I woke up this morning like I wake up nearly every morning; penis locked and straining against its chastity device. By the time I left the bed, I was still locked up, but in between Belle let me out for some fun.
By the time we got to the part of the event where we were both naked and it was time for her to decide which of many ways available she’d like to be brought to orgasm, I was over her and grinding the newly freed and achingly hard penis into her pelvic region. Last time, she let me fuck her from above until she came and damn if I didn’t want to do it again. But, with me inches from slipping inside her and hopefully repeating my previous performance, she chose Blue.
And…wow, but I was truly hurt. She had me right there but didn’t want me. She wanted…it. Him. The big blue cock. There was a real pang of regret. Of wishing Blue wasn’t an option. I wasn’t mad or resentful about it. I don’t blame her for choosing it at all. I’d rather get fucked by it than me, too. But I didn’t enthusiastically leap for the toy drawer.
Before I could get to it, enthusiastically or not, she rolled me over onto my back and took the penis into her mouth. I don’t get this treat very often. I practically melted into the sheets, it felt so good. So warm and tender. After she finished, I kissed her and tasted penis on her lips. If my erection had flagged slightly upon hearing it was being passed over in favor of the big blueness, this little episode brought it right back.
“I’m going to pretend you’re my boyfriend while fucking you,” she mentioned.
A conflicting swirl of emotions on hearing that. My little cuckold wannabe thrilled to hear it but the part of me that a brief period before wanted to be instrument of her pleasure was left further annoyed.
Once Belle mounted Blue, she really went to town with it. We just got a new bed and, unlike the old creaky one it replaced, it’s totally solid, silent, and immobile even while hosting passionate motion. Eighty-eight was apparently very nice for her.
Usually, I’d wait for her to tell me I could fuck her after she comes like that, but after she rolled off of me I wasted no time ridding myself of Blue and rolling over onto her. I didn’t go so far as to enter without permission, but I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed the penis against her warm wetness. She reached down and put it in.
Normally when I fuck Belle, I can feel the outer lips of her wonderful pussy catch and slide past the head of the penis as it slips past. After she fucks Blue or Maverick, it’s more of a slickly frictionless motion. It feels like I barely touch her going in. Her comments from the other day — I can barely feel you…it’s like the penis isn’t even there — rang in my head and the heady, heavy thud of whatever the fuck it is that gets me off feeling her all stretched out by a bigger dick landed right in my gut. My silent little fit of pique collapsed under the weight of it.
You are second, I thought. Always and in all ways.
And like that, whatever regret or disappointment or embarrassment that lingered over her choice changed polarity; instead of feeling negative and put-out over it, I felt the insistent hyperactive bounce of subby denial. I still felt the regret and embarrassment but was powered by them rather than diminished.
There was one point when I was fucking her freely and had my arms all wrapped around hers, enveloping her head and shoulders, while I was kissing her face and tasting her mouth and smelling her hair and, of course, resisting the pressing need to plant my seed inside her when I was so fully and completely in love with her. It wasn’t a feeling or an opinion. It was an existential reality.
I so badly needed that. We had no sex of any kind last week and the batteries that keep me going, already depleted by the orgasm she let me have two weeks ago, were feeling empty. I was feeling separate from her in a way I don’t like. Disconnected from her. I’m not saying things are back to normal even now, but that moment of clarity I found while plowing away at her loosely wet and stretched-out pussy was exactly the shot I needed.
Once she told me I was done fucking her, I disengaged slowly and with great effort. I wanted to stay in there. Forever. As I lingered, she pushed hard against my chest and made me roll off of her. The thought that I could get back in there if I really wanted to flitted through my head, but quickly passed. After a moment of grabbing at my balls and squeezing them out of frustration, I reached over and started to reassemble the Steelheart. She didn’t tell me to get back in but I knew she’d want me in before the day was out and it seemed to me that being locked up immediately would be best for me. I gave Belle the lock and she turned the key.
“Good job, Thumper.”