I sighed. The clock radio read 4:22 am; slightly later than the previous night, but the same dream. Again. I’d lost count of how many nights in a ro... it had been.Beside me, Tom, my boyfriend stirred. “You okay, Catherine?” He’d learnt well that I didn’t like ‘Cathy’ or ‘Cate’. And I especially hated ‘darling’, ‘babe’ or any pet name.“Yes. Just a dream. Go back to sleep.”I’d forgotten he was there, but it was Saturday night. Well, Sunday morning really. So where else would he be? We seldom went. He knew she was a light sleeper and she expected him to be there when she woke up on his days off. He wondered how many hours he would have to lay here aching and struggling with his urges. Getting hard, going soft and then getting hard again. Over and over.He had only himself to blame for his predicament. It was almost two years ago that he broached the topic of orgasm denial to her, which she thought was a ludicrous idea. He tried in vain to make it as palatable as possible to incorporate it. More

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