Seconds Out
Koss eased themselves up onto their haunches and wiped their brow. "Fuck, Anzha, how do you do that with your tongue?”
“Are you complaining?” grinned Anzha, peering up from between Koss's thighs and admiring the sheen of sweat the slender human had worked up over the last hour or so. She'd really put them through their paces.
“No. No, no, no. Literally everything you just did was incredible. There's only one thing I don't like.” Slowly, they worked some life back into their muscles and sat up. “You should cum too. I think you've earned it.”
Anzha tensed a little. When she spoke, it was almost imperceptibly quieter. “Stay there and lie back for me. I like to have something to stroke myself off to…” Already she was reaching down, feathering her fat, twitching cock with a couple of fingertips, but a hand on her shoulder made her pause.
“No. Not tonight. I want to try something different.” Anzha's lover stood and dropped into a crouch next to the bed, patting the sheets where they'd been. “Sit up, dear.”
Anzha stood up slowly, knees dark and sore from so long pressed against the floorboards. She perched herself on the edge of the bed, uneasy. “I'm excited, Koss… I've been holding back but I don't think I can take very much, I'm sorry…”
“No worries!” came Koss's voice from under the bed. “I brought something to help.”
She sighed, her powerful frame deflating a little. “You really shouldn't have, that stuff's so expensive.” And it barely helps, she thought, recalling her first time with the desensitizing rub the alchemists had brewed for her.
“This didn't cost me a penny. Had it already.” Finally, Koss unfolded themselves, holding up a small, dusty glass cylinder. “And I think it'll help you.” They pulled the nightstand down to the foot of the bed and laid a pillow next to it for their knees. “At my age,” they said, “you have to take care of your poor old legs.”
“What is this?” Anzha asked, trying to catch a better look at whatever Koss was holding. But, before she could say anything more, her lover's slender fingers were around the dark green swell of her cock and she was fighting to hold back the rush, the surge of beautiful sensation that was always over far, far too soon. Her balls tightened between her thighs and she felt a drop of silvery pre-seed leak forth unbidden from the throbbing tip of her shaft. “Koss!” she gasped.
“Look.” With her free hand, the human flipped the cylinder over and set it down on the nightstand, revealing it for what it was: a simple hourglass full of fine blue sand, trickling down through the aperture into a neat little pile. It couldn’t have represented much more than a few minutes. Anzha stared at it, and then down at Koss, who locked eyes with her.
“Don’t cum,” they whispered, “until the sand runs down.”
If Anzha had been able to focus for long enough to speak, she’d have protested. She’d have told Koss that no, there was no way she could last that long, not even with her own hand, let alone their skilled grasp, and stupid props and games weren’t going to fix her, and, and, and…
And how dare they give her a challenge. Because a woman like her absolutely could not resist a challenge.
Their hand was just barely moving. At a glance, it would have been imperceptible, but, to the hypersensitive nerve endings that were firing off wave after wave of shivering bliss through her whole body, those slight shifts of skin against skin were paradise. The kind of paradise she couldn’t stay in for long – but no, she couldn’t think that, she mustn’t. She had to stay.
She fixed her eyes on the hourglass. The trickle of sand was painfully slow, but already the cone covered the bottom of the glass, and the level was rising. If she had to guess, it was about one tenth full. Nine more to go.
Perhaps she could at least make it halfway?
Oh, but their fingers, Koss’s fingers were pressing into her one at a time, rippling outwards almost as though they were trying to get her to slip. Just half an inch further up and they’d be rubbing against that most sensitive spot just beneath the head, and then she’d really be fucked. She could feel her orgasm building already, a hot, wet knot building at the base of her cock, so heavy and full and strong that it felt like second nature to let go, let loose, coat herself and Koss with sticky white…
Was this some sick joke? Were they trying to humiliate her? Was this a long con, were they just like the others who were piteous or amused or angry when she let loose after only a few thrusts inside them? It would be fair, wouldn’t it? Only fair to point and laugh at the weak, useless girl she became the moment she got her cock wet.
“Good,” said Koss softly, and Anzha realized that she had not, in fact, orgasmed yet.
She was close, though. And, gods, she was getting closer, because they’d started to stroke her now in earnest, ever so slowly pumping their fist up and down the length of her – their fingers only just encircled her at her thickest, but her grip felt all-enveloping, not unlike the hot, eager pussies and vice-tight behinds she tasted all too rarely nowadays. She dug her fingers into the mattress, bit down hard on her lip, but Koss was relentless. She glanced back at the nightstand.
There was a lot more sand in the bottom now. Still a long way to go, but already she was doing better than she’d expected.
Every last mote of skin and flesh, every thumping heartbeat, was urging her to cum. There was a slight aching pain deep in the pit of her stomach, the tension of holding back, and her thoughts drifted to how easy it would be to stop trying. But that was exactly why she couldn’t. Koss had made a demand, and, genuine challenge or cruel mockery, she was not giving up.
The rhythm was evening out now; Koss had found her tempo, and the slow, easy stroke pushed Anzha a fraction closer to the point of no return with each downward press and each upward pull. She shut her eyes. Something tangy hit her tongue and she realized her teeth were on the verge of drawing blood; she broke her bite and tried to breathe evenly, but the air came fast and shallow and she was practically hyperventilating now, breaths punctuated with barely-coherent moans of need.
She wasn’t going to make it. Even if she held out now, kept trying, devoted every ounce of will to not cumming, it wouldn’t be enough. Not now, not ever. The alchemists hadn’t helped. The mages hadn’t helped. Why had she ever allowed herself to think this would help? She didn’t dare look down at Koss for fear of the hopeful smile she might see, and how it’d turn in an instant to sour disappointment when she started to pulse and twitch and spill her seed.
The pleasure ebbed for a moment as Koss slowed her stroke back down. “Anzha. Look at the glass.”
Moving slowly, almost painfully tense for fear of moving a muscle that would rub her hair-trigger cock just a little too much, she opened her eyes and turned her head.
“You’re halfway.”
And she was. She was a little more than halfway, actually, and the image echoed through her head, drowning out the whirlwind of thought. She’d met her own challenge.
“You’re doing so well, my dear.”
A warmth swelled in her stomach, far deeper and stronger than the mere strokes of sexual excitement. She was doing so well. She was doing well for herself, but – and it felt more important in that moment – she was doing so very, very well for Koss.
She was a good girl.
She came.
***
“Anzha?”
The warm, angular presence overlapping her brought Anzha back to reality. She’d fallen back onto the mattress, legs dangling down off the edge. A warm, heavy cloud filled her brain, and Koss’s fingers stroking her scalp through her wiry hair gave her a pleasant buzz.
“Anzha…” They kissed her forehead, and she smiled a small, sleepy smile.
Lucid thoughts drifted back in, sluggish and unwelcome. Specifically, they were thoughts of an hourglass a little more than half done.
“I didn’t make it,” groaned Anzha quietly.
“Anzha,” murmured Koss, “I’m proud of you.”
That made her open her eyes with a start.
“That hourglass,” they went on, “was for five minutes. You held out for three.”
And that drew a gasp from Anzha’s lips. Three minutes! No way that could have been three minutes.
As if reading her thoughts, Koss said, “Really. You can check the glass if you want.”
“You were barely touching me,” said Anzha. “I couldn’t even last through…”
Koss’s hand on her hip quieted her.
“I don’t care. If this was just the first time, think how well you can do in future… how long you can last…”
Their fingertips were trailing around, grasping Anzha’s shaft, still covered in sticky white seed but already stirring to hardness again. She must have been out a while, or else she was recovering unusually quickly.
“I am so fucking proud of you.”
With a few quick, messy strokes, she was cumming again, coating her stomach with even more pearly white. And, for the first time in years, she did so with no shame whatsoever.
***
