Not that it matters

I had kind of a crappy day yesterday at work. Lots of negative energy and stress and, by the time I got home, I wanted to connect to Belle physically, but wasn’t exactly horny. It was one of those times where, had I still been able to, I would have gone and jerked off to relieve the stress. In any event, I told her I really wanted to do stuff that night and I think she understood it wasn’t the usual whiny horny Thumper speaking but her mate who needed some special attention.

“Special attention”, of course, takes on a whole new definition when one’s manparts are locked under stainless steel. As we were waiting for the offspring to fall asleep, we watched Stephen Fry in America and I showed her how the lock works on the Steelheart. After an appropriate amount of time, she told me to turn off the light and strip. When I started to strip while the light was still on, she chided me for not following directions.

Once I got the order figured out and asked permission to enter her bed, I assumed my preferred position – head down, ass in the air, face burrowing into her. With my legs spread, I felt the unfamiliar heft of the new device suspended between my legs. She ran her hands over my back and I moved up to get closer. She was on her back, I was on all fours above, kissing her and letting the device rub back and forth over her thigh.

“It’s so smooth,” she said. I think Belle really likes it. She’s the one who said it looked so natural the first time she saw it. I suppose she’s right. It does hang and curve like a real cock, albeit a big fat one made of warm steel.

I asked for and was allowed to touch her all over. Not being allowed to touch her breasts or between her legs makes those moments when I can all the more special. Soon, I was lapping and sucking on her nipples and feeling the new sensation of a curved, yet restrained erection in the steel tube. I held off on going anywhere else other than her breasts since I wanted to extend as much as possible the salutatory effects feeling her writhe to my touch was having on my grumpiness. Eventually, I got into a position where my mouth was on one nipple, my hand on the other, and the elbow of that arm pressed gently into her mons. She started to grind against it and moan. As she got hotter, I got hotter and the pressure in the tube got higher.

What I really wanted was to go down on her. As soon as I had her pajama bottoms off, I shifted my position first by crossing over to her other nipple and then pivoting down so I could plant my face on her snatch. I had to move quickly since she was very close to coming through nothing more than grinding against me so my time between her legs was all too brief. As she came, she squeezed my head hard with her thighs – so hard it hurt.

Afterward, I was pretty worked up. I spooned against her, hard tube nestled between her ass cheeks, and tried to allow sleep to overtake me.

“You can’t even tell when I’m hard,” I said, suggesting that the hard tube never changed regardless of what was going on inside it.

“No,” she replied, “Not that it matters.”


It took a while before sleep caught up with me.

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