Belle’s home now. She arrived Thursday afternoon following a day of air travel and promptly got her period. One of the interesting side-effects of chastity is that it makes me strangely attuned to her monthly cycle. There have been times when I think I’m more aware of it than she is, but I was thrown off this time because she was gone a week. Surprise!
My oddly sexless feelings continued even after she was home, though I felt a lot of comfort being in bed with her again. But then, yesterday as the boy and I were heading out to see what trouble Harry Potter had gotten himself into this time, I kissed her goodbye and POW something snapped. The feeling of her lips on mine, the taste of her, my hands on her breasts. Tube was full, blood was pumping. I wanted to eat her right up there, standing at the end of the bed.
So last night, I was whimpering freely. All of a sudden, a fairly strong sense of sexual frustration had settled in and I wanted OUT and I wanted to FUCK. She was having none of that and made fun of me since I had only been locked up for a few weeks. Then, she started making comments about how my chastity was not unlike an experiment where the male of the species was being taught to fight millions of years of evolution and become more attuned to the needs of the female rather than his own. How long, she mused, would men need to be locked up before they started to evolve in that direction? Ten thousand years? Fifteen? Should I keep you locked up for 15,000 years, she asked. I whimpered.
Regardless of my whimpering state and the steel wrapped around my struggling erection and her period, she said she would allow me to pleasure her to orgasm. I expected this to be fairly perfunctory and not unlike the dozens of other just-before-bed type orgasms I’ve given her, but after a few minutes of nipple sucking and clit fingering, she rolled over on top of me and started to rub herself against the tube. I now sucked both her nipples as I started to feel her heat radiate through the thick steel. No sensation at all for me other than pressure and heat.
“God, I wish we knew where Pink was,” she said while angling the tube up so she could fuck it. We still don’t know where her favorite toy is.
“I don’t know where she is…but I’ve got a cock you could use,” I helpfully reminded her. It seemed obvious to me she hadn’t come at all on her trip. She was acting like a cat in heat trying to rub up against anything that would get her off (but, you know, in the best possible way you can describe someone like that).
“Where’s Mr. Darcy?” she asked. I thought for a moment that maybe she misunderstood my “I’ve got a cock you can use” statement. Of course, I meant the real cock. The one on me. But she knew that…right?
“He’s right here in my nightstand.”
“Get him.” She rolled off. I got him.
There wasn’t much I could do with him other than rug his head over her clit because, you know, she was on her period and the rest of her was occupied by a female hygiene product. Clearly, though, my Belle wanted to get fucked since she told me to go get her some kleenex from the bathroom. She removed the offending female hygiene product and I got to busy with Mr. Darcy.
As I was laying there, my legs wrapped around her leg, solid tube pressing against her thigh as I fucked her with a silicone dick, I was able to reflect where we are and how far we’ve come. I know I’ve said this before in a number of ways, but this is for realsy now. Letting me out of the device so she could get what she so clearly wanted was simply never an option. The cock on me was not on her radar and my status as the frustrated lesser half of her sexual pleasure was secure. A year ago, I would have gotten the real cock wet and probably would have been able to come with no real consequences. Now, I have no clue how long I’ll be locked up and even less as to when I’ll come again.
I fucked her with Darcy for a bit and then pushed him home and used my fingers on her clit while she bucked and ground her hips around him. Her orgasm, which we had worked so hard to achieve, built over a relatively long period of time and seemed to hit her very hard. I could feel her clamping down on Darcy, the luck bastard.
As her passion ebbed, I could feel the last vestigial chance that I’d get any Thumper-centric action evaporate. Sometimes, the realization that I’ll be left high and horny burns with anguished intensity as it wraps around my brain like a blanket. She got out of bed to attend to herself and I pulled on the hard tube, futily. My period of feeling nothing was apparently over.