The other day, I went to my trainer session just as Belle was finishing hers. Our schedule is such that I’m always after her now. I helped scrape her off the floor and was being affectionate and stuff (I sometimes really like how the sweaty, post-workout Belle smells and tastes) and our trainer made some comment about “the secret” to our marriage. I have to tell you, I was seconds away from offhandedly telling him it probably had something to do with me only having one orgasm a year. But I didn’t.
This is a guy who’s juggling a couple of hotties at the same time and milking Tinder for all it’s worth (pun intended). He’s young(ish) and single and fucking all the time so I’m pretty sure the concept of withholding orgasm would make his head combust. And, I guess, rightly so. We backed into orgasm denial and chastity years after we got married, but it seems to me that its a strategy best applied to those in relationships. How would you even do it with random hook-ups? “Oh, that’s OK. I’m good…” Uh, probably not.
I’m not even sure anymore that limiting and controlling male orgasm outside of chastity should even be considered a kink. I mean, for some people it is (when it’s part of a D/s dynamic or whatever) and clearly this kind of conversation is massively complicated by the tangled up yarn ball that is human sexuality, but even those people in vanilla monogamous (or -ish) male-female relationships would, I think, see benefits from keeping him from orgasming as often as he’d like. I’ve finally stopped reading that Cupid’s Poison Arrow book because I couldn’t take it anymore, but there is a kernel of truth buried in their pile of repetitive anecdote. Hacking brain chemistry by limiting (or even eliminating) orgasm in at least one partner can greatly benefit a marriage (or married-like arrangement). Especially for those people sneaking up on middle-age where refractory periods get longer and longer.
Over on the Twitter, Kitten asked…
I said I thought my orgasm was a fair trade for how it benefits our marriage. Even if it meant I’d never have it again. If I could take a pill or pay a genie or something to take away my ability to come (but not my desire to) in exchange for feeling like I do when I’m riding high on the denial magic carpet, I’d do it. In a minute (assuming Belle was OK with it). Kitten suggested that would leave me feeling “bereft” but I think quite the opposite. I’m thrilled we’ve found this and can use it to enhance our relationship.
And I know, a lot of people would read that and think I’m crazy. Orgasm is wired deeply into our brains. We get lots of happy brain treats when we do it. But, as the authors of that dumb Cupid book point out, there’s also a downside to those same treats. On that point, I think they’re entirely right. Post-orgasmic brain chemistry does, over time, seem to work against long-term monogamous relationships. I can’t prove that to any of you. I don’t have a peer-reviewed study to point to (though I’d happily participate in one). All you can do it take my word for it, I guess.
In response to my last post, Mykey suggested my funk wasn’t a result of my last orgasm…
Seems unlikely it’s the orgasm from that long ago to me. I wonder if it’s just a cycle, hormones or emotions. Maybe you are coming down with a cold.
I agree, it does seem unlikely, but I’ve discovered that the actual impact from one orgasm does last for multiple weeks. Most men wouldn’t know because, like I used to, they’re probably having two to half a dozen or so orgasms a week (more if you’re a young man — I can recall jacking off twice a day in my mid- to late-teens). If you’re never outside an orgasm’s overhang, you can’t know the extent of it. If I were in a situation where my orgasms weren’t being controlled, I’d probably have pulled one out specifically to feel the hit of happy brain treats way before getting to the point where I was even a week out from last coming.
On that front, I’m starting to feel that old tyme denial religion. Belle wouldn’t let me out for sex this weekend even though we fooled around twice. Saturday morning was a nice and simple fingering while Sunday was a lovely and lively full-on pussy eating. After coming up for air, I was drenched. I rubbed it all down my chest and just let her pheromones linger on me even as I went to the gym for a run. It was quite the run, though I can’t say for certain the two things were related.
In any event, I desperately wanted to fuck her after I ate her out. To slip into that hot wetness. But it wasn’t happening. Later in the day, I asked if I could be let out due to a small spot of testicular irritation that had been lingering for several days. Sometimes it happens in places where the skin on the scrotum is constantly pulled somewhat tight (especially during erection attempts) and they can never heal. She was very suspicious of my motivations, but I swear I’d never lie to be let out. Twelve hours later, I was right as rain again. That’s all it took.
She let me out Sunday afternoon and I went back in this morning. I could have gone back in last night but she gave me one more day of recovery. I went to the gym unlocked and she was gone when I got back so the the notion of not going back in until tonight was crowding around in my imagination (especially while working on the Portfolio this morning), but I was good and obeyed her wishes and locked myself into the Looker 02. And, even when Tumbling, I didn’t play with anything. Not even in the shower. I was that good.
Which, I think, means things are getting back to normal. I’ll be leaving Friday morning for SXSW. We haven’t discussed whether or not she’ll want me locked up while gone. Last year, she let me use my own judgement and I eventually went back in on my own because the distraction of having a free penis I couldn’t play with was just too great. I assume this year I won’t have the choice, but we’ll see.
Any of you going to be in Austin this weekend? Let me know. Maybe we could meet up.