Winces, ointments, and fantasies

“I love that sound.”

That’s what Belle said after she gave me the key to the Steelheart and, as I was removing it, I made wincing grunty noises as each of my swollen balls popped through the device’s A-ring. She loves the sound of my balls being released because it means she’s going to have some fun with the penis.

But I wasn’t. Following our previous experiments with lidocaine lotion, reader nagadikandang related their experience with a similar product called Tattoo Soothe. It comes in two varieties, but the one I got is 5% Lidocaine, 20% benzocaine and 5% tetrazine. It’s pretty damned expensive. Fifteen grams of the stuff costs about $30 on Amazon.

However, the additional ingredients seem to make it more potent than lidocaine all by itself. The consistency of Tattoo Sooth is thicker and stickier than the lotions I’ve used in the past. It doesn’t go on as easily and is a little more difficult to wipe off. I applied it, rolled a condom over everything to ensure it didn’t dry out, and waited exactly 15 minutes before removing it. I was totally and completely deadened. I felt nothing. While I used to think lidocaine left me totally numb, if it’s possible, Tattoo Sooth left me feeling even more than totally numb. Like there was a sensation vacuum left at the end of the penis.

That may have been too much of a good thing. I couldn’t get hard enough to penetrate Belle so she could get off. That’s the bad news. The good news is she was a chatty little thing that night.

“Have I ever told you that I sometimes fantasize that you’re a girl? A girl with a cock.”

N-o. Nope. Never told me that. Definitely would have remembered hearing that before.

“Ever had a three way?”

Once, but it didn’t work out.

“Two girls?”

No, one girl and another guy.

“What if we had a three way with another girl?”

Oh, yeah, I’m there.

“What do you imagine that would be like?”

You’d be riding the numbed penis while she sat on my face and the two of you kissed and played with each other’s tits.

“Purrr…”

Then we talked about the flirty policeman.

“I imagined that I took him into one of those below-street brownstone entrances, under the stairs, and fucked him right there…”

Ung. Yeah?

“His cock was so thick and fat I had a hard time getting it in…”

The one and only deficiency she’s admitted to feeling about the penis is its relative lack of girthiness. She doesn’t like them long, but she likes them hefty. I’m not hefty, but the imaginary policeman lover was.

At one point, she demonstrated on me how she sucked the cop’s cock, but of course, I couldn’t feel it in the parts that mattered. I could feel the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her lips, but only at the base of the shaft where it did me no good.

It’s interesting to me that in her fantasy encounter with the cop, she was clearly dominant. In my fantasy, he was, but she told it to me as if she was the aggressor and controller of the encounter.

As I said, I couldn’t get hard enough to let her fuck me (which could have just as easily been a little bit of stress I was feeling regarding how long the numbing agent would last), so she sat on top of me and ground her pussy against whatever condition the penis was in. I didn’t know because I could feel nothing. But she did come.

Afterward, she told me I could fuck her. And I did, after a good deal of coaxing, but I felt almost nothing. Just enough to get hard from the activity, but not nearly enough to ever come from it. Not even close.

As I fucked her, I told her how I wished my orgasm was something physical I could actually give her. Take it out of my body and place it in her hand. I saw it as a small red gem glowing steadily. I told her how I dreamed of watching her close her fist around it and squeezing it until it shattered and its dark pieces fell out onto the floor. Extinguished. How that would leave me with an hollow place that would only be filled with an unquenchable desire for something that was physically unable for me to achieve.

I fell asleep before the penis came back to life. The next morning, she let me fuck her again, only this time I could feel it. I got close to coming several times and leaked a few surges of sticky ejaculate into her before she told me my time was up. She left me out of the device until this morning when, while kissing me goodbye for the day, she whispered into my ear that I needed to lock myself back up.

So I did. So I am.

3 Replies to “Winces, ointments, and fantasies”

  1. I loved the way you described your orgasm, that you wanted to put in her hand. That was very poetic. I like the way your mind works, and how you write everything from the heart, and in an articulate manner that makes me feel like I’m really looking into your soul. Glad I stumbled upon you!

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