Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A Great Leap Forward



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:


Total Confusion

Shocked

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]

Cautiously curious

Grudging acceptance

Enthusiastic participant

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 . . . )

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Natural Lust Cycles and a Thought Experiment

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Another Nice Breakthrough

Another Nice Breakthrough

Sorry to have left you hanging for so long - it was a busy holiday period. My last blog entry left off with an upcoming test of the Lori model 12B in action during a “drawing.” For those of you not familiar with the “drawing” ceremony we have, basically it consists of my wife drawing a marble from a velvet sack after we’ve done a little making out and some teasing by both of us - mainly with our fingers. The sack begins with seven black marbles and one white marble. My wife draws a marble from the sack. If it is black, nothing happens - we draw again day after next and the drawn black marble is kept out of the sack for the next drawing; so the count for the next drawing is then six black and one white marble. This continues every other night until she selects a white marble. Once the white marble is selected by her, the clock starts and sometime within the next five days (120 hrs.) I will be allowed to orgasm at a time, place and method of her choice. She need not tell me when in advance and, in fact, can “fake me out,” i.e. lead me to think that a particular get together will be the time for it and then deny me as long as she eventually allows me to cum within that five day period.

We have been doing the marble drawing for a few months now, experimenting with the drawing periodicity and the numbers of black and white marbles but with basically the same dynamic: black marble selected means no imminent orgasm and pick again in two days; white marble means imminent orgasm - a matter of days. It has worked wonderfully for us - providing us with a dedicated time to get together for some sexual play every other night and keeping my wife’s head and passion in the game; not to mention some really incredibly explosive, passionate, uber-satisfying sex when I am finally allowed to release. A couple of things I should mention for those who have not read my previous blog entries:

First, I noticed that my wife had an unusual degree of prescience when it came to selecting the white marble - she seemed to know ahead of time when she was going to pick it even though it was, or was supposed to be, a “blind drawing.” She began doing all of the things I have known her to do in preparation for full on sex before the drawing was held. Later, checking the marble, I found she had doctored the white marble with something that gave it a rough texture, easily distinguishable from the smooth black marbles it was with. My guess is she used a clear nail polish in streaks on it. But, far from being angry about the deception, I was delighted by it. She had taken control of my orgasm which was the important thing for me. The deception was simply to give her cover so she felt comfortable doing it which was perfectly okay with me. It also gave her the freedom to experiment on her own about how and when she would allow me to cum.

Second, although I had often told her (and written in notes to her) that it was perfectly okay to fake me out - let me think it was my night for orgasm and then “change her mind” after she had her orgasm - i.e. leave me hanging. I also let her know as subtly as I could that I would like to try that experience. But, to date, she had never done that. She stubbornly held onto the belief that men, once aroused, had to be allowed to cum. To do otherwise would be painful/harmful to them and would make me angry at her for being a “prick tease,” (yes, she used that phrase) whatever I said beforehand about wanting that. She said she loved me and never wanted to cause me pain or harm. I didn’t push it any harder, feeling that if I did it would ruin it for me if it did happen since I would be the one denying myself, not her.

So, with that as a background, I put on my Lori model 12B complete with locking pin, lock and rubber cap and casually watched her as she went through the familiar routine she followed when she was going to have sex - lengthy shower but without washing or wetting her hair, her favorite Victoria’s Secret body lotion that gave her that wonderfully fragrant, sexy scent, and putting on one of her sheerer, more revealing nightgowns instead of her usual wintertime flannel nightgown. I could see a white marble and immediate sex in my future.

I lit the scented candles, put on the soft music and gathered various lotions, offering to give her a foot massage, which she readily accepted. She laid down diagonally across the bed (she is tall and must lie diagonally if I am to have room to sit up against the headboard of our bed and be able to massage her feet and lower legs in my lap. In the candlelight, my wife’s body looked luscious through her sheer nightgown. I had pre-warmed the massage lotion in a bowl of hot water so it was just warmer than body temperature when I removed it from the bowl and squeezed out a generous portion in my palm. Gently lifting her leg by the ankle, I moved it so her foot rested on my crossed legs, the bottom of her foot grazing the head of my dick imprisoned in the penis ring of the Lori 12B and pointed down, my already semi-hard shaft rapidly inflating and hardening, further pressuring my exposed, vulnerable balls sticking out on either side of the shaft and pressed against my inner thighs.

With the back of her ankle resting against the inside of my crossed lower legs, I rubbed my hands together to spread the warm lotion out and then gently grasped her foot with both hands, one holding the heel of her foot for support, the other the sole, thumb up around the balls of her foot. I began the massage with gentle circles, using my thumb to work the lotion into the calloused balls of her foot, moving up to massage the much softer skin in the area just below her toes. She emitted a low sigh of relief and pleasure as I worked my thumb in continuous circles, working my way across the upper part of her foot. I could feel the tension leave her leg as she relaxed and let the full weight of it be supported by my crossed legs and cupped, supporting hand. After a few minutes of working my thumb across the upper part of the sole in small circles, she turned her face to the side to locate the silk, padded eye cover she liked to wear when I massaged her. Even though the room was very dim, lit only by three small candles, she liked to close her eyes and have it completely dark so she could lose herself in the touch of my hands without the distraction of light.

As I released her foot to reach over for more lotion, I felt her foot come alive in my lap and start to playfully reach for and graze my trapped penis, moving the lotion covered sole of her foot over the head and top of my penis shaft, I felt a strong bolt of pleasure course through me.

“Oh my,” she whispered in a husky voice, “you seem to be getting hard. Are you alright,” she said with a little bit of a giggle, seeming to be pleased and well satisfied at the effect she was having on me.

“I’m fine dear,” I replied - “Just fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. My dick was about as engorged as the metal, 12B chastity device would allow, which was surprisingly almost fully engorged. The one and one eighth inch diameter penis ring, reduced in size further by the locking pin and underside spikes (studs) which had firmly, yet comfortable held my flaccid penis in place, was now unforgivingly digging deeply into the top of my almost rigid shaft, just behind the head; the studs buried deeply into the sensitive underside of my shaft on either side of the urethral canal. Immediately I knew this was going to be a race against time - how long would it take me to pleasure my wife against the amount of time I could endure the pain of the stainless steel curve of the penis ring digging into my shaft.

I tried not to let the growing pain in my dick speed up my massage but no doubt it did. I worked my warm, lotion covered index fingers into the gaps between her toes, one at a time, plunging it slowly in and then withdrawing it in an ill disguised imitation of fucking. The message was not lost on my wife who seemed to be further aroused by it - I felt her squeeze her upper thighs together and shudder at the effect. I finished “penetrating” the gaps between her toes and then began gently pulling on each toe as I massaged the base of each digit. Then with both lubricated hands, began kneading and massaging the heel and middle sole of her foot, sides and across the top, finishing the massage of that foot with a gentle rub and manipulation of her ankle. I worked my hands up her calf and began a firm but gentle massage of her lower leg, up to the knee and back down. After I was finished with that foot and lower leg, I gently placed it back down on the towel covered mattress and went to work on her other foot and lower leg.

About ten minutes later, I finished the foot massage, and knew, with the insistent pain of my steel strangled dick that I had to move this along. With my wife thoroughly relaxed and almost limp, I gently grasped both of her ankles and, placing her feet flat on the mattress, slid her legs back as I unfolded my legs and leaned forward on my chest and belly, my lotion covered hands sliding up her legs, moving her nightgown up until it was bunched up around her waist. I think my wife knew what was coming next as I felt her legs relax and her knees spread out on either side of me. Cupping the little, round bottom of her ass cheeks in my palms, I used my thumbs to gently spread open her nether lips and dipped my head low to start at the very bottom, below her slit, and with relaxed tongue slowly swiped upward, inside her inner labia, stopping at her opening and dipping the tip of my tongue in before continuing up to the apex and the engorged bud that was just peeking out from its hood. Rather than licking it directly, I went around it several times with just the tip of my tongue before gently pressing my lips around it.

My wife squirmed under my tongue, moaning in pleasure as I felt her fingers combing through the thick, wavy hair at the back of my head as she pulled and held me where she wanted me. I did a second, third and fourth long, slow swipe, each time applying just a little more pressure with my lips as they surrounded and kissed her clit. I had almost forgotten about the pain in my dick until she snaked her foot down under my hip and found the poor, trapped fellow. Giving it a few swipes with her foot, probably not realizing just how much pain I was in and how much more pain those few swipes of her foot caused me as my dick was getting grotesquely distorted by the steel that was deeply embedded in the shaft, the purple head crying pre-cum tears for relief. Rapidly overtaking the pain in my dick was the growing ache in my trapped balls from her flicking foot and the sheer pressure of my engorged manhood pressing them against my thighs and the steel rim of the testicle ring.

I knew I couldn’t continue this for much longer but I desperately wanted to avoid crying “uncle” from the very chastity device I was trying to get her to accept. To speed things up a bit, I reached for and found the wand vibrator that she loves, pulled my face away and applied it to her slit. She literally jumped in immediate reaction to the bolt of pleasure that hit her from the first touch. I also think she has an almost Pavlovian reaction to the sound of the vibrator from all of the pleasure it has given her in the past. Just turning it on gets her juices flowing. I moved it slowly, up and down her slit, hearing her gasp and suck in her breath when I lightly grazed her clit before moving it back down and around her inner thighs; teasing her in the way I love to be teased by taking her right to edge and then moving off.

Her hand went to the handle of the vibrator, at first guiding me to where she wanted it and then just taking it from, hissing “get out of that thing - I want you in me when I cum.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I fairly leaped up out of bed, found the key ring and then fumbled through the mass of keys in the dim light to find the oddly shaped hexagonal key to fit the 12B lock. Finding the key, I held it in one hand as I felt for the rubber cap over the lock to remove it so the key could go in. With fingers slippery from the lotion, it was difficult getting the tight cap off. The fun was just beginning.

Okay, so here I am, my wife moaning in pleasure from the ministrations of her favorite vibrator, waiting for me to enter her to fuck her after more than two weeks of complete orgasmic abstinence - and me with a fully engorged but steel strangled cock bursting itself to be free and me fumbling to hold a small, odd shaped key with slippery fingers while trying to find the tiny slot the key must line up with, all in the dim light of a candle. My first thought was - “wow, this is going to be tough;” my second thought was “note to self - take the stupid lock off before playtime - a bit of tape over the locking pin resting slot is sufficient to hold it in place.”

Okay, by trial and error, I finally find the small line up slot and insert the key, just as I hear my wife say: “So, are you coming back any time soon?”

“Yes dear, in a moment,” I reply, not at all convinced by my own time estimate.

Now the real fun part - to open the lock, one must hold the key firmly while turning while at the same time holding the body of the lock in place so the key turns within it. With the fingers of both hands slick from the very slippery massage lotion, I had no chance - none of doing that, especially in my state of fever pitched arousal and screamingly painful cock and balls. After a half dozen fumbled tries, it finally occurred to me that I needed to wipe the lotion off my fingers; frantically, I did so with a nearby towel. Moments after that epiphany, I had the lock off, the locking pin and finally, joyously, my dick slid free of its steel straightjacket. Quickly, I slid back into bed, my wife guiding me into the “crossing the T” position she preferred when she wanted me inside her as she brought herself off with the vibrator.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said with equal measures of humor and sarcasm.


I answered not with words but with deeds as I slid my hips under her legs, facing her as she lay on her back, the vibrator never leaving her slit for a moment. With her thighs draped over my hip, I slid closer to her until the tip of my dick just reached the soft, downy covered lips of her now very wet pussy. Using my hand to guide the shaft, I slid further until I was just about to enter her. With her free hand she brushed mine away off my shaft.

“Let me, let me,” she said as her fingers wrapped around my pulsing, engorged shaft and pulled on it insistently.

As she moved it down towards the bottom of her slit I started to thrust forward seeking that warm, wet tunnel I knew so well and, at this point, craved beyond belief.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said a little louder, a definite edge in her voice.

I obeyed immediately, relaxed and remained motionless, letting her take complete control. I felt her fingers massage my shaft, then the head of my dick, almost cumming but holding back, not wanting to spoil it for her. It took all of my breathing and PC muscle control techniques to fight back the almost overwhelming urge to cum. She rubbed me up and down her slit, alternating the feel of my dick head and that of the vibrator on her clit. I knew she was close, very close when her knees drew back and spread themselves wide, opening herself up completely. With her hips thrusting up, she drove my dick into her pussy in one spasmodic jerk of her arm as though she was stabbing herself.

“Now, fuck me,” she said. “Do it fast and hard.”

I responded immediately, revving up to speed like a well-oiled machine, piston thrusting in and out just as fast and hard as I could go. In less than a minute, she exploded, screaming and bucking like a possessed, insane teenager. She bucked and thrashed wildly, the heels of her feet pounding my back as she flailed in total abandon, one loud, repetitive chant of “Ohhhhhh goooddddddddd Ohhhhhhhhh godddddddd Ohhhhhh gooooodddddd!” bursting from her lips. I continued to breathe deeply and fought the instinctive urge to contract my PC muscles - the thing that triggers in orgasm.

After what seemed like minutes, she slowed down and then stopped completely. She went completely limp, legs splayed out - one over my thigh, the other over my upper arm, both arms lay limp on the mattress, one hand still holding the vibrator, the buzz still filling my ears. Slowly, she seemed to come to, first turning off the vibrator, then laughing as she whispered:

“That was unbelievable - just unbelievable - never felt anything like that.”

“I know - I was there. I had an absolute ball watching you, feeling you explode,” I said as I began moving my hips slowly, my rigid cock still embedded in her tunnel starting to slowly piston in and out like the slow start of an engine just starting to roll over. She looked at me for a moment, just a moment before she said:


“I’m going to be a bitch tonight,” so nothing for you - you’ll have to wait.”

There was silence; She was looking at me, testing me, seeing what my reaction was going to be. It was like watching somebody put a foot out on the frozen surface of a pond to test the ice. As much as I desperately wanted to cum by this point, I also knew that these next few moments would determine whether she would attempt to do a heavy tease and denial again. And I craved this kind of tease and denial - craved it even more than I wanted to orgasm at that moment.

“Okay hon - that’s fine,” I said, my voice still shaky from the adrenaline coursing through me getting my body ready to explode in orgasmic relief.

“You know, it’s what you asked for,” she said, her voice rising in that sing-song way used to denote humorous sarcasm.

“Yes, yes, I know, I know,” I said trying not to sound too glum.

“Be careful what you ask for dear . . . ,” she said, laughing, me chuckling along with her as my body started to realize that I really, really wasn’t going to cum. That she wasn’t joking or just testing me.

A Postscript

The next morning, before we got dressed, I gave her a hug and thanked her for having the courage to step outside of the box and try something new. She said she loved it - that she had the best sex ever and was starting to understand what this was all about.
I couldn’t stop grinning - you know, one of those Andy Griffith “ear to ear” jobs. At that moment, the feeling of love and devotion towards my wife was overwhelmingly intense. At that moment, I would have done anything for her. And I still would

A Postscript to the Postscript

Two nights later, three nights after she had selected the white marble, I was watching some football highlights while sitting on the couch in the den eating an ice cream pop, when my wife came in, still wearing the slacks and top she wore to work, knelt down beside my leg, unsnapped my jeans, slid my zipper down, pulled down the waistband of my underwear until it cleared my CB-6000s covered dick, opened the special key locket I had given her that was around her neck, took out the key, unlocked the lock holding the tube on, removed the tube and then, using thumb and finger, grasped my very flaccid cock and wiggled it back and forth.

“How’s the little guy doing. Is he ready for some action?”

Before I could answer, she turned her face down, opened her mouth and took all of it between her sweet lips. Here I am, in what must be a wet dream, on my couch, the football highlights still blaring from the TV and my half-eaten ice-cream pop (vanilla!) in my hand. I managed to reach the remote to turn off the TV but had no place to put the ice-cream so, in an inspired moment, I fed it to her - she alternated licking and sucking my cock with licking and sucking the ice cream. After the ice cream her lips felt cold on my quickly rising and rigid cock but they warmed up quickly and it was fun watching her giggle as she ate me. For just a moment, I reflected on how far we had come (cum) in less than year in reigniting our sexual relationship and our total relationship. It was more than I ever could have hoped for when I started this chastity lifestyle experiment some eleven months ago.

After a few more minutes of delicious ice cream and cock, she rose up, kneeled beside me on the couch and gave me the most passionate kiss I could remember, the taste of vanilla ice cream still on her lips; then she led me by the hand to our bedroom where she stripped the rest of my clothes off me, removed her own, then climbed on top of me and rode me to the most exquisitely, pleasurable, explosive orgasm ever - and that’s saying a lot, given the last eight months of fabulous sex we have had.

Monday, November 15, 2010

A New Chastity Device

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Marble Game Takes An Interesting Turn

It has been about five weeks since my last post. In this previous post I described a game of chance I had devised to get my wife involved more in my chastity, including having her control the actual date and time of my orgasm. You may want to re-read my last post to refresh your memory (and enjoy the description of some very hot hotel sex), but the gist of the game rules was:

1. A one week cooling off period in which I received no or minimal sexual stimulation after my last orgasm, with a major tease period at the end of that first week.

2. Use of a random chance game after that first week to determine the general period of when my next orgasm would occur. This consisted of her drawing a marble from a sack containing 5 black and 1 white marble initially. Selection of a black marble meant no orgasm for me and another drawing in two days, with then 4 black marbles and 1 white marble - the drawings continuing like this until the white marble is selected.

3. When the white marble is selected, I get to cum within 3 days with the exact time within those three days determined by my wife. She was encouraged to "fake me out" once or twice, making me think some sexual play was going to lead to orgasm but then refusing me at the last moment. This meant I had to ask her permission before cumming.

4. The marble drawing was done in a romantic setting - at night (usually before we went to sleep), scented candles and soft music. The drawing to be preceded by some sexual play by both of us, with her teasing me.

So - how well did this work out? Some things worked and some things didn't. But, there was one very interesting discovery made along the way.

The first round went reasonably well except during the one week cooling off period when we were supposed to do some non-sexual touching, communication and cuddling - well, those things never happened. We would sit on the couch and watch TV together for a half hour or so, perhaps hold hands (if I initiated it) but that was about it. Without the hard date to do a drawing, she never got into any sort of romantic mood. After the one week cooling off period, I gave her a "Lady's Night," which consisted of an hour and a half of a full body massage with a happy ending provided with my tongue, fingers and her favorite wand vibrator. She enjoyed it but was not demonstrative in her joy, pretty much just taking a quick shower and going to sleep with almost no touching or communication afterward.

The white marble was selected by her at the fourth drawing which is about what probability would predict. The previous drawings were preceded by some nice romantic cuddling, kissing and general making out and some direct touching and teasing of my genitals while still locked up. Early in the "make-outs" she made it clear that she wanted nothing more than kissing in terms of stimulation. Her response each time of "I'm fine" when I would try to arouse her was a clear message of "hands off."

When she selected the white marble, she made it clear that she wanted to have sex immediately, not wait or tease me over three days. She had me remove the chastity device (she still doesn't like touching it) and we had conventional "at home" sex. It was very good for both of, with good, satisfying orgasms for both of us although not of the earth-shattering variety experienced the last time during our hotel adventure.

The second round's cooling off week went pretty much like the first with little or no affectionate contact without a drawing. This time, preceding the first drawing, she gave me about ten minutes of teasing and external prostate massage with my device still on before she drew. Incredibly, she beat the odds and drew a white marble the first time and let me know that there would be no wait. Instead of our regular, "at home" sex, she let tme know that she prefered to give me a hand job rather than have intercourse. She said she wanted to see me cum. It was good for a hand job but not great, not nearly as satisfying as intercourse and she demurred when I tried to reciprocate afterward. It had the feeling of "get it out of the way" sex which felt alot like our pre-chastity sex and not very satisfying on either an emotional or physical level.

Having gone two rounds with one week cooling off periods that did nothing for me or us in terms of bonding, I suggested we change the rules for the third round, having only a 4 day cooling off period but with an additional black marble added to the mix and her discretion after selecting a white marble extended to 4 days. I figured the intimate contact (the only contact) seemed to happen only when we had a reason to focus on each other like when we got together for a drawing.

This new timing seemed to work better. After four days we got together for our little drawing ceremony which was preceded by my giving her a really good foot massage with coconut oil scented lotion. She selected a black marble on this first drawing. Two days later, after more than usual primping and preparation of herself, we got together and, after about ten minutes of some very good teasing, we did the drawing. She drew a white marble - again beating the odds of selecting the one white marble from among five black ones. She let me know that there would be no delay - she was thoroughly ready for and wanted some hot passionate sex. And so we did.

We went at it passionately for more than an hour. She seemed to take control, starting out with me using my fingers and tongue on her and she using her wand massager. When I moved to enter her, "crossing the T," she said "I didn't say you could enter me." Wow, that totally blew my mind - she had never exercised that kind of control before. She was really getting into the role.

After a lot of stimulation and massager action, she came in a long series of powerful orgasms - each seeming to be the end but as she kept the vibrator pressed to her clit, I continued my ministrations as well, only to be rewarded by the sight and sound of her cumming again. When she was done cumming, she climbed on top of me, straddling my torso and then slid her way up until her shins were on my shoulders. I didn't need any further direction, pulling her glistening wet pussy to my lips and licking her gently, staying away from what I knew must be an overly sensitive clit after her orgasms, tasting her juices from every fold of her pink flesh. She began shuddering and I could feel the contractions of her tunnel through my lips. She reached around behind my head with both hands and pressed my face into her, holding me there until the shuddering subsided.

Afer she came this final time, she collapsed over me, panting, her face and hair wet with perspiration. Then she slid her body down over mine until her groin was pressed into mine. Then, she reached around and grasped my incredibly hard shaft and placed the head of my cock right at her entrance and held me there, brushing it slowly around her hole before plunging me in, sliding her body down over mine to penetrate herself to the hilt. She withdrew it to the very edge and then plunged herself down on me again, the sweat from both of our bodies lubricating her as she slid up and down on me. She did this a half a dozen times bringing me to that exquisite razor's edge of orgasmic explosion. I asked her if I could cum. "Yes, now," was all she replied. I didn't need anything more.

It was one of those white hot, almost painfully pleasurable explosions in which it felt the inside of my groin fairly erupted through my dick like Mount St. Helens going off. With both hands I gripped her deliciously soft, round buns and pressed her down on me as I thrust wildly into her, shooting hot cum with every maniacal thrust in. Finally, I went limp, my hands seeming to lose all strength, my arms suddenly so heavey I couldn't keep them wrapped around her. They flopped down on the mattress and it seemed for a few moments that I was floating upward.

We fell asleep or passed out like that, her on top of me, her arms wrapped around my neck, the side of her face pressed into mine. I don't know how long we were gone. When I finally came back to life, I felt cold - the overhead fan moving air over my sweat soaked, naked body and I heard the shower going over the sound of the still playing music. I must have fallen back asleep before she returned from her shower because I have no memory of anything until the next morning.

It was an experience that was at least equal to the earlier hotel "mini-honeymoon." Afterwards, I thought about what made the difference between that experience and the unsatisfying hand job the previous time and the answer was obvious - it was my wife's mood, attitude and passion since everything else was pretty much the same - same chastity device, same period between orgasms. It was her response that was the essential complement to the chastity device and routine that made the male chastity lifestyle such a powerful force in our relationship.

The title of this blog entry is "The Marble Game Takes An Interesting Turn." First, because of the incredibly pleasurable experience we both had while playing the game; but even more importantly, second - because of something I discovered about my wife's attitude towards "control." You see, after she beat 5 to 1 odds twice in a row, selecting the one white marble in the presence of five black ones, I checked the marbles. Now beating those odds twice in a row is not "winning the lottery," unlikely - it's about 2.5% or two and half chances out of a hundred. But, there was something else - something that only I would notice after a long marriage to my wife. I noticed that prior to the second drawing, she did all of the primping and preparing that she would do prior to having sex. Now, why would she do this unless she knew ahead of time that she would select a white marble and then could decide to have sex immediately.

So, I checked the marbles in the bag. The black ones looked and felt normal. The white one looked normal, but picking it up by itself, I felt something gritty on its surface. Feeling the white marble, it was clearly different than the black ones. It explained my wife's "amazing luck," not to mention the amount of time she would take as she fished around the bag while selecting a marble. There was no other explanation - she had doctored the white marble so she could distinguish it from the black ones and select or not select it when she chose.

Instead of being angry over the apparent cheating, I was delighted by this turn of events. It meant she wanted control over my orgasm - but she wanted to keep her controling hand hidden. It was perfect - even more than I could have hoped for in setting up the game. While seeming to give her a measure of control over my orgasm, she had secretly taken it - all of it. It was a very sweet discovery.

kelmag

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Is Eighty Percent Enough?

Is Eighty Percent Enough?

First, I want to start this blog entry with a special thanks to all of those who wrote to me about my previous article, “Male Chastity - Pleasure and Devotion, the Science Behind It,” telling me how much it meant to them and their partner to finally understand the source of the powerful positive emotions and mood changes that they have experienced during their adventure into male chastity. Every time I received one of those e-mails or comments, it made my day.

It has been about six weeks since my last blog entry. As I’ve mentioned before, I am not an every day kind of blogger. I write when something important happens regarding my male chastity experience. Well, something has. For the last six weeks, I have orgasmed only at the time, place and circumstance that my wife and I agreed upon. During that period, I orgasmed five times; the last of which (twice) was after eighteen days. These last two were especially sweet, not only because it was an unusually long period of denial for me (equaling my previous longest period to date), but it occurred during a two day “mini-honeymoon,” that my wife and I took together at a local resort hotel. One of the nice things about living in a resort destination, is there is always a nice vacation type hotel just minutes away.

That first day at the hotel, we got settled in, then went and sat pool side for a couple of hours as each of us enjoyed a drink and read, occasionally taking a break from our reading to hold hands like a couple of newlyweds, look at each and murmur words of affection. Then we retired to our room (which was at least a dozen rooms away from the next occupied room), while my wife changed into her “play clothes,” I laid out the various toys, lotions and potions I had brought. Still wearing my chastity device covered by a loose pair of boxer shorts, I awaited my lovely wife on the bed. After what seemed an eternity, she emerged from the bathroom wearing the sheerest black teddy you can imagine and a black, one piece garter belt and stockings with no panties. Before she even got on the bed, my cock was straining to expand, pulling the ring away from body until it stretched my scrotum and pressed hard against my balls. Even with the chastity device, I had a pretty good tent going with the loose boxers.

For more than an hour, my wife teased the heck out of me, rubbing herself all over me. After slowly drawing my shorts down over my hips and over the large bulge of my crotch, I saw just how weirdly swollen and distorted my genitals were as they strained against the chastity device and themselves for freedom. Several times during the rub and grind, she climbed on top of me, slowing dragging herself over my torso until she was straddling my face, presenting her freshly trimmed pussy for my oral attention. Nothing ever tasted as sweet. The sound of her moans, the scent and taste of her arousal, the sheer heat emanating from her crotch, aroused me like never before. I was one, all-body, sex gland, just seething, pulsing and throbbing with excitement. It felt like my whole body was vibrating, as though an electric current was running through me.

My wife, looking at my grotesquely swollen genitals, asked me, “doesn’t that hurt?” She has asked that question before out of genuine concern for me when teasing me when I was locked. This time though, the tone was different. It was sarcastic, like she was saying: “gee, look what I’ve done to you, poor dear - that’s too bad.” It was the first time she had slid into a dominant sexual role on her own during our play. It immediately ratcheted up my arousal another level, although it seemed impossible that I could be even more sexually aroused. I felt a wave of heat course through me, my face suddenly hot and flushed.

Finally, she took the key from around her neck and dangled it on front me, asking me how much I wanted it. “Badly, very badly,” was all I could get out of my arousal constricted throat. She finally unlocked me. I had the rest of it off in a jiffy and embraced her in a tight hug. For several minutes we were welded together, our lips locked, each of us trading thrusts with our tongue before swirling them around each other’s. She leaned back until she was flat on the bed and pulled me on top of her, drawing her legs up and hooking them around my lower back, pulling me close. Our lips were still locked together, tongues swirling as she snaked her hand down between us, found my ramrod hard cock and gently stroked it.

It was like touching the “third rail” but instead of pain, a thunderbolt of pleasure roared through me, expanding out rapidly from my crotch until it seemed to exit from my fingertips and toes, raising goose bumps all over my body and giving me the shivers. Even after an hour of intense, non-stop teasing, she wasn’t done with me; not by a long shot. We broke our lip lock long enough for us to make eye contact and then with eyeballs locked on each other, she took my throbbing cock and began gently rubbing it up and down her now very wet slit. A loud moan of pleasure came from both of us as she rubbed the head of my dick against her swollen clit.

“I don’t know how long I can hold out,” I said, feeling the telltale tingle at the base of my cock which signals the approach of orgasm.

“It is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she replied, reminding me without saying it of the many times I had asked her to edge me before I came.

“Yes, yes,” I managed to pant as she released her grip on my cock and disengaged our crotches, my dick losing all contact.

The feeling of impending orgasm passed as I kissed her passionately and nibbled her ear. She kneaded my ass cheeks, working her way down and then slipping a hand back between us and taking hold of my cock again. Again, she rubbed it up and down her slit. Having just experienced this, I was prepared for the feeling and didn’t let it push me over the edge. I was not quivering in pre-orgasmic arousal as I had been before so she doubled down so to speak and slipped the head of my cock into her waiting hole. That sent another bolt of pleasure through me that was so exquisitely sharp that it was almost painful. I heard her giggle and then felt her pull me out, again releasing me and pushing my hips away so my dick lost all contact.

She did this several more times, allowing the head of my cock into her, then pulling me out when she felt me start to thrust in. It was maddening and, sensing how over the top aroused and frustrated I was, laughed at the effect she was having on me. After a few moments, I calmed down. Sensing that, she took my cock again in her hand and began rubbing it up and down her slit. I could feel she was getting close as she began rubbing the head of my hot, swollen cock in small circles around her clit. Her breathing got faster; her hips began jerking in small spasms. Then her eyes closed and her chin tilted up as they always do just before she cums.

I felt her locked ankles come off my lower back, then her legs spread as wide as they could, tilting her hips up as she did this to apply more pressure on her clit from my dick head. She began humping it, rapidly thrusting her hips back and forth, moaning with each delicious increase in pressure on her clit. After just a minute or two of this, I felt her legs close up again, ankles locking and resting on the small of my back. Her fingers moved my cock head down until it was at her entrance, With a moan, she pulled just the head in. I felt her hands then reach around for my ass cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh; her ankles no longer resting but now insistently pulling me into her. We were cheek to cheek when she whispered just one word in my ear:

“Now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. My own hip thrust joined her pull and I slid into her, feeling the incredible heat from her gripping tunnel. In less than a moment, I was buried in her to the hilt. Again, she gasped loudly and moaned as she began the humping motion with her hips again. Instead of withdrawing and thrusting again as every instinct in my body was telling me to do, I instead began rolling my hips up and down while still buried in her, using my pubic bone to apply pressure to her clit.

“Yes, yes, YES!” was all she said before she erupted, as she rapidly thrust her hips up as her abdominals contracted. Eyes still closed, she whipped her head back and forth, mouth wide open sucking in air as she came. After the second wild thrust and gyration of her hips, I felt that tingle of impending orgasm again. This time though, the tingle didn’t wait around for me to suppress it. It immediately ignited my orgasm. I can’t really capture in words the intensity and sharpness of the pleasure I felt, but each spasm seemed to increase in intensity as my wife continued to wildly gyrate, gripping and releasing my shaft with her vaginal muscles as she came and came.

During most of my life, orgasms were five or six seconds of pleasurable ejaculation followed by a rapid shut-down of pleasure. Since I’ve begun wearing a chastity device and going weeks without an orgasm of any kind, that has changed. The intensity of the pleasure has been magnified many fold over the pre-chastity orgasms I had experienced, and the entire experience lasts longer, sometimes much longer. The immediate spasms of orgasmic pleasure now last a good twenty seconds or more, but even more importantly, the pleasurable feeling of orgasm continue at a lower intensity without spasms for several minutes afterward. I’ve heard the effect described as a male multiple orgasm which kind of makes sense. But, the best description of this effect I’ve read in Tantric books is “full body orgasm.” It is exactly that. For several minutes, my entire body feels like it is vibrating, pulsing with pleasure that is no longer just felt in the genitals.

Exhausted, I rolled over beside her, her legs still tightly clenched around my torso. We gently stroked each other and laughed, amazed at the incredibly intense, hot sex we were having after almost twenty years of marriage. Even as newlyweds, I don’t think we experienced anything like the intensity and passion for each other that we were feeling now. We drifted off in each other’s arms and remained locked together as the room darkened with the setting sun and late afternoon turned into evening. We went out to dinner, chatted and ate and held hands in between courses. It was like the first few weeks we had dated when we could be in a room full of people but no else existed for us but each other. We both slept very well that night in the cool sheets of the very comfortable hotel bed.

We went at it again the next afternoon after a leisurely lunch overlooking the verdant hills of a nearby gold course. For a good hour and a half, we teased and aroused each other using fingers, lips, tongues and various vibrators. She came first, the wand vibrator pressed tightly against her slit while I licked, nibbled and kneaded her breasts. Then she got on all fours and offered herself doggie style, head turned sideways on a pillow, her chest almost flat on the mattress, legs spread widely. Her neatly trimmed pussy glistened with her juices in the afternoon light; her nether lips puffy and spread apart like the petals of a rose.

I entered her slowly, turning the tables on her, teasing her with shallow entries and withdrawals. I felt her thrust back, trying to capture all of me. I pulled back a little and then slowly drew the length of my shaft back and forth across her slit without entering her. She moaned loudly, then reached down between her legs, took hold of my dick and plunged it into herself, thrusting back to take all of it. We both moaned loudly as I felt the heat of her tunnel completely surround and grip me.

I began thrusting slowly, giving a little circular grind with my hips when fully in her before withdrawing until just the glans of my cock was inside her. The pace picked up and she matched my tempo. I felt her fingers reach down between our legs and gently cup my balls, then roll them around as she knew I loved. Her fingers drifted further down and found my perineum, that sensitive patch behind my ball sack. She knows that finger pressure there will ignite me in short order. She lightly massaged it and then pressed harder as I furiously fucked her, the sound of my sweat soaked hips slapping her equally wet ass cheeks filling the room.

She pressed a little harder and vibrated her fingers rapidly. She knew what she was doing. I exploded immediately, thrusting deeply in her, impaling her completely as the cum seemed to explode out of me in shot after shot. My body spasmed wildly as I emptied what was left in my balls and prostate into her. The room seemed to get darker and I felt light-headed and dizzy as I finished, her fingers returning to my balls and gently shaking and rubbing them, seeming to coax the last few drops out of them. I pulled out, seeing the white foam of my cum covering her slit as I slowly fell back onto the bed. My wife turned back around and slid in under my arm, tightly clutching my chest that was still heaving up and down trying to catch my breath.

We slept very well again that night. In the morning I put my chastity device back on. My wife smiled as she watched the procedure, shaking her head and still seaming a little bemused by it. It was as though she was saying, “It’s still a really weird looking thing, but if it’s responsible for the incredible sex of the last two days than so be it - let it be weird.”

The title of this blog is: “Is Eighty Percent Enough?” What it refers to is my estimate of how far along the path we are towards what would be an ideal sex life for us in a male chastity lifestyle. Actually, it’s how far along I think my wife is from the starting point of where she was eight months ago when this all started. You have read the description of what this past mini-honeymoon was like. It was pretty damn good. What was sex life like eight months ago when I started us down this path? Well not very good - in fact it was pretty bad and getting worse.

During the year or so before we began this adventure in male chastity, our sex life consisted of me asking or pressuring my wife for sex almost every day. She would deny me most of the time, finally agreeing once or occasionally twice a week. Most of the time the sex was listless. She showed little interest or passion and seemed mostly to be interested in getting me to cum as quickly as I could so she could be done with it. Of course, that led to a growing resentment by both of us. She resented the pressure for sex from me, feeling she was left with a Hobson’s choice of reject me completely and suffer my ire for several days, or give in and have sex when she really didn’t want to do it. As for me, I resented the constant rejection, the often totally listless performance by her and the fact that I was the one that always had to initiate sex. The problem was affecting our entire relationship making us both snippy and increasingly cold towards each other.

What accounts for the change in her libido? Much of it, I think, is simply the sudden complete removal of pressure from me for sex and the consequent removal of the biggest irritant in our relationship. We have talked about it, and I must confess I had no idea just how badly that constant conflict she was experiencing was weighing on her. Once we went to a designated day with no pressure from me beforehand, she said it felt like a great weight was lifted from her. She could hold my hand or stroke my hair without worrying that it would lead to pressure from me for more. She was free to be affectionate.

In a similar way, I felt better about not being rejected all of the time. And I certainly felt better about not having a listless sex partner when we did have sex. I found that she was being responsive to my gestures of affection with gestures of her own because she no longer feared that it would lead to pressure for sex. Moreover, I was simply in much better balance in terms of my neuro-chemistry. As described in my previous blog entry, without the frequent orgasms keeping me in low dopamine and oxytocin levels, I was just feeling better - had a much improved feeling of well-being and a powerful desire to please and be close to my wife.

There is also the fact that for the first time in a very long time, sex is now a subject for positive communication (what delightful things we want to do to each other) and not the constant source of friction and anger that it had been. She thinks about sex in a positive way now. It had been a long time since that was true.

So why only eighty percent? Why do I think we are only eighty percent of where I would like to be? Well, there are some other things that I would like to see happen in our sex life that haven’t happened yet or has not happened much. For one, I’d like to see her initiate sex some of the time. That hadn’t happened in probably ten years or more. But, I’m starting to see some of that happening now. In this last month, she actually cut short the period we were supposed to wait for our next “date,” just taking me by the hand and leading me to the bedroom. Wow, what a difference that simple act had on my feelings.

What else? Well, I’d like to have her really take control of my orgasms. Up to now, after lengthy, gentle and subtle persuasion, she now wears my key inside a special silver locket I had made for her. But, up to now, I am unlocked for cleaning daily and for sex to orgasm on a date that usually I suggest and she agrees upon. Early in our chastity experience, I asked her to decide upon a date when I would next orgasm and she said she just wasn’t comfortable doing that. Rather than push that, I backed off and spent months building a positive chastity experience for her. I think I have succeeded in doing that. She feels and acknowledges the positive changes in both of us and our relationship that a male chastity lifestyle has brought about. It may still be “weird” to her and she may not understand why I want to do this, but she can no longer deny that it is good for her as well as me.

To see if I can gently move her towards taking greater control of my orgasms, I have suggested a new set of rules for the next couple of months, ostensibly to keep our sex play new and interesting, which it does, but also to get her involved in taking some control of my orgasms to see that it can be fun for her and does not cause resentment by me (her great concern). For the next couple of months, we will be doing the following:

First, after we have sex in which I orgasm, I will go immediately back into the chastity device.

For one week after that orgasm, we will do some mostly non-sexual cuddling and talking before we go to sleep every night; well, maybe a little playful teasing but nothing heavy. There will be no orgasms for me.

To mark the end of my “cooling off” period, we will have a heavy teasing session of at least a half hour or more. This teasing can also be in the form of a “Lady’s Night,” in which I give her a full body massage with scented oils and then bring her to orgasm with fingers, lips, tongue and her favorite wand vibrator. In fact, we have done the first of these since my last orgasm on the mini-honeymoon, and it was fabulously successful. She experienced an hour and a half of total, devoted, attention from me, until she was as limp and relaxed from the massage before being turned into a writhing, moaning mass of female flesh. She finished with a crashing orgasm that had her literally crying in pleasure and happiness at the end.

At the end of the heavy teasing session (or Lady’s Night) we do a drawing from a velvet sack in which there are five black marbles and one white one. Actually, she does the drawing - I wanted even the random play to be in her hands. If a black one was picked (which it was this first time), then there is no orgasm for me in the immediate future. If a white one is selected, then I get to orgasm within three days, but at time and place of her choosing. She can either tell me when that will be beforehand or surprise me.

If a black marble is picked, we do another drawing two days later after a modest teasing session. The previously picked black ball is kept out so it is now four black balls and one white ball. And so it continues, with a black ball selection signaling wait another two days to select again; a white one meaning orgasm for me within the next three days but with the actual time and place of her choosing. We have since made this second drawing and she drew another black ball. She will select again in two days (tomorrow) with three black balls and one white ball in the sack.

This method will have me releasing sometime between 7 and 22 days with the average being about 16 days. From experience, this time period seems to work well for her too (especially with her getting a Lady’s Night or other sexual attention at least every seven days or so). But there is an additional purpose to this. That is to get her comfortable with controlling my orgasm at least for three days after the white marble is picked. Eventually, I will add days to this - one at a time until we get it up to a week after the white ball is picked. When (or if) she becomes comfortable with that, we will extend it a day or two at a time until we get it to two weeks. At that point, with the one week cooling off period, the five black balls to one white ball with selection every other day drawing and then her discretion for two weeks, we will be in the sort of chastity routine that I think I would really like and would work well for hr too.

Having her do some tease and denial of me every couple of days before the drawing will also get that delightful activity into the routine of our life; get it to the point where it is “normal” for her. I am hoping that at some point, when she comfortable with tease and denial, sees its not painful or harmful to me (her main concern she has told me) and enjoys it herself, she will begin to do it on her own initiative.

That would get us to about ninety percent of what I would like to do. What is the other ten percent? How about some light bondage (of me)? Up to now, that has been a hard limit with her. Maybe, with the continuing excitement and fun of this lifestyle she will try it. I won’t push it but I will make it ready and available from time to time to see if she will try it.

What else? How about some anal play (of me)? Until fairly recently, I would have said she would never do this - just too “weird” and she was just too fastidious and squeamish. But, I think it might be possible. I have gotten her to give me external prostate massages as part of my teasing when I’m locked up and she has seen the incredibly pleasurable effect it has on me. Maybe she would agree to do a little internal prostate massage of me with a thin vibrator or probe. Who knows? Again, it’s something I won’t push if she doesn’t want to do it but I will make the toys available from time to time.

As for my fantasy of taking a strap-on, well, I’m not sure I would even want to do this with my wife. I have never fantasized having my wife do this; it is always other women. Maybe that’s my sub-conscience telling me that it wouldn’t be a good idea to do this with my wife. It’s the sort of thing in which the after effect can be difficult to keep within the bedroom and away from the rest of our relationship. And, once done, it can’t be undone - there is no way to “unring” a bell. I am a sexual submissive but my wife doesn’t know it and I don’t think I want her to know it. My sense is that our relationship would be damaged if she did. I have not pitched male chastity using any sort of dominant/submissive kind of language or idea. In fact, I don’t even call it male chastity with her. I just refer to it as our “game,” and the male chastity device as simply “the device.” Maybe some day that will change. I hope so. I have kept this secret for a long time.

Until next time my friends -

Kelmag

Popular Posts