Liveblogging my Weekend.

My wife is in town. This is good.

She and I had a brilliant morning, absolutely fun, and I enjoyed her presence immensely. We flirted, we talked, and we just kind of absorbed each other’s presence when there wasn’t anything to say. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and she’s a great person to spend the morning with.

Of course, then we got back to my place, and she decided to do my laundry, and I started busting her balls about how she did laundry. (This would be less of an issue, but she’s constantly commenting on how fresh my laundry smells, and how she can never get hers to be that perfect.) And I think I hit a nerve or hurt her feelings, or just took it too far, because she got mad and switched into domme mode and announced that there would be no sex now until she was ready.

“Is this punishment?” I asked.

“Yes. Clearly, fear of a whipping is not going to keep you from being a smartass. So now, I’m taking away sex.”

I complained quite a bit about this. It’s one thing if we’re in a BDSM context for me to be a smartass and get punished, but it’s another thing entirely for it to happen while I’m just joking around harmlessly and have no idea there are consequences just for…well, for being me. And now, instead of the normal punishment, I’m going to lose out on sex? When we’ve only got four days together?

I explained this to her — and more to the point, I explained how she can somehow function as a sexual camel when I can’t. And she said that I was right, that it wasn’t fair for her to change the rules like that. And because the mood was strained, she told me to lay down on my bed and we held each other and made out, and then after a minute she reached down and undid my belt. “Make love to me,” she said assertively.

And we did. And because I was wound up and it had been a while since I had come — but not so long I was fit to burst — I couldn’t come. We had sex for twenty minutes, and she hit me and tortured my nipples and scratched my body, and even did this new thing where it felt like she was trying to scrape my nipple off with her thumbnail. But no orgasm. Every time she hit me, she got wetter. Every time I was hit, I got harder. It was marvelous, but…no go.

So I went down on her and gave her a fantastic orgasm, and then she went down on me and then tried to finish me with a handjob, but my penis was still unwilling to drive toward completion. I wasn’t frustrated — to be honest, I think she gets more frustrated than I do, since each of my orgasms is a kind of milestone and signal for the scene/session to end.

We sat and talked and kissed, and then I asked her if she wanted to see some BDSM porn. She’s never watched it, never really read it, she’s just kind of been a mainstream girl. I loaded up something I’d downloaded from meninpain.com and she watched it intently. And I asked her, “Does this arouse you?” And she said, “Yes. It’s so nice to see how they handle it and it gives me ideas.” She critiqued the domme and her eyes widened at certain points, and she started touching me again.

“Let’s have sex.” I said. And we had sex with the porn in the background, and I think she thought I needed it, but I didn’t: what I needed was her. What I needed was for the world to recede to just her. And after a few moments, her eyes rolled back as I found my rhythm and she got a relaxed smile on her face, and I grabbed the remote and turned the porno off and just focused on her — the feel of her sex, the wet warmth of it; the look on her face; her breathing and infrequent moans; the way her breasts shook with each thrust.

And then I was drowning in it, and I asked for permission to come and she granted it. I came, and it was so intense in a way that it hasn’t been in a while. And I realized that this weekend may be the weekend she gets pregnant, and I felt even more potent, even more satisfied, even in the midst of my own submission.