Twice on Sunday

Sunday morning I woke up very eager to please Belle and told her as much.

“I want to make love to you,” I said.

“How are you going to do that? I wasn’t going to let you out today.”

“We don’t need that to make love.”

“But what are we going to do?” she asked.

“Have sex. You know, the kind of sex we have now. The kind that doesn’t require the cock. There are so many options…” I trailed off as I planted sweet little kisses along her jaw and neck.

“Hmm. That’s confusing to me,” she said, “We need to call it something else. You can’t make love to me when you’re locked-up.”

“OK, how about saying I just want to make you come?”

“I’m good with that,” she said.

My thinking with regard to calling it “making love” versus just saying “making you come” was to help close the divide between what she likes and what I want from sex. For me, when she lets me pleasure her, it’s every bit as meaningful as when she lets me fuck her (whether or not I come), but I think in her mind, those acts are very different (one perfunctory and one-sided, the other romantic and inclusive). I’d like her to start equating all of our sexual encounters as acts of love making because that’s how they feel to me, even the ones where I’m left throbbing and frustrated. Guess I’ll keep working on that.

“Why do you want this?” she asked. I assume this question stemmed from of our recent bout of communication.

“Because I’m horny,” I admitted. “I’m horny and need to feel you come. You come for both of us now. And, of course, I want you to feel pleasure. And I need to feel you feeling it.”

I suppose a really good submissive would have led with the second part of that, but I just said the first thing that came to mind. I was on her because I was horny and wanted to feel the release of our (her) orgasm. Even if we were having “normal” sex, I’d still be initiating because I was horny and wanted to fuck her, right?

“OK,” she said, “Close the door.”

Sunday night, I rubbed her feet while watching the Mad Men premiere. When it was over and the TV was off, I started kissing her again. Not sure what I expected to happen since she had just come that morning, but I like the contact even when it doesn’t end in sex.

“You know,” I said tentatively, “When you leave me locked-up – when you deny me for a long time – I feel more cared for than when you don’t. It makes me feel loved.”

“Really? That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Well, I know it’s harder for you to deal with me with I’m like this, so when you do it you’re demonstrating the willingness to maintain me. I like how that feels. Like I said, it makes me feel loved. Special.”

We then had a brief exchange where she accused me of previously saying it wasn’t harder for her when I’m locked up, but, as I wrote here on Saturday, I totally acknowledge the extra effort it requires. Since we never got a chance to talk about it, I was never able to clarify my position on that. I think that helps explain my negative reaction to what happened later that night…but I’ve already covered that ground.

In any event, I was distracted by some part of her and just enjoying the access (even though it was through her pajamas) until she tapped me on the head with something hard. It was Pink, her favorite vibe.

“Do you want me to use that on you?” I asked hopefully.

“No,” she said, “You’re fine where you are.” She slide the vibe into her pajama bottoms and I heard its low thrum as she clicked it on.

“Do you want me to do…anything?”

“Nope. I’m good.” I could feel the vibrations radiate through her and into the mattress.

When she was done, she reassured me that the solo action wasn’t the result of anything I had done wrong. She wasn’t punishing me. It was just how she wanted it.

“You know if you could, you’d do the same thing yourself. Sometimes, that’s what I want, too,” she explained.

What I find remarkable about this is the old Belle Fille (the one married to the old Thumper – the ones who hardly ever had sex) would have never masturbated in front of me, let alone do so with no expectation that I’d have any role or reciprocal attention. It was what she wanted, pure and simple. I was not necessary and, due to her growing sexual confidence, felt no guilt with regard to my frustration whatsoever.

I think that’s beautiful.

3 thoughts on “Twice on Sunday

  1. Sine we picked on you the other day, I’m going to point out a couple of things that were very good.

    When she was done, she reassured me that the solo action wasn’t the result of anything I had done wrong. She wasn’t punishing me. It was just how she wanted it.

    This is particularly noteworthy, and you’ve served up a good example for the rest of us, especially the newbs. Sometimes not being part of the action can seem like neglect or being punished, but that’s only your own view — your partner might have some completely different take on it. Good for Belle for mentioning it.

    “Hmm. That’s confusing to me,” she said, “We need to call it something else. You can’t make love to me when you’re locked-up.”

    I realize that this is semantics, and Mrs. Edge and I completely disagree with the thinking, but Belle underlines that *she* thinks of them differently, and that it’s important to have a way of communicating what she wants. Indeed, that’s why Mrs. Edge and I denote which cock I’ll be using, mine or hers (actually, the other one is mine, too, ‘cos I paid for it, but, well, never mind); you want to be able to communicate your expectations clearly and at the beginning.

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