I’m on my business trip. The one that will keep me from home for three days. Belle had previously said she wanted me locked up while I was away, but she neglected to specifically order me into the device this morning before she left. I seriously considered not putting it on for a while. It would be so much easier, I thought, to sit in a plane for a few hours and get up and speak in front of hundreds of people if I didn’t have a fucking plastic tube locked on me. Since she hadn’t said to put it on, maybe she had a change of heart.
I knew what she wanted, though. I also knew, considering my porn/masturbation habits while in bland corporate hotel rooms, that I’d minimally be edging myself pretty much nonstop. I also knew that eventually my hormone-addled brain would find a way to sabotage my best intentions and I’d find myself covered in hot, pungent spunk. So I put myself in the device and snapped plastic lock 000667 into place. You can see it there in my mug shot on the right if you want proof (kinda blurry since I took it with my phone).
The thing is, I’m pretty sure I’d have blown it already had I not been locked away. Belle allowed me to bring her to orgasm with the vibrator last night and then let me spend about 10 minutes beating off…I really, really wish I could be doing it again right now.
Before that, Belle and I talked about the “week off” we just went through. It was a full week off since, besides the three orgasms she let me have at the B&B, she also let me come inside her Saturday morning (which I didn’t really expect). Thing is, it wasn’t all that great of a week, from my perspective. Yeah, I liked the spurting, but I actually missed the feelings that come from being denied by Belle. I like the kind of mate I am when I don’t come (either by my own hand or while having sex with her). I’m not as attentive to her needs and my timely contributions to the housework suffers. I’m not an asshole or anything, but I can totally see how I’m different and I don’t really like it.
It’s interesting to me how simple it is to fuck with millions of years of evolutionary programming. My inclination, when having “normal” levels of sexual release, is to be more self-interested and less aware of her and her needs. In the past, my interest in courting her was directly related to how badly I wanted in her pants. But it was always fleeting. Once I got what I wanted, things would go back to normal which all too often meant she carried too much of the household load and my interest in TV was greater than my interest in her. I am not unique. I suspect that the vast majority of men are like I was. To reverse all that behavior, all it takes is to move control over my sexual release to her. That simple little thing, and I’m all about her all of the time, constantly looking for ways to make her happy, which in turn, makes me happy. Happier than I am when I can come whenever I want.
The change in me is so profound, I’m sure it leads her to question a few things (at least it raises questions for me). Like why should she have to do this to make me a better mate? After considering it for a while, I think all we’re doing is exploiting how the male brain works. We’re basically tricking my brain into engaging a prolonged and heightened “courtship mode” – not unlike how it was operating at the very beginning of our relationship – by withholding its ability to do the one thing reptilian male brains were programmed to do: spread the seed. So it’s still me, still my feelings about her at work, but amplified. At the end of the day, I don’t ever want Belle to feel guilty for denying me. I don’t want her to feel as though she’s being unfair or mean to me. As I said, I like how it feels. Perversely, the more she lets me pleasure her while I’m denied, the closer I get to her. If she let me fuck her to orgasm five times a week, I’d find it easier to drift away from her. That’s irony.
Personally, I think we’ve stumbled upon the secret to a happy relationship. I think everyone should be doing it.