Tag: orgasm denial

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Her choice

I woke up this morning like I wake up nearly every morning; penis locked and straining against its chastity device. By the time I left the bed, I was still locked up, but in between Belle let me out for some fun.

By the time we got to the part of the event where we were both naked and it was time for her to decide which of many ways available she’d like to be brought to orgasm, I was over her and grinding the newly freed and achingly hard penis into her pelvic region. Last time, she let me fuck her from above until she came and damn if I didn’t want to do it again. But, with me inches from slipping inside her and hopefully repeating my previous performance, she chose Blue.

And…wow, but I was truly hurt. She had me right there but didn’t want me. She wanted…it. Him. The big blue cock. There was a real pang of regret. Of wishing Blue wasn’t an option. I wasn’t mad or resentful about it. I don’t blame her for choosing it at all. I’d rather get fucked by it than me, too. But I didn’t enthusiastically leap for the toy drawer.

Before I could get to it, enthusiastically or not, she rolled me over onto my back and took the penis into her mouth. I don’t get this treat very often. I practically melted into the sheets, it felt so good. So warm and tender. After she finished, I kissed her and tasted penis on her lips. If my erection had flagged slightly upon hearing it was being passed over in favor of the big blueness, this little episode brought it right back.

“I’m going to pretend you’re my boyfriend while fucking you,” she mentioned.

A conflicting swirl of emotions on hearing that. My little cuckold wannabe thrilled to hear it but the part of me that a brief period before wanted to be instrument of her pleasure was left further annoyed.

Once Belle mounted Blue, she really went to town with it. We just got a new bed and, unlike the old creaky one it replaced, it’s totally solid, silent, and immobile even while hosting passionate motion. Eighty-eight was apparently very nice for her.

Usually, I’d wait for her to tell me I could fuck her after she comes like that, but after she rolled off of me I wasted no time ridding myself of Blue and rolling over onto her. I didn’t go so far as to enter without permission, but I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed the penis against her warm wetness. She reached down and put it in.

Normally when I fuck Belle, I can feel the outer lips of her wonderful pussy catch and slide past the head of the penis as it slips past. After she fucks Blue or Maverick, it’s more of a slickly frictionless motion. It feels like I barely touch her going in. Her comments from the other day — I can barely feel you…it’s like the penis isn’t even there — rang in my head and the heady, heavy thud of whatever the fuck it is that gets me off feeling her all stretched out by a bigger dick landed right in my gut. My silent little fit of pique collapsed under the weight of it.

You are second, I thought. Always and in all ways. 

And like that, whatever regret or disappointment or embarrassment that lingered over her choice changed polarity; instead of feeling negative and put-out over it, I felt the insistent hyperactive bounce of subby denial. I still felt the regret and embarrassment but was powered by them rather than diminished.

There was one point when I was fucking her freely and had my arms all wrapped around hers, enveloping her head and shoulders, while I was kissing her face and tasting her mouth and smelling her hair and, of course, resisting the pressing need to plant my seed inside her when I was so fully and completely in love with her. It wasn’t a feeling or an opinion. It was an existential reality.

I so badly needed that. We had no sex of any kind last week and the batteries that keep me going, already depleted by the orgasm she let me have two weeks ago, were feeling empty. I was feeling separate from her in a way I don’t like. Disconnected from her. I’m not saying things are back to normal even now, but that moment of clarity I found while plowing away at her loosely wet and stretched-out pussy was exactly the shot I needed.

Once she told me I was done fucking her, I disengaged slowly and with great effort. I wanted to stay in there. Forever. As I lingered, she pushed hard against my chest and made me roll off of her. The thought that I could get back in there if I really wanted to flitted through my head, but quickly passed. After a moment of grabbing at my balls and squeezing them out of frustration, I reached over and started to reassemble the Steelheart. She didn’t tell me to get back in but I knew she’d want me in before the day was out and it seemed to me that being locked up immediately would be best for me. I gave Belle the lock and she turned the key.

“Good job, Thumper.”

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By the numbers

The fourth Denying Thumper reader survey is over. Following are the results. Since I didn’t take my own survey, I’ll place asterisks next to my relevant responses.

Gender

In 2009, 70% of my readers said they were men. In ’10 in was 72% and in ’11 it was 69%. Now, it’s 80%. This number may be the most surprising to me of all because, it seems to me, women are more like 50% of the commenters (maybe more) and seem to be something like two-thirds of those who “like” posts. When I write, I think of myself as talking to a female audience, not a male one. Of course Belle, but in general, when I think of who’s reading my words, I think of a woman. I probably will continue to think that way, but in fact, 4/5 of you are dudes.

Two percent identified as something other than the binary choices usually presented. Maybe next time I should offer more options.

Age

Chastity and denial seems to be a more mature person’s game.

Under 18 0%
18-23 4%
24-35 23%
36-45 26%
46-55* 31%
56-65 12%
66-70 3%
Over 70 1%

This is the first time the 46-55 group came out as the highest represented. We’re definitely skewing towards an older audience over time here at Thumpermedia Worldwide.

Sexuality

Still a pretty straight audience, but moderating from previous surveys.

0 – Exclusively heterosexual 19%
1 – Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual 29%
2 – Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual 20%
3 – Equally heterosexual and homosexual* 13%
4 – Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual 8%
5 – Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual 5%
6 – Exclusively homosexual 7%

It’d be nice if there was a way to study true sexuality based on brain scans or whatever. I suspect this self-reported thing skews towards politics, religious upbringing, social pressure, etc.

Kinkiness

Older, more queer, and now relatively more kinky.

1 – Not kinky 0%
2 1%
3 3%
4 3%
5 8%
6 10%
7 23%
8 28%
9* 14%
10 – Kinkosaurous Rex 10%

Eight was still the most popular response, but more people scored themselves as nines and tens than in the past and we only had a single little one (which rounded down to zero percent). Hello there, poppet. Don’t be afraid!

Power play

I was about call these results “unsurprising” but I don’t know if they’re surprising or not.

Dominant 9%
Submissive* 53%
Switch 25%
Curious 9%
Something else 3%
Not kinky 1%

Not sure why more people identified as “not kinky” here than in the previous question. Also, I put “something else” in there but thought I had it pretty well covered with the choices offered.

Pain play

Interesting to me that in the same way there are more subs than doms and bottoms than tops (not just here but, it seems, everywhere) there are also more masochists than sadists.

A sadist 7%
A masochist 28%
A little of both* 23%
Curious about pain play 20%
Not into pain play 22%

Anal

New question this year! I was honestly shocked at how many people were into anal sex. Or, more precisely, how few said they weren’t into it.

Hell yes!* 56%
Feh, it’s OK 27%
Hell no! 4%
Maybe, I haven’t tried it 13%

What I realize now, though, is that the question is pretty broad. A guy who fantasizes about fucking his woman’s ass could say “Hell yes!” but might never think of taking a strap-on in return. I should have broken this out somehow to suss out bottoms versus tops. Also, I’m really interested to know how many otherwise straight men are getting fucked by their women.

Still, this is probably a sign of the times. Back in my day, anal was far more polarizing.

Chastity

The number of people who say they have been locked up or have locked up someone has gone from 52% positive in ’10 to 57% in ’11 to 75% today. Not sure what to make of that. Is it more popular? Have I become more specialized in my audience? Something else?

Anyway, quite the jump.

Chastity devices used

This was interesting. The CB-6000 comes out on top of most used devices if you combine the standard and short variants at 28%. But, if you break those out, the Mature Metal Jail Bird is the top most used device with 17%. The Queen’s Keep appears to be the second most popular MM device with 3%. The most popular Steelworxx device based on usage is the Steelheart at 6%. Any version of the Looker series comes in second with 5%. I would have thought SW would have scored better overall, but I suppose the German thing and their notoriously finicky customer service work against them. Interesting to see so many still rocking the old CB-2000s and 3000s.

When asked about all devices ever used, the CB-X series scores very high as they’re pretty much everyone’s “training wheels.” With regard to silicone, it seems like a lot of people have tried them, but many fewer use them as their main axe over time.

Use most often Have ever used
CB-2000 4% 7%
CB-3000 5% 12%
CB-5000 0% 1%*
CB-6000 12% 16%*
CB-6000s 16% 14%
The Curve 1% 4%
Holy Trainer 2% 1%
Holy Trainer (short) 2% 1%*
Other plastic device 2% 2%
Any silicone device 2% 6%*
MM Jail Bird 17% 7%*
MM Dungeon 0% 0%
MM Pet Trap 1% 0%
MM Queens Keep 3% 1%
MM Watchful Mistress 1% 0%
SW Looker 01/02/03 5% 2%*
SW Steelheart 6%* 4%*
SW Steelheart 2 1% 1%
SW Crossfire 1% 0%
Other Steelworxx 2% 1%
Any Steelwerks Extreme device 1% 0%
Any Lori’s device 2% 2%
Other steel trapped-ball device 7% 7%
Any full belt 1% 2%
Something else not listed 5% 8%

I would have expected the Holy Trainer to do better because I think it’s such a promising device, but it hasn’t been out that long I guess.

In retrospect, I should have asked how many total devices do you own. That would have been very interesting, I think. Note that I only included responses from those who use or have used a chastity device. Also, there were more than two and a half times more responses in the “have ever used” question than the “most used” question.

Orgasm denial duration

Another new question (and I did get both sides of this one). I only included responses from those who practice orgasm denial. “Denied” is the longest the respondent has gone without orgasm and “denier” is the longest they’ve made someone wait.

Denied Denier
A few days 8% 9%
About a week 5% 25%
About two weeks 15% 14%
About three weeks 8% 2%
About a month 14% 11%
More than a month but less than two 22% 11%
More than two months but less than three 9% 7%
More than three months but less than four 7% 9%
More than four months but less than five 2% 0%
More than five months but less than six 1% 0%
More than six months but less than a year* 5% 9%
More than a year 4% 2%

So two weeks and a month or a little more are the most popular answers from those who are denied but about a week is by far the most popular for those doing the dening. Don’t know what to make of that (or the opposite swing at more than a month). Interesting also that there’s a dip after more than three months but that it comes back at six months and a year.

Again, in retrospect, another thing I should have asked here is how the denial period is determined. Random chance or some other method? Is it always the same? Never the same? Also, is the date or duration disclosed ahead of time? Is that good or bad? A lot more digging could be done here.

Male genital piercings

I’ve always wanted to know how many guys have done this.

Yes, but it’s unrelated to chastity play 3%
Yes, and I/they got it at least partially for chastity play* 9%
No, but I/they have some other kind of male genital piercing 6%
Nope, no piercings down there 82%

Relatively few, it turns out. One respondent pointed out I left off as a choice “not yet but going to.”

Most simultaneous sex partners

Just because I wanted to know…

One 56%
Two* 25%
Three 9%
Four 5%
More than four (!?) 6%

I bet this looks very different based on age and sexuality.

Feedback

I left an open-ended box for people to say whatever they wanted at the end. Much encouragement and good feelings there and I appreciate them all, truly. Here’s some notable comments/questions out of the many that were submitted.

I love your work, it is a very nice read. Recently I have been forwarding a selection of your posts to my beloved key holder, who actually isn’t much of a read. However she enjoys reading you and I notice it is helping her to understand better some of the male psychology behind the chastity experience. And also her own through Belle’s. For instance on her feeling guilty for the denial on which you wrote some excellent blogs. Thank you for that! A Dutch fan (6 months into the journey)

Thanks for putting all the time and effort into writing and maintaining this! It really hit home, and gave me an insight into the practical world of male chastity/orgasm denial. Well, at least your personal experience with it. My fiancee and I are slowly moving towards something resembling what you two have, and I’m happy to say that we’re both loving it! So thank you very much for being an inspiration, answering questions before I knew I had them, and giving me topics to think about and talk with my fiancee about! Keep up the great work!

I show my fiancée the posts describing the accounts of sex. Every one since last December maybe. The way you write is very elegant. We both really love the dynamic you and Belle have, it is what I like most about orgasm denial. I don’t like to consider it chastity play since its not a game for us. The fact that it makes me a much better partner is the real benefit. The “Gay stuff” is a turn on as well. I just haven’t told her that. Keep doing exactly what you are doing on this blog.

Thanks so much for your blog. I learned a hell of a lot through your own accounts and it helped me define and explain to my wife what I wanted. I am from good old Europe but I did an exchange year at the Unversity of Minnesota’s Twin City campus in the 1990s. Therefore, I have a sweetspot for Minnesota and really like your mentions of Minnesota Nice, the cabin etc. Reminds me very much of a great year I had back then. I’ll let you know the next time I am around… 😉 Best wishes to you and your family!

I have followed your blog since I discovered it and have gone back and read from the beginning. Your blog has been a positive influence on our relationship.

What you write seems real instead of the fantasy blogs written by older men living alone in their basements. Accordingly, I consider your blog SFM ( safe for marriage ) and I encourage my wife to read your blog. It makes us feel more “normal” and we have learned a thing or two along the way. Thanks

Thank you for posting some insight on how the submissive male mind works. One of the most useful things I’ve taken from your blog was a post that mentioned something along the lines of “what a male submissive wants most is to know where he stands”. I’m really into the psychological aspect of D/s and denial, and this morsel has not only made things easier, but has opened new doors so to speak. Thanks again 🙂

While embarking on the path of chastity devices for hubby, your site was a great help with a lot of useful information from the perspective of someone actually living this way and it’s been great.

This is my go-to sex/erotica website. As a timidly dominant woman (sadism is hard with a guilt complex!), I get a serious rush out of the descriptions of both the everyday and the sexual power-play between you and Belle. And the love between you two comes through very clearly in all of your writing. I secretly enjoy the “evil dominant, insists-on-capital-pronouns woman” stuff out there, but the blogging here is genuine, sharp, and very well-written! And the relationship stuff is both reassuring and grounds this blog firmly in reality. Sweet, kinky reality. Belle seems lovely, both physically and personally! I wish you all the best.

Thank you Thumper, for sharing so many intimate details. You really helped me accept my husband’s fantasies especially the ones involving men. Seriously, your posts on the subject opened my mind, eyes and heart.

Our chance to say “Thank You!” Integrating chastity into our D/s marriage was a big step and your blog really helps us talk, explore more and not feel so weird.

Just started reading from the beginning a few weeks ago, and I’m somewhere in 2012… Thanks so much for your honest account of chastity and orgasm denial. It has spurred many conversations between my husband and I. We’ve played around with a cb3k on and off for a couple of years, but we’re now deciding which metal device to get for more frequent use. Your insights have been invaluable — especially for a not-naturally-dominant female whose husband has somewhat recently come to identify as submissive.

Your blog gave me the confidence to tell my man I want to lock and own him. We’re investigating it all now!

I love hearing that people share the blog with their partners on either side of the key. I especially like hearing that we come off as “normal” sounding and that’s proven helpful as the the idea of chastity has been shared with an unsuspecting partner. Very cool.

Just wanted to say thank you. I think I’ve been doing the chastity thing longer than you, but you and Belle do it better 😉 Keep up the good work, you kinky fuckers. You guys are an inspiration to those of us who struggle with trying to make the Domme/sub lifestyle work for us. Plus, you are a good writer and you tell your story in a readable, engaging style. I appreciate the fact you try and balance your lifestyle with your lives. Kids, work etc. etc. Thanks for doing what you do.

It’s nice seeing the sort of almost effortless dynamic you two have built. And I am occasionally envious of your toy chest. Heh!

You have been inspirational in our own journey. Glad to find we’re not the only ones who are like this.

Thank you. I’m just getting started and have devoured your information – it’s easily the most “real” and straightforward, most honest and complete. While it scares the crap out of me after reading it all (how in the world am I going to do this??) it’s exciting as hell too.

Been reading you for years now (I’m your one lesbian reader who’s never done any chastity play irl, still here hi!). Thank you for sharing your experiences in such an articulate, vulnerable, and sexy way. I’ve honestly learned more about men, relationships, and people from you than from perhaps any other stranger besides Dan Savage. I don’t always 100% agree with your opinions or understand, where you’re coming from, but your honestly invites me to reflect on my own blind spots in a surprisingly deep way. Plus it totally turns my crank to read about kinky real life sex and relationships. I always want to get inside other people’s heads and worlds and you provide that like no other. Thanks, and keep it up.

Odd to think that we’re an inspiration, but nice to hear!

Belle was popular in the comments…

Belle – you let Thumper out waaaaay too often. He doesn’t need it. Really.

You once wrote that Belle said you have evolved nicely. Obviously so has Belle and we (my wife especially) would love to hear more from her POV / perspective on the evolution of your relationship.

How does Belle feel about sex toys, before, during and after using.

Like to read more from Belle’s perspective. Keep up the good work!

I’d like so read some input from Belle, if possible, especially as she seems to be gaining in confidence through this journey.

Belle, I am impressed by your commitment to your relationship and your willingness to work with Thumper to come to a place that you can both enjoy. I hope that you are as satisfied with the situation as he seems to be.

I’d love to read more from Belle!

Belle, you need to teach more ladies in their 20’s to hold keys!

Thank you for the effort to create and continue the blog. More from Belle’s side about what she’s thinking. What she likes and doesn’t from her perspective. Or the occasional commentary on her motivation, response to your post.

First off, thanks for the wonderful blog. I really enjoy reading about how the chastity dynamic works within your relationship. I also enjoy reading how Belle has grown more confident in her role over time. I would like to ask a question of Belle if I may? Belle, when did you first recognize you were OK denying Thumper (that you did not feel weird/uncomfortable telling him “no”)? Would you feel comfortable telling us about that event?. Thanks 🙂

Belle must be one special woman.

Belle’s fairly comfortable in her behind-the-scenes role and doesn’t want to write, but I’m considering ways to get her perspective on the blog more often.

Extracurricular activities…

Anymore boyfriend talk for belle?

Looking forward to hearing more about the potential male partner(s) for Thumper or Belle.

We talk about Belle’s imaginary boyfriend all the time. And trust me, as soon as there’s something to report on either front, you’ll be hearing about it.

Would you find it arousing to wear your chastity device at a nudist resort?

From what I understand about places like that, they tend to discourage things as innocuous as piercings below the neck let alone chastity devices. While I’d really enjoy going naked (and even in the device), I’m just not sure how many places there are where such things are possible. My dream vacation currently is to go with Belle to somewhere warm and temperate, rent a house, and be naked the whole time. That would be really cool.

What made Thumper begin denying himself?

I never did! I’ve only ever been denied with Belle, never on my own.

How old are you both and how long have you been in to chastity?

Forty-six and since October 12, 2008 (or thereabouts).

This isn’t a criticism because when I am I into it and it is totally hot, but chastity, submission and orgasm [denial] can be a very self absorbed kink. If “FLR” is totally great for women, why don’t many women blog about, and when they do, it is pretty fleeting? I’d like to see more from a woman’s perspective only because I am fascinated about how men and women fit together on this stuff. I feel like it is like getting my wife to play video games. When we are relaxed, she will try it out and have fun with it. But she’ll never be obsessed with it like me.

Complicated question.

When it’s the guy who’s interested in directing their relationship in the direction of FLR, it’s imperative that he let her find her own value in the dynamic. Also, he has to understand that his fantasy version being the guysub in that dynamic will likely be very different than the reality. Using the video game analogy, you need to ask are you interested in playing video games in general with her or Madden specifically? If she doesn’t like Madden for whatever reason, then is it video games she’s rejecting or just that one? She needs to find her genre, so to speak. FPS, puzzle, MMO, multiplayer vs. campaign, racing vs. RPG, etc. If you think about it that way and let her find the game she likes and not view her rejection of specific titles as a failure, you’re doing it right.

Belle had to come to a place where she could fit what became our version of the FLR dynamic into her life and desires. Once we got there, things became really good. I had to let go of my expectations and Thumper-centric vision of how things should be and recognize there was this while other person involved.

WRT to their lack of blogging, I think that’s related to their level of passion on the topic. Blogging about one thing is hard and blogging about it for an extended period even more so if not really into the subject.

The Lancelot is interesting – I have one. Invisible, comfy, easy to clean. You can easily come with it on, but you cannot get erect or big. Order a bit on the shorter side…

I came thisclose to adding the Lancelot to the list. It’s a device in which I’m very interested. Too bad to hear you can come in it, though. That puts a damper on my enthusiasm for it.

Did you ever try wearing the urethral insert in the Steelheart? And if so, could you wear it with the PA ring and the fixing for security? I currently have a Steelheart and I was wondering about whether it’s worth getting the insert, but not if it’s going to be insecure. Also with the insert installed, did the tube stay cleaner? Did it make it harder to get a finger in and clean it out without removing the device?

Nope, never wore the Steelheart with the insert. You would need additional holes at the end of tube to make that work since there’s usually some urine that goes around the insert. It would end up being much less hygienic than either the Looker or the SH. And no, you wouldn’t be able to use a PA ring and the insert at the same time. I can’t imagine that would work.

The use of the word “snatch”. I don’t know why I hate that word so I cringe when I see it used. I know it’s silly, that’s just my two cents.

That’s one of the reasons I like it. It’s a very “nasty” word. Also, I need a few more ways to describe it when writing and I’ve never really liked the word “pussy” very much. It seems silly to me.

Where did the pain and bondage go? I haven’t read about a nut smack or handcuffs in a while.

It just doesn’t happen that often anymore. I’d love to be flogged or caned, to be sure, but I don’t think Belle gets much out of doing it and I haven’t pushed the issue. Regarding cuffs, I have some ideas about that I hope will happen in the near future.

I wonder if there is, as far as you know, a place where we can meet ( on the net that is) people who are into chastity as well? It would be nice to have some ‘online friends’ who are in the same dynamic?

I like this place.

Finally, you may have noticed I didn’t mention the “strangest/hottest/craziest place you’ve ever had sex” question. There were some really great answers in there for that and I’m saving them for another post.

Thanks to everyone who had a chance to participate!

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The third day of the rest of my life

Here I am on day three of my new period of denial, the duration of which is unclear except that Belle’s told me it will be “a long time…a long time.” For those keeping score, the last period was thirty-two weeks. From July 1 to February 9. Nearly two thirds of a year. That’s twenty-three thousand one-hundred sixty —

Oh, you get the idea.

It’s apparently universally true that men who are being denied love to keep score while women doing the denying don’t. Just look at blogs. The guy’s will often have a countdown or count up timer while the woman’s never does. Belle hates when I talk about days and months and such (which is why there isn’t one of those timer thingies here). She doesn’t like being measured like that. I wonder what it’s like when there are two guys in this kind of dynamic? Do they both get off on the record keeping? Either way, Belle was never much interested in how long it had been and she’s not apparently very interested in being pinned down going forward.

So yeah, day three. I’m hornier than I thought I would be. I was pretty much ready to go again Sunday night, truth be told, but it’s not the same type of horniness. It’s a more expectant and needy kind. I do not want the device on. All I want to do is come again. My submissive tendencies are at a minimum.

That’s one of the things some (many?) “true” submissives hate. When guys who are locked up and denied say, “Oh, it turns me into a submissive!” As if putting on a cheap souvenir headdress can make you an indian chief. I don’t think that denial makes me submissive, but I do think it helps surface my inner submissive tendencies. As if they’re tufa towers in the Mono Lake of my sexuality. The longer I go without coming the lower that lake of post-orgasmic brain chemicals drops revealing the interesting formations beneath. Give me one orgasm and bam! Lake levels rise and the towers get hidden and I start acting like a dumb guy again. One who doesn’t very much enjoy having a steel tube locked over his manhood.

Last night, Belle gave me a chance to service her in a way that a week ago I would have been happy to do. I had already made dinner for everyone, drove one kid around like a taxi driver, and was going to take the other kid on an errand prior to retrieving the first kid again. Then Belle gave me two more errands to perform while I was out. I may have rolled my eyes. This is what orgasm does. I felt like I had already done all these things and here she was piling on more. I mean, I did them of course. I’m not so far gone that I gave her any real trouble. But that feeling of being put out is rare for me now. Like I said, a week ago I would have been happy to do whatever she wanted and might even have felt a bit of a happy wave for having been given the chance.

There’s also a part of me thinking this orgasm stuff wasn’t the end of the world after all so why not try having them like once a month or something. Wouldn’t that be nice? Maybe every couple of weeks or so would be good. And then I’m like, Who the fuck is this talking in my head? No matter how you feel about denial, the brain is totally wired to be addicted to orgasm. Not addicted in a bad way. It can be destructive, of course, but even in me the lizard is lobbying. Right now, this second, I want to come. This is not normal for me. I usually only want to come when Belle lets me fuck her. But currently, the idea of nipping off to the bathroom and pulling one out in a stall is very appealing. In fact, the idea is kind of gnawing at me. This is why I need to be locked up. I don’t know that I’d go so far as to actually come, but I might, and even so, I’d never have gotten off to work this morning what with all the masturbation I’d have been doing.

Just so we’re clear, all I’m doing here is talking out loud and making observations about my feelings. I’m not advocating for any changes in my dynamic with Belle. There is absolutely no topping from below happening here so you can stop formulating a comment regarding such. I’m merely enjoying this rare opportunity to pick at myself in this state.

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Sunday of Sex, part two

As I was saying, Kid #1 was absent Sunday morning and Kid #2 was soon to be. I’m not sure either one of us contemplated the ramifications of this beforehand, but we suddenly found ourselves with five hours of pure alone time. We had discussed going to the gym or something else productive. Instead, we spent most of the time naked.

Once Kid #2 walked out the door, we looked at each other and one of us asked the other, “Well, what are we going to do?”

“We could go have sex,” I helpfully pointed out.

“Yeah, we could do that.” Color me happily surprised. Belle had already had her orgasm for the day and since she’s the kind of girl who usually only wants them one at a time I had no idea what this sex party was going to entail, but I wasn’t about to ask any questions until we were both naked and wrapped up in one another.

It was crazy. Naked fun time in the middle of the day with the bedroom door open and the curtains up. This is how I imagine porn stars live, not 40-something married couples with kids still in school. Did I mention it was broad daylight outside?

I was on her quickly. Still feeling revved up from earlier in the day, it didn’t take much to find me pushing my way inside her. She felt more normal. The lingering effects of Maverick’s earlier intrusions had worked themselves out.

“You want to go again?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m game,” she said (or something very much like it).

“How you want to do it? You want Blue?” I was already fucking her, but that was just me being presumptuous.

“No, let’s do your fingers this time.”

Fine by me. I assumed the position and, while pressing the wet and hard penis between us, I sucked eagerly on her tits and fingered her pussy.

“I feel like you’re having to work too hard,” she remarked at one point.

“God no,” I replied, “I just fucking love your pussy.”

Of course, I’ve always loved pussy, but I’m totally fixated by it now since her’s is the only way I get to feel any pleasure from the penis anymore. Masturbation is forbidden, even touching is frowned upon. Regardless, it’s locked up essentially all the time. So I do enjoy my pussytime, even when it’s only to play with it and not penetrate it.

Eventually, she came for the second time that day (knocking off ninety-one and ninety, respectively). She came loudly. No reason to keep it in. Her exclamations caused me to make my own sympathetic moans as her body convulsed under my fingers and through my arms. It was a great orgasm. For both of us.

After allowing for a few moments of basking, I climbed back on top of her and placed the head of the penis where it needed to be for easy access. I was definitely being pushier than usual which, looking back, might have been some kind of clue. She never said I could enter her but I took her lack of complaint and how she shifted herself beneath me as wordless acquiescence. I shoved the penis home.

I never got close to coming in the morning, but this was different. It didn’t take any time at all until I found myself right there. And not just physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually, I wanted to come in her. I held the back of her neck in my right hand and gripped her thigh with my left hand in a way that asserted a sexual dominance I by rights didn’t have, but the lizard part of me was in charge. After having to slow myself and disrupt my rhythm once again to avoid coming, I actually found myself toying with the idea of having an “accident.” How could she know for sure that it wasn’t?

Yeah, right, the bunny said from the sidelines while rolling his eyes. And he was right. There’s no way I have an accidental orgasm when I’m the one driving. No way.

So then I thought about begging. But I didn’t want to screw with Belle. I didn’t want to make it sound like I was trying to guilt her out or anything. The lizard, though. He’s crafty.

“What if I begged?” I asked. “What would you do if I begged for an orgasm?”

“I’d say no,” replied Belle. Fuck.

“Please,” I begged anyway. “Please, can I come?” I wanted it. Truly. I did. Holding her like that and fucking her, feeling our bodies moving against each other. I was so close. 

And I’ll say right now, either answer would have been good. But I would have regretted hearing no more than yes.

“Spill it,” she said. YES.

No hesitance. No delay. No stopping to consider. Just THRUST, THRUST, THR—

And it happened. I was over the falls and past the point of no return. I wasn’t thinking. Couldn’t think. I just came.

At first, it felt like every muscle in my body tensed and flexed with the mission to squeeze itself out through the penis. I couldn’t breath. Everything stopped. I think my heart even stopped beating. Nothing existed except that feeling. The feeling of a fucking supernova detonating in my balls. Then I felt a rushing wave of pin-pricks hit the back of my skull, cresting from the bottom and heading up over my scalp. And pressure. Like a clamp on my head. I felt my brain release the orgasmic cocktail it hadn’t tasted in seven and a half months. I think I made a lot of noise and I don’t think I could have done a thing about it even if I wanted to. I went from pure orgasmic bliss to a moment of laughter to wanting to cry all in about 360 milliseconds. And there was a tiny flicker of regret. But only a tiny one and it was over as soon as it started.

Quite simply, the greatest orgasm of my entire life.

The volume was enormous. Besides not having had one since July 1 of last year, I was all worked up from the multiple sex sessions. I couldn’t count the number of times I shot into her but it had to be six or eight. Even after I was empty, the penis kept flexing and trying to milk every little bit of it out of me.

Then, I was exhausted. And I realized my arms were hurting from holding me up. And I felt a pain in my side. All the masking of those things that the pre-orgasmic cocktail does to fool you into thinking you’re Superman were emptied out with the ejaculate. Then I did something I can’t even remember doing, it was so long ago last time I did it. I fell asleep in that hazy, post-orgasmic fog. I realized Belle was talking so I woke back up. So sleepy. So spent.

Belle said afterward that the only reason she let me come was because she found my begging for it so hot. That one time, she heard how desperate I was and the idea of having put me there turned her on sufficiently to allow me to come.

After, we spent an hour or so in the bathtub together. We haven’t done that in a really long time. When our relationship first started, Belle lived in an old house with a giant claw-footed tub and we’d lounge around in it after sex with candles burning and k. d. lang playing in the other room. And now we were doing the same thing except the tub was a big whirlpool type and the CD was replaced by iPhone Spotify and a Bluetooth speaker. But otherwise, it felt the same. I thought about the book I’m reading and its premise that we have stages of neurochemical response to our partners and how that changes over time and that I felt, even though we had just had sex after 16 years or so of marriage, exactly like after the first time we had sex. We discussed a remodeling project. I was nesting with her.

It was very hard dragging myself to the gym. All I wanted to do was lay around in my sweats and sloth in front of the TV. Earlier, I had been very keen on getting in there and running. Now the inertia almost scuttled the operation. But I did manage to drag my ass over there and I ran four miles with nothing but the PA ring to keep the penis company.

Belle was concerned for my well-being. She asked me several times (and again the next morning) how I felt. Post-orgasmic aftercare for the chronically denied. In fact, I felt and still feel great. Everything seemed like it was wrapped in a few inches of cotton batting for a while but I woke up this morning (back in the Steelheart, ‘natch) and the feeling was still there. Changed a bit from having come. A little more urgent, perhaps. But not like how it feels after two orgasms. Not that kind of total wipeout.

In fact, right now, I’d very much like to get into her pants.

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Sunday of Sex, part one

I woke up before Belle Sunday morning which is fairly typical. I layed there, snuggled into her warmth with my arms and legs wrapped around her, Steelheart packed tight, sex simmering inside me. That’s a tricky time for me because I know she’s more willing to fuck me on weekend mornings so all my Spidey senses are tingling and I’m anxious for her to wake up but I don’t want to be the cause of making that happen.

I rolled away and looked at my phone. Mostly smut which made the device go from comfortably packed to almost painfully so and Belle rolled over and put her hand on my chest, still dozing. Fuck if I didn’t almost combust at the touch. That’s all it takes, of course. Simple touches. Little touches. And I get all dopey.

Eventually she woke up. I moved into her. Her hand absently found my balls. She brushed her fingertips over the only part of my genitals that could feel pleasure. More little touches. I got up on my hands and knees over her and kissed her face. She continued to tickle my balls, now pulled tight by the achingly hard meat inside the steel tube.

I asked her what she wanted that morning. How could I make her come? What was her pleasure to be? After some time making me almost debilitated from the raging hard-on stuffed through the Steelheart’s tight ring, she decided this morning would be the debut of Maverick. I hobbled out of bed to get the harness and big dildo together and she pulled off all her bedclothes.

Even though it means I’ll be getting even less of a thrill than usual, I do find that the sensation of pulling the harness on, up and over my ass, straps on both sides of the device, through my legs and up my crack, to be terrifically erotic. I fucking love straps and buckles and everything to do with them. The Maverick was a tight fit through the harness’ O-ring, but once through it stuck out from me in a way no cock ever has and hung heavily against the steel chastity device.

I climbed back into bed and latched onto Belle’s nipple with my mouth. My hand was in her snatch and felt her heat and wetness. She luxuriated in my petting of her for a long time. I ran my fingers through her pussy, over her other nipple, and back again. After a bit, taking her time, she put her own fingers down there. Hers and mine mixed in her wetness and over her folds.

After a bit of this, she made a move to climb up on top of me and down onto the Maverick. I had placed some lube on it beforehand, but the Vixskin material and her dripping wetness were such that it was likely unnecessary. I left my hand down there so I could feel the fat black cock as it slid into her. Open her. Based on her expression, it was an intense sensation, but she soon warmed to its heft and her pace quickened. Once I figured she was ready, I started to fuck back. I reached around and pressed on the small of her back with my palm. She humped it even faster, eyes closed, mouth shaped like an O. Her orgasm seemed to last as long as the dildo inside her.

She layed on top of me and basked. The penis started to flex and surge, almost of its own accord. I felt nothing but tight steel push back. Not soft and warm pussy. Not what the Maverick would have been feeling had it been living meat and not man-made.

She rolled off and the Maverick slapped back to hit my stomach. I gripped it like a real cock and stroked it using the remaining wetness of her pussy. So big. It felt warm and alive, but there was no sensation for me except frustration.

“God, I wish I could fuck you right now.” It’s how I felt so I said it, but I wasn’t asking. Leaving me locked up would have been almost as good as letting me out, but for different reasons. Somewhat to my surprise, she got up to get the key.

Once out, I immediately climbed on top of her. The penis slid in effortlessly. I groaned, “This is how I love to feel you.”

“Really? I can barely feel you,” she said innocently. But the comment struck me. It was exactly what the bunny wanted to hear and exactly not what the lizard wanted. “Seriously, it’s like the penis isn’t even there.”

Moar groaning.

I fucked her with practically no friction. The fat dildo had taken that from me before I got there. Taken her. And that’s what I loved feeling. Second. Smaller. As if she was only doing me a favor after being pleasured by something closer to the size she prefers. I do not pretend to understand how all my kinks work, this one in particular. It’s outside the sensibility of most and what made me so hard and almost drunk on passion would make other men shrivel up and assume the fetal position. I’m not saying there isn’t pain in knowing what really gets her off is something so much bigger than what I have. But in the same way I love the sting of the strap across my ass or of the ache of her fist punching my nuts, the searing comprehension that I am and always will be less than she really wants fires both pleasure and pain circuits.

More than that, I crave to hear her twist the knife. To remind me why we need Blue and the Maverick. To say it’s like I’m not even fucking her once they’re done making her come.

Which of these things is not like the others?On the practical side, Belle said the Maverick felt smaller than Blue. As you can see, they’re very close to the same size, though Maverick’s head is more pronounced with a dramatic flare Blue lacks. It’s possible Blue, in use, is fatter, but since I’ve never measured it with the hard penis in place, I don’t know. She also prefers Blue’s veiny texture over Maverick’s smoothness. Almost too smooth, she says. The little dildo they’re with is Vixen’s Tex. That was the one we got when we first started to experiment with strap-on sex years ago and it was picked because it was almost exactly the same size as the penis when hard. The penis’ head isn’t quite as impressive, though. In any event, it’s a striking visual demonstration as to why she could barely feel me inside her. It’s also interesting to note that Belle didn’t much like using dildos back when we were using one specifically chosen as the closest to me.

I don’t know how long I fucked her, but she was very indulgent. I never got very close to coming and didn’t even leak. Not enough friction, I suppose, though it was painful being told I needed to stop. She told me I could stay out of the Steelheart a little while, so I was free as we went out for brunch with Kid #2. Kid #1 was at an all-day school event and Kid #2 was going to go shopping with a friend around noon, so we had to get moving.

All in all, I would have chalked Sunday morning’s encounter up as quite lovely and pleasurable. Little did I know we weren’t done yet. Not by half.

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That little Cupid prick, Part 2

Might as well blog the book as I go along…

I’m now at Chapter 4 which, I’m told, is the start of the “relevant scientific research” part of the book. Also, the entire rest of the book is apparently all about “relevant scientific research.” This makes me happy.

I’ve discovered the best way not to be annoyed by the spiritual wawa stuff is just ignore it. Between every chapter has been a subchapter dedicated entirely to “Wisdom of the ages” where she explores various religious aspects of sex without orgasm. I just skip them entirely. Since one the basic purposes of religion, IMO,  is to explain things that are otherwise unexplainable, these sections aren’t that interesting to me. Again, I’m not saying there is no value in reading what ancient people thought about this stuff, but I don’t care to read it any more than I’d care to read what the Catholic church was teaching in the 14th Century about astronomy.

The other thing I’d really ding her on is her overuse of anecdote. The book is filled with these little stories about people whose lives were all kittywampus but, following their abstinence from orgasm, suddenly found nirvana. She oversells the positive impact of denial. I know it can be a force for good in a relationship, but it’s not magic and it won’t do your dishes for you. For example, this is from her husband and co-author from, I believe, his journal:

I’ve seen big changes in other aspects of my life, too. My finances are sorting themselves out, and my professional life is expanding in directions I’d always wanted it to—but was unable to take it before. The opportunities continue to flow to me effortlessly and work out great. I have a lot more confidence in myself. I’m calm and focused. And I’m now comfortable with being in a partnership instead of seeing myself as a separate entity who happens to be involved with someone at the same time. I’m much more optimistic about relationships.

The part about being in a partnership as opposed to seeing yourself as a separate entity and the development of general optimism about your relationship? Yes. Fucking hell, yes. Of course, no matter what we do, I will always be a separate entity, but my relationship with Belle feels more like a partnership now than ever and I’m happier being in the relationship with her than I ever have been (excepting, perhaps, at its very beginning — which fits into the book’s premise perfectly).

But. Finances sorting themselves out? Professional life expanding? Confidence? All because you’re not coming anymore? As a guy who doesn’t come anymore, I’m not sure how those things are connected. Also, calm and focus is not something I get from denial. There’s a zen to it, but I wouldn’t go so far to say it makes me calm and focused.

That being said, I do get their enthusiasm for denial (I’m not calling it Karezza because we don’t do that). I have often felt genuinely so enthusiastic myself that I’ve wondered, “Why doesn’t everyone do this?” It’s the best fucking thing. And, truth be told, I do think a whole lot of relationships would be benefited by denial. However, I don’t think I’d ever be so presumptuous as to tell people if they only stopped coming they’d win the PowerBall and their teeth will get whiter. Because, as the author points out, we are wired to crave orgasm. Saying we should ignore those cravings for a pot of gold on the other side of the denial rainbow is a hard sell. It just feels wrong. Also, I’m firmly of the opinion that the changes to brain chemistry brought on by extended orgasm denial create feelings of enthusiasm for the practice not unlike those the religious faithful feel when espousing their beliefs.

An example of that (and the over-reliance of anecdote) can be found in this extended passage. Forget for a second we’re talking about sexual practices and instead are talking about Scientology while you read it.

A friend brought an appealing young man to a party at my home. Lars was a gifted graphic designer, sensitive, sincere, courteous, and somewhat shy. He was accompanied by a polite, and much older, woman. I didn’t realize they were lovers.

A few weeks later the friend who had brought them both to my house showed up again. He was shattered; Lars was dead.

Apparently Lars had only been with the woman a few months. And during that time he’d experienced periods of utterly uncharacteristic, violent behavior. For example, he got into fights in bars and had even been threatened with arrest. My friend, who had known Lars’s whole family for years, also talked with his lover after Lars’s death. She told him Lars had become sexually aggressive. The night of his death the woman had refused to participate. She went into another room to lie down. He came in later, sat on top of her, and demanded that she make love. She said no. He pulled a gun from behind his back and shot himself in the head.

Now, it’s possible that there was no link whatsoever between his emotional-behavioral deterioration and his sex life. It was clear to me, though, that some sort of severe imbalance certainly corresponded with the period of their intimacy. Deeply affected by this tragedy, I made a solemn promise never to use my seductiveness to put a lover at risk. I was also committed to discussing the careful management of sexual energy with anyone who showed the least curiosity.

Get that? Orgasm might leads to violent, suicidal behavior. The implications are clear. Save a life: Stop coming. Also, apparently, don’t be sexy. Have you heard the Good News?

While I fear I may be coming off as overly harsh, I still do have high hopes the promise of sciency stuff will redeem the book for me. I’m still not even a quarter of the way through.

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That little Cupid prick

So I’m reading Cupid’s Poisoned Arrow: From Habit to Harmony in Sexual Relationships. At least, I’m trying to read it.

I picked it up (if we can call the act of downloading a book onto a Kindle app on an iPad “picking up”) because I saw a reference to an article in an old post over on Schnoff’s blog but the link’s dead now so I just went ahead and got the book.

The description on Amazon looked promising enough:

Zing! Cupid’s arrow skewers a primitive part of the brain. Obediently, we fall in love amid showers of passionate fireworks, bond for a time … and then often get fed up with each other and grow irritable or numb. Perhaps we try to remodel our mate, seek solace online, or pursue a new love interest. Ancient sages recognized this biological snare and hinted at a way to dodge it: use lovemaking to balance one another and harmony arises naturally.

With an entertaining blend of personal experiences, the latest neuroscience, and forgotten insights from around the globe, Cupid’s Poisoned Arrow confronts current assumptions about sex and love and offers a refreshing, practical approach to sexuality.

Well, promising except for the “Zing!’ part. Also, it’s super well reviewed (4.5 stars with 35 reviews). Then it says things like, “We humans are unique among mammals in that we have the capacity to comprehend our subconscious mating programming and choose to manage it consciously,” and I’m, like, yes. 

The basic premise of the book is that sex with orgasm is really about procreation and how we’re wired to really enjoy orgasm (for the few seconds we do) is genetic and evolutionary trickery to make us engage in orgasmic sex more often. But, we’re predisposed to find the mate we’re with less interesting over time, thanks to the drive to spread our seed as far as possible. If we want to maintain the feelings of intense affection and bonding we experience at the start of a relationship, we should not let the brain feel the hit of orgasm since that releases chemicals that eventually work to defeat the part of falling in love we like.

The neurochemical payoff at the moment of orgasm feels like it promotes bonding. Yet such bonds are more fragile than we like to admit. At climax, a neurochemical blast triggers further events for approximately two weeks. These fluctuations deep in the brain drive us toward sexual satiety and subtle changes in mood, which often create emotional friction between lovers (Cupid’s poison). Uneasiness also leaves us vulnerable to promises of quick relief—another potential mate (real or virtual) being one of the most alluring. Thus orgasm turns out to be related to making more babies and making them with more than one partner.

I can get behind this train of thought.

Thing is, as far along as I am with it, there’s just too much spiritual hoo-haw for my taste. This is, essentially, a book on Karezza with some Eastern mysticism mixed in. I’d rather read more about the brain chemistry and less about the ancient “insights from around the globe.” But that’s just the rational atheist in me talking. It’s not that I don’t find the ancient insights interesting. I do, inasmuch as it shows that people had observed the beneficial impact of avoiding orgasm during sex, even thousands of years ago.

The good part of reading it for me, so far, is that it validates so many of the things I’ve observed and experienced personally. For example, the author mentions several times the two week cycle I’ve seen in myself that follows a couple of good orgasms. It’s actually kinda nice to know that I’m not a total freak and even prehistoric Indian shamen had already figured out that not coming during sex was a good thing.

The book, being about Karezza, advocates abstinence from orgasm for both partners, not just the men. This isn’t something I’m asking Belle to do nor am I seriously considering asking her since I really, really like her orgasms and life seems to be pretty fucking good right now with her having them and me not. In fact, I’d say the author thinks orgasms are the root cause of too much that’s wrong with relationships. I get that there’s chemistry involved and orgasm and sex don’t need to necessarily follow and things can be really awesome if they’re disconnected, but she actually comes out and says at one point that if everyone practiced Karezza the net result could be world peace. No, really.

Here’s a passage where she’s realizing that maybe she needed to stop having orgasms, too, and is pondering the consequences of them:

What if some sort of perception shift resulting from orgasm also left us with feelings of lack? How might sexual hangovers manifest in women’s experience? How about all-around bitchiness? Making him wrong about everything? Reaching for antidepressants? Avoiding sex? Overeating? Excessive fondness for one’s vibrator? Feeling unable to cope? Insane jealousy? Fortune hunting? Romance novel addictions? Compulsive shopping, or even kleptomania? Tears and emotional blackmail? Neurotic, needy, controlling mothers—and wounded kids?

Again, I’m not all the way through and am hoping there’ll be more science in the book and am therefore withholding final judgement, but after reading that, I thought, “FUCK, maybe you’re just neurotic.”

Anyway, I’m not not recommending the book. I’m just not sure if I’m recommending it. As I said, jury’s out. I’ll keep reading…

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Dishwasher domination

Following this weekend’s activities, I’m left wondering if Belle’s warning of impending orgasm has passed. I know, I could just ask her, but let’s not kid ourselves. By writing these words, I am, in a way, asking her. I don’t want to pressure her, though, and she’s not always happy when I’m asking her about her future plans. This is just passive-aggressive enough, thank you very much.

Absent any other ideas of her intentions, I assume Sunday’s after-nap funfest was exactly what she was looking for (she even texted me Monday morning praising it again) and, since she was able to get it even without having me come, I think of it as an overall success. The best part was, I did want to come in her. A lot. Totally would have had she just said the word. But now, after the fact, I’m glad she didn’t.

Over on the Twitter, poor said something that got me thinking.

I wonder, if Belle wasn’t part of my life and I had no partner, would I still be into denial? I don’t think so. I really like jacking off and, believe it or not, I really like coming. I might still like the idea of chastity because I’ve always had a nascent kink involving penis bondage and constriction, but I doubt I’d deny myself for more than an extended edging session.

And that train of thought makes me realize that, for me, denial is all about my relationship. I want to be denied because of how it makes me feel about Belle. Not because I hate orgasms. I don’t. But I do love my wife and I know denial makes me a better mate. But it’s not alchemy. That is, it doesn’t create commitment out of thin air or transmute resentment into adoration. It nurtures a seed. It’s more like an amplifier that way.

For example. This morning, I was getting ready for the gym and noticed as I was putting my breakfast dishes in the sink that the dishwasher was full of clean dishes. I had time, so I started to unload it. This sounds pretty mundane, but there was a time when I wouldn’t have thought to do it. It just wouldn’t have occurred to me. Now, it does. Not only that, but as I was putting the plates in the cupboard, I thought how pleased Belle would be to find the dishes put up and the sink clean and I actually started to pop a boner. I mean, seriously. I chubbed out (as best the L02 would let it) just by thinking about how I was doing something Belle would find satisfaction with. Then I made the bed. Then I went to the gym.

It doesn’t really matter that a good spouse and partner should be doing those things anyway. What matters is, because I’m so much more in tune with what makes her happy and so much more invested in that happiness, we both feel good about it. It’s a way to make mundane tasks a lot more interesting.

When I got back from the gym, Belle told me how pleased she was with me. So much so that tonight I could choose how I’d get to make her come. (Decisions, decisions.) All that because of the dishwasher.

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Stong-armed

We took a Sunday afternoon nap. That means, Belle slept and I kinda dozed and eventually woke up and looked at my phone until she was done snoozing.

“Is the door locked?” she asked sleepily.

I nodded. She kissed me on the mouth.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked. I was told to be ready to come out of the device but she had left me in. I had no idea what she wanted, though I figured it would likely be a quickie fingered orgasm.

“I’m letting you out.”

All right, Thumper. Game on.

She handed me the key and I pulled the covers down. I was already naked so I stuck the key in the little brass lock and turned it. The lock slid from its chamber freeing the cage from its cockring mate. Setting the lock and key aside, I pulled the cage off and felt the bulb end of the Looker 02’s urethral insert slither its way down the inside of the shaft it had secured for a week. It caught briefly in the head of the penis and then popped out. Then I pushed the thickening meat back through the ring and winced as the testicles popped through, right first then left. I was free. The steel was on the nightstand.

When I rolled back over towards her, she was naked. The penis was hard and, as I wrapped my arms around her, it brushed against her thigh. The feeling of it caused me to gasp slightly. From no sensation to the best sensation in under 30 seconds.

“How can I serve you, Belle Fille?”

“I want you.”

“Do I get to come?” The $64,000 question. I was ready for whatever she said.

“…No,” she replied evenly.

Instinct took over. I climbed between her legs and pushed the end of the aching meat against the lips of her pussy. She was dry, but I pushed in. I wanted in. She felt tight. Lack of natural lube and at least two weeks since anything had been in her. I shifted my hips to gain further penetration. I was gambling that she wanted it a little rough. A little guy-centric. A moment later, the penis found her hot and wet. She sighed.

“I have no idea why I did that,” I said.

“It feels good,” she purred, “Really good.”

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes…”

I pulled the hard shaft out and pushed it back in, spreading her gathering wetness around. I bent my head down and started to suck on her nipple while I fucked her slowly. I shifted again and pushed in as deep as I could, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and placing the other hand in the small of her back. I wrapped her in my strength and exerted just enough pressure for her to feel that I was holding her tight and she couldn’t get out. Not that she wanted to.

I thought fucking slow would let me last longer and I felt I was doing a pretty good job being as leisurely as possible. Her snatch was hot and totally wet now. Her breathing was starting to get more shallow.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered.

That was it. I can go for a long time and trick the orgasm that wants out into holding its own, but once I hear her start to really get into it, I lose my cool. Two or three slow thrusts later, I had to stop. I could feel the ejaculate locked and loaded. She wanted me to keep going, though, and wiggled her hips. That was enough to trigger a long jet to shoot out of me and into her. I had to pull out to keep it from going any further. She had said, no orgasm.

Now that I had her going, I didn’t want her to lose momentum. I quickly worked my way down to her pussy and dove in. Immediately, my mouth was full of my own seed. I swallowed it down and worked my tongue over her clit, lapping more of myself than seemed possible as it continued to leak from her. My throat was thick with it and its scent mixed with hers to fill my senses. My hands worked their way up to her breasts and tweaked her nipples as I eagerly ate her out. I wondered if this is what it would be like on those night she had her boyfriend over. Would she let me off the floor long enough to clean his semen from her before they slept in the warm bed and I on the hard floor? Would he watch or already have fallen asleep in his post-orgasmic stupor?

Belle’s hips started to buck. She was moaning and pushing against my forehead with the palm of her hand as the intensity of her orgasm crested but I pushed back harder keeping my tongue working over her electrified clit. Her legs crushed my skull and she pulled a fistful of my hair while her ass was off the bed. If she wanted to be taken hard, I was going to make her fucking well feel this orgasm.

Once it was over, I rested my face against her inner thigh and kissed at her taut tendons as she came down a little. The mixture of scents was intoxicating to me. I almost felt dizzy from all the pheromones attacking my brain. I climbed back up her body so that I was between her legs again. She took the penis in her hand and guided it into her.

Jesus fuck, was she hot and slick. Her juices, my semen and spit, and the full ripeness of her post-orgasmic pussy all mixed together and I started to fuck her. Hard. I could still smell us both in the smeared fluids that covered half my face and it drove me mad. It wasn’t long before I could feel the building orgasm and I. Wanted. It.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Ugh. Wimper.

I stuttered and stopped just long enough for it to climb back up inside me and then I had my hard, strong arms back around her, holding her tight and close. I buried my face in her neck and clung tightly to her and fucked her harder than I had in a long, long time. The lizard was off his leash and going to town. This was just fucking. Just me having my way with her. Doing her. Nothing gentle or submissive about it. I felt another orgasm winding up. A big one. The one I wanted. The lizard said DO IT but the bunny fought back. Each thrust into her caused her to exhale a little. There was no tenderness in what I was doing to her. No room for that. Just lust and desire and burning intensity.

“Come on!” I said to myself under my breath as I slammed into her. Not sure to who I said it or what it meant, but there was a stand-off inside me. Would I? Or not?

Of course not. In the end, I tensed up and then just knew. It wasn’t happening. It was like the lizard’s back was broken. Again. He slinked off and I shuddered and collapsed onto Belle.

“OK, Thumper, that’s enough.”

I panted. Gasped. Gathered myself.

“Is it what you wanted?” I asked quietly.

“Yes.”

—

We laid in bed a long time after. I felt both the feelings of sleepy post-orgasm and the raw edge of continued desire for her. I wanted her to throw me over onto my back, crawl on top of me, and fuck me until I came. I told her.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, really, I do.”

After a bit, I said, “OK, just between you and me, you can admit it now. You wish the penis was bigger, don’t you?”

She laughed. “No!”

“Yes you do. I know you do.”

She laughed some more. “Well…just a little.”

“OH! So it’s true! Now all I need to get you to do is admit that while we’re having sex.”

We both laughed.

Before I got out of bed, the Looker went back on. The fat bulb on the end of the insert pushed past the opening of the penis (helped along by the slick presence of ejacualte and pussy juice). The penis fought back and tried to grow, but that just made it all the tighter when the lock found its home and the key came out.

She held out her hand and I put the key in it. Belle got exactly what she wanted. I hope she always does.

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Fair warning

Belle warned me yesterday before knocking out ninety-four (I think we should also count those she gets when I’m not around, so it would have been ninety-five not counting her solo action last weekend) that she was close to wanting to really be with me. Nothing in between. Which means, she’s close to making me to come.

She didn’t want me to freak out and I tried not to, but it does kinda freak me out. After she came, we talked a little and I told her I was afraid to come (honestly, I’m scared of them now) and it made me nervous to think about how it would make me feel, but I was totally on board with her being in control of our sex and my orgasm and if that’s what she wanted, then that’s what she wanted. I said that I’m her submissive and sometimes that means taking me outside my comfort zone. It’s entirely within her rights to do so.

She then joked that maybe she really did need to get that boyfriend after all. To help scratch her naked guy-on-girl both coming and having “normal” hot sex itch. She’s joked about this more than once, so maybe it’s not a joke so much, but I still doubt she’d do it. Regardless, were I in a different place and a couple of decades younger, I’m not sure that’s isn’t the kind of relationship I would be right for.

In any event, we’ll see. Once the fruit was dangled in front of me, there were several moments when my fingers were two knuckles deep in her that I wanted out the Looker and into her snatch but she wouldn’t let me. No way. But then things cooled down and I fell asleep on my stomach with the steel pressing into me and everything felt right.

But like I said, it’s Belle’s world. I’m just living in it.