10 Days Until We’re Reunited, 5 Until The Denial Starts

10 days until I’m back home with my wife, being deliciously abused.  Waiting for me are all the old toys — my wife’s cock, aka the strap-on; shackles; handcuffs; my nice leather belt; clamps for various parts of my body; shower curtains to lay on during golden showers; and best of all, my beloved collar. Play only really begins once she has me on my knees and she puts that collar on.

New additions, as I’ve discussed before over the past few weeks, include a leather flogger, a riding crop, a ball-gag, and officially, a bit and reins. I’m excited, especially about the sexy corsets I bought her.

She sent me this email the other day:

“You are so deserving of the ass-fuckings, beatings and golden showers you are going to get in 11 days! I have so much planned for us while you are here…all of it naughty! As soon as everyone leaves for their Thanksgiving trips, I am going to inventory our toy bag to see if we need refills, cleanings, etc. to make sure it is all ready for your arrival. Also, I just ordered your “birfday” gifts. Hopefully, all of our toys will arrive prior to your visit. That way, we can make the most of our time together.”

I love her emails. That one was a bit more playful than the run of the mill, evil-twin emails, where she is stern and aggressive, but playful is fun, too.

The thing is, reading that email and going over old blog entries, I realized something is missing from my reports of our fevered planning sessions and the tales of our lost weekends, squirreled away in hotel room or our house:

Sex.

Penetrative, my cock in her — is there no good “cock” counterpart word for vagina? — vagina, SEX.

We have it. We have a lot of it. My wife likes it best out of all of our bag of tricks, no matter how fun the rest of it is. Despite the fact that my wife doesn’t orgasm during sex, she loves it. The sound. The feel. It’s God’s cruel joke on some women that the bit of their body that makes them come is sometimes an inch higher than it should be to allow them to easily get their cookies during standard sex, but it doesn’t matter — sex is good.

I don’t know why I don’t talk about it. I mean, penetrative, male-in-female-sex is still the heart of our sexual play. I guess because we’ve been doing the BDSM thing, and this is a blog about the BDSM thing, I focus more on me getting striped or dominated or pegged or pissed on, but there, at the center of it all, keeping all those things in its orbit — sex.

I have the best orgasms since she’s been dominating me. I feel huge, powerful, like a machine, when I ride her, although to be utterly fair, she does a lot more riding these days. She usually spends a good amount of time hitting me or pegging me or doing all sorts of cool-order-me-around-like-a-butler-dog-on-a-leash-things before she lets me get inside her, and that winds me up.

The problem with the winding up, though, is that I have this problem with overstimulation — if I get really wound up, I don’t go off prematurely. Instead, it takes me forever to come. I call it “the kid on Christmas day” problem, because it’s like it’s my birthday or Christmas morning — I’m so excited by all of the toys and festivities that I’m never focused on one thing enough to get relief. I can go for hours. On the one hand, it’s cool — I’d much rather have a problem with taking a long time to come than one where I go off like a gun with a hair-trigger. On the other hand, my wife likes it when I come. She feels like that’s a nice little spot to take a break on. If she dominates me and pegs me and gets me to go down on her a couple of times over a couple hours, she thinks we should have some fantastic sex for a half hour and then rest for a bit. The sex is — no pun intended — the climax. And since she’s already come a couple of times at this point, this part is mainly about me. A half hour of sex is nice. Longer than that, though — well, “Hurry up, already.”

Her workaround, now that we’re into BDSM, is teasing and orgasm denial. The hotel visit a couple months ago was preceded by a week of enforced chastity for me, riddled with dirty emails and phone calls from her graphically describing how her good boy was going to get dominated, pegged, pissed on, abused, and then screwed. When we first met up, she dragged out the trip to the hotel from the airport, forcing me to shop with her, buy her lunch, pick out my collar, etc. By the time we got to the hotel, I was humming like a livewire. Before anything else — any BDSM, other than some domination as she told me what to do — we had sex.

I went off in, like, ten minutes. She is a dominant-wife mastermind, I tell you. There’s the cure for the kid on Christmas day problem: teasing and denial. Push me past the point of overstimulation to the point where any stimulation will send me over the edge.

The problem with teasing and denial is I’m just not very good at it. I never got out of that high school “masturbate before sleep” phase, or masturbating when I’m bored, or masturbating when I wake up — so I basically masturbate at least a couple of times per day, often more. Every day. In my thirties. (Hey, I’m basically a bachelor down here while my wife and kid are living away from me, I have my place to myself.) If I don’t get my daily fix, I’m okay — but once we hit day three or four without some self-abuse, I start getting agitated. Grumpy. “Pissy,” as my wife calls it, and the pissiness is aggravated by teasing.

So my wife has to find that middle-ground between teasing and denial where I’m actually hotter and happier and hornier because I’ve gone without, and that point where I’m an utterly tense, grumpy, jackass. The sad thing is, I envy guys who can last a long time — Fetish Lore has a whole forum on enforced chastity, and a lot of the male sub bloggers I read proudly keep track of how long they’ve been since their last orgasm. Not so me, though: I should consign myself to the Island of Misfit Toys, because my sorry ass becomes a jerk after a trifling three or four days, especially when there’s teasing involved.

I expect she’ll ask for me to start holding back in about six days, after a big work thing I have next Saturday. (I do not like to go into work pent up and aggravated, so I hope she’ll understand that and hold off until that’s over.) I wish I could figure out some way to go without for longer — I love it when she dominates me, but the whole control-of-my-orgasm-thing has been very hot in theory, but very hit and miss in practice, with us. I want to give up that control, but…it’s the one thing where I feel like my sexuality is not in tune with everything else we do.

Ah well, with everything else right, there’s got to be one thing wrong, right? And besides, we live apart, seeing each other once a month — I mean, I’m teased and denied enough, the way I see it.