Not the Usual Anniversary Present – 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Week 14: I became somewhat resigned to our arrangement.

The rest of the week passed by without comment. She got her nightly back rub, and I was still horny most of the time, and it was well into our third month since my “birthday present”, or “our arrangement” as she sometimes called it. Since her day off came at different times in the week, I might go anywhere from five to nine days. Over a month ago she had stopped unlocking me for night sessions, saying that she preferred to have me inside her when she was awake and rested. Her next day off finally arrived, and I was looking forward to some good, long fucking. I was so excited that I figured I’d be able to come twice. She handed me the key and I hopped into the shower. She kissed me and told me not to take too long, as she was going to have a little surprise for me. The soap lather helped to ease the cage off, and I quickly finished shaving, dried off, and stepped back into the bedroom.

My wife was laying there in a black outfit, holding a pair of leather handcuffs. “Come on down,” she teased, “I have a little surprise for you.”

Although she has talked about handcuffing me during lovemaking, she hasn’t actually done it since we were dating. I lied down on the bed, and she climbed on top of me, kissing me deeply. “You’ve been such a good boy that I thought that I’d give you a little treat.” She had me roll over and fastened the cuffs securely behind my back. Rolling me onto my back again, she took my cock into her mouth. “Mmm… big, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t answer, I was too busy enjoying myself. For over three months I had pleasured her in every way imaginable, and my reward was to be kept locked up. Now it looked as if I was going to get some attention for a change. She swung her legs around and settled onto me in a sixty-nine position. I hungrily lapped at her sweet, salty juices, relishing the feel of her soft thighs around my head. She ground her hips down onto my face, almost smothering me, as she came.

“No, don’t stop,” she whispered, and pausing only to take a breath I went back to softly flicking my tongue over her swollen lips. This was one of those nine day periods, and she had rubbed it in by having me give her extended massages almost every night, and a few nights she made me follow up by licking her to a nice, slow orgasm. Not surprisingly, I was ready to come almost immediately. Her own tongue was licking the head of my cock, and I fought hard to keep myself under control. I concentrated on making her come before I could, since without the use of my hands, I was unable to push her away.

She was making herself excited by sucking hard on my cock, drawing all the blood to the already swollen head. My cock soon felt as hard as a steel rod. Thankfully, she paused to let out a moan. Her head dropped to rest on my leg, but her hand tightened around my sore balls as she came loudly. I stopped licking directly on her lips, and kissed and caressed her upper thighs with my own lips and tongue. She lay there for a few moments before getting up.

“Very nice,” she complimented me, “we never do it that way anymore.”

She swung her leg over my hips and teased my cock with her pussy. I was already gasping from holding back my own climax, and didn’t know if I wanted to push it in or wait. Sensing my distress she smiled “Poor honey. You want to come so bad, don’t you?”

Eyes closed in concentration, I could only nod.

“You’re trying so hard to hold back, maybe I shouldn’t let you come at all. Is that what you want?”

My eyes snapped open. “No! No, I want to come, really,” I managed to croak out, “ I just want it to last a little longer. It’s been so long, and I want it to feel good.”

“Hmm, so it doesn’t feel good other times?” she asked in mock hurt.

“No! Yes! Um, it always feels good… Oooooohhhhhhh…” I moaned as she slowly lowered herself onto my hot shaft.

“Isn’t this good?” she asked again, rocking on my hips. She reached back to squeeze my balls. “Mmm, got something in here for me?”

I could only moan. “Please, please, no, yes, oh please…” I lost all sense as a huge, unstoppable climax began to build. I could feel the pressure in my balls, in my cock, and deep inside my groin. I opened my eyes briefly to look longingly at her, and heard myself moaning. Suddenly what seemed like a gallon of hot come pulsed deep into her pussy as my hips pushed up off of the bed. Finally I collapsed, my cock now spent inside her, the pressure in my balls released. I opened my eyes again. “That was incredible,” I told her, “I think my throat is dry from moaning so much.”

Still smiling down at me, she said, “I didn’t give you permission to come. You’re so selfish, you couldn’t at least wait until I was satisfied? After all, I had to wait more than a week for this, you know.” Using her fingers to hold her swollen pussy lips together, she slowly raised herself off my now-soft cock, and moved up to position herself over my mouth. “I think that you need to eat me until I’ve had enough,” she said, holding her dripping pussy over my mouth, “besides, weren’t you just saying that you had a dry throat? I’ll bet that there’s a real lot of juice for you in here.”

I don’t remember when it started, but for some weeks now, she had decided that any time that I came in her, that I was to suck out the juices and to clean her with my tongue. She claimed that I was much better than using a towel, and the best part was that she didn’t have to get out of bed. Admittedly, I did get some small pleasure from making her come that way. Unfortunately, she sometimes didn’t care about coming, and merely used me, which made me feel a little humiliated. It was useless to resist with my hands still handcuffed, so I reluctantly opened my mouth and licked her. I almost gagged on the amount of hot, salty come that dripped from her pussy, but didn’t dare stop sucking on her until she had came, shuddering.

“Okay, now it’s my turn to lie down,” she said. She pushed me off the bed, told me to kneel at the edge. She then lay back on some pillows and placed her legs over my shoulders, pulling my head into her still-dripping mound. “Mmm, too bad your hands are still tied, or else you could be fucking me, too.” I just mumbled in agreement and slowly pleasured her with my mouth and tongue. In no time she came again, and I rested my head on her thigh.

“If you undo these cuffs, I could rub you, or use the dildo on you, or even give you a little massage,” I suggested.

This sounded like a good idea to her, and a few minutes later she was stretched out on the bed and I was kissing her deeply, my hand slowly pumping the familiar red dong. I climbed on top of her to give her some body contact, and found myself getting hard again listening to her moans of pleasure. I teased her with the dildo, keeping her right on the edge of coming, and when I could feel myself harden all the way, I slipped between her legs to give her some of the real thing. She responded by arching her hips to meet mine. I angled myself to push at her pubic bone and she grabbed my hips. She was going to have a nice one, I thought, so I pumped her deeply, making sure that she felt the full length of my shaft inside her. Her hips stiffened and I felt her bite my shoulder hard. I continued my pace, and she came twice more before finally settling down to the bed. I kissed her lightly until she caught her breath.

I motioned her to roll over on her stomach, and entered her from behind.

“Ooh, you never do me this way anymore,” she murmured.

“When do I have the chance?” I asked her, pushing my hips deeply. Her pussy was still hot, and soon I felt another orgasm building. I pulled her back onto her side, and entered her roughly. She closed her eyes and gripped my hand tightly. I let her come once, and then I increased my own tempo. The feel of my balls dragging on her warm thighs, and her soft ass pressing into my groin was enough to again send me over the edge. Although not as intense as the first one, I came hard, letting out a short yell. I collapsed on top of her, my legs still shaking.

I kissed her back and neck. “Mmm, just like the old days, eh?” I said.

In response she reached for the cock cage on the nightstand and handed it to me. “No, it’s better than the old days,” she replied, “wouldn’t you agree?”

I started to protest, saying that she had just gotten some wonderful sex, and that I was happy to have gotten to come twice. She replied that making me wait was what made it seem more wonderful, and besides, I should consider myself lucky that she let me come a second time. “After all, you barely lasted two minutes for the first one. You must have forgotten that you’re supposed to be pleasing me, not the other way around.”

And once again she helped to squeeze my cock into the chastity cage, closed the stainless steel ring around my balls and clicked the lock shut.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she mentioned, “I just felt a few drips down my leg. Would you clean me up, please?”

…to be continued…


More of my ridiculous attempts at erotica can be found on my Stories page.

Hear me, hear me!

As if I need one more thing to feed the Shatner-esque ego monster that I have developed over the last year or so, along comes Maymay who gets this idea that people might actually enjoy listening to me ramble on about orgasm denial, chastity, vanilla sex, relationships, and hot chastity porn. The result is an interview with yours truly, co-hosted with Eileen and now available at Kink on Tap, Maymay’s repository for some other interesting interviews and discussions.

I’m not even sure what to say about this. My hosts were excellent, asked great questions, and gave me the impression that I was almost in their living room having a chat over a bottle of wine. We discussed chastity play from a vanilla perspective, as opposed to how it fits in with a D/s or BDSM lifestyle. And yes, I talked a little about how Mrs. Edge and I got into this, and how we “play” with it, and what we do when we’re not playing. Mrs. Edge, unfortunately, was not able to join us, but she was with us in spirit.

And despite the fact that an hour earlier our personal trainer made several attempts to kill me, by the time the interview started I was relaxed and full of my naturally sparkling wit and charm. As you listen to the podcast, you can imagine me lounging on the futon, cell phone in one hand, the loose tank top showing off my ripped, muscular body.

No, that’s not exactly how it was, but it certainly couldn’t hurt if you imagined it that way, could it?

May and I have run into each other a number of times over the last three or four years in various web forums, and I’m always happy to see him add something to a group. Eileen made me feel remarkably comfortable, even though this was the first time that she and I had ever spoken. I felt a little badly because I had six hours worth of information in my head, and only one hour to get it all out, and I think that some of it might have gotten jumbled in the topic jumping. But I had a lot of fun with this, and I hope that some of the listeners will get a better idea as to how OD can enhance a relationship.

You can listen to it online, or download the mp3 file and play it at your leisure.

http://odeo.com/audio/16455003/view

May and Eileen – once again, thank you very much for having me. I’m going to be insufferably pleased with myself for at least a month!

Even a caveman…?

Well, as I read the interplay between Bitchy, Eileen and Maymay about how men in our society can not be considered to be both “pretty” and “powerful” or “manly“, and the comments increase almost hourly with exceptions to those rules and about how some women are all about breaking down those stereotypes, in comes this news item:

Study: Men With ‘Cavemen’ Faces Most Attractive to Women

Yabba dabba yabba dabba yabba dabba dabba doo now!

Guys with bulldog-like faces have been chick magnets throughout human evolutionary history.

A recent study of the skulls of human ancestors and modern humans finds that women, and thereby evolution, selected for males with relatively short upper faces.

The region between the brow and the upper-lip is scrunched proportionately to the overall size of their heads.

Among the men who fit the bill: Will Smith and Brad Pitt.

The scientists are not certain why today’s distinctive male face and its proportions evolved.

Here’s where it gets interesting:

While the scientists who authored the current study examined skulls and did not specifically study how modern faces fit the findings, the Natural History Museum press officers applied Weston’s findings to a “quick and dirty” survey of photos of celebrities.

They came up with a list of stars with masculine faces, listing them from most to least masculine according to facial dimensions: Will Smith, Australian singer Peter Andre, Justin Timberlake, French soccer pro Thierry Henry, Brad Pitt, David Beckham, Johnny Depp and Kanye West.

I don’t really have any comment on this, except to note the synchronicity of this article. That, and, perhaps because of my age, the word “pretty” doesn’t jibe with the list of adjectives that are “supposed” to go in the Masculine column on my internal checklist.

Frankly, I don’t think I ever gave this discussion topic much thought until last year, when I posted those pics of my new frenum piercing. A reader from another group saw them and wrote “Oooh, Tom – you’re *pretty*”

I didn’t know quite how to take that at first. Admittedly, I had to wonder for a few moments if she was being serious. “I’m a guy,” I thought to myself, “call me handsome, virile, or even ‘attractive’, but don’t compare me with a woman! That’s, like, you know… weird.”

Okay, so I just completely blew my image of “Mr. Non-judgmental.” Sorry.

Don’t worry, I’m all better now.

I don’t know where some of these cultural ideas come from, or why they hide inside us, exerting a subtle influence. But sometimes it takes an incident like this, or like what Maymay experienced in order to drag those mental bogeymen out into the daylight in order to be examined.

Roughing it

For the last week, the Edge household has been on the verge of a breakdown. Tempers flared. Frustrations mounted. Passions ran high. Reason teetered on the, well, the edge of sanity.

No, it’s got nothing to do with that orgasm denial stuff. We’re talking some damned serious loss of control around here.

The internetz was broken.

Ah yes, I saw some wincing out there, didn’t I?

The new family Dell E5120 has been acting funny. Keeps dropping the DSL connection, necessitating a reboot to get the connection back. A couple of weeks ago, my SIL and her partner came up to help me set up a wireless network, and while they were here (they’re both net geeks, and a little more up-to-date than I am) we looked at the connection problem. Jiggled some wires, poked at some settings, and they declared it fixed. Got the old PC working in “my office” (the code name for the room that my wife is decorating for me to use, in colors that I dislike, and in arrangements that are inconvenient) with a new wireless card, and things looked okay. For about 2 hours. Did an XP update, rebooted the machine, and lost the signal.

After poking around at that (the wireless manager simply would not “stick” on some of the settings), the SIL came by later in the week. Mrs. Edge said that she changed a couple of things, and it seemed fine. Then the next update came by, and neither machine could stay connected.

I’ve had a couple of pockets of limited connectivity, and at some point I was so desperate for all of you that I used my phone to browse (and I should give honorable mention to Opera Mini as a great replacement browser for the default things that ship on your phone) and even leave comments.

Anyway, I seem to have narrowed the problem down to the new Dell, but at this point I can’t tell if it’s a hardware or a Vista issue. But I swapped cards and cables all weekend, and now the old XP machine that I built a couple of years ago is the “main” machine, and the office, which I’d been trying to keep free of wires, now hosts the command center. But putting the wireless card in the new Dell seems to be working, and right now I’m not touching anything.

Yes, I know I probably voided my warranty. But I’m also not ready to sit down for three hours with Dell tech support. You won’t tell on me, will you?

Anyway, I wanted to mention that to be suddenly deprived of my nightly routine was horrible. Each night, instead of watching TV, I read the ongoing soap opera/sitcom of Kimba & Fusion, or poke through the musings of the various bloggers on my sidebar, perhaps read a bit of Richard’s ruminations, check my own blog stats to see how many people loved me that day, and I finish up by reading the comedy stylings of Bitchy and Elizabeth, with occasional guest stars, like May and Eileen. Then, my heart lightened, I turn in for the evening.

Being deprived of this quasi-reality socializing entertainment-ism made me give some thought to the idea of relationships. What are they? Are relationships different now that so many of us spend hours online in any given day? Do we read each other for the entertainment, to feel connected, perhaps to imagine that we have some kind of social standing? Are some of us being more or less “real” by adding to our blogrolls?

These questions have come up in various places for the last decade as people become more attenuated to electronic communication. I’ve thought about it myself any number of times; it’s probably good for me – for any of us – to take a reality check once in a while in order to evaluate our relationships and what we get out of them – no matter the venue in which they exist.

By the way – I’m grateful that you all didn’t skip out while I wasn’t looking. I’d miss you.

Exercising my perogatives

I’ve been feeling badly about not having written anything of substance for a while; but when I check my site stats, I see that most visitors are simply coming here to read hot chastity porn, so maybe nobody has even noticed that I haven’t written anything of substance in a while.

First off, I’ve got all the usual excuses about being busy with work, family, etc. Actually, that’s a good thing; I used to stay an hour or so after everyone left work to wind down and do a few things without being distracted, and if I had anything to write, that was usually my best time. And I’ve been spending more time with my family, since the weather turned nice. I still spend a lot of time reading and commenting at night, but my “think and compose” time has sort of evaporated.

But there’s something else, too. Although I didn’t write much about it here, I did make a small post on my LiveJournal about some health problems I’d been having; specifically how I’d spent Valentine’s Day evening in the ICU at a local hospital because I developed chest pains after shoveling snow. While it turned out to be either stress or a pulled muscle, or maybe both, the real issue was that I’m a stone’s throw from being 50 years old, and over the last 5 years I’ve put on some weight from a more sedentary lifestyle. I spend more time behind a desk, and have more stress from customers, employees, suppliers, etc.

Since then, I’ve been a regular visitor to the doctor for those various tests that they recommend: blood pressure, cholesterol, heart strength, and all that. For the last few months I’ve been taking Diovan to lower my high blood pressure, one of those Statin drugs to lower my cholesterol, and a few other odd pills which I’m gradually reducing as things get to where they should be.

But the biggest reason why I’ve been lacking time is this: I recently got into one of those 12 week diet/exercise programs with a personal trainer. While I was never really heavy, over the winter my weight had crept up to 205 lbs, which, on a 5′ 8″ frame was simply too much. By June I had dropped about 15 lbs from paying more attention to my diet, but I wanted to do better.

Mrs. Edge had been toying with the idea of liposuction (for her, not for me) after several of her friends had done it, but she ended up (partly at my urging) trying to get her own weight down with exercise. She found a training-style gym in the area that uses the Body for Life method, and signed up. After six weeks, I managed to clear my calendar and I joined with her. We managed to rearrange our schedules to we could go at the same time, which meant I’d have to leave work much earlier than usual. So, while I don’t have that end of the day winding down period, I’m making up for it by doing something even healthier. It’s 6 days a week, usually for an hour.

Anyway, I’m only a month or so into it, so I’ve only lost a little weight, but I do seem to have lost a lot of fat; my pants are looser, I’m down another notch in my belt, and I’m slowly getting back the muscle definition that I’ve lost over the last dozen or so years. We do weight training and cardio, and the twenty minutes on the treadmill is more work than an hour of weights. In fact, I’m off to by some better sneakers for that because I’ve kind of hit a wall; I just can’t run any faster, and it’s jarring me so much that I’m thinking a more shock-absorbent shoe might help.

The real fun, though, is watching Mrs. Edge watch herself in the mirror. Never the athletic type, she’s showing some real definition in her arms and shoulders, and her butt is changing shape as her thighs build muscle and lose fat. She looks at herself all the time. I’ve caught her flexing her arms, and she just laughs because she’s never “had muscles” before. We ran into her chiropractor the other day, who noticed her posture and shape – she was practically swaggering with pride for the rest of the afternoon.

Several people have commented on both the expense and the time commitment involved. It’s not cheap – a few friends have commented on the time and money, “Oh, I’d never manage to find time to do that” or I’m much too busy to exercise every day” or “I’d rather spend that money on a vacation.” And sure, I used to say the same thing. But since February, I’ve managed to find time to miss work, to get to various doctors and labs, and I’ve managed to spend a lot of money on prescriptions.

Anyway, I’ve committed to doing this until the end of September, after which time I’ll probably join one of those$15-a-month gyms and go a few times a week for maintenance. I know that Bitchy Jones and a few others have been asking for more nekkid pics of me, my piercing , or my chastity device, and I keep putting everyone off. I’m anticipating that in two more months I’ll have some much more, er, photogenic material for you.

Life imitates bad joke

There is an old joke that almost always makes me laugh when I remember it:

Jerry suffered from terrible headaches all of his adult life. No docotr seemed to be able to help him He finally went to a new specialist in town. After a thorough examination, the specialist turned to him and said “Jerry the good new is I can cure your headaches. The bad news, however, is that it will require castration. You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press on your spine, which in turn creates these serious headaches you’ve been experiencing. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.”

Jerry was shocked and depressed. He wondered if he had anything to live for. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to answer, but decided he had no choice but to have the op.

When he eventually left hospital, he was pleasantly surprised at how good it felt not to have a headache for the first time in 20 years.

As he walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person. He could make a fresh start & live a new life. Seeing a mens clothing store, he thought a new suit would be the perfect thing to mark this new beginning.

He entered the shop and told the salesman “I’d like a new suit please”

The elderly tailor eyed him briefly and said “Lets see…size 44 long?”

“Thats right, how did you know?” said Jerry laughing

“I’ve been in the business 60 years!” replied the tailor

Jerry tried on the suit, which fitted like a glove.

As he admired himself in the mirror, the salesman asked “How about a new shirt as well?” He looked at Jerry again and said “34 sleeve and 16 1/2 neck?”

Once again Jerry was surprised…”Thats right, how did you know?”

“Like I said…60 years in the business!”

He tried on the new shirt, a perfect fit. As he adjusted the collar, the salesman asked “How about new shoes?”

Jerry was enjoying this experience, so thought, why not?

So the salesman eyed Jerry’s feet…”Lets see…size 9 1/2 wide?”

Again Jerry was amazed “How did you know?”

“Well young fella, I’ve been in the business long enough to know these things!”

Jerry tried on the shoes and found they fitted perfectly. As he strolled around the shop the salesman asked “So that only leaves the new underwear…how about it?”

Jerry agreed, to carry on….a complete new me, he thought.

The salesman stepped back, eyed Jerry’s waist & said “Let’s see….size 36?”

“Ah ha! Wrong there, I’ve worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old!”

The salesman shook his head, “There’s no way I’m ever wrong, you can’t wear a size 34″

“Oh yes I can” replied Jerry, “and have been most of my life!”

“I don’t understand”, said the tailor, “By my reckoning, a size 34 underwear would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache.”

Heh heh…

Anyway, what recalled this joke to mind was a news article that I ran across this evening. In a bad case of life imitating art…

Testicle Surgery Mystifies Police

 

ST. PAUL, Minn. (AP) – When conventional medical professionals refused to remove a 62-year-old local man’s testicles, police said he turned to mysterious “professionals” to relieve what he called chronic pain.

Now police want to find the fly-by-night surgeons.

“I have never in my life seen anything quite like that,” said St. Paul police spokesman Tom Walsh.

According to a search warrant affidavit filed Monday, the man complained of chronic pain and turned to conventional medical personnel to remove his testicles.

When they refused, the 62-year-old man said he hired other “professionals” to do the surgery. He would not tell officers who they were, saying he didn’t want to get them into trouble.

Police said a couple of weeks ago, two or three people operated on the man in his home. He was unconscious. When he woke up, his testicles were gone. So were his “professionals.”

His groin area was bleeding heavily, so he called his daughter. She called for help.

Police found an improvised operating room in the man’s house, with bright lights, an apparent operating table, a camera and various medical supplies and equipment. There was also blood in several rooms of the house.

(Ref: My Way News)

Chronic pain that requires a removal of your testicles? What’s that about? Anybody? Anybody?

Yeesh!

Orgasmic release in a CB-3000

This is for Eileen, who asked the question, “Have you found that you’re able to come while wearing the CB3000?”

I posted this on the CB-3000 Yahoo group back in December of 2003.

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a note in a few of the chastity-oriented groups that after almost three weeks of 24/7 lock-up in a CB3000, and slightly longer without an orgasm, my wife and I were making love (rather passionately, I should add), and in the middle of it, I felt a sudden, odd feeling in my groin; a minute of so later I had a few involuntary contractions, and what appeared to be a small amount of ejaculate had leaked out. Keep in mind that I was still inside the CB3k, and there had been no direct genital stimulation, so we were both a bit surprised. I had wondered if anyone had a similar experience.

Anyway, last night after well over 30 days sans orgasm (or what my wife was calling “the *first* 30 days”) and 4 straight weeks locked up, I “came” again, only this time it was unmistakable. Last week we acquired a Terra Firma strap-on harness from Stormy Leather, and a nicely shaped Tantus silicone dildo that’s fairly close to my own proportions. She had unlocked me a couple of times this week to use me for her pleasure, and earlier in the evening we had spent some time kissing and fondling each other. Needless to say I was pretty aroused by the time we went to bed. So still caged, I used the strap-on on her for about 20 minutes, when she asked me to lay on my back so she could “ride” me for a bit. Seeing her come several more times like that nearly drove me out of my mind with lust, so of course I didn’t complain when she leaned back and started massaging and squeezing my testicles as she rode up and down. I told her that the pressure of the dildo against my pubic bone seemed to be doing something, but I wasn’t quite sure what. She kept squeezing, and without much warning I felt a similar feeling to the one from the other week, only a little stronger. I let her know that it felt like the same thing was going to happen, but she kept on riding and squeezing anyway, since she finds the idea of my “involuntary” climaxes to be exciting.

Well, a few moments later I felt not just small contractions, but some huge muscle spasms. Since my penis was filling the cage, my urethra was lined up with the slot at the end, and a very large load of ejaculate sailed as far as four or five feet away, onto the floor. Again, we were both stunned because I hadn’t had any direct stimulation. In fact, the CB3k kept me from being totally erect, and it was certainly pointing me in the wrong direction (down, instead of up).

I realize, of course, that sex is 90% mental, and that anyone can climax with enough arousal. But we’re still pretty surprised, and not unpleasantly, either. On my part, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience, although it was a bit … weird. I think that I bruised myself a bit on the hard A ring, but the feeling was pleasant ( sort of), and surprisingly not “draining”. In fact, I woke up this morning as aroused as ever, so it doesn’t look as if I’ve gotten all those hormones completely out of my system. On my wife’s part, she gets insanely excited to think about having 100% control over my orgasms, and had been talking about only allowing me to have the “involuntary” type. The idea that I can have a somewhat pleasurable climax and still be pretty horned up just adds fuel to her fire at this point.

So anyway, I’m just reporting what we thought was an unusual experience, and again am looking to hear from anyone to whom something similar might have happened.

Since then, we’ve found that these “releases” are pretty much involuntary, however I have learned to figure out how close I am and I keep her informed so that she can decide whether or not to let them continue. It’s odd because I can’t always tell – usually it’s during sex, but a few times it happened some minutes later when we were relaxing. I guess if you consider it a type of prostate milking, then it can be a useful thing to work with.


If you found this interesting, you might also be interested in some of my other real-life experiences which are listed in the True Tales page.

Not the Usual Anniversary Present – 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Week 11: This was a decidedly bad turn of events.

During the rest of the week, she made sure that I did something for her every single night. I was sure it was her way of reminding me that she had to do without, although I kept reminding her that she seemed to get a lot more pleasure out of “doing without” than I did. She kept reminding me that this whole arrangement was my idea to begin with, and the least I could do was to accept my birthday present with a smile. In the meantime, she would have to force herself to have weekly pedicures, back rubs, massages, and a few sessions taking pleasure from my tongue.

Finally, her day off came. I was almost frantic from more than two weeks without coming. We both jumped into the shower, and I gladly washed her back by soaping my hairy chest and rubbing against her back. She was soon ready to get out, but I told her that I needed to stay in a bit longer. I was afraid of coming too fast, and I needed some time to settle down. It was only then that I realized that she had not given me the key before my shower.

The shower helped to ease the soreness in my groin, and I walked to the bedroom. To my surprise, I saw her already in bed, eyes closed and smiling broadly. A glance further down told me she was fucking herself with the dildo. I watched her hand moving it in and out; it was as if she wasn’t even aware that I was staring at her. I felt a twinge of jealousy at the rubber dong, but kept staring as she slowly brought herself to orgasm. She opened her eyes, not surprised to see me there. I climbed into bed and held her. Sensing what I was about to ask, she put her finger over my lips. I rolled on top of her, kissing her hungrily, my hands touching, groping everywhere. I rubbed her pussy with my fingers and felt her slippery and warm. As usual, she pushed my head down to her mound. Handing me the dildo, she leaned back again to have me lick her expertly while I pressed the dildo inside of her. She was very excited, and began to moan loudly. Her hands grabbed my hair and pulled hard, I had to pull back in order to catch my breath. Within moments she tightened her legs around me and squeezed. She came strongly, and almost immediately came again. I kept licking until I could feel her spasms subside. Almost a minute later she sank back into the mattress, seemingly spent.

“What the hell was that all about?” I asked her.

She just shook her head, “ Mmm, I don’t know, I was just feeling horny, I guess.” She reached down to feel me. I jumped. “I’ll bet I know what you want,” she murmured. “I hope that you’ve learned your lesson about being ready for me when I want you. I don’t want you to disappoint me like that again.”

I shook my head, but before I could mention that I was still locked up she pulled me on top of her. “Come on,” she said, “I’m really wet. Put it in me. I want to feel it.”

Remembering the last time we had done this, I started to pull back. “No,” I said, “I don’t want to come like that! I want a good one. Please, unlock me! Please?”

She just chuckled. “I just want to make sure that you learned your lesson. After all, it’s you’re your fault that I had to go without your nice cock last week. You didn’t think you’d get away without some punishment, did you?”

“But it’s not good this way,” I complained.

“It’s good for me,” she replied, and besides, it’s all you’re going to get this time. Now, do you want to come or don’t you?”

I did of course. I gently pushed myself into her, gasping as her warm pussy closed over the head of my cock that had swelled out of the cage. Now I really was frantic. I wanted to come so badly, since it had been over two weeks. But I wanted to make it last longer, since it would probably be another week before I’d get the chance. But no matter how long it lasted, I couldn’t have a real orgasm while still locked up. The cage kept me from the deep muscle spasms that make it so satisfying.

“What’s the matter,” asked my wife, “I thought you would be happy to come after waiting so long.” She paused, “but if you want, we could always wait until the next time…”

Groaning with frustration, I pushed as deeply into her as the cage allowed. I barely noticed her stiffening with her own orgasm as mine built so quickly. I moved back and forth a few times and felt a huge contraction start in the root of my cock. As I heard her come, my own spasms started and I suddenly felt my seed just trickling out. No wave of pleasure, no firm contraction from my groin, just a few small spurts and my come merely spilled out of me. I collapsed on top of her and literally sobbed in frustration.

“Didn’t last very long that time, did you?” she asked. She held me for a moment and said, “So, maybe I shouldn’t have let you come if you weren’t going to enjoy it. On the other hand, now you’ll remember how our arrangement works. Am I right?”

I nodded, too frustrated to argue. Feeling used, I allowed her to push my head down to her pussy so she could be satisfied.

“Remember,” she reminded me again, “you should always be ready to give me some when I want it.” Soon, she lay back in the bed, enjoying her orgasms, and ignoring me.

…to be continued…


More of my ridiculous attempts at erotica can be found on my Stories page.