Lost in the sheets

I was away from Belle over the weekend. Thursday through Monday nights. I was having a nice time, but it was miserable not to be with her. Especially in the morning when the penis was pushing against the Trainer as hard as it can and my hand only found unfeeling plastic and not a hard shaft to play with.

I wish I knew more about the brain chemistry of love and attraction or that someone would do a study on the brain of a denied male. My feelings for her are made so much more intense by the lack of orgasm. My craving for her and her warm softness so much more acute by the locking of the penis. When I got home, I was all over her and her scent and lips and curvy female form made my heart flutter.

“I have to hear you orgasm,” I whispered into her ear.

Later that night, I snuggled up next to her under the covers as we watched Sherlock and as I ran my hands down her body they found the tubular shape of Pink, her favorite vibrator. My assumption was she put it there for me to use on her once Holmes and Watson saved London from terrorists, but no.

“Is that still there?!”

Turns out she had made the bed over it the morning before. While I was clawing at a compressed needy hard-on through its plastic trap, she was pleasuring herself with the little pink vibe. I instantly saw her in my mind doing this and could hear the thrumming rise and fall as she pushed it in and pull it out of her hot snatch.

And of course, I moaned. And melted inside.

I suggested christening her new dildo but she wanted my fingers and now we’re down to ninety-six. Even though I was horned up nearly to distraction, feeling her body tense with the wave of orgasm and then go limp in the afterglow triggered in me the need to sleep. So I did.

There’s a bit more to this one, but it comes with the standard NSFW warnings, so…

What I got versus what she wantsYesterday, I tried out the Maverick in the strap-on harness we already have to make sure it fits. Didn’t want to find out at the moment of truth that it was too fat for the O-ring. It just works (with some coaxing) and, since I was all dolled up, I decided to share the look with the perverts on Tumblr and captioned it, “What I got versus what she wants.” Because that’s the truth.

I suspect that’s what led to the following question asked by an anonymous follower:

Do you never get sick of it all? Being restrained and her getting all the pleasure? You don’t ever want to scream and say no? To not feel humiliated? To just know that you’re enough?

I replied on Tumblr, but want to add a bit more here. Obviously, the person who asked that has never read this blog. Ever get sick of it? Absolutely not! I feel like our dynamic is the natural one for me and my only regret is we didn’t start living like this years ago. So many wasted orgasms into the bathroom sink. So many times seeking my pleasure by my own hand. So many years not being truly connected to my best friend and partner.

And, of course, her pleasure is my pleasure. Her pleasure is, to me, so much more important than my own. It’s an actual source of pleasure for me hearing and seeing her enjoying whatever it is she wants. Sure, I do occasionally feel like screaming, but not in anguish. And I rarely if ever feel like saying no.

Regarding humiliation, yes, it is humiliating to know she enjoys cocks so much fatter and longer than mine. Luckily, I’m wired to get off on that. The hot flush of embarrassment that reddens my cheeks and quickens my pulse when I admit that she truly loves something so much bigger than me also works to make the penis stiffen and strain against whatever device she has me in at the moment. If anything, I crave to hear more that the penis is smaller than she prefers. I know that to a muggle unfamiliar with our ways, that sounds totally fucking crazy. It is rich and deep and complicated. And it’s how I’m wired.

At least I’m not the kind of guy who measures his self-worth using a ruler the same length as his dick. That’s the only way I’d ever think I wasn’t “enough” for her. I know she loves me completely as I am and for who I am. And I love her back hard because of it.

I don’t ever want it any other way.

3 thoughts on “Lost in the sheets

  1. I cracked up at “to a muggle unfamiliar with our ways.” Perfect.

    Once again, I really admire the way you express your feelings. When you talk about how being denied orgasm makes you feel closer to her, and connected to your best friend, I can really feel it. Kudos to you on that.

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