Then I found myself completely alone for hours. Kid one is at prom(!), kid two is at a movie with a friend, Belle’s in China. And here I am, by myself without even man’s best friend to keep me company. No, not the dog. He’s here. I was talking about the penis.
So I thought it might be time for some good old-fashioned
ass-pounding prostate milking. Alas, no real men have raised their hands for the job so I’m left to my own devices. The devices in question being the growing assortment of dildos and plugs at my disposal. (Not Belle’s, of course. Those are for her.)
I’ll spare you the details and say only that it was a good night. I was able to go to town on a dildo I’ve had for many years and had acquired as the result of my eyes being bigger than my anus. The beast is 10″ long and has a circumference of 7 1/4″. And I rode that fucker long and hard. All because I had time and was patient, used plenty of lube, and worked my way up with smaller dongs first. Note, some of those ten inches were wasted as there’s just not that much room inside me, but I bet I got more than seven inches of it.
The milking was successful. I produced prodigious quantity of clear, sticky precum which dripped and hung off the Jail Bird in long ropes that swung around with the rhythm of the action that was forcing them out. I also made a smaller quantity of milky ejaculate (without the ejaculation, of course).
The main reason I mention this is because near the end of the evening’s activities when I was astride that giant dong in a position not unlike a reverse cowgirl and the satisfaction of the sensation was humming through my entire body and my prostate was zinging with electricity, I had this feeling that everything would be so much better if I could stroke myself as I was fucked. And, way in the back of my brain from a dark little corner, I heard a tiny voice.
You can back out of the Jail Bird.
And I was like, You know, I could.
And this is what happens to a guy. When you juice him up real good and either tease him to pudding or fuck him until he’s a quivering jellyfish, he is no longer thinking with his brain. Like you need me to tell you that. I defy any guy who hasn’t come in three months to basically have sex with himself for ninety minutes and not almost lose his shit like I did.
After I had had my fill of King Dong, my calmer head prevailed. I knew what I had to do — bring out the big gun. I retrieved the Steelheart. But even that caused conflict because part of me said I should make sure I get nice and clean in my post-workout shower by taking the Jail Bird off and not putting the Steelheart on until I was done. Because, you know, nothing untoward has ever happened in a soapy hot shower. And I really should be as cleans as possible. Belle would want that, right?
I ended up putting the Steelheart on before the shower. After, I went looking for a solution to the free key issue. I needed to get that thing out of my reach. The key safe will only fit one key at a time so I resorted to using a little envelope and taping it closed with the date from today’s paper firmly affixed. Then I stuck it under Belle’s statue.
I’m not saying I would have pulled out at some point or used the key to take the device off and leave it that way long enough to get in trouble. In fact, I was good and didn’t do what I’m expressly forbidden from doing and was able to control myself. But placing the key out of reach gives me piece of mind to go along with the piece of ass I had earlier. And I need that right now.