2 hours ago
Friday, August 5, 2011
Again, much has happened since I last wrote. We had one of those moments in which we both sensed that the torch had finally passed. I was no longer making the rules and driving the process of male chastity. She was taking over - testing her wings and finding that she can, indeed, fly.
It began with our usual "drawing ceremony," where she picks from a sack of black marbles and one white marble. Several weeks ago we (or I) had added the additional wrinkle that if she chose a black marble, she got to choose which one of us rolled the dice. Then the one chosen would roll with the result being taken from a short stack of index cards, separate stacks for each of us. If I rolled, the result taken from my stack would describe the sort of tease she would do. If she rolled, as she did this time, the result was taken from her stack which described the sort of service I would provide.
On this occasion, before she rolled, she said she was too tired to play that night and wanted to move the play session to the next night. Then she took the dice and rolled a four. The card corresponding to a four in her stack read:
Roll 4 or 10 (Nylon is Everything)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* Take your Device off. Take the vibrator out and place it beside me. You may not touch yourself.
* I am going to tease your dick by using my stockings to lightly slap it and rub it. You will sit still while I'm doing it - or at least try to.
* When I hand you the stockings, you will put them on me and then sit with your back against the headboard.
* I will lie down in front of you and use the vibrator on myself while teasing your dick with my stockinged feet. You may not cum.
This sounded like a lot of fun - especially putting her stockings on her. There would be lots of opportunities to serve her while I was doing that. I was really looking forward to the next night.
The following night I took my regular shower. Since it was a designated day to remove my CB-6000s for cleaning (which I do every third day), I did so. When I finished, I was about to put it back on when I remembered the card's instructions that the chastity device was to be removed. I use plastic locks (she prefers not to have to deal with a key - instead, I give her a note when I am locked with the lock number on it.) and didn't want to waste one putting it on only to cut it off ten minutes later when we are in bed and starting to play by the card's instructions. This was a mistake.
When she joined me in bed, all freshly showered and smelling heavenly of body wash and a light perfume, the first thing she noticed was that my device wasn't on.
"I didn't say you could take the device off dear," she said in a serious tone.
I wasn't sure if she was joking but I responded truthfully:
"The card for the four you rolled last night said I should take my device off."
"Well, I didn't say you could take it off, so put in back on - pronto," she flicked the back of her hand towards me as though brushing me away.
"Sure honey," I replied, scrambling to put my CB device back on.
When I was back in my plastic enclosure, I climbed onto the bed eagerly looking forward to the "nylon" game on the card. It was not to be.
"I don't like having a card tell me what to do," she said with a note of anger in her voice."
"But we talked about it when I proposed it and you agreed to it," I responded, still thinking I was running the show.
"Well, I didn't know at the time that I wouldn't like it; and to tell you the truth, I hate it and won't do it. The cards are out, gone. I don't need any cards to tell me what I should do in bed."
"Of course honey," I stammered, surprised at how assertive she was. "Like you said, no more cards."
"Good, where's my friend?" she asked, referring to her favorite wand vibrator.
"I'll get - it's right here," I replied, reaching down on the floor between the bed and night stand to retrieve it.
"Okay, now lie down - you're going to get a show and I don't need any damn card to tell me how I should do it."
"Okay, okay," I said, getting the message. I laid back and watched as she pulled her black, lacy nightgown over her head, revealing those wonderful breasts of hers, still perky well into her fifties.
In a moment, she climbed on top of me, straddling my waist as she brought her hands up to her hair and ran her fingers through her long, blonde tresses, arching her back in a Marilyn Monroe type pose. Clearly, she was right. She didn't need any instruction from a card that I wrote.
"Do you like what you see, honey," she purred as she displayed herself for me.
I could only smile as I ran my fingers over her smooth thighs.
"Yes, I guess you do," she said with a giggle as she reached back and fondled my very stiff member, straining to burst out of its confines; the pressure from my erecting shaft pulling the testicle ring away from my body, pulling hard on my tender balls.
I thrust my hips up in response, bucking under her, moving her up and down several times. I felt her thighs tighten against my waist to hold on.
I reached up to touch and massage her breasts but she brushed them aside.
"There will be no touching with your hands tonight. I have other plans."
I squirmed under her, the pressure from the testicle ring getting more uncomfortable as flesh challenged plastic and lost.
"And you're staying in that device - so don't even ask to take it off," she said smiling as reached back and pushed two fingers into my sensitive perineum, finding that delightful hotspot over my prostate that made me jump.
"Okay, hon," I smiled back, not sure who this very assertive woman was who was occupying my wife's body.
She took her fingers off my sensitive spot and brought them immediately to her own pussy, running both fingers slowly up alongside the inside of her slit. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she reached the top and circled her clit, rubbing up and down along the right side of it - the place that seems to do it for her. She scooted up further on my torso, reaching my lower chest before she sat back down again, putting about half of her weight on her folded legs. I felt the pressure on my chest. I could still breathe but I had to work at it - each breath having to lift the sixty pounds or so pressing on my diaphragm.
She was totally into feeling her own pleasure. Her eyes were closed and head tilted up as she moaned, working her fingers slowly along the outside of her clitoral hood. Several times, she reached down with her middle finger and ran it up along the inner lips, picking up moisture as it went and depositing it around the outside of her clit as she rubbed it slowly. She slid a little further up on my chest as she stopped rubbing her clit long enough to reach over and find the wand vibrator - the Deluxe Brookestone model with the four speeds and the flexible head. Every ad for it shows the model using it to massage her neck. Is that really what they designed this perfect instrument to do?
The near silence was broken by the sudden buzzing sound of the vibrator on level one speed. She convulsively jerked at the first touch of the vibrator's head to her clit.
"Oh God!" she moaned as she thrust her hips up to add pressure to her swollen clit.
She spread her knees wider which opened up her pussy more but also placed more of her weight on my chest. The dark pink, smooth, inner lips of her pussy opened like petals, her vagina glistening with her juices. It only took a few minutes of vibrator action to get her rhythmically squeezing her thighs against the sides of my chest, riding me like a horse at full cantor. This vibrator has a single, electronic button, not a mechanical switch, so there is no telltale warning of a "click" when she raises the speed up a level. So we she pushed that button, there is just the sudden louder buzzing of the head, like the sound of a swarm of angry bees.
She crept a little closer to me, putting her soft, round derriere on my sternum as she continued to buck and convulse as she moved the vibrator head smoothly up along her slit before circling it around her clit. She was, as they say, completely in my face; the tips of her pubic hair brushing my chin. She was in her own world now, her face contorted in such a way that it could easily have been interpreted as pain, even torture, but I knew very well it was exquisite pleasure.
My wife is rarely multi-orgasmic, but she does have both the ability and desire to stay at an incredibly pleasurable plateau for a long time. She once described it to me as so good, she doesn't really want it to end with an even more pleasurable orgasm. It sounded a lot like my own experience with male chastity - the eventual orgasm, although incredibly pleasurable, often results in a letdown with the loss of the pleasure of what had been constant arousal and anticipation.
But, she hadn't forgotten about me. She edged closer until her pubic hair touched my lips, then thrust her hips forward to press her pussy against my mouth, the taste, scent, heat and slippery wetness sending an electric thrill racing down my spine and exploding in my groin.
"Your tongue, your tongue, fuck me with your tongue," she said desperately as she tilted her hips up further to present her opening to my mouth. She pressed the head of the wand vibrator tightly against her clit as she thrust forward trying to capture my extended tongue, the thrust pushing the head of the vibrator against the underside of my nose, stunning me momentarily.
"Yes, yes, YES!" she moaned loudly, the air hissing through her teeth as she ground herself into me.
I slipped my tongue into her hot, dripping wet hole. She convulsed in response:
"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," she kept repeating like a mantra the sound of the words separated from their meaning.
As I pulled my tongue out and thrust it in a second time, there was an almost simultaneous blast of noise. She had flicked the switch to speed the vibrator up to level three.
She was bucking and thrashing up and down as I rapidly tongue fucked her. The head of the vibrator was pressed up against my upper lip and the underside of my nose. The noise and concussion was incredible - it was splitting my head open. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand it for long but I didn't dare stop - not now, not while my honey was so close.
My solution was to tongue fuck her faster and deeper. She responded by stepping the vibrator up to its final, heading cracking, fourth speed. I felt her hand slip down behind my neck, grip me hard and jerk me up against her flailing, gyrating pussy. I was completely trapped - she had a death grip on my neck. It was like she was trying to shove my entire face into her clutching hole. I went into overdrive, like a piston engine revved up to the red line, my tongue shot in and out of her until I heard a loud gasp.
It was how my wife came when it was an A-1, over the top, head exploding, body shaking, soul numbing orgasm - a loud gasp and then an instant of absolute stillness - a moment frozen in time before all hell broke loose. This was one of those A-1 orgasms. Her first convulsion was forward, her body suddenly jack-knifing, her mid-section slamming into my face, thighs squeezed against me, before springing back up, back arched. Her entire body shaking, jerking, spasming, convulsing, her shout exploding from her body:
"Oh God, OhGGGGGGGOOOOOODDDDDDD OHGODDDDDDDDDDDD! OHGGOOOOOOOOOOODDDDD!"
Then a shriek with no words, just screams of pure, almost painfully exquisite pleasure. Her body shook and shivered; her chest heaved rapidly in a desperate bid to pull in enough air to feed her frenzy. Then she fell forward on top of me as though she had been shot. My mouth was still buried in her pussy, her wet torso wrapped around my face. She was completely still, except for the heaving chest and the rapid thrum of her heartbeat.
Between her weight on my chest and her groin pressed against my nose and mouth, I was having trouble breathing but I refused to move. I didn't want to spoil this blissful moment for her when all of those wonderful endorphins were flooding her brain, giving her a feeling of absolute fulfillment. She would have to make the first move. After several minutes, she did, raising herself from my face before rolling off of me with a loud sigh of contentment. She cuddled up close to me and wedged the side of her face under my chin, against my neck. Her hair was wet from the perspiration of her efforts. She was gone - not asleep, but not awake either. She was in a different state from either of those. She was in a state of bliss.
We lay like that for some time before I felt her rouse and move. She sat up, turned towards me and paused for a moment before leaning over and cupping my face with her soft hands. She leaned over and kissed me. It was not a kiss of passion. It was slow, soft and gentle - just a meeting of the lips as she stroked my cheeks with her thumbs. It was a kiss of deep appreciation - an appreciation that went beyond me and my efforts. It was an appreciation for us, for our relationship, for what made it possible for us to experience these increasingly frequent moments of absolute bliss. They had been so rare before in both of our lives.
She broke the kiss but stayed close, her faces just inches from mine.
"Are you sure you're okay with this - with me cumming and you not. I still feel kind of guilty about it," she said looking away from me and down at my groin where my still grotesquely swollen and contorted cock and balls strained against the confining chastity device.
"Don't feel guilty - never feel guilty about taking your pleasure. I feel completely satisfied and grateful I can give you this gift. For me, it's all good, whether or not I actually get to cum."
She looked back, eyes locked onto mine.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, hon, I'm sure. I'm very, very sure."
She looked at me quizzically, one eyebrow arched like Star Trek's Mr. Spock before he would say "curious."
"I must be the luckiest woman on earth."
"Yes you are," I laughed. And I'm the luckiest man. It's amazing that we found each other and even more amazing that we found this after so many years together."
"Yes, I have to agree - you are the luckiest man on earth," she laughed, shaking her head as she rose from the bed, headed for the shower.
And I am; She is; We are.
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