Handjob

I think I’m going to come this weekend. Belle’s been dropping hints. I think, after the month and half (or whatever it’s been), that she wants her cock inside her.

On the one hand, I could describe the usual angst that goes along with coming, etc., but on the other hand I’m really fucking horny. Really. No, I’m serious. Really. I was looking forward to the challenge of staying in and orgasmless until October, but yeah, coming would be nice too.

Thing is, I don’t want to come just a little. I want to come and come and come. I want to spew for days. And, of course, because I’m the charmingly complicated fellow that I am, I also don’t want to come. Not at all. Like, ever. Complicated.

The other day, she offered me a session with the njoy Pure if I accomplished a small list of chores over the course of the day. What I really wanted, though (and what I’ve wanted for weeks) was to feel the cock, nice and hard, getting stroked. Besides, she wouldn’t want to be there when I fucked myself with it and I really wanted to connect with her. I wanted to be with her, no matter what happened. The Pure is a solo activity with Belle. So, after finishing my tasks, I asked if I could exchange the Pure time with a 15 minute edging session. She agreed.

That night, she unlocked me and I placed the various metal bits that came off onto my bedstand. She started to play with the cock. It seemed a little dazed in that it took a while for it to start to plump up. Like it was being duped or something. Like it didn’t trust what was happening. But it eventually came around and she started a nice rhythmic pumping on the rapidly inflating meat that caused me to arch back and close my eyes. It was fantastic. Stroke stroke stroke stroke stroke. It was so fucking nice.

Then she let go. I panted. I wasn’t really ready to come, but I was getting into the groove pretty well. After a few minutes, she started again with the pumping. Same story as last time, except I could feel the disused ejaculation mechanism warming up just before she let go again leaving the meat hot and bobbing. My left hand grasped and ungrasped wanting so badly to wrap around the hard cock that was so close, but she hadn’t said I could and I sensed I wasn’t allowed.

She started in again and I felt myself fall into the sensation of her handjob, the thin, sensitive skin sliding under her hand, over the flare of the cock head, back down the shaft. I closed my eyes again and felt nothing but the strokes: up down up down up down, again and again. Nothing else existed except that hand job. And just as I was slipping away – just as I felt the orgasm that had been waiting six or more weeks to come into being start to build – she let go. I groaned. Sweet Jesus, I wanted that back. More than air.

“Can I do it? Can I stroke it?” I pleaded as calmly as possible.

“Do you think you deserve it?” she asked, “Did you do a good enough job to have earned that?”

I thought about it. Fuck it, I thought. Say yes! Just say yes, yes you did and get to it!

“No,” I said quietly. Meekly.

“I don’t either,” she replied as she placed the baggy fully of icy water onto the still-hard cock.

It was so cold, that water. It hurt. The blood in the engorged flesh fought back, but I could feel it deflating just a bit with each thump of my heart. We had previously agreed that I’d go back in the device when the session was over, so once I felt the cock wither sufficiently to allow me to put it on, I reached for the metal.

“You can stay out for the night.”

ARGH! The cock was now cold and small. Useless. And she was rolling over to go to sleep.

“I might jack off in my sleep, you know.” It’s true. I’ve woken up doing that more than once.

“Try not to,” she said back to me, shortly.

So anyway, yeah, now I think she’s going to really fuck me. This weekend, I bet. Maybe I’ll come, maybe I won’t. Maybe she’s just fucking with my head. I don’t think so, though. At least, I don’t think I don’t think so.

Like I said. Complicated.

6 thoughts on “Handjob

  1. At last…. I get whats not made sense about this kink. I simply don’t share that need to not come now or (gasp) forever.

    The part about wanting to come and come and come? THAT I get. I share the wanting to share being intimate rather then be handed the vibe or wanking off quietly by myself.

    For me I would seek “uncomplicated” and suggest a bolt cutter and carrying the Mrs (SO) to the nearest flat spot for some serious 1:1!

    Hire a part time maid for the house cleaning? 😉

    1. I can’t say I understand it either, but that’s how it is.

      Regardless, the most eyeopening and world view shattering thing I’ve learned over the past (almost) two years is that this concept that the male orgasm is the end all, be all to sexual fulfillment is bunk. Living without has been, I’ve found, to be a much more vibrant and rewarding experience.

      Don’t knock it until you try it!

  2. I agree with you,Thumper, “The chase is more fun than the capture”.
    My problem always seems the 1st week after the experience,
    I hate it more than anything, and want to do it over and over, again.The 1st day is “Hell” and their is no way my wife would ever let me out for at least a week.
    Our edging session is always the same,locking collar before
    removal of “CB”,4 cuffs,and returning to “CB” right after session, no possible chance for relief.
    enjoy

  3. Looks like you’re going to have a nice weekend. Either you’ll get to come, which is great – or you’ll not get to come. That should be even greater, as it’d push all your buttons (masochism, bondage and sexual submissiveness).
    Can’t wait to read about the outcome (if anything gets to come out or not).

  4. Lately in your posts, there’s been this undercurrent of tension which has been shared out amongst the audience – charges of ‘topping from the bottom’, confusion about terms, sexuality, etc. Not all of it has been tension coming from you; there’s been little disagreements from various posters about this that and the other, etc.

    This post however, while it has its own tension, at least allows you to see where it’s coming from. Sheer sexual frustration, and the inner conflict of wanting release and not wanting it.

    But if you consider how this post fits in with the blog (and your life) as a whole, I think this is really as close to ‘Thumper Nirvana’ as it gets. Sure, you’re frustrated, but when you’re thinking with a clearer head, this is everything you’ve wanted – your sexual warp core close to breeching, Belle effortlessly in charge, without question, and no doubt enjoying it, the sheer power of it almost making my monitor glow a little brighter.

    When you’re frustrated for different reasons, such as post-orgasmic letdown, not feeling sexual, worried about how Belle fits in with your inner mental dramas, etc, experiences like the one outlined in this post are like powerful beacons in the night, allowing you to find your way.

    See beyond the moment, and what looks complicated is actually… blissful.

    1. Lately in your posts, there’s been this undercurrent of tension which has been shared out amongst the audience – charges of ‘topping from the bottom’, confusion about terms, sexuality, etc. Not all of it has been tension coming from you; there’s been little disagreements from various posters about this that and the other, etc.

      Yeah, and what’s weird is there’s been ZERO tension in my relationship. It’s all come from here (which is a first). It obviously affected me, but everything between Belle and I was fine.

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