Put in My Place

Again, much has happened since I last wrote. We had one of those moments in which we both sensed that the torch had finally passed. I was no longer making the rules and driving the process of male chastity. She was taking over - testing her wings and finding that she can, indeed, fly.

It began with our usual "drawing ceremony," where she picks from a sack of black marbles and one white marble. Several weeks ago we (or I) had added the additional wrinkle that if she chose a black marble, she got to choose which one of us rolled the dice. Then the one chosen would roll with the result being taken from a short stack of index cards, separate stacks for each of us. If I rolled, the result taken from my stack would describe the sort of tease she would do. If she rolled, as she did this time, the result was taken from her stack which described the sort of service I would provide.

On this occasion, before she rolled, she said she was too tired to play that night and wanted to move the play session to the next night. Then she took the dice and rolled a four. The card corresponding to a four in her stack read:

Roll 4 or 10 (Nylon is Everything)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* Take your Device off. Take the vibrator out and place it beside me. You may not touch yourself.
* I am going to tease your dick by using my stockings to lightly slap it and rub it. You will sit still while I'm doing it - or at least try to.
* When I hand you the stockings, you will put them on me and then sit with your back against the headboard.
* I will lie down in front of you and use the vibrator on myself while teasing your dick with my stockinged feet. You may not cum.

This sounded like a lot of fun - especially putting her stockings on her. There would be lots of opportunities to serve her while I was doing that. I was really looking forward to the next night.

The following night I took my regular shower. Since it was a designated day to remove my CB-6000s for cleaning (which I do every third day), I did so. When I finished, I was about to put it back on when I remembered the card's instructions that the chastity device was to be removed. I use plastic locks (she prefers not to have to deal with a key - instead, I give her a note when I am locked with the lock number on it.) and didn't want to waste one putting it on only to cut it off ten minutes later when we are in bed and starting to play by the card's instructions. This was a mistake.

When she joined me in bed, all freshly showered and smelling heavenly of body wash and a light perfume, the first thing she noticed was that my device wasn't on.

"I didn't say you could take the device off dear," she said in a serious tone.

I wasn't sure if she was joking but I responded truthfully:
"The card for the four you rolled last night said I should take my device off."

"Well, I didn't say you could take it off, so put in back on - pronto," she flicked the back of her hand towards me as though brushing me away.

"Sure honey," I replied, scrambling to put my CB device back on.

When I was back in my plastic enclosure, I climbed onto the bed eagerly looking forward to the "nylon" game on the card. It was not to be.

"I don't like having a card tell me what to do," she said with a note of anger in her voice."

"But we talked about it when I proposed it and you agreed to it," I responded, still thinking I was running the show.

"Well, I didn't know at the time that I wouldn't like it; and to tell you the truth, I hate it and won't do it. The cards are out, gone. I don't need any cards to tell me what I should do in bed."

"Of course honey," I stammered, surprised at how assertive she was. "Like you said, no more cards."

"Good, where's my friend?" she asked, referring to her favorite wand vibrator.

"I'll get - it's right here," I replied, reaching down on the floor between the bed and night stand to retrieve it.

"Okay, now lie down - you're going to get a show and I don't need any damn card to tell me how I should do it."

"Okay, okay," I said, getting the message. I laid back and watched as she pulled her black, lacy nightgown over her head, revealing those wonderful breasts of hers, still perky well into her fifties.

In a moment, she climbed on top of me, straddling my waist as she brought her hands up to her hair and ran her fingers through her long, blonde tresses, arching her back in a Marilyn Monroe type pose. Clearly, she was right. She didn't need any instruction from a card that I wrote.

"Do you like what you see, honey," she purred as she displayed herself for me.

I could only smile as I ran my fingers over her smooth thighs.

"Yes, I guess you do," she said with a giggle as she reached back and fondled my very stiff member, straining to burst out of its confines; the pressure from my erecting shaft pulling the testicle ring away from my body, pulling hard on my tender balls.

I thrust my hips up in response, bucking under her, moving her up and down several times. I felt her thighs tighten against my waist to hold on.

I reached up to touch and massage her breasts but she brushed them aside.

"There will be no touching with your hands tonight. I have other plans."

I squirmed under her, the pressure from the testicle ring getting more uncomfortable as flesh challenged plastic and lost.

"And you're staying in that device - so don't even ask to take it off," she said smiling as reached back and pushed two fingers into my sensitive perineum, finding that delightful hotspot over my prostate that made me jump.

"Okay, hon," I smiled back, not sure who this very assertive woman was who was occupying my wife's body.

She took her fingers off my sensitive spot and brought them immediately to her own pussy, running both fingers slowly up alongside the inside of her slit. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she reached the top and circled her clit, rubbing up and down along the right side of it - the place that seems to do it for her. She scooted up further on my torso, reaching my lower chest before she sat back down again, putting about half of her weight on her folded legs. I felt the pressure on my chest. I could still breathe but I had to work at it - each breath having to lift the sixty pounds or so pressing on my diaphragm.

She was totally into feeling her own pleasure. Her eyes were closed and head tilted up as she moaned, working her fingers slowly along the outside of her clitoral hood. Several times, she reached down with her middle finger and ran it up along the inner lips, picking up moisture as it went and depositing it around the outside of her clit as she rubbed it slowly. She slid a little further up on my chest as she stopped rubbing her clit long enough to reach over and find the wand vibrator - the Deluxe Brookestone model with the four speeds and the flexible head. Every ad for it shows the model using it to massage her neck. Is that really what they designed this perfect instrument to do?

The near silence was broken by the sudden buzzing sound of the vibrator on level one speed. She convulsively jerked at the first touch of the vibrator's head to her clit.

"Oh God!" she moaned as she thrust her hips up to add pressure to her swollen clit.

She spread her knees wider which opened up her pussy more but also placed more of her weight on my chest. The dark pink, smooth, inner lips of her pussy opened like petals, her vagina glistening with her juices. It only took a few minutes of vibrator action to get her rhythmically squeezing her thighs against the sides of my chest, riding me like a horse at full cantor. This vibrator has a single, electronic button, not a mechanical switch, so there is no telltale warning of a "click" when she raises the speed up a level. So we she pushed that button, there is just the sudden louder buzzing of the head, like the sound of a swarm of angry bees.

She crept a little closer to me, putting her soft, round derriere on my sternum as she continued to buck and convulse as she moved the vibrator head smoothly up along her slit before circling it around her clit. She was, as they say, completely in my face; the tips of her pubic hair brushing my chin. She was in her own world now, her face contorted in such a way that it could easily have been interpreted as pain, even torture, but I knew very well it was exquisite pleasure.

My wife is rarely multi-orgasmic, but she does have both the ability and desire to stay at an incredibly pleasurable plateau for a long time. She once described it to me as so good, she doesn't really want it to end with an even more pleasurable orgasm. It sounded a lot like my own experience with male chastity - the eventual orgasm, although incredibly pleasurable, often results in a letdown with the loss of the pleasure of what had been constant arousal and anticipation.

But, she hadn't forgotten about me. She edged closer until her pubic hair touched my lips, then thrust her hips forward to press her pussy against my mouth, the taste, scent, heat and slippery wetness sending an electric thrill racing down my spine and exploding in my groin.

"Your tongue, your tongue, fuck me with your tongue," she said desperately as she tilted her hips up further to present her opening to my mouth. She pressed the head of the wand vibrator tightly against her clit as she thrust forward trying to capture my extended tongue, the thrust pushing the head of the vibrator against the underside of my nose, stunning me momentarily.

"Yes, yes, YES!" she moaned loudly, the air hissing through her teeth as she ground herself into me.

I slipped my tongue into her hot, dripping wet hole. She convulsed in response:

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," she kept repeating like a mantra the sound of the words separated from their meaning.

As I pulled my tongue out and thrust it in a second time, there was an almost simultaneous blast of noise. She had flicked the switch to speed the vibrator up to level three.

She was bucking and thrashing up and down as I rapidly tongue fucked her. The head of the vibrator was pressed up against my upper lip and the underside of my nose. The noise and concussion was incredible - it was splitting my head open. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand it for long but I didn't dare stop - not now, not while my honey was so close.

My solution was to tongue fuck her faster and deeper. She responded by stepping the vibrator up to its final, heading cracking, fourth speed. I felt her hand slip down behind my neck, grip me hard and jerk me up against her flailing, gyrating pussy. I was completely trapped - she had a death grip on my neck. It was like she was trying to shove my entire face into her clutching hole. I went into overdrive, like a piston engine revved up to the red line, my tongue shot in and out of her until I heard a loud gasp.

It was how my wife came when it was an A-1, over the top, head exploding, body shaking, soul numbing orgasm - a loud gasp and then an instant of absolute stillness - a moment frozen in time before all hell broke loose. This was one of those A-1 orgasms. Her first convulsion was forward, her body suddenly jack-knifing, her mid-section slamming into my face, thighs squeezed against me, before springing back up, back arched. Her entire body shaking, jerking, spasming, convulsing, her shout exploding from her body:

"Oh God, OhGGGGGGGOOOOOODDDDDDD OHGODDDDDDDDDDDD! OHGGOOOOOOOOOOODDDDD!"

Then a shriek with no words, just screams of pure, almost painfully exquisite pleasure. Her body shook and shivered; her chest heaved rapidly in a desperate bid to pull in enough air to feed her frenzy. Then she fell forward on top of me as though she had been shot. My mouth was still buried in her pussy, her wet torso wrapped around my face. She was completely still, except for the heaving chest and the rapid thrum of her heartbeat.

Between her weight on my chest and her groin pressed against my nose and mouth, I was having trouble breathing but I refused to move. I didn't want to spoil this blissful moment for her when all of those wonderful endorphins were flooding her brain, giving her a feeling of absolute fulfillment. She would have to make the first move. After several minutes, she did, raising herself from my face before rolling off of me with a loud sigh of contentment. She cuddled up close to me and wedged the side of her face under my chin, against my neck. Her hair was wet from the perspiration of her efforts. She was gone - not asleep, but not awake either. She was in a different state from either of those. She was in a state of bliss.

We lay like that for some time before I felt her rouse and move. She sat up, turned towards me and paused for a moment before leaning over and cupping my face with her soft hands. She leaned over and kissed me. It was not a kiss of passion. It was slow, soft and gentle - just a meeting of the lips as she stroked my cheeks with her thumbs. It was a kiss of deep appreciation - an appreciation that went beyond me and my efforts. It was an appreciation for us, for our relationship, for what made it possible for us to experience these increasingly frequent moments of absolute bliss. They had been so rare before in both of our lives.

She broke the kiss but stayed close, her faces just inches from mine.
"Are you sure you're okay with this - with me cumming and you not. I still feel kind of guilty about it," she said looking away from me and down at my groin where my still grotesquely swollen and contorted cock and balls strained against the confining chastity device.

"Don't feel guilty - never feel guilty about taking your pleasure. I feel completely satisfied and grateful I can give you this gift. For me, it's all good, whether or not I actually get to cum."

She looked back, eyes locked onto mine.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, hon, I'm sure. I'm very, very sure."

She looked at me quizzically, one eyebrow arched like Star Trek's Mr. Spock before he would say "curious."

"I must be the luckiest woman on earth."

"Yes you are," I laughed. And I'm the luckiest man. It's amazing that we found each other and even more amazing that we found this after so many years together."

"Yes, I have to agree - you are the luckiest man on earth," she laughed, shaking her head as she rose from the bed, headed for the shower.

And I am; She is; We are.

The Wife Led Husband In Chastity

Wow, has it really been six weeks since my last post? Between moving and a family vacation, it has been a blur of activity. Two posts ago (May 6th), I described a "Eureka" moment of discovering there was a way to introduce my wife to the broader principle of a Wife Led Marriage that would encompass Male Chastity and her control of my releases. I also described the use of a coupon system to give her something that she values in return for tease and denial. That post also described a "test" of her ability and desire to lead and my own ability and desire to follow using a previously sore point of contention, planning the family vacation. The test succeeded beyond my most optimistic expectations. It gave her a taste of what wife leadership and decision making would be like. She loved the experience.

Shortly after the successful test of her planning of the family vacation, two things came up that became a source of contention between us. One involved a dispute with a business associate and how it should be handled. The other involved a dispute with a family member. We disagreed about how each should be handled. I was my usual adamant, stubborn self, sticking to my desire for harsh retribution. She advised a much more nuanced approach that would lower the temperature on both situations and allow quick resolution and reconciliation. It took me awhile but thinking about it once my initial hot reaction had cooled, it was clear that my wife was right. And, it occurred to me that she was right for the same reasons that she was usually right. I wrote her a note, the first part of which described the two situations, my initial reactions, her advise and why her advise (her decisions about what I should do about it) was correct. I finished the note with the following:

" The lessons of the last few days and my continued reading of Remond's second volume [Worshipping Your Wife] have convinced me that I should make a more formal commitment to follow your lead and accept your decisions with the knowledge that those decisions will almost always be better than mine because they will be more sensitive to a larger range of considerations and they will not be clouded by the typical male ego issues and stubbornness which I seem to have in such abundance.

Therefore, I would like to at least try out this form of family decision making for the next four months to see how it works. Obviously, we will discuss all issues to see if we can reach agreement. But, for those few issues in which we cannot agree, even after extensive discussion, we will simply agree beforehand that we will follow your decision and I will fully support it.

Now, I know this will take some getting used to by both of us. It is not the way we have operated before but we also had many problems with long running disputes in the past that never really seemed to get resolved. Worse, those disputes always carried over into other things that made both of our lives miserable. I think we can avoid all of that if we use this system. It requires confidence in you by me that you will take my points of view into account in making a final decision where there is a difference between us. I have this confidence in you. And, it will require confidence by you in me that I will support your decision even when it differs from what I would do and that I will not carp, or passively resist it. There will be no "I told you so's," by me, and If I slip, let me know it. I hope you will have this confidence in me.

Maybe it is possible to teach old dogs new tricks. I guess we'll find out over the next four months. I will certainly give it a try.
I Love You,
K."

After reading the letter, my wife came into my office (I work at home) and gave me a huge hug and kiss. She said she loved my note and really appreciated my honesty and the courage it took to admit that I was wrong. She said she loved the new me and was prepared to make family decisions. I returned the huge hug and kiss and was so choked up I could barely get the words out . . . "Thank You."

Since then, things have worked out very well except for a two week period when we both learned just how important male chastity was to making this new system work. For those two weeks, at her insistence, I removed the chastity device and didn't wear it. We were travelling by air and she said she would be mortified if I was pulled aside for a wand check (as they do randomly now) and they found the device.

With my orgasms no longer controlled and me no longer dependent on my wife for sexual release, I quickly returned to my former somewhat surly, less attentive self. The difference was so striking that my wife immediately recognized the difference and remarked on it. She is now a true believer in the power of male chastity. She doesn't understand why it works or why I would want to do something like that, but she clearly understands that, for whatever reason, it does work and it changes my mood and personality in a way that is very positive for our relationship and for her.

That first evening after we returned home, we hugged in passing as we often do when moving about the house but this time I felt her hand touching my privates, checking me out. We had been home for about four hours and I hadn't gotten around to putting my device (a CB6000s) back on. She looked me squarely in the eye and smiled as she said:

"Don't you have something you were supposed to do?"

I smiled back sheepishly and nodded as I made a beeline for our bedroom, took a shower and put the device back on. I can't explain it, but it felt good to have it back on - the feeling of being enclosed and held somehow comforting and familiar. By the next morning, despite the continuing stress of preparing for our move, I felt distinctly calmer and more relaxed than I did on our vacation. The difference in my mood was so apparent that my wife noticed it immediately. I just pointed south of my belly and said: "remarkable, isn't it?"

With respect to sex during the two week vacation, the first time was great; the other two times substantially less so. Upon arrival, we immediately went to our room, shared a bottle of champagne and fucked like hot weasels. It had been fifteen days since my last orgasm and I had been enclosed in my device for nearly all of it. The result was an hour and a half of wild, explosive sex with me experiencing one of those blissful, exquisitely intense orgasms that have become the norm since we began using male chastity.

The other two sessions of sexual play during the vacation were much less satisfying for both of us. With both reached orgasm both times but there was none of the rollicking, "roll in the hay" excitement that accompanies breaking the chastity orgasm fast. Adjectives like "nice," "pleasant" and "practiced" would be good descriptors of the experience. It was very much like much of the sex we'd had during our marriage prior to my chastity.

It drove home the point to me that male chastity not only elevated my sexual experience but my wife's as well. The tremendous sense of excitement generated in me by sex after a chaste period elevated my wife's sense of excitement as well, which elevated mine more and then hers, and on it went in a virtuous circle that ignited both of us into a fever pitch of quivering, teenage like passion. Using chastity to enhance sex is like replacing candle wax with rocket fuel. The difference is that great.
After we returned, at my suggestion, we added a new wrinkle to our drawing ceremony (selecting a marble from a sack - black means no orgasm for me, pick again in three days; white means orgasm for me at a time, place and method of my wife's choosing). The new wrinkle is a dice throw if a black marble is selected. My wife decides who throws the dice. If I throw them, the results are taken from a stack of index cards describing teases for me. If my wife throws them, the results are taken from her stack describing services for her.

Here are a couple of samples from my stack:

Roll 6 (Blind Fold)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* The Device stays on
* Take out the vibrator, the blind fold and a towel. Lay face up on the towel and put the blind fold on.
* You will have to use all of your senses except sight to enjoy this. And I do mean all of your senses - touch, hearing, smell and taste.

Roll 7 (A Special Massage)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* The Device stays on.
* Take out the vibrator and lay on your side facing away from me.
* With my fingers and the vibrator, I'm going to massage that special spot of yours. We'll see how much fluid and how many moans I can coax out of you.

Here are a couple of samples from her stack:

Roll 3 or 11 (Kneeling for Me)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* The Device stays on; you will not touch yourself.
* Take the vibrator out. Put a pillow on the floor by the side of the bed and kneel on it.
* You will watch me as I touch and use the vibrator on myself.
* If I want you to contribute, I will point to my pussy. You will then use your tongue and fingers to get me off.
________________________________________________________

Roll a 5 or 9 ( The View is Everything)
(eye contact) NOW . . .
* The Device stays on. Take the vibrator out and lay it beside me.
* Lie down on your back. You may not touch yourself.
* I will straddle your head facing your feet. You will do nothing to touch or taste me.
* I will use the vibrator on myself. When I want to I will grind myself down on your mouth. Only then may you lick and taste me. You will stop when I pull back up.
* Not only will you have a great view of me, but I will have a very hot view of you straining against the Device while you watch me.
________________________________________________________

Of course, it is my wife doing all the talking whether we are using my stack or hers. Well, we tried it out a week after we got back. She selected a black marble and chose to roll the dice herself. She rolled an eleven.

She read the index card contents to me and didn't wait for me to put a pillow on the side of the bed, dropping it there herself. I took my position kneeling on it while she got herself comfortable with pillows behind her back to support her. With legs dangling over the side of the bed, she began using only her fingers. It didn't take long until the moans began escaping from her lips. While she ran her fingers up and down her slit and around her clit, she used her feet to touch and excite my trapped cock and balls.

After a while, she brought me into active service. She didn't point as the card said she would. Instead, she just took a firm grip on the back of my head and pulled me in. There is nothing sweeter or more exciting to me than feeling her twitch as my tongue and fingers find just the right spot and watching her back arch as she thrusts her hips up to press her pussy to my lips. At first, she was continuing to play with my device enclosed cock and balls with her feet but after awhile she brought her legs up and clasped her ankles behind my neck, pulling me in as she thrust her pussy up, developing a rhythm after a while. When I slipped my tongue into her hot tunnel, she picked up the vibrator and finished herself off, cumming in a wild explosion of spasms and loud moans of pleasure.

When she was done she collapsed back on the bed, chest heaving as she continued to breathe heavily. She was wet everywhere; her beautiful torso and breasts glistened in the soft light. It was an amazing sight - at that moment I felt so lucky to be with her, to be able to do this for her. As aroused as I was, the strongest feeling I had was a sense of pride and satisfaction that I was able to give her this gift.

As I began putting things away, I felt her toes nudge my butt. I turned to her and she was sitting up; her hair was damp and stringy, her pussy was still wet and her eyes were a slit as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and tilted her head a bit.

"I like this game," she said as she smiled.

That's all she said as she rose up and went into the bathroom to shower. I finished straightening up and putting things away, changed out the sheets and cleaned the vibrator. I was still tremendously engorged but I had no sense that I was in any way deprived. It all felt perfectly natural. It was the way it was supposed to be.

And so I have renamed this blog again to more accurately describe what it is presently about. "The Wife Led Husband in Chastity." This blog is now about a husband who is wife led in his marriage. One component of that WLM is her control of his orgasm - the chastity. It is a very important component, perhaps the thing that makes the whole thing work for the both of us, but it is just a component. The bigger picture is it is wife led - that's what makes it work for my wife and in the final analysis, that's what matters.

The Sun Is Still Rising

Well, it's taken more than a few days to get back to you. Sometimes real life really does get in the way. But I promised you a true story of the ultimate in tease and denial so here it is. First, you will recall if you've been reading my blog that my wife and I play a game of chance with a sack, seven black marbles and one white marble. She selects a marble every other day in the evening during a "drawing ceremony." A black marble means no orgasm for me; a white one means I will get permission to cum sometime in the next five days - at a time, place and method of her choosing. We have been doing this for about nine months with certain variations.

My faithful readers also know that early in the game, my wife doctored the white marble with some kind of clear material (clear nail polish?) in streaks so she can feel the texture of it and easily distinguish it from the smooth black ones. Of course, I kept my knowledge of this a secret since it accomplished what I've wanted all along - for my wife to take charge of my orgasms. If she needed the cover of a game of chance, so be it.

Since we removed the black marble from the sack each time she picked one, my odds would improve with each drawing ceremony. Of course, I knew that odds had nothing to do with the results since she doctored the white marble but it was the cover story so I stuck with it. Well, during this cycle of the game (a cycle is the period after my last orgasm), I seemed to be having an unusually bad run of luck. If you do the math, the maximum time between orgasms for me should be twenty-one days (two days for each marble if she selects seven black marbles in a row before she gets to the white marble plus the five days of discretion she has to name the time and place in which I get to cum). In the past, a couple of times I had gone as long as eighteen days between orgasms. I was wound pretty tightly by the time I got to day eighteen, but the extended foreplay and eventual explosion was so exquisitely and intensely pleasurable that it was well worth the wait.

This time around, I was on day twenty-two of chastity. How is that possible with the number of marbles we used? Simple, skip a drawing ceremony a few times as we did this time because of travel to relatives or physical separation when I was away overnight on business. Our rule when a drawing ceremony is missed is we go on to the next one without any make-ups. On this cycle, my wife had finally drawn a white marble on day twenty and had me wait two days after that for my opportunity.

It had been an interesting cycle. I think she was testing me, seeing if she could extend the time between orgasms for me while still enjoying orgasms for herself (she'd had two during those twenty-two days -both times during a "Lady's Night," a regular event we have in which she is the complete focus of my attention; it starts with an hour long full body massage and finishes with a happy ending for her courtesy of my fingers, tongue and her wand vibrator). She seemed to be testing me to see how short, touchy and grouchy I would get without an orgasm.

Well, I'm sure I passed the test since she announced early in the day that this was going to be my night. I thought there was a possibility of tease here since she still had three days of leeway but her tone was sincere and I believed her. Our "date" was set for late that night in our bedroom after our child was soundly asleep. It wasn't an ideal situation. We often did our intense, extended sexual play, if we were home, in the afternoon. I worked at home and she is home from her part-time job at noon. There is also something so deliciously wicked about an afternoon tryst.

The evening started out well. My wife's mood was really upbeat and after our child went to bed we popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and settled in to watch a movie on TV. I preferred red wine so I had a glass from an already open bottle. The movie lasted two hours, during which we had some pretzels and popcorn. My wife kept motioning for me to refill her glass, something that was unusual. It was a weekday, with work the next day she generally stopped after a single glass; but not this night.

About fifteen minutes before the movie ended, I had finished my second glass and refilled my wife's glass again. To the surprise of both of us, the bottle emptied before her glass was half filled. We looked at each other in astonishment. She had drunk the entire bottle. At one hundred and twenty-two pounds, my wife should have been falling down drunk by then. But she wasn't. Maybe it was the snacks that absorbed it but she was playfully high instead of asleep.

To myself, I thanked my good fortune as she slipped her stockinged leg over my crotch and started to rub against the hard plastic of my chastity device. Oh, did I fail to mention that during those twenty-two days I was continuously in my CB-6000s chastity device except for a few minutes every third day in which I removed and thoroughly cleaned it and me. I showered twice daily in the device but even using the cleaning swabs and lots of anti-bacterial soap, it never does get completely clean when I'm wearing it.

She swung her leg over and around my waist and sat on my lap, in cowgirl position and rubbed her butt against my plastic covered dick. I absorbed the tongue of her deep French kiss in my mouth. My heart was pounding. I was feeling a little dizzy - a combination of wine and tightly wound lust. After several more minutes of intense necking, grinding and bumping, she stood up, took me by the hand and just smiled at me like an experienced cougar would smile before escorting a college kid to her bedroom.

In the bedroom, our bed was made up with our special, rubber lined sheet which prevented silicon lube from staining our good sheets and mattress pad. I had laid out the lotions, toys and, of course, her special wand vibrator. She was in my arms, our tongues entwined when she either pushed me or we just lost our balance. In either case, I went down suddenly, hitting the mattress flat on my back, my wife falling on top of me, laughing uproariously. I was laughing along with her but the laughing stopped when she locked onto my eyes with hers (which were now barely opened slits) and slid her hand down between our bodies until she found my hardness straining valiantly to break out of its plastic confines. My shorts were already off and she had wriggled out of her silk robe. She had on a black teddy, crotchless panties and black, nylon stockings.

With all of the French kisses, bumping and grinding against my crotch and the breathtaking sexiness of my wife in this lingerie, I was engorged to the maximum extent allowed by the chastity device. Those of you who use trapped ball devices like the CB series know what that means. The growing, expanding dick pulls the testicle ring away from the body, in my case more than two inches, creating a cartoonishly distorted, stretched effect. The trapped balls are pressed tightly against the ring - very tightly; to the point that there is some pain (and, I must admit, pleasure) from the pressured testicles with the promise of much more pain if even the slightest additional pressure is applied that squeezes them against the unyielding, hard, plastic ring.

In the past, my wife would comment on the somewhat grotesque sight with a question of genuine concern about whether I was in pain. I had always told her manfully that I was not so as not to make her even more skittish about playing with me when I was locked up. This time though there was no comment or question of concern. She just looked at it, smiled and said "Poor baby," in just the right tone of mocking voice. She added, "Did I do that?" I didn't get a chance to answer before she grabbed me roughly around the swollen base of my shaft between my pubic mound and the testicle ring. She wagged my purple, distended genitals at me and said:

"I'm not sure this is coming out to play tonight unless you're good. . . . very,very good," heavily emphasizing the second "very."

I smiled at her as though it was making a joke. She didn't smile back at me. Before I could say anything in reply (actually, nothing profound or witty really occurred to me), she released my cock and balls and slid up my body until her bottom was resting on my chest and her knees were pressed against my shoulders. She looked down at me as she slowly ran the middle finger of her left hand along the crevice of her engorging pussy, sighing and then moaning loudly as she reached the top of her slit, circling her clit. She grabbed the wand vibrator with her other hand and then lifted her butt off my chest, relieving some of the pressure on me there (even as light as she is, seated on my chest, I found it difficult to breathe). As quickly as the pressure on my chest was relieved, it redoubled on my shoulders as all of her weight shifted to them as she rose up.

There was now space to fit the head of the buzzing vibrator, still fairly quiet on the first setting. The action of her rising up also thrust her pussy towards me. I couldn't reach her with my tongue since the pressure of her knees on my shoulders kept me from sliding further under her. I couldn't reach her with my fingers, my arms, trapped as they were on the outside of her kneeling legs. I could only watch her writhing body towering above me, hear her moans mixed with the buzzing of the vibrator and take in the powerful, musky scent of her aroused pussy as she thrust it at me.

She was putting on a show for me; an incredible, one woman sexual extravaganza for a "captive" audience of one, me. Her moans of pleasure got louder when she clicked the vibrator's speed up to the second setting. In the past, she would immediately push her aroused pussy over my nose and mouth and have me lick her while she brought herself to a crashing orgasm with the vibrator. This time I had to wait my turn. She was determined to put on a show for me first. Every once in a while she would glance back at my throbbing, trapped member, look back down at me and smile. A couple of times she reached back with her free hand and roughly grabbed me. Once her hand came down hard on my trapped, pressure strained balls and it hurt. I tried mightily not to show it.

After about ten minutes of this, she was ready to finish. Her pussy lips were engorged with blood and spread open like the petals of a flower, revealing the deep coral pink of her tunnel and inner lips. The tip of her clit had receded back into its protective hood - a sure sign that she was on the edge, ready to cum. Now, my wife generally likes something in her when she cums - something to squeeze with her PC muscles - she's mentioned that it heightens the intensity for her. Seeing her condition and knowing this, I didn't need any direction when she suddenly shifted forward on her knees until the bottom of her wet pussy slit was resting on my lower lip.

She tensed immediately and jerked upward as my tongue plunged into her tunnel. She immediately kicked the vibrator up to its third speed of the four it has; she rarely gets to the fourth speed. At that moment, I couldn't imagine anything louder or more powerful pressed up against the underside of my nose. I fought to tilt my head back and slide further down under her to get away from the vibrator's painful contact; succeeding in getting a little space, I went to work on her pussy with my tongue. I know exactly how she likes it - tongue plunging in and out with random licks and swipes along the opening of her tunnel and inner lips. I rarely could get close to her clit - that was reserved for her vibrator and it was no different that night.

She came in a sudden jerk of her body followed by three jagged gasps for air before seeming to lose all control of her body as she jerked and spasmed like an epileptic in seizure, the moans of pleasure and shouts of "Oh God," filling the room. I feasted on her juices as her clit suddenly became too sensitive for the vibrator, or any touch for that matter. She collapsed on top of me, her inner thighs pressed tightly against my cheeks.

After several minutes of having her wrapped around my face in fetal position, she roused and slid down my body, moving all the way down to my incredibly swollen and purple cock and balls. She looked down at it, gripped them with her right hand and looked back up at me.

"Okay, it can come out and play but you've got to be fast." She glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. "It's 12:30 already and we've got to get up early you know."

"Okay, Okay," I said. " I'll be fast. I promise."

"Okay, take it off," she said.

She didn't need to say that twice. I scrambled to my nightstand drawer, pulled out the small scissors and cut the fifty cent plastic lock holding me trapped in the plastic container. I began using plastic locks a few months ago when it became clear that my wife would not wear the key for the lock on my device - even when hidden in a beautiful silver locket I had bought her, suitably engraved. She handed me the scissor (she was still squeamish about taking the device off, never mind putting it on me.). I had the lock off in a second; the device off in less than ten seconds.

She poured the silicon lube in the palm of her hand and waited for me as I crawled back to the center of the bed and lay on my back. Kneeling between my legs, she reached out with her lubricated palm and took a firm grip of my shaft just below the flare of my glans. She did one slow stroke, down and up and then stopped looking back up at me. That first hand stroke of my shaft after I've been locked up for awhile is so intensely pleasurable that I usually moan loudly and shake. This time was no different. My body tingled all over, goose bumps rose all over me as this sudden rush of pleasure-heat expanded out from my groin until it encompassed my entire body. My wife loves to watch this reaction and she did that night.

But, she was clearly in a hurry so after only a dozen or so strokes of my shaft, she climbed back over me, dick still in her gripping hand, and straddled my hips. She rose up on her knees and then guided the head of my cock to her opening. She paused there for a moment and smiled at me as she held me there, less than an inch from Nirvana. She rubbed the head up and down her slit twice before lining the head of my dick up with the opening to her tunnel and then slowly lowered herself down, impaling herself on me. She let out an audible "Ahhhhhhh," as I sank into her.

As great as the feeling is of the first hand stroke on my shaft after a long imprisonment, it doesn't compare to the feeling of intense pleasure and bliss at the first penetration of her velvety soft, hot, wet, tight tunnel. My wife is in her fifties (as am I), but she has never lost the incredible tightness of her pussy. Maybe she does Keegle exercises, who knows? Who cares? Short of that exquisitely intense feeling at the moment of orgasm, this feeling of pleasure was as good as it gets. I let out a loud "Ahhhhhhhhhh" along with hers and paused, waiting for the magic words.

She had told me I could take off the chastity device but so far, she had not given me permission to cum. To preserve the possibility of a massive tease and denial, our rules call for her to explicitly tell me I can cum. Until she does, if she says nothing, the default is that I can't. My wife often forgets or frankly, to be honest, pays very little attention to the rules unless I bring them up, but still I waited. She looked up at me quizzically when I remained still; she had expected me to be pumping madly away at this point.

"Can I cum," I asked her.

She looked back down at me and paused a moment. I think she had a fleeting idea of saying "No, - this was all a tease,"

But she didn't. Instead she said the three magic words I had been longing to hear all night:

"You can cum."

My smile was ear to ear as I began thrusting, using my hands wrapped tightly on her hips to guide and control the pace. She smiled back and greedily reached over and picked up the wand vibrator, clicked it on and brought it to her clit. A loud moan of pleasure came from her widely open mouth, chin tilted up as she seemed to be looking up at the heavens.

Now the Holy Grail for my wife in the realm of sex is the elusive simultaneous orgasm. As many times as she has tried it, we've succeeded perhaps a half dozen times in twenty years of marriage. Personally, I couldn't care less whether it's simultaneous, or she cums first, or I do, except it seems to really make her happy when it happens so I try to make it work. Of course, as every man knows, particularly those men in late middle age, the more you try to time an orgasm, the harder it is to have one. I have no difficulty delaying my orgasm - I have often used a number of tantric breathing and muscle control techniques to do this. But orgasm on command? No, I've never mastered that.

In less than five minutes, my wife was moaning loudly, the vibrator speed up to the third level, having bypassed the second. The sounds of my wife in ecstasy raised my level of arousal to that short plateau that sits just below the moment of no return when all time seems to stop. My wife immediately started thrashing about, loudly urging me to "cum with me, CUM WITH ME." After a half minute of writhing, she is done with hers when I feel the sudden expansion of heat in my groin that signals my orgasm is imminent.

Suddenly, there is a loud bang on our bedroom door.

"Are you okay in their Mom," our ten year old child cries through the fortunately locked bedroom door.

In an instant, my wife leaps off of me and seemingly in one motion grabs her robe and slips it on. I don't know whether it's the special ability of mothers or just the curious ability of my wife but somehow she managed to react instantly to the cry of her child after having drunk an entire bottle of Champagne, gone limp from her second orgasm of the night while still nude and impaled to the hilt on her husband's cock that was just about to explode.

As my wife unlocked and opened the door, I heard the high pitched voice of my child say:

"I heard loud noises in there. I heard you yell. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, mommy's okay. I just had a bad dream. There were bears chasing me. Everything is okay. I'll walk you back to bed," my wife replied in perfectly sober aplomb, taking our child by the hand and escorting the little one back to bed.

I had one of those "what just happened?" moments. It seemed like I had jumped over some time. It felt like just a moment ago, my writhing wife was grinding down on top of me and I was thrusting up; I was just about to cum - I mean a few seconds away. And now, now I am alone in bed, a raging hard-on still pulsing away. The moments of time I seemed to have jumped over were those incredible moments of long delayed orgasm. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath and realize what had just happened.

I suppose most men would have just finished themselves off, rolled over and gone to sleep, cursing their bad luck and bad timing. Almost certainly I would have a year and a half ago before my chastity experience started. Obviously, in that year and a half I had changed. I did not have feelings of anger. I didn't feel like I had been shortchanged. I consciously refused to finish myself, remembering the private vow I had made to reserve all future orgasms for my wife - she was in control of them and they only happened when she said so. More than control of the "when," I had given her control of the "where" and "how." Although she had given me permission to cum, she surely hadn't given me permission to cum by myself.

I turned on the light, picked up a book and waited for her return. I stayed erect almost the entire time, my eyes losing focus on the book as my mind wandered back to the incredible events of the night, including the wild finish, or non-finish as it were. I waited forty-five minutes before I tip-toed down the hallway and peaked into my child's room. They were both sound asleep, my wife's arm wrapped protectively around her child. I had to smile at the versatility of the wonderful woman I had married. She could go from sex-crazed, utterly wanton woman just completely her second orgasm of the night, to an angelic, loving, protective mother in a second; literally a second, and with a bottle of Champagne in her to boot.

I returned to my bed and as I put my chastity device back on it occurred to me that I had proven something very important to my wife - something she had doubted was possible. I had proven that I could take the ultimate in tease and not be angry or resentful at the final denial. My wife could no longer say she was afraid to tease me intensely, tease me to the very edge of orgasm; hold me teetering on the edge. I had proven that I could take the most intense tease anyone could possibly imagine and accept denial with equanimity, even pride at my accomplishment.

As I turned off the light and lay down to sleep, I wondered whether I had used up the orgasm granted me by the white marble selection. After all, she had given me permission to cum within the prescribed five days per the rules we agreed to. Nothing in the rules said she had to give me permission a second time. I smiled to myself, not sure whether I wanted my wife to strictly interpret the rule and make me wait another cycle, or choose to follow the spirit of the rule and give me permission to cum sometime n the next three days.

The following afternoon, my wife and I couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. The sheer, incredible timing of it all. I raised the issue of the "used" permission. She just smiled and said she would let me know.

Two days later, while I was watching television, she whispered in my ear:

"Tonight is your night honey."

I turned around and my wife had on the same silk robe she had worn during our previous play night. Glancing down, I could see her black, nylon stocking clad legs. The scent of her perfume was unmistakable. We retired to the bedroom where she immediately told me to remove the chastity device. I took a shower to freshen up while she turned down the bed and lit the candles. When I came back into the bedroom, nude and still damp, my dick at a jaunty forty-five degree angle and hard enough to cut diamond, I found her lounging on the bed, propped on a pillow, in the same black teddy she'd had on the previous play time.

As I climbed onto the bed, she said

"Now where were we."

We both laughed as she pushed me down flat on the bed and immediately took a firm grip on my shaft. Her mouth formed in a large "O" as she lowered her face down, taking half of my fully engorged dick into her warm, soft mouth. All I could do was suck air in through clenched teeth and moan loudly in response to the sharp bolt of pleasure that seemed to explode outward from my groan. For several minutes she slowly laved every inch of my cock, as she gripped and slowly pumped the base of my shaft with her hand. Even with all of my Tantric techniques, I knew I wouldn't last long - and I didn't want to.

As if reading my mind, she stopped the incredible blow job and wordlessly climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. As I touched and massaged her firm breasts and hard nipples, she took me in hand and guided me to center of all pleasure. She took all of me in one downward thrust of her hips, my cock penetrating her to the hilt; the head pressed up against her cervix. The speed of it took my breath away. It took a moment to absorb the incredible sensation of pleasure that coursed through me. There was no vibrator anywhere in sight. Tonight she was going to be completely focused on me.

Slowly she bent forward until her elbows came to rest on my shoulders and then leaned down to kiss me; both of our mouths parted and our tongues danced around each other before finally plunging in. She slipped her arms under my armpits and gripped the top of my shoulders. Then she thrusted down hard onto my rigid staff, using her hands on my shoulders to pull herself back up. On the second hard thrust down, I thrust upward to meet her and we both gasped in pleasure. Every nerve ending in my penis seemed to be bursting with electrical pleasure. It didn't seem possible that anything could feel this good.

For several minutes we fucked in perfect sync. Then, as our passions rose, all order was lost as we fucked in wild abandon. We were like a couple of hormone saturated teenagers going at it, our rational minds completely shut down - turned off for the duration. It was all about pleasure, uncivilized, animalistic, ungentle fucking.

When I came, the muscular spasm in my legs was so powerful that I nearly threw her off me. She was riding a wild bull and just hanging on for dear life. For about ten seconds I was just a collection of spasms, jerks, twitches and nerve endings on fire with pleasure that were so intense that it almost crossed over into pain. For those ten seconds, nothing existed outside of us. It was ten seconds of utter, unexplainable, bliss. I pumped twenty-four days worth of semen into her as I held her tightly on my spurting dick. Finally, I collapsed in exhaustion and utter satiation; my arms and legs splayed out and lifeless. She collapsed on top of me.

Again, I experienced another gap in time as though I had jumped from one time to the next. I didn't really pass out - but I had checked out for awhile, drifting somewhere between that time and this. When I regained my senses, I felt her warm, sweaty body on top of me, her damp hair in my face - her face turned sideways, cheek to cheek with me. I could feel my semen leaking out of her, down my softening cock that was still inside her, onto my balls and the inner parts of my thighs. We lay like that, together for some time, before she roused herself. As she rose from me she looked down into my eyes and just smiled before disappearing into the bathroom for a shower.

It took a few minutes before I could muster the strength to get up and begin straightening up the bed and putting things away. I thought about taking a shower but decided against it. I wanted to go to sleep with the scent of my wife still on me, still present with me. When my wife returned all washed, scrubbed and clean, I felt I had lost something, a connection we shared as we made love. It was our true selves - musky, sweaty, scent and all. We kissed and hugged each other and said goodnight. Our arms remained entwined as we lay down to sleep.

Before I drifted off, it occurred to me that not only could my sex life be neatly divided into pre and post male chastity lifestyle, but the rest of my life as well. As much as I loved sex and my wife when we first got married, it was nothing close to the intensity of feelings I had for her now. Every day was a joy and in many ways, a new adventure. I felt the exhilaration of having discovered or rediscovered some ancient secret known only to a lucky few. And I was grateful to be one of those lucky few. I slept deeply without any drugs save those I produced myself, content in the knowledge that tomorrow the next cycle would begin.