Sunday, February 26, 2012

Romancing Milady B

Well, so much for posting again in a couple of weeks. The passage of time continues to accelerate. A month now goes by like a week. I suppose that is a good sign for how happy I am in my life. I can remember many periods in which I was miserable and time just seemed to crawl by. I have entered life's sweet spot and I hope I can stay here for whatever time remains to me.

In my last post, I said I would write about the remainder of our Thanksgiving weekend. It was fabulous on every level. After three weeks of chastity, Milady finally released me after more than an hour of tease and denial that involved numerous brief forays of intercourse in which she controlled the depth of penetration (often, excruciatingly only allowing the head to pass through her portal), all motion (often, she remained still or just slightly rotated her hips) and of course the duration for each time I was allowed in.

The final explosion was mind blowing - a full body orgasm that had me shaking and quivering with pleasure long after the main orgasmic contractions subsided. For one of the few times in the last six months, Milady had me cum first. I remained hard after my orgasm (no mean feat for a 50's gent) and she used me like a dildo, plunging me in when her wand vibrator had just pushed her over the top.

Two days later, after we returned home and while I was still out of my device (at her direction), Milady initiated another play session. She gave every indication that I would be allowed to reach release. She orgasmed first, using me in a rear position to rub her slit with my hard dick and plunge it into herself. When she was finished, she just smiled and said we were done. Then, for the first time, actually directed me to put my chastity device back on. The two year journey from "Vanilla Land" to full-on FLR male chastity lifestyle was complete. I felt like I had won the lottery.

Since then, we have played often. In the last two months her orgasms have outnumbered mine by about three to one. Milady now has no difficulty denying me and feels comfortable keeping me in my device while I give her a Lady's Night, a night devoted to her pleasure. Even though her orgasms outnumber mine, she gives me lots of physical attention in the way of teases. The sleepy Sunday morning ball and perineum massage has become a regular feature of my life. There was a time when she was not comfortable touching me at all when I was in my chastity device. Boy, has that ever changed. We are in such a good place now in every aspect of our relationship.

Our latest play session illustrates this better than anything else. It began with a text message she sent me the day after St. Valentine's day - when, after a nice dinner out, I gave her a Lady's Night that included a full body massage and the happiest of endings. The text message said"

"To my darling K - your assignment for tomorrow is to meet me at the front door at 2 P.M. with a glass of champagne and small bowl of chips. You will have nothing on under your robe and you will have our bed ready for my massage. The rest will be up to me. Oh, I did say nothing under your robe, didn't I. Well, I mean nothing."

My reply was:
"Yes Milady, I am yours to command."
Her reply:
"And try to keep your dick down until then."
To which I responded:
"Oh, I'm trying Milady but I'm at 19 days since my last release and I get hard from even a stray thought of you."
She replied:
"19 days is it? You've gone 24 days before haven't you?"
"Yes Milady," I answered.
She concluded the exchange with a simple: :-)))

Well, the next day couldn't arrive fast enough. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night. The following morning, I went out and bought two bottles of her favorite Champagne and a bag of Kettle chips, her favorite. I also picked up a can of cashews and a couple of bags of peanut M&M's which she also like, just in case.
While I was shopping in the supermarket, I passed the florist department and happened to notice a single, long stemmed, red rose. Two days after St. Valentine's day, it was the only red rose there and it looked a little forlorn - the only one left behind. It looked a little past its prime - the edges of the bloom starting to darken and curl a bit. It would almost certainly have been be tossed in the trash the next day, it's life wasted; never having fulfilled its purpose of making a woman happy or at least keeping a husband or boyfriend out of trouble. As a gift, the single stemmed rose seemed, well, a little tired but it had a beautiful, full bloom with a deep, rich red color. I had another idea for it so I bought it.

Returning home, I went to work cleaning up the house. My wife is something of a clean freak and loves coming home to a clean, neat house. I did the laundry, folded it and put it away; cleaned the kitchen, leaving it shining with uncluttered countertops - just the way she likes it; then swept and vacuumed the floors and carpets. Next, I changed the sheets on our bed, making it up with crisp, white sheets and a matching comforter. My wife loves hotel sex and I think part of it is the feel and comfort of the bedding. This was the closest thing I had to it.

Next, I prepared myself. I took a long bubble bath, soaking and relaxing myself, and cleaning every square inch of me. My wife's clean freak thing applies to me too - she wants me fresh from a shower or bath whenever we play. There is something about a long, hot soak in a bath that relaxes and refreshes me. When I got out, I touched up the shave on and around my genitals, ensuring there is no stubble to irritate her. I had removed my device before the bath per her instructions to have "nothing on" under my robe when she came home so the shave was easy with the well soaked skin (I used my emergency key from the sealed envelope I have with me at all times). When I was done, I felt completely clean and presentable to my wife.

I then went about preparing the bedroom - arranging a flat pillow for her head to rest on and a slightly thicker pillow to support her ankles for the massage. I laid a thick, soft, terry cloth towel lengthwise between the two pillows to give her a warm, comfortable surface to lie on. It also served to protect the sheets from the massage oil and silicon lubricant I would use. I made one more special preparation for the bed which I will describe later. Finally, I lit the fire in our bedroom fireplace, put a James Taylor playlist into a loop on my Iphone and played it through the blue-tooth speakers (isn't technology wonderful), put the bottle of scented massage oil in a bowl of warm water and turned the lights down.

A few minutes before the appointed time of 2 P.M., I opened the Champagne and poured a generous amount into a crystal goblet. I put the glass in the fridge and put the open Champagne in an ice bucket. I then opened the bag of chips and poured some into a small, crystal bowl. I placed the bowl of chips on a small, round, crystal tray and brought the tray to the foyer, placing it on a small shelf by the front door. Then, I took a position by an upstairs window where I could see her car approaching.

I could hardly contain my excitement as I waited for her. My fiercely, hard erection made a tent out of the terry cloth robe I was wearing. The appointed hour came and went without her car appearing. This was not unusual - my wife didn't worry too much about being on time where I was concerned. It occurred to me that she might be late on purpose to build even more excitement and anticipation. If she did, it was working beautifully.

Finally, at a quarter after the hour, she drove up. I quickly scurried downstairs, got the glass of Champagne from the fridge and brought out to the foyer, placing it on the tray with the chips. Then I took the tray and sat on the third step of the stairs facing the front door. When I heard the key in the lock, I bowed my head low and raised my arms up presenting the tray to her as she walked in.

"Your Champagne and chips Milady," I said in my best servant fashion with a little British accent to lend a touch of formality to it.
"You do follow instructions well," she said smiling, walking over to the proffered tray and taking the chilled, crystal goblet.
I looked back up from my head bow and smiled - "Yes Milady, I do."
She smiled back, looked down at where my robe had fallen open:
"And it looks like you're happy to see me," she said, looking down at the head of my cock that was poking through the open front of my robe.
"Yes Milady, very happy," I laughed.
"Come, let's sit for a while and talk. I'm bushed - it was a tough morning."

I followed her into the den where she took a seat on the couch. I sat down next to her. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked about her day, taking sips of her Champagne as she unwound, telling me all about it. I listened attentively, repeating back small parts of her story to show I was listening (it's called "active listening") and reflecting back her emotions as she told the story.

After a few minutes, she slid her shoes off and sat back in the corner of the couch, swinging her legs up and resting them on my lap. She often did this when we watched television in the den - it was a very natural position for both of us. As she continued to talk and sip the Champagne, I began massaging her feet through her stockings, working on the soles of her feet with both thumbs, moving and rubbing in opposite circles.

She continued talking, segueing from work to talk about her friends and the problems they were having. I continued to listen actively, repeating small bits or saying "uh-huh" at appropriate times. She drained her glass while half way through a story about the problems one of her girlfriends was having with her husband when she motioned towards me with the empty glass - her signal she wanted a refill. As I got up to get the bottle of Champagne, she took a handful of chips and gobbled them down. Returning with the ice bucket and Champagne, I refilled her glass, returned to my seat, placed her feet on my lap and continued massaging them as she continued the story.

She talked for over an hour, sipping Champagne and munching on chips. She moved easily from friend to friend, then talked about relatives as I refilled her goblet a second time. When she had finished her third glass of Champagne, she took a deep breath and said:

"Well, we better get upstairs before I fall asleep."

I stood first and then took her hand, helping her up from the couch. She smiled as she leaned into me. She wobbled a bit but I held her close to me. With my arms around her waist, she slid one hand under my robe and checked me out. It felt so good to feel her cool, smooth hand on my cock and balls. I had been in my device for almost three weeks. She rubbed and squeezed me gently, smiling and cooing.

"You have been so good, so patient listening to me. I think it's time you got your reward."

She kissed me, gently at first and then more urgently. We exchanged tongues as we explored each other's mouths. She slipped both hands under my robe and ran them up along my ribs to my arm pits then across my chest. As she passed over my nipples, I quivered a bit, growing weak in the knees. My nipples hardened in response. She played with them as I pulled her tightly to me, reaching under the waistband of her skirt and finding those incredibly hard, tight buns of hers.

She broke the kiss first and took my hand, saying "C'mon, follow me."

She led the way up the stairs still holding my hand. When we reached the top of the stairs, she opened our bedroom door, took one step in and gasped loudly, her hand going to her open mouth. In addition to the lighted fireplace, soft music and bed made up and ready for her massage, she saw the rose petals I had spread across the bed - the petals from that last, forlorn rose I had come across and bought that morning.

"Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh My God! What did you do? What did you do? I can't believe it, I can't believe it!" she squealed in delight doubling over laughing with such pleasure and excitement you would have thought she had just won the lottery or I had handed her the keys to a new BMW.

"You are so romantic! I can't believe you did this for me!" she exclaimed unable to get over the surprise and excitement she felt.

"I wanted to make it special for you. I wanted you to remember this."

"I will, I will," she said as she hugged me tightly and kissed me. "I am so lucky, so lucky," she murmured in my ear, and now it was my turn to feel the excitement of having won the lottery or being given a new car. I wanted so badly to please her and now she was saying how lucky she was to have me. I was beaming with pride and pleasure.

Now - for all you husbands and boyfriends out there, that three dollar rose got more reaction and appreciation than any gift I had ever given her and that includes some expensive jewelry over the years. Also, there was something about peeling the rose, petal by petal that was incredibly erotic. Maybe it was my nearly three weeks in chastity, but peeling that rose was like peeling open the folds of my wife's center of pleasure. Each petal soft and velvety on one side, smooth on the other; and every one delicate and deeply flushed red. The scent was sweet but not cloying or overpowering. The works of Georgia O'Keeffe would have a special meaning for me after this.

When she finally broke the long, sensual kiss, she playfully grabbed my crotch and squeezed, saying "I'll be back," as she turned and went into the bathroom. When I heard the shower come on, I finished my preparations around the bed, staging her wand vibrator close at hand and setting the warmed massage oil bottle on a hand towel. When I heard the shower stop and the shower door open and close, I knew Nirvana was getting close. I took off my robe and knelt expectantly on the bed.

My wife came out of the bathroom with a long towel wrapped around her. Her hair was damp and her face glistened. She was smiling as she approached. When she got near the bed, she began removing the towel, then made of show of it, pulling it open and turning hiding herself behind the open towel, then looking over her shoulder and smiling at me. Then she dropped the towel and scampered onto the bed, laying down on the soft, terry cloth towel covered in rose petals.

I bent low and kissed the back of her neck and then nibbled her ear as I whispered "You are so beautiful." She smiled again as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I lifted my leg and straddled her narrow waist, still on my knees, careful not to allow any of my body weight on her. I looked down at her and marveled at her magnificent body. Well into her 50's, she still had the body of a twenty-five year old and weighed a pound or two less than when we had first met more than twenty years ago. A combination of good genes, healthy eating and a regular exercise routine had kept her slim and toned.

I poured a generous amount of massage oil into the palm of my hand. It had cooled to room temperature in the hour and a half since I had placed the bottle of oil into the bowl of warm water. I rubbed my hands together several times to warm up the oil before placing my hands down flat on the middle of her back.

"Breathe deeply," I said. "Relax - let the tension go."

When she had finished exhaling, I moved my hands up the center of her back on either side of her back bone, using moderate pressure, then dug my fingers into the tense deltoid and trapezius muscles between her neck and shoulders. She sighed loudly as my fingers found the tender spots and worked them. I could see the goose bumps rising on her back and arms as I worked my way into them.

"Mmmmm, that feels so good," she murmured.

I responded by leaning over and kissing her softly on her left ear, her head turned to the side, presenting it to me.

I continued the massage, working my way down her back with my fingers until I reached her lower spine, then switched to using the heels of my hands. There is a spot in the center of her lower spine, just above her butt, that actually gives her a jolt of sexual pleasure when it is firmly massaged with the flat of my palm. I massaged that spot and she purred in response, grinding her pelvis into the mattress in small, slow circles. I stayed with this for several minutes before moving down to her butt and kneaded the firm flesh of her round globes.

I continued the massage for a good half hour, working the muscles of each leg slowly and carefully before moving on to her feet. My wife loves getting foot massages from me. I guess I've gotten pretty good at them over the last year. Amazingly, I had never given her a foot massage before that. She had never asked and it had never occurred to me to offer it. So many foot massages lost for so many years; such a terrible waste. We are here on this earth for such a short period of time. To go that long without doing something she loves to receive and I love to give seems like a tragic waste to me. I wonder how many other undiscovered simple pleasures are still out there.

When I finished with each foot, I placed it gently back down on the foot pillow. I rested for a few moments and just took in the sight of my wife lying very still. Her breathing was slow. She was in that totally relaxed state that hovered between sleep and a trance like state. I moved back up towards her head, still turned sideways on the pillow. I bent over, kissed her gently on the ear again and whispered: "It's time to turn over. I'll help you."

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me quizzically, not quite understanding what I had said.

"It's time to turn over Hon," I whispered as I stroked her hair gently.

As she started to turn over, I placed one hand under her and helped lift and guide her onto her back. She finished turning over and was on her back when I looked down at her and saw rose petals clinging to her body. An image of a poster from the movie "American Beauty" flashed into my mind. I didn't bother to brush them off. In fact, I kind of liked them clinging to her.

Her eyes were closed and she was still breathing slowly and deeply; still in that trance like state. I oiled my hands, rubbed them together and began massaging the side and front of her neck, moving down to her upper chest. I added a little more oil to my hands and moved them down to her breasts, gently massaging them. Again, she purred in pleasure and satisfaction as I gently rolled her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I could feel them swell and harden in my fingers.

I slid back down her body until I was straddling her knees and then carefully moved my legs inside of hers spreading her legs a little to make room for me. I continued my massage of her breasts, ribs and mid-section, using my thumbs to gently massage the underside of her breasts. I marveled at how firm her breasts still were. They were completely natural but amazingly still stood up on their own; a testament to the regular weight training she did.

I backed up further and then slid my knees back until I was on my belly between her legs. I waited a moment just soaking up all of the inputs from my senses. She had had a bikini wax the day before so her pubic mound displayed a perfectly trimmed triangle of downy, blonde hair. Her nether lips were ever so slightly parted. I gently opened them further with my thumbs and gave her a long, slow, lengthwise lick from the bottom of her slit to the very top, lingering at the top to apply just a little pressure with my tongue to the side of her clit before retracing my path. She shuddered in response, then drew her legs up until her feet were flat on the terry cloth towel covered mattress, and spread her legs to give me more access.

I went to work - I say work but giving my wife oral is a work of joy and pleasure for me. I worked my tongue in long, slow circles around the length of her vagina, using the tip of my tongue to open and unfold her - like the petals of that rose. She tasted so clean and fresh, yet still had the familiar musky taste and aroma that I loved having on my tongue and fingertips, to enjoy long after we had made love.

After several minutes of gentle, slow licks I began adding a little speed and varying the pressure, stopping to dig a little into her love tunnel and lingering longer at the top to lave her hood covered clit. As I began to pay more attention to her clit, I could feel the tension increase in her thighs and saw her fingers grip the edges of the towel she was lying on. It wasn't long before she was thrusting her hips up to meet my searching tongue. I continued licking her and gently sucking on her labia, using my tongue to search out her tunnel.

When she began whimpering and thrashing her head back and forth, I migrated north and began circling her clit in a slow, steady fashion. Often, in the past, when she had reached this point of arousal, she plateaued and got impatient; calling for her wand vibrator to finish herself off. This time she didn't. I didn't want to disappoint her, so I continued what I was doing, seeing she was getting more and more aroused.

When the grunting and abdominal spasms began, I knew she was getting close. It was time for more direct pressure on her clit and to add a little finger stimulation. The circles my tongue was making around her clit got small and faster and I slowly inserted my middle finger into her pussy up to the second knuckle, reached up to the roof of her tunnel and found the ridged, spongy material of her g-spot. As soon as I applied just a modest amount of pressure on it, my wife made a loud, gasping sound and began panting, thrusting her hips up to meet my tongue. I made small circles on the spongy roof and used my lips to surround her clit. Gently, I sucked on it.

My wife exploded in orgasm, screaming "Yes! Yes! Yessssssssss!" as she gripped the back of my head with both hands pulling me tightly to her pussy as she ground her crotch into my face. I could feel the warm, wetness inside of her as she orgasmed - trying as best I could to stay on that sweet spot of hers and keep her cumming. The hips thrusts finally slowed and she exhaled with a loud "Ahhhhhh." I felt the tension in her thighs release and the death grip she had on the back of my head let go. Her knees fell outward before dropping to the mattress as her feet slid until her legs were flat on the bed.

"Oh god - that was so good, soooooo gooooood," she sighed in a whisper.

I slid back up her perspiration slick body and kissed her before sliding beside her. I'm sure she could taste herself on my lips but she said nothing about it as she purred in contentment and snuggled up close to me. She was still breathing rapidly, trying to catch her breath as she took my hand with both of her and held it tightly to her chest. I felt her heart pounding. In the dimming light of the late afternoon, I saw her face and neck flushed a dark pink.

She closed her eyes and rested, her heart beat slowing and her breathing becoming more regular. I wasn't sure If we were done. I was pretty sure that when she made the date she intended for me to get a release but after the Champagne and massive orgasm of her own, perhaps she didn't have the strength to continue. At one level I was disappointed at not getting a chance to cum, but at another, more profound level, I was so pleased and proud of the pleasure I had given my wife, that my own orgasm didn't really matter much.

[This ends the first part. Part 2 of this will be posted in a few days.]


  1. Wonderful, simply wonderful! Your total sense of joy at giving her such pleasure is a beautiful thing. Lovely writing.

  2. Thank you Lady Grey. The joy is total and I'm glad it comes through in my writing


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