I have a lot of conflicting thoughts right now.
Last night and tonight, Belle was out after work and not home until late. Yesterday, it was supposed to be just a quick thing, over at six, but she didn’t get home until after 10:00. She was tired and quickly went to sleep. Tonight, she was out again at a work dinner, got home after ten, and was quickly asleep. Both nights, I whiled away the hours between being Mr. Mom and the time she got home perusing blogs, reading porn, etc. Both nights, but especially tonight, I was expectational of some kind of sexual contact. I’ll be out of town tomorrow and Saturday night meaning tonight was the last chance we’ll have to have sex until Sunday night. However, both nights, nothing. At least tonight, she remembered to let me sleep naked.
I know, I know, I know. This is the deal. She gets to be the one to decide. But fuck, it’s hard. It’s hard because all I can think about now is sex. It’s hard because I’m still all locked up and Sunday will be one month without an orgasm. It’s hard, because when the cock’s trying to be erect and stuffing the device full, my nuts feel twice their normal size and I’m left absently stroking the hard plastic tube like it’ll lead to something. I’ve never been here before. On the one hand, I want to be the denied, chastised husband. The one who’s always horny and has no sexual power, but on the other, she just kinda fell asleep here two nights in a row. I know I’m not going to come (or even get out). I’m not asking for that. But I’m so, so desperate for her. I need to feel her or, alternately, at least hear her acknowledge my condition. But to just roll over and say goodnight? That’s fucking hard.
And, like I said, I’m full of confliction. As I write these words, I can see in them the appeal they’d have for a purportedly submissive male such as myself. They’re filled with frustration and inequity and reading them is like pouring lighter fluid on a fire. Outside the envelope of expectation, with my brain operating somewhat more clearly, the disappointment feeds my submission. I can actually feel warm waves of it wash up my spine with each throb of my heart. I’m locked, utterly denied, powerless. Like, really. In the past, I’d be angry. I do admit that for a few seconds, I was a little mad with her tonight, but it didn’t last long and I’m not angry now. Instead, I feel like my masculine prerogative is being popped like a stepped-on cherry. But it’s not going quietly.
My reaction tonight was very different than one I’d have had 3-6 months ago. How will I react in six more months? And how does the denial factor into this? Am I being made more docile through her control of my orgasm? Or am I really this submissive? I don’t have the answers to those questions, but I do know this: submission and denial is hard.