Going up, going down

We had to leave the northern retreat a day earlier than expected. On the long drive home, with my daughter and her friend in the backseat of the truck, I was unable to ask Belle the one thing I really wanted to know. In a moment of stopped traffic, I texted her…


Belle continues to be reticent when it comes to having me go down on her. When it happens, which is relatively infrequently, she always asks me if I’d do it. Asks. A) She doesn’t have to ask. She can simply tell. “Eat me out.” My only acceptable response to that is to put my face in her pussy. B) I always want to eat her out. I simply cannot describe how much I love her pussy and the closer and more intimate I can get to it, the better. There really is no way to get closer once my nose is buried in it.

I think women in general (not all, of course, but a fair number) aren’t as socially conditioned to have the same kind of feelings towards their junk as guys are. I don’t want to psychoanalyze, but it seems our culture spends a lot of time shaming the pussy and talking about odor or idealizing the labia-free image or whatever and that leads to a generally negative vibe in many cases. Personally, I think pussies should be celebrated. Belle’s is like the center of my universe. I want to touch it, taste it, be inside it. I just Want. It.

But even more than simply telling me to eat it, she seems even more hesitant to climb up and push it down into my face. But, invariably, she absolutely loves it after. It’s that moment when we reach the fulcrum of effort and she starts grinding and gyrating down on me more than I’m licking and lapping up at her and the pussy monster inside her gets feverish and insistent of its release that I love the most. When the lower half of my face is slick with the combination of my spit and her pussy juice and my face and mouth become an elaborate masturbatory aid and she lets her need for pleasure override any lingering reticence. She rarely seems to come harder than at that moment, squatted down over my mouth. Bliss for us both.

“Why don’t we do that more often?” she asked, still breathing heavily.

“I have no earthly idea,” I replied.

“Can you breathe when I’m up there?”

And I think, Obvioulsy otherwise I’d be dead, but I say, “Yes, easily,” and chuckle.

After, she went down on me. This always takes me by surprise because even before she kept the penis locked up most of the time she rarely sucked me off. She seemed especially inspired because I’m quite sure had she kept it up I would have come in her mouth. I am under explicit orders not to come in any circumstance, but in her mouth is a way I’ve never done it. It was surprising how good she was at is considering how rarely she does it. But oh fuck did my toes curl.

“Did you like that?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Good. I need the practice.”

For him, she left off because we both knew what she meant. The little bit she’s told me regarding what he’s said to her suggests he likes getting sucked off and expects her go down on him. I warned her getting me into her mouth is going to be easier than getting him, but I’m perfectly happy if she wants to practice a lot more in the future. It’s what makes us perfect, after all.

Thumper’s night

Yes, she let me come on Saturday.

The whole thing was wonderful. Before we got down to business, she told me to undress and get into bed. I did, on my knees, burrowing my face into her, kneeling and demonstrating my willingness to submit. She ran her hand up my naked back and caressed my skin with her nails. I hadn’t been feeling super submissive up to that point, but the weight of the event was starting to dawn on me. I was going to have an orgasm. An orgasm I really wanted and was only going to get because she was allowing it to happen. I got under the covers and laid next to her, opening myself to more of her caressing.

She ran her hands all over me except on the aching part that wanted it the most. I shifted around trying to help her find what she was obviously avoiding.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please touch it.”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” she replied calmly. She’s always calm in bed. I get so turned on and fight for control and she stays cool and collected.

“I want it so bad.”

“I know.”

After a few moments, she finally found her cock. I gasped. Even though I had been unlocked for weeks and had plenty of opportunity to feel a hand on my erections, this was altogether different. This was her hand.

“How many times did you play with this while I left you unlocked?” She asked. I avoided her eyes. I hadn’t expected that. I felt guilty. “How many times?” she repeated. Not angrily, but firmly.

“I don’t know…” I said sheepishly. I felt like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You don’t know,” she repeated.

“No, I don’t,” I said. Then, eventually, “Lots. More than I should have.”

“Uh huh.”

“You said I could that one time,” I said, gamely groping for an out.

She grabbed my nuts and squeezed. The pain was instant and severe. I gasped as her griped tightened and I felt one testicle slowly and uncomfortably grind against the other. She let go and I collapsed against her, panting. The pain throbbed dully and the cock was harder than before.

After a few moments of relief, she quickly grasped my testes in her hand again, squeezing even harder than before. The pain seared up and out of my groin and spread throughout my body. Her nails began to dig into the soft scrotum skin. I realized I was being punished for playing with her cock.

“I’m sorry,” I finally gasped and she released me.

I nuzzled into her and apologized again.

“You’re weak,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“I’ve been far too indulgent with you,” she said. “I’m going to lock you back up tomorrow. You need to focus more on me.”

“Yes, Belle Fille,” I whispered. Her attitude was unexpected, as was the intensity of her punishment. She had quickly driven me deeply into subspace.

A short while later, she allowed me to begin bringing her to orgasm. I pulled up her top and started suckling her nipples, feeling them stiffen in response. I brought my hand down between her legs and felt the glowing heat coming through the material of her pajama bottoms. I pulled them down and felt her slick wetness under my fingers.

“I want your tongue in my pussy,” she said bluntly. “I want you to eat me out.”

I moaned and quickly moved between her legs, planting my mouth on her wet snatch. I absolutely reveled in her juices, slurping them down as the soft folds of her flesh responded to my insistent tongue. I reached up and played with her nipple. Soon, she was breathing hard and gasping “oh, fuck” repeatedly. She came really hard and I laid my face against her wet heat, rhythmically grinding the hard cock pressing into the mattress.

After basking for a few minutes, she brought me back up and indicated it was time for me to go. I easily slid the cock into her pussy, loosely relaxed and supremely wet as it always is post-cunnilingus. I quickly got up to speed, wanting to enjoy the feeling of purposeful fucking but also wanting to feel the orgasm I knew I’d have. I held her head with one hand, the other on her hip, and kissed her face. I felt such love and affection for her. Felt so grateful to her. So connected to her.

All too soon, I felt the orgasm lock and load. I was still pumping, but beyond the point of no return. It started to well up inside me from great depths. I gasped, “This is yours,” and shot my load inside her. Again and again the cock flexed and more of my seed surged into her. I was grunting and gasping and just fucking coming like a feral pig. I had been so horny – wound up so tight in anticipation – and all of it was swirling away inside as the pent-up energy drained out with the orgasm like water down a drain.

Immediately afterward, I was spent. Totally spent. Exhaustion came over me like a heavy blanket. I felt contentment unlike any I’ve felt in quite a while. This was no half orgasm. There was no restraint on my part. It was my night and I came completely. In no time, I was out. Deeply asleep. Content.

Not that it matters

I had kind of a crappy day yesterday at work. Lots of negative energy and stress and, by the time I got home, I wanted to connect to Belle physically, but wasn’t exactly horny. It was one of those times where, had I still been able to, I would have gone and jerked off to relieve the stress. In any event, I told her I really wanted to do stuff that night and I think she understood it wasn’t the usual whiny horny Thumper speaking but her mate who needed some special attention.

“Special attention”, of course, takes on a whole new definition when one’s manparts are locked under stainless steel. As we were waiting for the offspring to fall asleep, we watched Stephen Fry in America and I showed her how the lock works on the Steelheart. After an appropriate amount of time, she told me to turn off the light and strip. When I started to strip while the light was still on, she chided me for not following directions.

Once I got the order figured out and asked permission to enter her bed, I assumed my preferred position – head down, ass in the air, face burrowing into her. With my legs spread, I felt the unfamiliar heft of the new device suspended between my legs. She ran her hands over my back and I moved up to get closer. She was on her back, I was on all fours above, kissing her and letting the device rub back and forth over her thigh.

“It’s so smooth,” she said. I think Belle really likes it. She’s the one who said it looked so natural the first time she saw it. I suppose she’s right. It does hang and curve like a real cock, albeit a big fat one made of warm steel.

I asked for and was allowed to touch her all over. Not being allowed to touch her breasts or between her legs makes those moments when I can all the more special. Soon, I was lapping and sucking on her nipples and feeling the new sensation of a curved, yet restrained erection in the steel tube. I held off on going anywhere else other than her breasts since I wanted to extend as much as possible the salutatory effects feeling her writhe to my touch was having on my grumpiness. Eventually, I got into a position where my mouth was on one nipple, my hand on the other, and the elbow of that arm pressed gently into her mons. She started to grind against it and moan. As she got hotter, I got hotter and the pressure in the tube got higher.

What I really wanted was to go down on her. As soon as I had her pajama bottoms off, I shifted my position first by crossing over to her other nipple and then pivoting down so I could plant my face on her snatch. I had to move quickly since she was very close to coming through nothing more than grinding against me so my time between her legs was all too brief. As she came, she squeezed my head hard with her thighs – so hard it hurt.

Afterward, I was pretty worked up. I spooned against her, hard tube nestled between her ass cheeks, and tried to allow sleep to overtake me.

“You can’t even tell when I’m hard,” I said, suggesting that the hard tube never changed regardless of what was going on inside it.

“No,” she replied, “Not that it matters.”

*whimper*

It took a while before sleep caught up with me.