It's 5 AM, and the morning erection just woke me up like a fire in my groin.
Yesterday, my keyholder and I slipped a condom under the straps at the head
of my Stallion Guard, which provided some relief from the pain. It tore as we
tugged it through, then dislodged itself during the night, leaving me wide
open to the pre-dawn "alarm clock" that is a new fact of my life. I hope
this biofeedback effect works, or that I find a comfortable solution one of
these days.
My keyholder/mistress/wife has been impressed with what she sees as my much revived and more sensitive approach to sex; she's getting into touching a lot.
But that doesn't stop her from some mischief. Last night, she gave me a book she had read called The Edge of the Bed: How Dirty Pictures Changed My Life by Lisa Palac. (Little Brown) Although this is a literate (almost literary) memoir, it is extraordinarily explicit about sex, porn, S&M, erotic film- making, lesbian magazines, piercing, tattoing, and just about anything else involving the use and abuse of human genitalia. Of course, my imprisoned member tried a jail break as I was reading it.
Because the two-padlock design of the Stallion Guard is remarkably clunky and obvious under summer clothes, I borrowed a trick from advertising photographers, first putting on a pair of bikinis, then pulling some regular white briefs over them. (If you've ever wondered why you can't see a bulge in most male underwear ads, this is the reason; I've learned a few things after 20 years in the media.) This book, however, did a good job of defeating even this cosmetic attempt; my walking shorts showed distinct signs of excitement.
When she noticed, my wife/keyholder/mistress/torturer/love did what usually would come naturally -- slipped her hand under the two layers of briefs, and began caressing. Of course, she was touching leather and metal.,not me. "You are hard!", she marvelled, but of course, that was only very partly true; the base of my cock, which this third-rate device doesn't cover, had turned into a tree stump. The business end was curved, fighting for a hardness it couldn't reach, and unspeakably horny. She idly held and stroked me until I finally had to ask her to stop. I couldn't take another second of what a few days ago would have been pleasure, but now has turned into exquisite pain. My cock didn't feel a single bit of her touch, but my brain remembered it well enough to drive me mad.
Now we have agreed that, every day, she will teach me a new kind of pleasing touch to stimulate her. As I have mentioned, I am semi-permanently locked, except for supervised sessions of applying soothing oil and talc, changing devices to ease the stress, and making sure no serious damage is done. I will have my next orgasm only after she has hers--and, after so many years together, it may take me a while to find some tricks that please her. In the meantime, while she sleeps peacefully, I have doused everything between my legs with baby oil to ease the friction, and sat here while my member slowly admitted defeat and retreated. This entire experience is painful, frustrating, and incredibly stimulating. I've never had such an adventure.
Jeremy
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Page last updated 98-Oct-01 by: Altairboy@aol.com