It’s only been nine days since my last orgasm, but in my current state, it feels longer. I always seem to accelerate when apart from Belle. First, of course, I miss her. Terribly. She doesn’t travel as much as she used to, but that’s little consolation. Now that she owns the cock and everything I can do with it, I feel her absence that much more acutely. Second, my consumption of sexually stimulating content (aka, porn) goes through the roof. That has always been the case during her trips, but in the old days, her return found me totally sexually spent from multiple marathon masturbatory sessions. Now, she gets to come home to a buzzing bundle of hormones with a swollen prostate and grabby hands.
At some point before she left, Belle suggested I might not come again until July 4th, leaving the entire month of June an orgasmless dessert (for me, anyway). If her fixation of holidays continues…then what? Labor Day? Conveniently, that falls on my birthday this year. After Labor Day, the next date of significance is our anniversary in mid-October. Thanksgiving would be about six weeks later. Six weeks. That’s a long time. After Thanksgiving…well, I’m sure you have a calendar.
Anyway, I have a hiking trip coming up in a few weeks which will take me away from Belle for about a week. It’s entirely impracticle to imagine she’d keep me locked up while hiking the Rockies with a group of friends, though she did make an evil joke in that direction at one point. It’s really going to suck being so far away from her and unlocked.
As you can see, I really don’t have much of significance to talk about today. I did smack my balls around quite a bit last night. It’s a bit tricky with all the plastic in the way, but I’m figuring out some techniques that allow maximum vulnerability and minimum accidental ring contact. For some reason, slapping, punching, and otherwise bruising my nuts is a barrel of fun, but pinching them against the ring with an errant blow puts me on the wrong side of pain street. Bad pain, good pain. Belle’s done a little exploratory teste abuse, but nothing like the levels of force I use against myself. Interestingly, since I know the blows are coming, they don’t seem to be as shocking as those Belle delivers, even though hers are much lighter. I think she’s still worried about seriously damaging me down there. In any event, what I’m looking for is not necessarily the sting of immediate impact, but the long, slow burn of the ache that creeps up out of my nuts and sits in the pit of my stomach. It never seems to linger long enough. Somehow, through the alchemy of intense sexual frustration, the worst kind of pain a man can experience in his most vulnerable spot has magically transformed into something I truly crave. I could have done it all night.
But, as I’ve learned several times already, sleepless nights are no fun afterward. At about 12:45 I popped a single Tylenol PM and waited for it to do its work. Eventually, maybe and hour later, I fell asleep. Thinking of Belle, wishing she was with me.