22 seconds of glory

Among the other things that have changed around here since Belle has started to keep me locked up >95% of the time (99% so far this month) is the length of time I can fuck before I shoot my load.

Note, I’m not talking about orgasm. I’m talking about driving right up to it like Thelma and Louise going over the cliff yet jumping from the car James Kirk-style before reaching the point of no return. That was yesterday except it took me about 22 seconds (literally) from the time she guided the penis into her warm and inviting pussy until I was holding it stock-still and filling her up with my load.

Granted, I was worked up beforehand. I woke up two hours before she did and spent that time looking at porn and stopping the paper and the mail while we’re out of town for the holidays and looking at more porn. Plus a little Facebook and then more porn. Did I mention the porn? Anyway, by the time she gave me the key and I took the Halfshell off, the end was full of slippery leakage.

I kept my shit together enough not to bug her prior to getting her off with what she reported was a pretty sweet orgasm. The penis was merely chubby for most for the time I was working on her, but as she wound up for the climax it got about as hard as it can and, as she went over the falls, I pushed into her side and nearly felt like I came (or was about to) myself.

Patience at this point can be difficult. I know I’m going in otherwise I wouldn’t be unlocked so it’s a battle of internal wills (higher brain vs. lower) in the time following her climax and the moment she lets me mount her that’s probably not half as long as it seems.

In the past eleven weeks or so, I’ve been out for sex nine times. The average time out is about 40 minutes. In the past, I’d be out way longer than that. Maybe all weekend, but not anymore. Long way of saying, the penis is hypersensitive. In its protective metal shell it doesn’t feel anything. Of course, no playing with it in the shower or anything like that. Zero stimulation, not even the inside of my pants. Nothing. So, when the time comes, every millimeter of its shaft reports back what it feels like sliding into her. Sliding into the only place its allowed purely enjoyable sensation.

In those 22 seconds, I went from the breathless initial entrance to feeling pretty good about my stamina. Yeah, I thought, this isn’t so bad. I could keep this up for a while. Really give her her money’s wor-

ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck

STOP.

Squirt. Squirt, squirt.

Sigh.

And then the erection goes away. It just won’t stay up anymore after ejaculation. As if it’s forgotten what it’s there to do. I try to keep fucking her, but it’s no good. It just slides out, sticky and slick, and I curl into her. I no longer feel any intense frustration at that point like I would in the past. No slow burn of denial. Just a contentment with my status. Perhaps a bit of guilt I couldn’t give her more of what she wanted to feel. But it seems my itchy trigger is feature, not a bug.

I wait all week, sometimes two, for one chance to be inside her. All those hours for my 22 seconds of glory.

3 thoughts on “22 seconds of glory

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