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Mike and Candy - Why do Guys stop when a woman is going to squirt!

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By *ikeEx OP   Man 15 weeks ago

Near Alfreton, Derbyshire

Inspired by a forum post where a woman asked "Why do guys stop, when I say I'm going to squirt!?"

The evening light had softened to a deep amber, filtering through the blinds in warm stripes across the bedroom floor. Candy lay on her side, watching Mike fold the last of their laundry, his movements methodical and sure. The domesticity of it, the quiet competence, settled something deep in her bones. He caught her eye, a small smile touching his lips as he placed the final folded towel on the pile.

"All set," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards and into her. He crossed the room, not with haste, but with that steady, purposeful stride she found so grounding. He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. "How are you feeling?"

The question was routine, a check-in he never failed to make, especially after a long day. Candy shifted, a familiar ache settling in her lower back, a dull reminder of her body's constant negotiation with itself. "Stiff," she admitted, her voice quiet. "But manageable."

Mike's hand found her hip, his thumb tracing slow circles over the fabric of her sleep pants. The touch was both comforting and charged, a silent language they'd long since mastered. "Let me help with that," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. His breath was warm against her skin, and she felt the first stirrings of a different kind of ache, one that had nothing to do with her condition and everything to do with him.

She rolled onto her stomach, a silent invitation, and he understood immediately. His hands moved to her lower back, applying firm, steady pressure that made her muscles sigh in relief. He knew her body's map of pain and pleasure, the precise spots that needed attention, the ones that would make her gasp not from discomfort but from delight. As his fingers worked, she felt the tension begin to uncoil, replaced by a growing warmth that spread through her pelvis.

"Mike," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Hmm?" he responded, his hands never ceasing their rhythmic motion.

"I want... I want to feel it tonight."

He paused, his hands stilling on her back. She knew he understood what she meant. It was their shared secret, their mutual fascination, the thing that had once been a source of frustration for her and was now a cornerstone of their intimacy. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "You've had a long day."

"I'm sure," she said, turning her head to meet his gaze. "I want to feel everything."

He studied her face for a moment, his expression unreadable but intense. Then he nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. "Okay," he said. "But we do this my way. Slowly. No rushing."

A shiver ran through her, anticipation coiling in her stomach. "Okay," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly.

He helped her turn over, arranging the pillows behind her back to support her spine. His movements were careful, precise, as if he were handling something precious. And in a way, he was. He was handling her trust, her vulnerability, her deepest desires.

His hands returned to her body, but this time their purpose had shifted. They were no longer just soothing sore muscles; they were stoking a fire. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbones. Each touch was deliberate, a question and an answer all at once. She arched into him, her body responding to his silent commands.

"Relax," he murmured, his lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss that left her breathless. "Let me take care of you."

And she did. She let go of the day's stresses, of the persistent ache in her back, of everything but the sensation of his hands on her skin, his mouth on hers. She let herself drift on the current of pleasure he was creating, her body growing warmer, softer, more receptive.

His fingers dipped lower, skimming the waistband of her pants before slipping beneath the fabric. She gasped as he found her, already slick with desire. He moved with an unhurried confidence that made her head spin, his touch both gentle and demanding. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to build the pressure until she was trembling on the edge of release.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "I'm close."

"I know," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear. "But not yet."

He slowed his movements, drawing out the anticipation until she was writhing beneath him, desperate for more. It was a game they played, a dance of control and surrender that left them both breathless. He would bring her to the brink, only to pull back, prolonging the exquisite torture until she was begging for release.

"Please," she whimpered, her body arching off the bed. "Please, Mike."

"Not yet," he repeated, his tone firm but not unkind. "Wait for it."

He shifted position, settling between her legs, his eyes locked on hers. The intensity in his gaze made her heart pound, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. He lowered his head, and she felt the first flicker of his tongue against her.

A cry escaped her lips, her hips bucking involuntarily. He held her down, his hands firm on her thighs, his mouth working its magic. The pressure built again, faster this time, more intense. She could feel it gathering, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands tangling in his hair. "I'm going to... I'm going to squirt."

This was the moment that had once been her undoing, the point where previous partners had pulled away, misunderstanding her body's response. But Mike didn't pull back. Instead, he doubled down, his tongue moving with renewed purpose, his hands holding her steady as the wave crested.

"Let go," he commanded, his voice muffled against her. "Let go for me."

And she did. The release was explosive, a gush of fluid that left her shaking and breathless. Mike didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. He drank from her, his movements sure and confident, as if he were savoring the very essence of her pleasure.

But Mike didn't completely stop, he kept touching her, to keep her on the edge.

teasing, knowing how her body responded, Mike wanted her to squirt again. He wanted to taste her again.

"Mike," she breathed, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. "Again?"

"Again," he confirmed, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel you come apart for me again."

He shifted, positioning himself so he could watch her face as he touched her. His fingers found her clit, circling slowly, deliberately. She gasped, her hips rising to meet his touch. The sensitivity was almost overwhelming, but it was a delicious kind of pain, one that made her crave more.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his free hand stroking her thigh. "So responsive."

She could only moan in response, her body arching as he increased the pressure. The pleasure built again, faster this time, more intense. She could feel the familiar tightening in her pelvis, the gathering pressure that signaled another release.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands clutching at the sheets. "I can't... I can't hold back."

"Don't," he commanded, his voice firm. "Don't hold back. Give it all to me."

His words were the final push she needed. The wave crashed over her again, even more powerful than the first. She cried out, her body convulsing as the pleasure ripped through her. Mike held her through it, his touch steady and reassuring, grounding her as she flew apart.

When it was over, she collapsed against the pillows, her body limp and sated. Mike moved to lie beside her, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Mike," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "That was..."

"I know," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But we're not done yet."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. "We're not?"

"No," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "We're just getting started."

He helped her sit up, arranging the pillows behind her back once more. He took the water glass from her, setting it on the nightstand. Then he knelt before her, his hands resting on her knees.

"I want to try something," he said, his voice low and serious. "Something new."

"What is it?" she asked, her heart starting to pound again.

"I want to see how many times I can make you squirt," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "I want to push you to your limit, to see how much pleasure you can handle."

A shiver ran through her, a mixture of fear and excitement. "Mike, I don't know if I can..."

"You can," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "And you will. Trust me."

She did trust him. With every fiber of her being, she trusted him. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

He smiled, a slow, predatory grin that made her stomach flip. "Good girl," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs. "Now, let's see what you're made of."

His fingers found her again, and she gasped, her body already responding to his touch. He started slow, building the pressure gradually, teasing her until she was writhing beneath him. The pleasure built, a slow, steady burn that made her ache for more.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Please..."

"Not yet," he said, his tone firm. "Wait for it."

He kept her on the edge for what felt like an eternity, drawing out the anticipation until she was begging for release. Then, just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he gave her what she wanted.

The release was explosive, a gush of fluid that hit him squarely in the chest, spraying back onto her breasts. He didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss as her body convulsed with pleasure.

When the wave subsided, he pulled back, a triumphant grin on his face. "One," he said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Only ten more to go to beat our record."

Candy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and excitement coursing through her veins. Ten more? She wasn't sure if she could handle it, but with Mike, she was willing to try.

"Bring it on," she whispered, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Bring it on."

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made her heart pound. "Oh, I will," he promised, his hands already moving to bring her to the brink once more. "I will."

The night stretched before them, a canvas of endless possibility. And as Mike's hands worked their magic, Candy surrendered herself to the pleasure, to the trust, to the man who knew her body better than she did. She was home. She was safe. And she was about to experience the most intense pleasure of her life.

***

The room was a symphony of soft sounds and warm, damp air. The scent of their exertion mingled with the clean smell of the fresh sheets Mike had thoughtfully laid down after the third or fourth wave. Candy had lost count. Her body was no longer entirely her own; it was an instrument Mike was playing with masterful, devastating precision.

"Five," he'd murmured against her inner thigh after the last one, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "You're doing so well."

She could only whimper in response, her muscles trembling with a combination of exhaustion and overstimulation. He'd paused then, letting her catch her breath, pressing the cool glass of water to her lips. She drank greedily, the liquid a balm to her parched throat. He watched her, his gaze intense, a predator admiring its willing prey.

"Ready for more?" he asked, his thumb stroking her cheek.

She nodded, unable to form words. She was floating in a haze of pleasure, her mind blissfully blank, her body a conduit for the sensations he was creating. He smiled, a slow, predatory grin that made her stomach flip.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hands sliding back down her body. "Let's see if we can make it six."

His fingers found her again, and she gasped, her body arching off the bed. The sensitivity was almost overwhelming, but it was a delicious kind of pain, one that made her crave more. He moved with an unhurried confidence that made her head spin, his touch both gentle and demanding. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to build the pressure until she was trembling on the edge of release.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "I'm close."

"I know," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear. "But not yet."

He slowed his movements, drawing out the anticipation until she was writhing beneath him, desperate for more. It was a game they played, a dance of control and surrender that left them both breathless. He would bring her to the brink, only to pull back, prolonging the exquisite torture until she was begging for release.

"Please," she whimpered, her body arching off the bed. "Please, Mike."

"Not yet," he repeated, his tone firm but not unkind. "Wait for it."

He shifted position, settling between her legs again. lowering his head, she felt the flicker of his tongue against her clit.

A cry escaped her lips, her hips bucking involuntarily. He held her down, his hands firm on her thighs, his mouth working its magic. The pressure built again, faster this time, more intense. She could feel it gathering, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands tangling in his hair. "oh my fucking..... god."

This was the moment that had once been her undoing, the point where previous partners had pulled away, misunderstanding her body's response. But Mike didn't pull back. Instead, he doubled down, his tongue moving with renewed purpose, his hands holding her steady as the wave crested.

"You want to cum?" he teased, "you want to squirt for me?"

"Yes, fuck yes!" she begged.

"Cum for me, squirt for me." he calmly demanded

And she did. The release was explosive, another gush of fluid that left her shaking and breathless. like before, he didn't squirm. He drank from her again, his movements sure and confident, savoring the very essence of her pleasure.

"Six," he murmured, pulling back to look at her. His chest glistened in the dim light, and she felt a fresh wave of arousal at the sight. He was magnificent, a god of pleasure, and she was his willing devotee.

The Pillows seemed to take a beating, and they constantly moved each time Candy had an orgasm and squirted, He rearranged the pillows behind her back once more. He took the water glass from her, setting it on the nightstand. Then he knelt before her, his hands resting on her knees.

"I want to try something," he said, his voice low and serious. "Something new."

"What is it?" she asked, her heart starting to pound again.

"I want to be inside you when you come," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel you squeeze around me as you let go."

A shiver ran through her, a mixture of fear and excitement. "Mike, I don't know if I can..."

She was in pain, but the pleasure was overriding it.

"You can," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "And you will. Trust me."

She did trust him. With every fiber of her being, she trusted him. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

He smiled, a slow, predatory grin that made her stomach flip. "Good girl," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs. "Now, let's see what you're made of."

He positioned himself over her, his body a warm, heavy weight that anchored her to the bed. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, a promise of what was to come. He entered her slowly, deliberately, giving her body time to adjust to the intrusion. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely.

"Mike," she breathed, her body arching to meet his. "Oh, Mike."

He began to move, his strokes slow and deep, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through her. The angle was different, the pressure more intense. She could feel the familiar tightening in her pelvis, the gathering pressure that signaled another release.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands clutching at his back. "I'm going to... I'm going to squirt."

"I know," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear. "Let go. Let go for me."

His words were the final push she needed. Another wave crashed over her again, even more powerful than the last. She cried out, her body convulsing as the pleasure ripped through her.

When it was over, she collapsed against the pillows, her body limp and sated. Mike moved to lie beside her, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Seven," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Only three more to go, but you messed the pillows up again." he teased

Candy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and excitement coursing through her veins. Three more? She wasn't sure if she could handle it, but with Mike, she was willing to try.

"Bring it on," she whispered, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Bring it on."

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made her heart pound. "Oh, I will," he promised, his hands already moving to bring her to the brink once more. "I will."

The night stretched before them, a canvas of endless possibility. And as Mike's hands worked their magic, Candy surrendered herself to the pleasure, to the trust, to the man who knew her body better than she did. She was home. She was safe. And she was about to experience the most intense pleasure of her life.

***

It was nights like these, that Mike bought Candy two lovers blankets, which were waterproof and saved the bedding from getting soaked.

Mike's hands were on her again, a steady, confident presence that made her body hum with anticipation. He'd shifted her, arranging her so she was straddling his lap, her back pressed against his chest. The new position gave him unrestricted access, and he took full advantage, one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her steady while the other delved between her legs.

"Relax," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just feel."

And she did. She let herself drift on the current of pleasure he was creating, her body growing warmer, softer, more receptive. His fingers moved with an unhurried confidence that made her head spin, his touch both gentle and demanding. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to build the pressure until she was trembling on the edge of release.

"Mike," she gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder. "I'm close."

"I know," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear. "But not yet."

He slowed his movements, drawing out the anticipation until she was writhing against him, desperate for more. It was a game they played, a dance of control and surrender that left them both breathless. He would bring her to the brink, only to pull back, prolonging the exquisite torture until she was begging for release.

"Please," she whimpered, her body arching against him. "Please, Mike."

"Not yet," he increased the pressure, "Wait for it."

His fingers moved faster, more insistent, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel the familiar tightening in her pelvis, the gathering pressure that signaled another release.

"Mike," she gasped, her hands clutching at his arms. "I'm going to... I'm can't hold it any more."

"I know," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear. "Let go. Let go for me."

His words were the final push she needed. Each wave Candy started to experience was much more intense than the last. She cried out, her body convulsing as the pleasure ripped through her, he mouth wanted to tell Mike to stop, her body was convulsing and didnt know what it wanted, and Candy's mind wanted to keep going.

After she squirted 8, 9 and 10 times, Mike realised the glass was empty. he gave her a few minutes rest and replenished the glass, bringing it back and placing next to her on the night stand.

"We have one more, and this time, you are not going to cum or squirt until i say you can squirt."

Rubbing her clit again, fingering her pussy, he could feel the warm and the tension building up inside her.

He moved around, and placed his head between her legs.

with his left hand, he pushed the hood of her clitoris back to expose everything she had.

Teasing her, he blew a cold jet of air from his mouth to her clit. "Oh shit.. I'm going to explode" she shouted.

This time, he voice was loud, Mike knew that the residents in the flat downstairs would easily have heard her.

with his right hand, he teased, "Not yet, you cum when I say you cum, you squirt when I allow you to squirt... you got that?"

"Yes, I understand, but I am struggling to... oh Mike... I can't hold it any more"

Mike was directly inline with her clit, the hood lifted and he could see the tiny hole that was about to shoot at him.

"Cum for me, do it now!" he demanded. this time, Candy didn't only give into her body, but she forced herself, as much as her tired body would allow.

The jet stream was like a firemans hose, the shot hit Mike hard in the face, he breathed in at the wrong time, choking, Mike was almost drowning on Candy's flow.

It took what felt like minutes for him to breathe normally, Candy couldn't move, she was exhausted, happy, but well and truly used.

***

The morning light was a soft, hazy gray, filtering through the blinds in muted stripes across the bedroom floor. Candy stirred, a deep, satisfying ache settling in her muscles, a pleasant reminder of the night's exertions. She blinked her eyes open, her gaze falling on Mike, who was already awake, watching her with a soft, tender expression.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards and into her. He reached out, his hand finding her hip, his thumb tracing slow circles over her skin.

"Morning," she replied, her voice hoarse from sleep and their previous activities. She shifted, testing her body's response. The familiar stiffness was there, but it was different this time, a good kind of sore, a testament to the pleasure they'd shared.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

"Good," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Really, really good."

He returned her smile, a look of deep satisfaction in his eyes. "You were incredible last night," he said, his voice full of admiration. "Absolutely incredible."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, a rare occurrence for her. "You weren't so bad yourself," she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made her heart pound. "I'm glad you think so," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "But seriously, are you okay? We pushed it pretty hard."

"I'm okay," she assured him, her hand finding his. "More than okay. I feel... alive. Recharged."

He studied her face for a moment, his expression unreadable but intense. Then he nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. "Good," he said. "That's what I wanted to hear."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire.

"You know," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. "We still have the whole day ahead of us."

A shiver ran through her, a mixture of anticipation and excitement. "Is that a promise?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"It's whatever you want it to be," he said, his tone serious but gentle. "Your call."

She considered it for a moment, her body already responding to the prospect of another round of pleasure. But then she thought about the day ahead, the things they needed to do, the quiet moments they could share outside the bedroom.

"Let's have a lazy morning," she said, her decision made. "And then we'll see where the day takes us. After all, I nearly caused you to drown lastnight, so maybe we both need a lazy morning!"

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made her heart melt. "I like that plan," he said, pulling her into his arms. "A lazy morning it is."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the soft rustle of the sheets and the steady rhythm of their breathing. Candy rested her head on Mike's chest, listening to the comforting beat of his heart. She felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved.

"Mike?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Hmm?" he responded, his hand stroking her hair.

"Th]ank you," she said, her words full of emotion. "For everything."

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Always," he murmured. "Always."

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the morning light and the comfort of his embrace, Candy knew she was exactly where she was meant to be. She was home.

***

The lazy morning stretched into a comfortable afternoon. They moved around the apartment with an easy familiarity, Mike making coffee while Candy showered, the steam from the bathroom mingling with the rich aroma of the brew. They ate breakfast at the small table by the window, the city waking up outside, a distant hum of life that felt worlds away from their intimate bubble.

Candy found herself watching Mike as he read the news on his tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration. She loved these quiet moments, the simple domesticity that grounded their relationship. But beneath the surface contentment, a question nagged at her, a ghost from her past that refused to be silenced.

"Mike?" she said, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

He looked up, his expression softening as he met her gaze. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug.

"Of course," he said, setting the tablet aside. "Anything."

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Last night... it was amazing. But it got me thinking about... before."

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his full attention on her. "Before?"

"Before you," she clarified, her gaze dropping to her mug. "The guys I was with... they'd always stop when I told them I was going to squirt. It was so frustrating. I never understood why."

Mike was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I think," he said, his voice low and serious, "they were probably intimidated. Or misinformed. A lot of people don't understand it, think it's something weird or even... gross."

Candy looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Gross? But it's just... a natural response. A sign of pleasure."

"For us, yes," he agreed. "But for someone who's never experienced it, or who's only seen it in porn where it's often exaggerated or faked, it can be... a lot. They might not know what to do with it, so they pull back."

She shook her head, a frown creasing her brow. "But that's so... selfish. They're missing out on something incredible, and they're denying their partner that pleasure."

"They are," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "But that's their loss. And honestly, it says more about them than it does about you."

She squeezed his hand, a wave of gratitude washing over her. "I'm so glad I found you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You've never made me feel weird or ashamed about it. You've always... embraced it."

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made her heart melt. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "It's part of you. And I love every part of you."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back, not wanting to break the moment. "I love you too," she whispered, her words full of conviction.

He stood up, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He held her close, his arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace.

"You know," he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. "We don't have to wait until tonight. We could... explore that question a little more. Right now."

A shiver ran through her, a mixture of surprise and excitement. "Mike, we just..."

Mike smiled back at Candy, he knew she wasn't ready, and he knew that it may take her a couple of days to properly rehydrate.

"you know, I want to make you squirt everytime we fuck!" he told her.

Candy's breath hitched, a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her veins. "Every time?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Every single time," he confirmed, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel you come apart for me, over and over again. I want to taste you, to drink you in, to lose myself in your pleasure."

She could only nod, her mind reeling from the intensity of his words. He was offering her everything she'd ever wanted, everything she'd ever been denied. He was accepting her, celebrating her, in a way no one ever had.

"Okay," she whispered, her decision made. "Okay, But not today.... please!" She pleaded.

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By *udgyMan 15 weeks ago

Liverpool

If l ever have the chance to make a women squirt l wouldn't be stopping hehe

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