1 hour ago
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
I apologize for my long absence. In late February I had something happen which strikes fear and terror in the heart of all computer users, especially writers. I had a complete computer hard drive crash. Actually, the plural is more accurate - crashes. Incredible as it sounds, not only my internal hard drive crashed but my back up external drive crashed as well. My computer and back up drive were on the same power strip (supposedly a top notch surge suppressor) so whatever killed one, probably got the other one as well. I left my computer on overnight and we had a pretty good thunderstorm so I'm thinking maybe a lightning strike caused a power surge that fried both of them.
The good news is I do keep an archive drive that I update monthly so I didn't lose five years worth of files and all of my applications. The bad news was that I missed my January update due to heavy work demands so I lost about six weeks worth of work. Fortunately, I had hard copies of most of it so it required a lot of re-typing but little had to be recreated from zero.
There was one exception to that. It was the first four pages of an entry to this blog responding to Devoted Lover's blog (http://devotedlvr.com/2011/02/) entry describing the stages of male chastity acceptance. It very accurately described my own experience with my wife. My draft described a recent play session in which my wife had made one of her infrequent "great leaps forward." It was probably one of my best works because I still felt the intensity of it when I wrote it. I will not be able to reproduce it; the memory of the play session is still there but not the feeling. But, in the interest of trying to capture some sense of what it was like and to provide continuity for the progress of our relationship recorded in my blog, I will try.
The stages of acceptance of male chastity by a spouse was very accurately described by Devoted Lover in her February 13th blog entry "Stages of Acceptance and Eroticizing the Mundane. She described those stages as:
Weirded Out (may be as extreme as total revulsion)
If the woman is GGG (good, giving, game)
Laissez-faire [sure - whatever, but I'm not getting involved in it]
If you have been reading this blog, you know that my wife clearly experienced the first three stages (she likened my cb-6000 to Hannibal Lecter's mask). You also know that she slowly progressed to Laissez-faire, tolerating my wearing of the device but not interacting with it. She seems to have skipped over "cautiously curious," - never asking any questions about male chastity or doing any research of her own. Finally, she arrived at "grudging acceptance" where she remains most of the time, with occasional regression to "laissez-faire" and infrequent leaps to "enthusiastic participant."
One of those infrequent leaps occurred about five weeks ago, in late February, during a play session and it gave me a glimpse into what could be if she ever made the leap and stayed there. It was as intensely powerful as it was unexpected. I was floating on what must have been a dopamine high for several days afterward - smiling whenever the images from that play session flashed in my mind.
It began ordinarily enough with a "Lady's Night." For the benefit of first time readers, I will give a quick summary of our game. We use a game of chance to determine the window of time in which I will be allowed to orgasm. The game of chance is played using a velvet sack containing eight marbles, seven black and one white. Every other night we do a "drawing ceremony;" basically, a lot of cuddling, gentle touching and passionate kisses in our bed in a romantic atmosphere of lighted, scented candles and soft music. At the end, I produce the sack of marbles and she makes a "blind" selection of one of them. If it's black, nothing happens, the black marble is removed (improving my odds for next time) and she draws again two days later. If she draws a white marble, it means I will get to orgasm sometime within five days, but only at the time, place and manner of her choosing.
Again, for novice readers of this blog, I should mention that my wife rigged the game some time ago, putting something on the white marble to give it texture so she can tell which marble is which even with a blind drawing. I don't let on that I know about the rigging because it achieves precisely what I want - she decides when I orgasm. I figure if she needs the cover of the game, so be it. Presently, it is enough that I know she's in charge of my release, even if it isn't out in the open.
In between my "white marble" releases, I've begun giving my wife regular "Lady's Nights." A Lady's Night is an evening in which I am focused entirely on giving her pleasure and she need not worry about mine. This has come to mean that I give her a long, slow, sensuous massage with scented candles and spa type relaxing music playing softly. Sometimes, I will do her entire body; sometimes just focusing on her feet and legs. In either case, the final result is a happy ending for her - usually as a result of my fingers, tongue and small vibrator arousing her with my wife finishing herself with her favorite wand vibrator while my hands and fingers caress her body.
These massage sessions always start with me locked in my chastity device. Although she was concerned about pain and injury to me from being aroused while I was confined the first few times we did this, lately she has come to enjoy the effect she has on me and the amount of discomfort it causes me. A couple of times, when she was highly aroused and wanted to be penetrated by me (she doesn't like dildos), she's had me take off the chastity device and make love to her. She even had me orgasm the first few times she did this because feeling me cum inside of her is such a turn on for her. One memorable time though, she had me penetrate her while she came using her vibrator and then had me withdraw and denied me release. It was such an incredible turn for me that I think she finally became convinced that frequent orgasm denial is what I wanted, even if she didn't understand it.
Well, this night's Lady's Night" began as it usually did with us relaxing in our den, watching something sexy (R-rated is about as far as she'll go; she doesn't like porn at all . . . sigh) and having some liquid refreshment. I like red wine. She is partial to Vodka and lemonade. My wife is slim and rarely drinks (mostly before a play session or occasionally when we are out to dinner), so there is a fairly narrow window of alcohol consumption for her between nicely relaxed and uninhibited on one side of the window, and nearly unconscious on the other side. It would be nice if the amount created the same effect all of the time, but it doesn't. How much she's eaten, how tired she is from the day's activities and how good her mood is to start all seem to affect it. Mixing her drinks, I sometimes feel like a golfer tossing a few blades of grass into the air to see which way the wind is blowing. On this night, I figured about four ounces of vodka spaced out over two hours should be about right.
About a half hour into the movie, we had both finished our drinks which was unusual for her - most of the time she nursed the drink for at least an hour. After she drained the drink, she took my hand and started to get up - our signal that it was time for the play session to begin. The bedroom was already prepared and we had both showered so she went into the closet to remove her nightie and came out wrapped in a large bath towel. I had the bed, lotions and toys prepared and waiting for her. She laid face down on the bed, unwrapped the towel and let the ends fall to the side.
Even after nearly twenty years of marriage, I never get tired of looking at my wife's beautiful body. She has always been slim. What little weight she has gained over the years seems to have found their way only to her hips and rear, softening them a bit over the rock hard, tight derriere she had when she was younger. It has created the curves for a small heart-shaped butt that is so sexy that I get a fierce hard on at first glance. It's like I'm a hormonal fourteen year old all over again.
As I pick up the massage lotion from the tub of warm water I kept it in, I couldn't help admiring her creamy white skin, still soft and unmarred even after these many years. My lotion covered hands found the narrow part of her torso just at the bottom of her rib cage and pressed down gently as I pushed upwards along her back, my thumbs pressing a groove on each side of her spinal column. My first touch caused her to inhale deeply. As I reached the top, she exhaled, emptying her lungs and relaxing completely. I began my usual routine, massaging the nape of her neck and shoulders as I straddled her waist, keeping my weight on my shins and off her body.
My Birdlock chastity device does its level best to keep me confined but it too must give way a little as my heart drives my blood into my expanding dick, causing the device to tighten around my balls and then pull away from my body, creating an almost cartoonish distortion of my genitals. I am used to it - it doesn't cause me any pain. In many ways, I enjoy the feeling of tightness on me. [I should note here that my experiment with the Birdlock device ended unsuccessfully. I just couldn't find a way of wearing it such that it did not discolor and irritate my dick. I'm sure it works for many others, but not for me. I am happily back in my CB-6000s]
I continued my massage, occasionally leaning over all the way to kiss the back of her neck, run the tip of my tongue along the outer part of her ear lobes (which always makes her shudder) and whispering how much I love her in her ear. When I do so, I'm sure she can feel the weight and heat of my hardness on her lower back. What a power trip that must be - to be able to have such an immediate, powerful and tangible effect on another person just by being there, just by having them look at you; without lifting a finger or making any effort at all.
As I continue my massage, she is mostly quiet, occasionally sighing when my hands find a particularly sensitive spot. Usually, I avoid her genitals until the end of the massage when I switch into sexual service mode and do all I can to arouse her and prepare her for orgasm. This night, for whatever reason, I didn't bypass her pussy on my way down to her legs. Instead, I let my fingers trail lightly along the insides of her thighs, just grazing her pussy while working back up to knead and massage her butt. On the way back down to her inner thighs, I ran my thumbs down deeply into the crevice of her ass, lightly passing over her anus. I heard her gasp when I did this. Ah, something new . . .
I made the rounds again, grazing her pussy, kneading her ass, then using my thumbs to once again trail deeply down the inside of her ass crevice, this time passing over her anus with just a bit more pressure. Again, eliciting a gasp and an added wiggle in her hips. I repeated this several more times, adding a small variation each time to where and how I grazed her pussy and touched the insides of her ass crevice, a couple of times stopping just at the edges of her anus and squeezing her ass cheeks between my thumb and fingers, feeling the ridges of her anus tighten under my thumbs.
I continued the massage, repeating this several more times, my wife finding it increasingly more difficult to remain still - her hips began wiggling and then thrusting into the mattress. I had backed up to where I was straddling her feet as I continued to knead and massage her ass and upper thighs. She moved and shifted more, moving her feet around until she found what she was searching for - my very tightly constrained dick and balls, pulled a couple of inches from my body and pulsing with excitement.
I felt the heel of her foot find my dick and balls and begin rubbing it - lightly at first and then with increasing pressure. When she found the deliciously sensitive spot under my balls and dug her heel in a bit against my swollen perineum, I felt an incredible zing of pleasure which could only be my prostate contracting in response. I moaned loudly and heard her giggle as she repeated the move, digging her heel in until I doubled over in almost paralyzing pleasure. I recovered quickly and responded with my fingers, drawing a line down the crevice of her ass, stopping to briefly massage her anus with my thumbs, then continuing down the slit of her pussy until they found the engorged nub at the top. Pausing again, I slipped my thumbs along either side of her clit and made just the slightest movement of massage. It was enough to make her ass jump and to get an "Oh god," with her moan of pleasure.
We continued our little "pas de deux" for several minutes, my wife adding her other foot to the act by surround my already trapped member between her two insteps and then rubbing them back and forth, like a girl scout twirling a stick to start a fire. Well, she certainly succeeded in heating me up, and from the way she was jumping, wiggling and moaning, I think I was managing to raise her temperature as well.
My wife rolled over on her back to signal she was ready for more direct attention to her pleasure zones. I squeezed out a large dollop of warmed lotion into my upturned palm, rubbed my hands together, then placed them lightly on her breasts and then began a gentle massage, squeezing from the outside of her breasts in until I reached her nipples which I took between my thumbs and forefingers and gently rubbed, pulling them up slightly away from her body. She moaned again and then pulled me down for a long, deep, french kiss. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held me tightly to her lips while our tongues plunged, danced and twirled around each others.
She released her grip as I rose up a bit. I took a firm grip of her arms, just below her elbows and held them down on the mattress at her sides as I kissed and licked my way down the center of her chest, made a detour to lick each nipple, then continued down over her hollowed mid-section, tickling her navel. I released her arms as I continued down to the top of her pubic mound; her hands went immediately to the sides of my head to guide me.
My wife is a natural blonde, her hair the color of straw. Her body hair is also very lightly colored and fine. This includes her pubic mound and mons which has just a sparse, light covering of fine blonde hairs which she keeps neatly trimmed with a monthly bikini wax (I've tried to convince her to go all the way with a complete Brazillian wax but so far, to no avail).
My tongue traced a path around the edges of her pubes, avoiding her slit altogether to further build the tension and anticipation. I began a second tour around her pubic area when I felt her hands tighten their grip on me and guide me to her spreading, puffy labia. I dipped the tip of my tongue into the bottom of her slit at the entrance to her tunnel and found her very wet and very hot. I took my time working my way up both sides of her inner labia; her grip on me becoming more insistent as she guided me to where she wanted me.
The first light swipe of my tongue under and to the sides of her already swollen clit must have been felt as almost electric because she jumped immediately at the touch. The spasm was accompanied by a moan of pleasure and the bending and spreading of her legs. From long experience with her, I know that she is then ready for some direct attention.
I began with a light tongue circle around her clit while playing with the entrance to her tunnel with my middle finger. I felt her legs pull back even more as she thrust her pelvis up, impaling herself with about half of my middle finger. She moaned loudly at the entry and shifted her hands from the sides to the back of my head. She pressed my face against her pussy and ground herself into me, rocking her folded legs back and forth and thrusting upward. My tongue worked the crevices on both sides of her clit as I began slowly pumping my middle finger into her. Reaching up with the tip of my finger, I found the puffy, rippled patch at the top of her tunnel and began a gentle pressure upward, adding a circular motion to the pressure.
My wife and I have made love many, many times. Years ago I had experimented with massaging her g-spot but she never really reacted much to it. After a while, I gave up on that lovemaking maneuver and moved on to other things. I don't know what made me try it again that night but I did and her reaction was unexpected. There was a sudden, loud intake of breath, a gasp really, and then a frantic pull on the back of my head, pressing me hard against her swollen pussy lips.
"Don't stop! Don't stop! Oh God, don't stop!" She said over and over again in a half whisper like a mantra.
When my tongue started licking the right side of her clit (the more sensitive side for her) while I pressed up and circled a little harder against her g-spot, she came immediately in a sudden jerk of muscular spasm, her hips leaping off the mattress as she thrust up against my face, her legs slamming shut, squeezing my head between her thighs as she pulled me tightly against her mound.
Her orgasm was unlike any other of her's that I could remember. Usually, she builds up slowly, spending a long time in an elevated plateau of pleasure before finishing herself off with her wand vibrator igniting an orgasm that goes on as long as she can stand the intensity of the pleasure; sometimes as long as twenty seconds or so. Now twenty seconds doesn't sound like a long time, but take a look at your watch and count off twenty seconds. Imagine what that must feel like to have an orgasm that lasts that long.
But this one was completely different. It was short, sharp and intensely pleasurable, more like the kind of orgasm that a man experiences; or at least the type that this man, me, experiences. The other big difference was there was no vibrator - she actually came without mechanical assistance; and it was me who triggered her orgasm, not her vibrator. That she achieved orgasm just from my attention, without the use of a vibrator, was so rare, so unusual, that I couldn't remember the last time it had happened. I was feeling very pleased with myself.
The surprises were just starting though. During our last year of chastity play, the usual routine after she came, if I had selected a white marble and she wanted me to cum then she had me get on my back while she climbed on top. But I hadn't selected a white marble on this cycle; this was a Lady's Night, so I was somewhat surprised when she told me to get on my back. This wasn't unprecedented though - several times during our year of play, she had simply overruled the marble game (as our rules said she could always do) and had me cum just because she liked the feel of me cumming inside her.
When this overruling happened in the past, she told me to remove the chastity device after she had me get on my back. I sort of expected that to happen this time too - especially since I had pleasured her to completion myself, without a vibrator; to what seemed to be a very intense, pleasurable completion. I'll never know but I think that's what she started to do when she reached out and grasped my still engorged and distended package behind the balls and looked back at me while still holding it. She paused as though something clicked inside her; like the switch on railroad track that sends a train off in another direction.
"This is not going anywhere," she said as she lightly shook my cock and balls, her face seriously earnest without a hint of mirth or play as she kept steady eye contact with me.
I thought we were done for the night but then she climbed on top of me anyway, straddling my mid-section. I must have looked confused because she finally broke into a smile as she reached back to the corner of the bed where her trusty wand vibrator lay ready for use. Picking it up, she switched it on low, then held it up briefly and smiled as she applied it to the top of her mound. I felt her body stiffen immediately, her face tilted up to the ceiling as she hissed a long "ahhhhhhhhhhh."
She was going to put on a show for me; that's what this was about. That, and she wanted her vibrator orgasm too. I was going to be a passive spectator to a live sex show - my wife's sex show. Well, I was right about the sex show - but passive spectator? Well, not quite.
As she ran the head of the wand vibrator up and down her slit, she moaned loudly and bounced up and down on my belly. In the dim candlelight, her body glistened with the perspiration that covered her. After a while, she looked back over her shoulder, found what she was looking for and reached back with her other hand, grasping my package and squeezing it, looking back and smiling as she made eye contact with me. She was really enjoying my plight. I think "enthusiastic participant," Devoted Lovers proposed final stage of chastity acceptance, would very aptly describe her at that moment. She had made the great leap forward from "grudging acceptance" on that night. If only the leap could be permanent . . .
Apparently, just putting on a sex show was not quite enough for her. She released my package and then inched her way up my torso, finally straddling my neck, her legs folded under my armpits. She filled my entire field of vision. There was only my wife and nothing, nobody else. It was a view of my wife that I loved, seated on my upper chest, towering over me - a closet submissive man's dream come true.
She lifted herself off my upper chest and thrust the bottom of her pussy down on my lips.
"Put your tongue in there," she said matter of factly, as though she was asking me to pass the salt.
I complied immediately, thrusting my tongue into her already drenched hole. I felt her tense immediately as she applied the loudly buzzing vibrator to her clit; the bottom of the vibrator head pressed up against my nose. She bounced up and down as I thrust my tongue in and withdrew it, then thrust it in again before swirling it around. My lips and cheeks were covered with her juices as she rocked back and forth, up and down, moaning loudly. I knew she was close when the buzz of the vibrator became a roar of noise. She had clicked it into high speed.
It took only a few seconds before she erupted, screaming "I'm cumming!" as she jerked and spasmed, grinding herself down on my tongue as she held the vibrator head tightly to her clit. I don't know how long it went on - she slowed a couple of times then seemed to ignite once again as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. Finally she slowed, dropped the vibrator down by her side and collapsed on top of me; her body curled up over and around my face. Her whole body was wet and she was breathing hard. She shuddered a few more times; I felt the muscle twitches of her abs as she pressed herself to me.
She was off to that special place we go - that floating, only semi-aware state of utter relaxation after a fully satisfying orgasm. For several minutes, I enjoyed the feeling of being completely enveloped by her. Finally, she began to stir and gave me a tight hug, whispering in my ear - "that was incredible - you are the best." I whispered back, "you are the best," an exchange of endearments that we often do after a fantastic love-making session.
She sat up and kind of rolled off me onto the bed and just stayed there for a couple of minutes while she caught her breath and her head cleared enough to sit up. She stirred once again, sat up and in a whisper said:
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I replied, in all truthfulness I was beyond fine - I was flying high. I could almost feel the pleasure creating dopamine coursing through my brain.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure, I'm sure," I replied.
She smiled again as she looked at me sleepily, both lids almost completely covering her eyes and said:
"Be careful what you wish for." And she smiled again before she got up to take her shower.
When she returned, we fell asleep in each other's arms. I felt like I was on top of the world. I think my wife was as satisfied as a woman could be on that night. I fell asleep quickly, my last thoughts pondering the question of whether my wife had finally accepted this new thing in our lives - the chastity lifestyle. Could I look forward to many more nights like this?
When I awoke the next morning, I found my wife was already up, showered and dressed. I had slept so deeply, so soundly that I hadn't heard her. I got up and gave her a hug.
"I had a fabulous time last night honey," I said looking into her eyes as I cupped her cheeks in my hands.
"So did I honey, so did I," she replied as she turned away from me, picked up her hairbrush and began running it through her thick, blonde tresses; the conversation seemingly over.
I waited for moment to see if she would turn back to me and continue talking about the previous night, but she didn't. I got the sense that she didn't want to talk about it. In the clear light of day, I think it created too much of a conflict with her vanilla world, vanilla outlook and vanilla self-identity. I think she was fine with it if she was able to compartmentalize it into a place labeled "drunken bedroom game," as long as it didn't enter the rest of her world. I didn't push the topic. I decided to enjoy it for what it was and see if I could recreate the conditions for doing it again. Perhaps with enough experiences like that, my wife will begin to accept that part of herself that had enjoyed a night of wild abandon and intense husband tease and denial without shame or regret. And perhaps, someday, she will make the great leap forward to "enthusiastic participant" and stay there. Wouldn't that be something?
Note: All images are from the internet. None are of my wife or myself. (Would that they were . . . )
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