried out again and again as her pelvic muscles clenched, ready for orgasm. Meanwhile, my dick was still completely popped and on the verge of joining in, precum still dribbling down the sides.

As her orgasm started to take hold, April suddenly lunged for my defenseless member, putting her hands to it. I could tell it took an enormous amount of will for her not to wreck me, to finish me off. Now she too was gritting her teeth, trying to hold back, but she was still touching me, still working me, and now I was back to the struggle yet again. She still had her gloves on at this point, and that very well may be the only reason I didn't come right then and there. My blissful billows of smoke re-emerged, filling me with desperation and heat as I started biting my lips, my tongue, clenching my fists, just anything to take my mind away from it. Up and down she went, seemingly oblivious to how far I was from the end of my will. Which newsflash -- I was at the end of it. I needed to tell her before it was too late. I groaned out again loudly in desperation, holding back as she continued to work me. She wasn't listening. This was bad. I couldn't have my 15 nights ruined now, I had come so far.

In the middle of what I would no doubt describe the most brutal torture I had endured yet. April stopped just long enough to remove her sweaty, precum-soaked gloves and toss them to the side of the room. My hand was even now, still inside of her working her over, and obviously she was still coming. I think she was so lost in the throes of pleasure that she wasn't fully aware of just how close I was, and with her bare hands, she got right back to work on me. 

"April, please stop!" I cried out, but not before a few seconds of her sweet, gentle hands caressing my weary cock, both soaked in slippery fluids. She did stop, and looked at me with a weirdly sad expression, realizing then that she might have pushed me too far. I arched my back and cocked my head back, my mouth agape and straining to open as wide as it possibly could. Fists still clenched, toes clenched, desperately forcing myself to ignore my body's pleas. But this was too much. This was so pointless. Why were we doing this? Who cared about some punishment? I just wanted to come for this girl, that's all I wanted. My love was waiting to explode out of me and it needed to so badly. I needed to come. Right now. 

"Please," I begged again before realizing that tears were streaming down my face. There were a couple of nights before this one where I could feel myself getting genuinely emotionally upset, but after just now, no. It was too much. I broke into full sobs, embarrassed as hell about it, but I couldn't help it. There had definitely been times when I had wanted to cry before, but I really didn't want her to have to see that part of me. "Please April, just let me come. Let's just forget about this whole thing. Please. I need to come. Like right now. Please."

Seeing me in such a state, April tilted her head and just stared for a few seconds. I was so mad at myself for letting it happen, but here I was now, a matted mess of tears and still on the verge of coming. Only then, April started to cry too. First, it was just the occasional sniffle, but then it turned into long, sniffling sobs as she fell on top of me. We cried in each other's arms for a good five minutes, kissing and licking each other's tears and smiling and making out and then crying some more. I had only partially lost my desire, but something about what had just happened kind of ruined the bet for us. 

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay what?" I asked, not wanting to get my hopes up.

"Look, if we're gonna do this, then I'm gonna need you to come as hard as you possibly can. Okay?"

I looked at her, both of our eyes still glazed in tears. "You sure?"

She nodded, and slowly pulled herself up. Part of her shirt tail had come out of her skirt. It was so wrinkled from the heat today. She meekly tucked it back in, and then proceeded to get up in front of me. My dick was still poking up straight into the air. She gingerly pulled up the sides of her skirt, which was still dripping with her juices, and slowly came down onto me. I wanted to milk this for all it was worth, so I continued to hold back, which after the five-minute break was very easy to do.

April slowly raised and lowered herself onto me, her tight little cocoon slipping over and squeezing the living daylights out of my aching cock. 

"Let me know when you get to the edge, okay? I want to feel that for a minute," she requested.

I smiled back at her, the two of us both still wiping tears from our eyes. I hadn't come in 15 days, and now I was ready to blow. I was ready to blow my innards all up into her. I felt the repeated plumes of lava bake and work their way over me as I approached the edge of my will, and within a short time of her milking me up, I was there.

"Okay, okay, I'm there," I whispered. April stopped and just looked deeply into my eyes. I returned her gaze, loving this girl so fucking much right now that I couldn't describe it. I was fully inside her, baking inside of her hot body, ready to fill her with love. April fell into tears again, but maintained her physical composure on me. As a result, I too started crying again. Was she really going to let me have this? Was it finally over?

As if reading my mind, she said, "Okay. Fill me up." She slowly started moving up and down again, not quite all the way up or all the way down just yet. Against what had practically become second nature at this point, I allowed my abdominal muscles to relax. It was finally, finally, oh god, finally time for me to release. We didn't break eye contact the entire time. I brushed up against the edge of my will, but this time, I relaxed. I allowed the raging heat to finally wash over me. I didn't hold up against it. I gave myself completely over to it. Gave myself completely over to my girl. My April. She could see on my face that I was about to come, and that's when she finally allowed herself to come all the way down, sinking me fully into her. She arched her back and cried out as she lowered herself into me, taking all of me in.

I cried out as well as I felt my hot, scalding cream spew up and out of me, splashing and splishing her insides again and again. With every thrust she granted me, I felt divine explosions of pleasure coursing through my whole body as I spurted up more thick, hot, frothy cum into her again. And then again. And then again. Every single time I gushed, it was like a singular moment in time that I would love to hold onto forever. We both smiled tearfully at each other, breathing like crazy, still not breaking eye contact as I continued to explode with hot, heavenly spurts of love up into her. And every time she lowered herself and took me in, I could feel the raging heat of my next spurt lining up to be pumped and splooged up and into my girl. We continued on like this for what must have been six or seven minutes, all 15 days of holding back coming out of me now, soaking and blasting a very exhausted and sweaty April right in her most sensitive, vulnerable center.

When it was finally over, April collapsed onto me, completely drenched from head to toe. No, her toes were definitely drenched, as her shoes had been on for close to 18 hours at this point. We had ourselves another good cry, but we were both so tired that we fell asleep in our clothes. Poor April woke up the next morning feeling like she had just stepped out of a kiln. All of her clothes, including her outer dress shirt, were completely sodden. She just barely had time to undress, shower, and redress for the next day. By bedtime tonight, she will have been in heels for 40 hours straight, not counting shower time. She has called off the bet and promised me a foot job again tonight. Little does she know I'm going to take her out and propose. I'm so excited I can't even think straight.