Addendum to previous post

Forgot to mention one other things Belle said last night. She was reading about the Holy Trainer v2 coming in and deciding whether or not she’d let me wear it (I really need to remember the order of operations on this stuff). Yes, she will, but she said the only way I’d ever see Drew was locked in the Steelheart. The Steelheart is, more than any other, her device. It’s her favorite. The one she’d leave me in all the time if she didn’t indulge me with some variety from time to time. I’ll never see him in the Looker or the Trainer or anything else. Just the Steelheart because it’s the most powerful symbol of who owns what’s inside.

Plus, you know, you can’t see the penis inside it. Drew doesn’t get to see that (in real life — I’ve left enough pictures of it all over the internet). The penis is 100% Belle’s and she will not share it, ever. Also, the Steelheart is the only truly and totally secure device she has. Not that she doesn’t trust me, but it’s not only the most powerful symbol of her control, it’s also the most literally controlling.

And…that’s fucking hot. All the way around. I love that she feel so possessive of it and me and that helps me appreciate what a great gift she’s given me in allowing me to see Drew.

And speaking of him, he feels terrible about he excessively possessive thing I mentioned. He suggested going back and editing that post, but I told him that was a bad idea. It’s already out there and, in my opinion, blogs like these only move forward. I’ve never gone back and substantively edited a post here. All my mistakes and foolishness from the early days are still there and, when I look back, I find plenty to be embarrassed about. Instead, I told him he should write a new post about it and move on.

Time and relative dimension in space

We have moved from the giddy, nervous newness stage of allowing a third party a place at my table and into the practical reality of how it’s going to function so that everyone involved, but especially Belle, feels comfortable. It all has to settle into a stable routine.

Each person in this little triangle has their own perspective and vulnerabilities. I feel it’s my responsibility to look out for both mine and Belle’s since I’m the one who wants this and she’s the one who has allowed it to happen. That’s not to say I don’t think of Drew in all this as well, but the priority is Belle, first and always. The thing I have been struggling with is that I’ve found myself putting me last in line. I suppose this is a submissive’s trap, but I’ve realized that if I don’t take care of myself then I’ll probably fuck up my first priority (keeping Belle as comfortable as possible with the arrangement).

For me, it all culminated on Sunday. I have some things I need to do for myself and a community of friends that I’ve been putting off since essentially the day Drew showed up and started distracting me. The day ended with me doing things for him and doing things for Belle and not having completed her list of tasks and totally ignoring my own needs and, on top of everything else, I fucked up my Achilles tendon and probably won’t run again until the end of December so my mood was shit. But I didn’t want to show any of that to either of them. I was feeling pretty crap and like I was holding on by my fingernails. Pressured.

Of course, none of this is Belle’s problem. She’s not expected to make room for Drew and how that changes me. I have to make the room. So this had to be an issue taken up with him. We talked yesterday and set some good ground rules going forward. Rules about when we communicate and how and what his expectations are with regard to my submission. We also discussed how I can easily share my sex and even my submission (to the right person) but I can’t share my heart. Not with him. There’s nothing wrong with him except that I’m not capable of feeling a certain way towards a man and I needed him to really and truly get that (which he did and does).

So on Sunday, late in the day, I was laying on the couch with my head in Belle’s lap while she watched football (three games). She was stroking my hair and mentioned she didn’t think she could let the Drew thing happen if he was local. She’d feel too possessive of me.

“You have the local franchise,” I said.

“I have the only franchise,” she corrected in a sweet yet totally serious and I better be paying attention tone. “He’s just renting.”

Then, last night, she told me she read his initial post over on his new blog. She said she wouldn’t be going back there, at least not for a while. She felt his tone was too possessive of me and I totally get that. I felt the same thing when I read it, but I know him and know that he came off sounding more entitled than he knows he is. But she doesn’t know that and she didn’t respond well. She’s still giving me the freedom to explore a relationship with Drew, but made it clear that there are landmines we need to be aware of.

This is, of course, exactly what I want us to do. Communicate. Be honest. I don’t think there’s a snowball’s chance this will work if we’re not. Part of being honest is establishing space. The space she needs apart from what Drew writes, the space she needs in our relationship that is exclusively ours and inviolate. The space I need from Drew to do that. The space I need to make sure I don’t get consumed by the task subbing to two people so it’s impossible to accomplish.

Moral of this post: We’re being cautious, sensible adults as we move through uncharted territory. And that’s good.

Holy Trainer v2 inbound

So since Andy’s review of the Holy Trainer 2 I mentioned the other day, the device has been on my mind. There were some loose ends from my original Holy Trainer review and I’ve always wanted to address them. Not only the new design, but the “biosourced resin” material and, specifically, the clear version which seems to get more reports of cracking and failure than the opaque models. Then, Belle and I scheduled a trip to NYC for next month in which I requested she keep me in the Trainer. So it was on my mind even more.

So, yes, I ordered the v2 Trainer this morning. The final straw was noticing that when one Google’s “Holy Trainer” my review is the first site listed that isn’t one of the holytrainer.com pages. It’s the same if you Google “Holy Trainer 2.” If you ask Google for “Holy Trainer review” or “Holy Trainer 2 review,” I get top billing. Well, friends, that was it. I couldn’t stand the thought that people might be coming here looking for a review of the HT v2 and finding a review of the old model. Also, since the clear resin might be a fatal flaw, I felt compelled to pick it up.

I started ordering from the HT site but thought $20 for shipping was excessive and checked out Kept for Her. The device is available there and ships via Priority Mail for $8. Total damage was $178 which was about five bucks cheaper than going direct (and, I expect, will result in faster deliver since KFH is domestic and HT is in Europe).

Back when I found out the HT v2 existed, I asked the manufacturer if they’d supply a review unit. They declined, as I recall, saying they had already sent out all the review units they were going to give away (since it’s highly doubtful they want any of them back). So here I am several months later shelling out my own allowance, but at least that means you know I have no skin in the game. No conflict of interest. In fact, if it breaks, I’ll be pissed. Also, dear reader, know that I bought the clear one especially for you. I prefer the look of the black device and so does Belle, as a general rule.

My plan will be to ask Belle if I can wear the device for at least a month. I want to evaluate how the changes in the design impact its performance and I want to give the clear resin a real test. I’ll likely post a new review based on a few days of wear but will be adding to it over time with notes on durability. KFH sent a shipment notification less than two hours after I ordered which says two things. One, I hope to be able it get it on soon. Two, KFH is on their game.

So, stay tuned.

Finally, I figured out my Google rankings might help determine which of the two best-known plastic chastity devices is the better seller if, as I do, you assume Google searches are an indicator of purchase intent. My CB-6000 tips and tricks page is also the top link if you Google for a CB6K review, so comparing the two pages’ traffic should be interesting directional information.

For the year so far, the Holy Trainer review averages 2,178 views a month. It’s usually in the top five pages every day. The CB-6000 review page gets  5,042 and is usually number two or three on the days I don’t post a new entry. Traffic for both is pretty flat and has shown little increase or decrease, on average, over the year. So, one might assume the CB6K remains the clear winner in the plastic cock lock wars. Pity, really, since I think the HT is a better device all the way around.

That moment

Laying next to her, soaking in her smell and her smooth softness. Kissing her face and her chin and her nose. Feeling the fat, sticky member pressed between us — still wet from being inside her. My arms wrapped strongly around her, binding her to me. Legs still sweaty and intertwined. The throbbing desire to be buried within her, to still feel the hard meat moving in her soft, hot wetness. To still be connected to her power. All that beating and crashing inside my chest but being held in check by her calm, cool control.

And then she turns her face away just a little. And at that moment, I know. She’s through. She’s moved on. She’s done with me.

But I will always be right there, waiting for her to return.

I’m too annoyed to even come up with a title

The recent series of posts has elicited some less than inspiring comments. At the prospect of Drew…

I just want to say that I am less than excited about your romps with another man than I am about your interaction with your wife.

After hearing that I had been with him…

Well hopefully for her sake you used protection or will be tested for hiv.

And after I posted his POV of our first encounter…

Is this going to become a gay blog now?

The overwhelming majority of comments have been positive and supportive and, for that, I am grateful. Thing is, since this is a blog about kinky sex and other perverted diversions, I would have only expected comments that suggested my readers were open-minded when it comes to sex of all kinds. Apparently not.

With regard to what kind of blog this is, it will remain what it has always been: A journal of the sex and relationships I am part of. I don’t make this shit up. It’s not a “choose your own adventure” novel. And, to be honest, it’s not like my interest in having sex with another man is something I’ve never mentioned before. It’s interesting to me that all of my several posts about me playing with my own ass were passed over without criticism but when another human of my own gender does it, the peanut gallery starts chirping (and all I did was say it happened, I didn’t even talk about it in my typical level of gory detail).

And seriously, who the fuck thinks it’s OK to pipe up with their narrow-minded and frankly ignorant opinion on a blog about a real person doing real things in real life? Do you confuse me with a source of entertainment for you? Do you suppose for a single goddamned minute I give a shit if what I say offends or fails to give you a chubby?

I have spent too much of my life worrying about how others would judge me because of who I am and how I feel and what makes me happy. I still struggle with that today. If you find anything I discuss here (you know, the real and factual details of another human’s search for satisfaction and happiness) offensive, get the hell out. Just go the fuck away. Are you doing me a favor by reading my words? Do you think so much of yourself that you think your comments criticizing my relating what happens to me should, in any way, change how I live or what I write on my fucking blog? Get over yourself.

For the record, OF COURSE we had safe sex. I’m not a 16-year-old. For the record, I don’t give a shit if you don’t want to hear about me having sex with other men in between loving my wife. And finally, if you don’t approve of the direction my blog is going (which is also the direction my life is going, not incidentally), let Google be your friend and find yourself some other source of masturbatory inspiration.

Three comments is not a lot, I know. But I assume that they may represent the views of a chunk of people who come here on a regular basis to absorb the peeks I give into my private life. If that’s you, then I respectfully ask you never come back and delete your bookmark to my site. Life is too short for us to interact.

Drew’s view

I asked Drew if he would be interested in writing something up for you lovely voyeurs out there regarding his perspective of our first encounter. I assumed it would be a prurient account and not destined for these pages, but it turned out to be quite a bit more (and not especially prurient, actually). Since I think there are things in it that readers here are interested to know and there are other things both Drew and his husband want Belle to know, I decided to post it here.


Today was “The Day”.  The day indeed.  As Thumper has said, while I am technically a Sr. VP and Managing Director for an international company, that really just translates to the fact that I am (almost) a professional traveler and his description of my day yesterday trying to get to his city was, unfortunately, not abnormal. But the silver lining, the oh so beautiful silver lining, was that it led to, “Today – The Day”.  I won’t go into as many details as he will because, well, it’s his blog, but at some point today when I was looking at his sparkly metal enclosed genitals, we talked about me writing this guest post for the Portfolio from my point of view because, among other things, it might be nice to show the world there are more men out there than just Thumper and the vague “Drew”.  This is not a Denying Thumper post by intent because, that blog is about his intimate life with Belle; however, he knows he is free to share any and all of this with her as I also have the same freedom to do so with my spouse (and, now actually have). After reading some of the negative comments on DT from today’s post and even we he met me, there is a part of me that hopes he will pull out a few things from this writing or just post it all, despite my saying it was a private blog for he and Belle, because, from reading the comments, it seems that even some people following kink blogs just really do not “get it” about some same sex activity and, most likely, same sex married couples too.  Now I am far from naive enough to think one post will change those people,  but a Dom can dream, right? Also, my other thought is because I want, in writing, from me, to say to those who care about him that he’s in good hands that I will ALWAYS respect Belle first and, even more importantly, mention, in writing, from me, to the world, that my spouse thinks this is “just fucking great” – more later on that BUT, again, that blog is not about me and him, in most all ways.

First, a bit about me that you all just don’t know since I have really only been introduced to you as the traveling man with the real, live, HUGE penis – you don’t know me, I can pretend –  that Thumper was going to use to satisfy his inner cravings.  Well, Thumper’s craving parallels mine very closely, in just that opposite way, and what we found prior to exposing our genitals to each other is that, unlike most married men who meet for intimate intentions, we exposed our hearts and, maybe most importantly, our minds first, and THAT has created a friendship that I think we each needed, for various reasons, and one that will likely go on far beyond the realm of “fuck buddy” but also one that will stay inside some clearly defined lines and NEITHER of us have any worries about that.  Frankly, at least in my head, meeting and talking with him really made me realize that even though I have a wonderful, incredible, blessed life full of family, friends, and opportunity, I had an empty box somewhere deep in my mind where I sometimes lived in isolation with just me and my porn thinking that nobody else in the world would ever even knock on that door, much less enter it, and that I had actually come to peace with the fact because I did not ever want to risk losing the other 91.7 percent of the other parts of my world.  Finding him meant I, at least, got to put some furniture in that empty box because I realized others actually can come to visit, sit down, have a drink, and leave without trailing mud in and out on my clean carpet, so to speak.  THAT, my new friends, is an incredible, exciting feeling.  It’s really funny how life is, isn’t it?

Anyway, in addition to the sexual parallels, within that box, it’s been a bit like finding your best friend from first grade 40 years later (in any other context I would have said brother, but that’s creepy here) because, sexual urges and proclivities aside, we share a continual growing list of odd, random things, from each of our forty plus years that have intertwined in weird ways that somehow made us each suspect that my penis was going to just fit very nicely within his nether regions.  In addition, as you might can tell, we share a love for writing, words, and the intangible joy that comes from reading and writing that few understand which, to me, is incredibly sexy when speaking to and about deep, intense topics.

Like Thumper and Belle, my spouse and I have been together for 17 amazing years.  Also, like Thumper, I am the one who is controlled at home, although we are not as advanced as he and Belle, but that day is coming and I will likely wind up with a metal penis myself soon (once we figure out how to get around my travel and airport security, especially international).  You see, I was just a bit later than he was in admitting my kink side and my spouse is now becoming more open to the idea of control, especially controlling my, well, you know.  While Thumper’s submission admission was encouraged by the story you all know, mine took a back seat to my career as I climbed that ladder early and fast and finding peace with the discipline needing, bondage craving, plug loving, chastity craving side of me just took some time and I am finally embracing it.  Unlike Thumper, my spouse is a Man, I have never even touched a female’s genitals (he’s teaching me what I need to know about them though through pictures, stories and soon, I assume, some sort of police type doll so he can point to the places that he likes to touch), and, most importantly to this situation, I have a dominant side that is in a dead heat with my submissive side as to which one will win and, lately, that dominant side is off and running faster and faster and is coming incredibly easy for me to run with.

After confessing all of this to my husband about four or five years ago, we have talked, cried, laughed, gained horniness, lost horniness, and spent thousands of dollars on gear from websites and catalogs that we thought would make us the perfect D/s couple. Except, we found, BDSM gear does not the Master and slave make.  It only enhances it.  You still have to deal with the fundamentals – the two people involved.  In our case, he has no desire to be submissive and, while I craved being his sub, I still was left with a void for my dominant side.  I had wondered if that dominant need was a way that I was trying to hang on to my masculinity and that it would go away as soon as I found myself in a collar.  It did not. It will not.  Now that Thumper has list of things I control (that Belle has no interest in controlling), I am 100 percent absolutely fucking sure that the Dom side of me will never, ever go away, and that is pretty cool.

Because of this side, my husband has told me for years that I had his permission to find a boy, a sub, or even, perhaps a slave (I’d be unlocked for visits if we ever get to that stage).  His feeling was this would enhance our relationship versus hurting it and, while I looked, I can’t say I ever really 100% believed he would or could be so wonderful about it.  This was a two way street though, because I also had to give him the same permission to find whatever he was missing in our relationship as well.  The rules were simple: Our relationship ALWAYS takes priority.  We would have no secrets.  We would be safe.  We would not have random one night stands, the person would have to be someone with at least a few small, short, even delicate strings, but they had to have some strings and it had to mean something, in some way, just because those are the people we are.  There is zero worry in either of us leaving each other for some side action, ever. Period.  Zilch.

That was five years ago and, frankly, neither of us had taken each other up on the offer seriously, although the husband did have a dalliance or three a year or so back which tested me, but I found I rather liked it.  Sadly, it wasn’t anything lasting. Although, that point served as the realization that giving each other the freedom to seek what we did not find at home wasn’t a bad thing and that we would survive anything and thrive with it. At that point, I knew one day I would find “the boy”, I just never dreamed he’d be a bunny.

So, all that to say, today was The Day.  You know the details of how it happened more randomly than planned and even through the stress of that and putting Belle first, it worked and it worked well.  We connected and I found my inner dominant was alive, thriving, and actually a freaking creative genius.  My brain likes Thumper the man. My penis likes, well, evidently adores, Thumper the boy. It’s quite a pairing really and one he may write more about as the weeks and months move forward but I am not here to tell those sticky details.

If you have read the latest Denying Thumper, you know all of this and also know that he had that mild freak out moment upon exiting the airport and getting on the highway about his “asshole-ish” side wanting to run away, just slightly this time, but it was still there.  As he said, it was less for him this time that in the past and it’s nothing he and I won’t work through, especially with our miles and times apart and the fact that we like each other as people, even though, for the record, let’s just say we were very right about our suspicion that my huge little man – you don’t now me well enough yet that I still can’t pretend – did fit nicely “down there”.  What you don’t know is that the feeling he had is not just limited to a bisexual man sexing up a gay man and then running, it might just be men in general because I too had that feeling and remember having that way in the past, even with my husband when we met, and, I can still remember an awkward conversation in my car, more than 17 years ago where I tried to slow things down because I was feeling that “asshole-ish” part of me wanting to run away to Yemen simply because I liked, even possibly loved, him. He didn’t let me win that conversation that night and many years, two houses, several job changes, and multiple german cars later, I thank the universe each and every single day that I lost that talk.  After Thumper dropped me off today, the plane simply could not fly fast enough to get me home because this day just made me want the husband in my arms more than ever. EVER.  Plus, I could not wait to tell him as I was so proud.

Also, if you have read it, you know Thumper talked to Belle. That simple fact made me feel amazing, because, whether she realizes it or not, she now controls two men, although one of whom she has not and most likely will never meet, although stranger things have happened.  Well, I talked to the husband too, upon arrival home.  I’d been gone 10 days (a very rare occurrence as I am usually just 3-4 at a time) and there was a lot to cover, so I didn’t know how to just do it.  Actually, he was very wonderful and took me to dinner to my favorite Mexican place, one he actually hates, and we started talking about my morning.  It was going so smooth and then suddenly turned into a Seinfeld episode because as I said, “yes, we did” we started hearing a woman scream “Jake, Jake, Wake up Jake” over and over again from the bar across from our booth.  It turns out an old man, a regular there, passed out and they thought he had died.  He didn’t and to make this quick, instead of confessing the morning over cheese dip, we, both being somewhat tall, aged athletic types, were summoned to help carry this man, who had wet himself – yeah – to a nearby couch where he would await paramedics.  After a lot of Purell, we actually started eating again and, finally, he said “So, did you fuck him?” right as the waitress stops by the see if we dropped something on the floor or if it was the old man’s and then proceeds to pop a pocket Bible on the table – really – I have ALWAYS thought God had a sense of humor and this just proved it to me.  Oh the comedic timing.

Side story aside, he was AMAZING.  His first question to me though was “how was Belle with this and does she know I am good with this too?” I thought that was random, and sweet but showed me that he really, really was okay with it and was almost encouraging.  Actually, in fact, he was excited, I mean, literally excited -“down there” – because he had wanted this for me for so long and was so proud I took the step to do this and very proud I found someone like Thumper that we did not have to worry about showing up on our porch, telling friends, or wanting more.  The funny thing is he told me that selfishly, he now felt even more free to explore his interests, following our same guidelines, and that made me so happy too.  Finally, when we got home, he read the Denying Thumper post, the first time I had shown him the blog, and his response was something like “It’s amazing how much he loves her and how they have worked this out.  She is his core and I can only hope one day you write something that says the same thing about me to those who dare judge you two”.   He then said, and I so love this,  “I hope you take as much control of him as allowed, learn from it, grow with it, use it, and keep his ass plugged and in line as I know you want to control that.  Tell me about it or not tell me about it.  That’s fine.  BUT, BUT, the absolute only thing is I am counting on you BOTH is to make 100 percent fucking sure that his service to you, gives me and Belle much better service at home, because, well, while you may own his ass, she owns all of him and, well, I own you, dude (his term for boy).  Don’t you two let us, the significant others, down.  EVER.” How fucking great is that?

So, now,  I really am free and it feels amazing (as did Thumper btw).

I think to sum this up in a succinct little package I might close with the fact I like him.  I like his metal cock.  I like his now plugged ass, as that is one of my rules. He is My boy (well, loaned) and he is and will be a fucking great one.

Thanks for letting me guest post.

Drew