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Cheatin’ heart

I saw on the Twitter the other day someone post a link to their blog where they talked about whether masturbation could be considered cheating on one’s partner. I didn’t click the link so can’t give them credit or even see what they said because at the time the topic didn’t seem that interesting. But here I am still thinking about it.

First off, for me, yes, masturbation would be considered cheating. I’m not allowed to do it. I consider it something I used to do back when I had control over the penis. That’s gone and along with it went my right to jack it whenever I want and the resulting orgasms. So I do personally consider at least masturbating with the penis to be a form of cheating. But that’s just me.

But that’s not the only kind of masturbation one can do. This morning, I took advantage of the last school day (and concomitant child-free time we’ll see in our house for a while) to scratch an itch only a big fat dildo can get to for me. I had a grand time and would probably still be doing it even now if not for the demands of work, life, etc. Is that cheating? At one point, Belle told me I had to have permission to do even that but I don’t bother asking her anymore. She’s made it clear that she’s not interested in working with me on my need to be someone’s hole so, when the craving gets to be too much, I’m my own. I do not consider that cheating since the activity involves my deeply-seated need to seat something deeply inside my ass. It’s a thing she’s not interested in so I’m not withholding anything from her. And, since I don’t come at the end, I’m not depleting my reserves of sexual energy in the slightest. Quite the opposite.

But what about you, oh dear amorphous blob of the average sex blog viewing masses? Is masturbation cheating when you do it? That all depends. If you’re the lower-case consonant in a power exchange dynamic like I am, yep, without explicit permission, I’d say it probably is. If you’re the upper-case consonant, nope, you can do whatever you want since the rules are yours. (I generalize and assume, of course.) But if you’re not playing the D/s game, I would say that I’m inclined to think excessive masturbation is a form of cheating.

Back in the Bad Old Days of our relationship, when we never had sex (OK, not never, but like maybe once every couple of months at best), I would jack-off regularly. I’d leave the bed, go into the den and edge myself for as long as possible looking at and reading porn until I spewed all over. Masturbation wasn’t the thing that caused our problems but it exacerbated them. The more I jerked-off the less interested I was in Belle and working on our issues and the greater the gap between us grew. I became angry and resentful and that led to all kinds of nasty stuff which, in turn, led to where we are now which is glorious so I’m not bemoaning that it had to happen. But we were lucky.

So yeah, in the specific case I laid out above, I think masturbation is cheating the relationship. It may be the case that people with extraordinarily high sex drives or the young can pull one out in the morning and still have enough left at the end of the day to make their partner feel special. Obviously, there are no absolutes. But you know what kind of person you are and where your relationship is. So you tell me. Are you cheating yourself and your partner when you take care of yourself? Are you using easy access to your wiggly bits as a way to ignore other issues and/or obligations?

I guess, at the end of it all, I can’t say if it’s cheating for you. Context is everything. Personally, I think people in relationships would be better served by pleasuring themselves absent their partners as infrequently as possible. But I’ve said things like that before and gotten in trouble. Oh well. I still think it…

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Seeking the perfect fit

According to our friends in science, women like bigger and fatter cocks than the average man can offer.

No, for real. A study conducted by the UCLA Sexual Psychophysiology and Affective Neuroscience Laboratory found that women, when presented with phalluses of various lengths and thicknesses, on average chose six and a half inches as their preferred penis length. That was their preference for both long-term relationships and one night stands. However, women chose slightly thicker penises as their preference for the quick hook-ups.

On the other hand, The Journal of Sexual Medicine recently found that the average American penis is 5.6″ long with 4.8″ of “girth” (which I assume is circumference). That’s almost an inch shorter than the female preference. The article on the UCLA study didn’t say what the girth preference was, specifically, but I’d assume 4.8″ of circumference is also on the low side of things. For those keeping score, the penis on me is nearly exactly that long but about a tenth of an inch less girthy.

These findings, of course, come as no surprise to me (or Belle who, after reading the article, said, “I could have told you that.”). I’ve gone to — ahem — great lengths to find a phallus Belle finds to be maximally pleasurable. In every single case, these other cocks are bigger than the penis. Like, a lot bigger. The one we have that’s nearly exactly the same size as me never became her favorite. So while Belle has enjoyed the bigger ones, she’s always found them to be too long. That led me to getting her the Vixskin Buck. Buck’s a full inch shorter than the Maverick or Blue but still the same circumference. More than an inch and a half more girth than the penis offers. A 25% improvement.

Vixskin Tex, Buck, and Maverick
Vixskin Tex, Buck, and Maverick

We’ve only used Buck twice. Once right after he arrived and again this weekend. The first time, Belle claimed it was the “perfect size.” Not too long and nice and fat. (Aside: It really helps in finding the right cock for your wife when she to loses her inhibitions in telling you the one you have is not the one. Once past that issue, the search gets pretty efficient.) Then Buck sat unused for several months. Belle doesn’t seem to like to wait for me to get the strap-on strapped-on so when she wants to get fucked by a big cock the task usually goes to Blue. Since she’s in charge of the action from on top, the excessive length is easily controlled. In any event, poor old perfect yet neglected Buck came back out of the toy drawer on Sunday. Belle had let me out of the Steelheart just moments before. I had never used a strap-on while unlocked before and she wasn’t sure it could be done.

At first, after feeling the straps slide into place between my ass cheeks and cut across them from the weight of the dildo in front, the penis got quite hard. But it sat beneath Buck and was pushed down and away, bent at the root. Physically disrespected by her preferences. I rolled back over and put my hand back in Belle’s hot pussy and sucked her tit while my other hand reached down and squeezed the hard penis against the firmer and less forgiving shaft of the dildo. The sensation of feeling the difference between the two was one of those things I suspect you’ll either immediately understand as a guy (or woman) who gets off on this kind of thing or you will totally fail to understand as someone who just doesn’t.

The penis felt especially thin and inconsequential compared to its fatter, heftier rival. That was simultaneously humiliating and and terrifically erotic. Humiliating with a particular finality in that it wasn’t from a situation I was placed in or from a name I was being called or anything like that. It was a humiliation rooted in who and what I was. I will never, ever have a penis the size Belle prefers. That burns. Really. But in that fire is found a kind of physic torment and pain that triggers my cognitive masochism. It stung like a switch across my ass but also felt so, so good.

The last two times we used dildos on Belle (this one and the last time Blue came out), she told me she didn’t want me to put any lube on them. Both times, she failed to orgasm from the effort. That’s a disappointment, but a good lesson. Belle climbed up on my and put Buck inside her and fucked him hard and long but could never get the right feeling from him. She climbed off and told me to fuck her from above which I dutifully attempted. All the while, I could feel the tip of the still-hard penis brush against her inner thigh at an odd angle. Still, no dice. I took the harness off and suggested she let me try something different. I placed a small amount of water-based lube (Astroglide gel) on Buck and manually fucked her with it while flicking my tongue  over her clit. Occasionally, I’d feel the big cock slide by as the tip of my tongue came into contact with it. Eventually, she came nice and hard with the dildo buried inside her and my tongue pressed onto her clit.

I figured she’d have had enough penetration for one day but allowed me to fuck her anyway. “It’s not like I’m going to feel you,” she said.

Unf. 

I slipped in easily, but not as easily as I do after Blue or Maverick have been to work. I think, if my Belle was the kind to fuck around with other guys, that I’d eventually be able to tell how big their cocks were just be being allowed to stick the hard penis in her. Buck had left her far more open than I would have and pushed the depths of her pussy out of reach of the penis, but I was able when thrusting very firmly to feel the very tip graze against the opening to her cervix. Even though Buck and Maverick/Blue are supposed to have the same diameter, I find the latter leave her feeling more fucked than the former. I suspect that’s because Maverick and Blue are fatter over a greater length of shaft than Buck. Following them, the penis has no chance of hitting bottom.

In any event, she let me fuck her longer than I thought she would. I was able to keep my own orgasm at bay and only got really close once. After, while laying in each other’s arms and nuzzling and cuddling, I told her how important it is for me to hear that she likes those bigger cocks over the penis.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty saying things like that to me.”

“I don’t feel guilty,” she replied. She asserted that we would need to spend more time finding the right combination of dildo and technique. That “perfect fit” I can’t and never will give her.

Later that night, as she was drifting off to sleep, she asked me groggily how long I could stay locked up. The question left me feeling extraordinarily submissive and it was difficult for me to form a coherent answer. I stumbled over it just before she fell asleep. The next morning, I gave her a real answer. The only possible answer. The one she must have known before she even asked the question.

“For as long as you wanted me to be.”

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Squirm and hum

I was hanging out in the shower yesterday quirting water through the Steelheart as I do. This is the usual moment when I can tell how I’m coming along from a lock-up male perspective. How am I feeling about it?

This particular morning, I was doing pretty good. “Pretty good” in this case being defined as being so horny and frustrated that just the feeling of the water surging around the locked meat (specifically, how it swirled over the corona) felt so amazing as to cause the contents of the steel tube to swell and block additional water from getting around in there. MOAR WATER!

As an aside, I know I’m not supposed to play with it, but does this count? It’s incidental to the act of cleaning it which is necessary. I dunno. The way it swells up in there kind of obviates the issue, anyway. Once it starts, it self-seals and stops.

And, you know, a normal guy in my situation would be wanting out of the fucking metal as quickly as possible but I, as any careful reader of this blog knows, am not normal. I had the feeling of being totally right with the world. I was exactly where I needed and should be. Inescapably locked, terrifically horned up, truly desperate for some kind of pleasurable sensation from the penis, yet hoping she’d keep me like that forever. Hoping that when we have sex this weekend, it’s with me in the device and one of her dildos in her.

This morning, after a very loud thunderstorm moved through and knocked our power out, I got her off sans dildo but still locked. She came twice in fairly rapid succession which is unusual for her. After, I climbed on top of her and pressed my stifled, steel-clad erection into her and she said, “You’re not getting out.”

I squirmed and hummed inside. I wanted two totally opposite things but got the one I deserved. I told her how lucky I was to have her along with some other things.

“I love it when you talk subby to me.”

Bliss.

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It’s not the size of your striatum that matters, it’s what you do with it

I keep having weird thoughts when I meet people. Not all people, but some. For guys (like this dude that was working a convenience store I happened into the other day), I wonder what kind of porn they watch. I try and pick if it’s classy or kinky or raunchy or just tasteless. I find myself sorting through various genres in my head and trying to match it to the guy in front of me. Harder than it may sound since I think one’s porn preferences are, more than anything, a mirror to one’s soul and souls are rarely on display.

I mention this because of the recent “porn makes men stupid” articles that have been floating around. This bit is from The Daily Mirror:

Too much porn can make men stupid, scientists have revealed.

A study by German researchers at the Max Planck Institute for Human Development found that men who watch a lot of porn generally have a smaller striatum.

The striatum is the part of the brain which processes ‘rewards and motivation’ – leading scientists to believe that pornography damages this function.

They can also have less grey matter, making their brains generally smaller than those of men who rarely watch it.

And I’m thinking, wait a minute. How do they know the porn makes the brains smaller? Maybe their brains were smaller to begin with and that’s why they look at the porn.

The female leading author of the study Simone Kühn, did point out however, that it isn’t clear whether X rated material is making brains smaller, or whether men with a decreased striatum tend to watch it more often.

Oh. OK. Well, at least they were thinking about that. And, you know, I look at a lot of fucking porn, so maybe my brain’s OK after all.

I don’t know if porn makes me stupid, but I can certainly feel stupid while looking at it. Sometimes, I can get lost in it and lose complete track of time. Usually, guys have a built-in governor in their orgasm that makes them stop but guys like me don’t have that. We just keep making whatever brain chemical gets made when we’re aroused (not to be confused with the other kind of fluid that leaks out of our penises) and it’s some pretty fucking potent stuff. So that’s me, the slack-jawed, glassy-eyed porn addict letting his striatum wither away as he looks at an endless Tumblr stream of raunch and sodomy.

That striatum thingy was new to me so I looked it up. According to the Wikipedia:

In humans, the striatum is activated by stimuli associated with reward, but also by aversive, novel, unexpected, or intense stimuli, and cues associated with such events.

It’s been a really long time since I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express, but that’s really interesting to me. Clearly, people like me aren’t hooked up in the typical way vis-a-vis the whole “reward and motivation” system. I’m not motivated like most people and the things I find rewarding most others would think were kinda fucked up.

In an unrelated but also kinda not turn of events, I found again this old article from The Daily Beast about cuckolding being the “intellectual sex fetish.”  I don’t know about that, but I had a hard time even finishing that article at work.

This isn’t like swinging, and it’s not a threesome. Cuckolded men (aka “cucks”) only observe their wives’ infidelities, they don’t participate. And that’s why they find it a turn-on: They’re left out, looking on as the woman they love climaxes with a better man than them. It’s a form of psychological sadomasochism. Some people get turned on by whips, chains, and physical pain. Cucks get aroused by mental anguish.

Yeah, and some of us get turned on by whips and chains and physical pain and the idea of our wive’s fucking around with other guys.

“Imagine looking at the guy who’s about to go to bed with your wife. Imagine hearing the man crying out in bed with your wife,” says Paul, who pleasures himself “like a madman” during these encounters. “The high point of cuckolding is when your wife says she wants the other guy all the time and never wants you. Sally’s body makes it very clear that this is true. It hurts me worse to know this, so it’s better to know.” Worst/best of all is watching Sally bond with the other man not only physically but emotionally—when, as Paul puts it, she’s “masturbating him with her mind.”

I wonder how the striatum is similar in kinky folk and different from the vanilla kind (if at all). Or maybe I need to stop thinking I’m on the cast of St. Elsewhere and just roll with it.

Oh, and the weird thing I think about when I meet some women is what they look like giving head. Or if they actually do give head. Or swallow. Or let their boyfriends fuck their ass. That kind of thing. So, if we ever meet, you’ll know I’m either thinking about your porn habits or imagining you with a big cock in your mouth. Sorry. Nothing personal. Can hardly control it…

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Empathy

Yesterday I was Tumblin’ and came across an animated GIF of a woman reaching around a man to jack him off. He was standing and she was right behind him, leaning against something. They were both totally naked. The image was looping over the few frames where the guy was shooting his load. I found myself unable to scroll past. His ejaculate leapt from the end of his cock in a graceful arch and his face showed both the knitted furrow of pre-orgasmic concentration on his forehead and the gasp of release on his lips as they parted and his load surged out. It was…intoxicating.

I don’t know what it was about this specific image, but it really affected me. The more I watched it (and I must have seen that guy shoot a couple of hundred times, at least), the more I became him. I felt her grip around his hard shaft and the hot slug of goo push it’s way down the heart of his cock and release into the air. His balls tighten and prickle, the hitch in his breath as the orgasmic release hit his brain. The weakness in his knees as he slumped back into her warm breasts. Over and over and over.

UUUUNGH.

And I was like, Fuck, I want to come. I really do. I want to feel that. And the weight of the finality of never feeling that again really hit me. I can’t say to myself that, sure it’s been a long, long time, but it’ll happen someday. Just wait. It’ll happen. Because, no. I have no reason to think it will.

I told Belle about it last night as I was laying on top of her and rubbing the free and very hard penis into pelvis. I told her how badly that image made me want what he was getting. How great I felt the loss of orgasm at that moment.

And she said something along the lines of, “Yeah, that’s nice. Too bad for you it’s never going to happen again. I know what’s best for you.”

My balls were already churning but that kicked everything up to eleven. I may have whimpered. I felt like I was at the bottom of a very deep well all the water crushing down was her and her control over the penis. And while it was difficult to accept, it also seemed so right. That’s where I should be.

I told her it was worth it. That she should take all the orgasms I’d ever have for herself. To use that energy to maintain me how she wanted me to be.

And then we fucked. But only she came.

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HNThumper LXI: Skinny dip

Jumped in the pool the other day after my workout. When we designed the backyard and had the pool put in last year, it was with this specific opportunity in mind. I wanted to be able to use my backyard without clothing whenever possible. About 90% of the yard and the entire pool are outside anyone’s view (unless they’re pressed up against the fence and peeking through a crack in which case they’ll see what they see). I look forward to being out there more as the summer progresses and the kids go off to camp, etc.

Here’s the moderately SFW take. The NSFW alternate follows after the jump.

watery

Continue reading “HNThumper LXI: Skinny dip”

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Twice on Sunday

Belle and I talked this morning about me going outside our relationship for things she doesn’t want to provide. She reiterated that my permission to do so remains. So, worries of drama or other calamities by some were unfounded.

Her guidelines are a little clearer now. For one, she doesn’t want my dalliances to interfere with our life. They should be on my time. That complicates things a bit, but life is complicated. She doesn’t necessarily want to read about what I do and wants any blog posts on the subject to be behind a jump so she can ignore them. She also wants to retain her privacy and anonymity. Finally, and as she’s already said, the penis will always be locked up. That’s hers. She said it turns her on knowing that even in that kind of situation she controls it.

An unanswered question for both of us is how this might affect our dynamic. Since she’s the most important thing in the world to me, all I can promise is she’ll always have primacy in all things. Whatever relationships I develop alongside ours will be subordinate. Based on my previous experience with extramarital relationships, I think I can say my feelings for her will not diminish (and might even increase), but this is new territory for both of us. A lingering possibility in all this is that some day she might want something outside our marriage. I told her I don’t feel I have any say in that. In my mind, she controls both what I’m allowed to do with my body and what she does with hers. She mentioned that she thought it was funny, after all we’ve been through and after all these years, that we’d both find things we can’t give the other. She can’t/won’t give me a certain flavor of sexual experience I crave and I…here I expected her to say I wasn’t well enough endowed, but it’s that I’m not able to take her (and, maybe a little because of the size of the penis). I can’t fuck her and use her and come in her the way she wants. She craves being topped and I’m not a top. Maybe someday, she’ll let herself have what she craves.

In any event, she said she doesn’t have any problems with me seeking outside activities. She’s surprised in how little the prospect bothers her. At first, she figured it would be a very transactional thing. I’d find someone to fuck me and that would be it. But neither of us are capable of transactional sex, I don’t think. I need to have some kind of connection to the person, even if it’s not romance. Even so, she’s perfectly comfortable with me proceeding.

After that talk, we had lovely, leisurely sex. She told me up front I wasn’t going to come out of the device. She let me out Saturday morning so I could fuck her with Blue (which, she reports, “doesn’t even feel that big anymore”), but I had to put another device back on before I got out of bed. At least she let me in without Blue after she came. However, this morning I was left in the Looker 02 while she writhed under my fingers.

She came nicely and while she was basking I did my best not to grind the locked penis into her. The L02’s insert was choking the stifled erection and I told Belle how badly I wanted out so I could enjoy her. “You’ll have to wait,” she said. I replied that part of me hated that answer but another part of me knew it was best for me.

She didn’t let me fuck but she did allow me to lick. I moved down between her legs and sucked on her clit and inhaled as deeply as possible her essence. It was the first time I’ve ever gone down on her where I wasn’t trying to make her come. I was able to just enjoy the feeling and taste of her on my lips and tongue. I rubbed her wetness all across my face drenching me from my nose to my chin.

The other day when I picked her up from the airport, I experienced something probably only 17-year-olds and perpetually denied guys feel (at least as strongly as I did). She was in the car with me and I was happy to see her but at some point I felt it. Her pussy. It was there, too. I could sense it. Feel it’s gravitational pull. It left me feeling a little light-headed and with a chest full of butterflies. It intensity of it left me digging my fingers into her thigh which, I realized, was itself so close to it’s radiative heat. I so badly crave her pussy now that I’m not allowed to play with the penis and pretty much only come out of a device so I can fuck her. It’s like the other side of the coin from the penis now. She has me very well trained to be in tune with it.

Eventually, she started to warm to what I was doing. Every time I flicked her clit her leg would twitch until I was attacking it like it was my everything (and it is). She told me to get Pink so she could finish herself off while I sucked on her tits.

She came for a second time and I was left squeezing my swollen nuts.

 

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Deceleration

Belle was finally able to read my last post. Now that the prospect of me getting a little on the side is real, she’s told me we need to slow down a bit. Until we can talk face to face about things, I won’t be doing anything.

Of course, she’s the most important thing in the world to me. This simply can’t happen if she’s not comfortable. Right now, she’s not. Maybe in the future she will be. We’ll see what happens next.

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A gentleman caller

Remember how, at the beginning of the year, Belle gave me permission to find a guy who’d fuck me? And how I immediately reached out to an ex-boyfriend in a rather insensitive way? And how that led me to create a CollarMe profile that’s been pretty much totally ignored by the whole world? Yeah, that.

Belle said something to the effect that I might engage in some kind of activity while she was gone on her trip and I was all like, “Yeah right, honey.” I even commented in my last post that since “no real men have raised their hands for the job [of fucking me] I’m left to my own devices.”

Funny thing.

After I wrote that, a guy who reached out to me on Tumblr said…

Saw your post on DT this morning lamenting the fact that no “real men” had stepped up for your ass pounding, I mean prostate milking and I said to myself, well, first you have to meet one who might be willing to help you out. Wink, wink 😉

And even I’m not so dense that the message didn’t finally connect.

So he and I went out on a little date Wednesday afternoon to a local establishment. Well, date, I dunno. Two people met in a bar-like environment so I guess that’s a date. I will admit to being very nervous. I haven’t been in this situation in, oh I don’t know, like twenty years? And the fact that this was such a specific meeting with such a specific assumed objective (eventually — I may be a slut but I’m not easy) was a new experience for me.

I delayed finishing this post because I was waiting to be able to talk to Belle about it before hand. Since this is the first time the possibility of taking advantage of her permission has presented itself, I want to make sure she’s OK and still feeling comfortable with everything before it goes too far too fast. I texted the basic situation to her and waited for the conversation to happen. Turns out, she was waiting to read my post before talking to me, so here we are.

His name, I don’t think will intrude too much on his privacy in saying, is Michael. A little older than me. Also a transplant to this part of the country, though for not nearly as long as I’ve been. He’s originally from the more genteel climes of the Southeastern United States. His relationship status is complicated, but he is married to a woman. He likes to call himself heteroflexible which is as good as anything, I suppose. He hasn’t been with another man in quite some time. In fact, I’ve probably had naked fun time with a guy since the last time he has.

He’s very nice and complimentary and flattering of me. I will admit to liking that. It’s been quite some time since I was pursued like that. Of course, since he’s a guy, I can see right through his routine. He’s is trying to get into my pants, after all. But still. It’s nice.

We have another appointment next week, also in the afternoon since that’s most convenient to me as a single parent and all. No idea what’s on the agenda, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I suppose we should be more clear about that of only for logistical reasons. And, of course and most importantly, this has to remain comfortable for Belle. She should know (and now she does since I’m writing this) that she can pull the cord on the entire thing if it’s too much for her. There will be no resentment from me. The last thing in the world I want is for her to be unhappy or in any way put off by what I do on the side.

Assuming I continue to get the green light, there’s also the question of how much I can share here. She originally said she didn’t want to hear about what I do but I have this blog and it’s where I like to tell all my dirty secrets. So could I do that? Or no? Again, I want to be crystal clear so as to avoid hurting her in the slightest.

So, to summarize. Nervous, excited, cautious. Among other things. We’ll see.