Friday, December 14, 2007

Yes please or I can go on enjoying my Alpha Male part II

In the first part of this story [I can go on enjoying my Alpha Male http://teaseanddenial.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html], I described how an argument about the Alpha / Beta male theory resulted in my wife, Heather, ending up taking an Alpha male lover for the second half of the school term where she taught.

What started as an experiment to prove that I was the epitome of a Beta male, had rapidly gotten out of hand as my previously totally faithful and prim schoolteacher wife discovered that I was indeed a Beta male, whilst a colleague who was leaving the school at the end of the term was a perfect Alpha male for a short no-complications relationship.

This resulted in me being locked into a CB3000 (my fault) for the second half of the term, whilst she (as much to her surprise as mine after 25 years of a faithful monogamous relationship) ended up being regularly fucked by her school colleague. And fucked she was, according to her. There is no way it could have been labelled making love!

Now read on …

The end of term arrived, and with it Heather's obvious disappointment that her lover was leaving for pastures new, whilst I had no such regrets and fondly imagined that this would be the point where I was unlocked and normal service would be resumed.

As we led up to the day, any discussions about what would happen had been met with a continuing reminder that it had been my idea in the first place and that the experiment had been all about Heather being in control of her submissive Beta male (me), and that was the way it would stay until the end of term. Discussion finished!

School always broke up on a Friday, and so I imagined that Friday night, or (more probably) Saturday morning would see my release. A sharp "Don't pester me, I'm tired" had greeted my advances on the Friday night, which hadn't surprised me as Heather is always tired at the end of the week and more so as the term dragged on. This night she had even more of an excuse for being tired and moody as she had been out nearly all night the previous night meeting her colleague for "the last time". The date had only started quite late on, as Heather has a choral society that she sings with that rehearses in the early part of a Thursday evening, and didn't end up meeting him in their usual pub until 10pm. In the end she had not arrived home until getting on for 5am, and was in a pretty bedraggled state and very moody, and although she came to bed she didn't appear to sleep at all before getting up with the alarm at 7am. She hadn't wanted to talk about it at all, but had as on previous times, guided my hand down to feel her swollen pussy, at the same time holding on to my constrained Percy with her other hand and finding it amusing that Percy swelled uncomfortably as I felt the soggy mess.

So, as we went into the following morning, Saturday, I had really looked forward to this being my "release day".

As had become my normal routine in the last few weeks, I was up before Heather and had made fresh bread (thank you Panasonic), fresh Grapefruit, orange juice, Greek yoghurt and coffee for breakfast ready for when she awoke, which was even later than usual at about 10am.

On bringing her breakfast in to the bedroom, I had been greeted with a loving smile that made me sure that Nookie was surely on the cards.

We ate breakfast in companionable silence, and then putting the breakfast tray on the floor, started to make love, with me concentrating on Heather's sensitive nipples. Soon he was whimpering quietly and reaching out for her trusty vibrator, when I guided her hand down to my still caged Percy as a reminder to her of my state.

She grabbed hold - hard.

"Hang on!", I said, "Aren't you forgetting something?".

She smiled at me. "Just one last time before I let you out", she replied, "I promise that I will let you out this afternoon". And gave me such a beautiful grin, and a tweak of Percy, that I couldn't refuse her.

It didn't take long for her vibrator to finish the job, and we lay in each other's arms until nearly lunchtime, with Heather dozing but still holding on to Percy.

True to her word, after lunch and a bottle of cider, we went back to bed and Heather very tenderly let me make love to her twice. The second time was necessary as the first time I came within seconds of entering her, a surprisingly disappointing experience for me as well as her. Fortunately, Heather was amused at this and having learned that her describing her experiences with her lover seemed to excite me, proceeded to describe every detail of that last night with him, which brought Percy back to attention and ready for a bout of action that both of us found more satisfying.

We stayed in bed for most of the afternoon, being lazy, and then got up for the evening and a special meal that I had planned for the occasion, although Heather had insisted that she cook it rather than me. After dinner, I washed up as had been our previous sharing of duties prior to the experiment. Heather even helped and made the coffee. It looked as though normal service had been completely resumed!

Normal service was the way it stayed for the whole of the next week leading up to the Easter holiday weekend. Various bits of family came and went over the weekend, and as usual everyone shared with the catering and clearing up. There was a monstrous amount of washing of bed sheets and towels after they had all gone, and Heather (being on holiday) did most of it while I worked at my job.

And so two weeks of her two and a half week Easter holiday passed by, and we found ourselves with another potentially lazy weekend together with the start of term looming ahead in the middle of the following week. Our love making had resumed much of the previous pattern, which is always slightly more frequent during holidays than the "once during the week and twice at weekends" which was the term time norm.

As we finished lovemaking on the Sunday and were lying drowsily together, I couldn't help but feel that there was something missing. Don't get me wrong, it had been very pleasurable, but there was a tension or frissance missing.

"Do you miss your Alpha male?", I asked.

That opened up the discussion properly and we went on to analyse the whole experiment in depth, with me explaining to Heather about the strong subspace feelings that I had whenever she was with him. Feelings which are incredibly erotic and exciting, made even more so by the combination of being locked up and unable to get sexual relief myself whilst knowing she was being fully satisfied. Although Heather accepted how I had felt, she couldn't understand it and said she could see nothing remotely exciting in a sexual episode which would leave her not finished off! We decided that this must be one of the defining characteristics of a "Beta Male". She probed about any jealousy I might have felt, really checking out that it had not damaged our relationship and my love for her. I was able to reassure her that although I had felt some jealousy, the fact but that she could never love or want to live with him, and even disliked and despised him left me still as much as ever in love with her and confident that she loved only me.

Heather in turn told me that for her it had been an equivalent constant sexy erotic feeling, reminding her of our early days together. Although she disliked him, she said that from the start of their physical relationship (even in the week between her first aborted meeting with him and the meeting the following week when she did let him make love to her), she had felt hot between the legs and got damp every time she saw him. She said that she just felt quite wanton with tears running down her legs whenever he came really close or talked to her. She said she was actually quite pleased that it was over, as she was finding it difficult to concentrate on her job as she kept bumping in to him all round the school, and she felt flushed and silly whenever that happened. That last bit made me feel much more at ease about it all.

"Would you want to do it again?", I asked.

Heather looked at me in amazement, and replied that she had really been assuming that the end of the experiment was the end of the experiment and that was it. She was glad to have done it, glad to have it confirmed that she was still attractive, glad to have it confirmed that she could be and feel sexy herself, but had not thought of going any further, and definitely had no intention of trying to keep in touch now that he had left the school.

She went quiet, and I didn't interrupt her contemplation as she looked at me intently, then her eyes glazed over and eventually came back to me as she was clearly thinking quite deeply about it all. All the while she was thinking, I was also reminiscing about the highs and lows, but mostly sexual highs, that I had felt for those six weeks of "the experiment".

It was maybe ten minutes before she eventually said quietly. "Yes, please".

Somehow she managed to convey a real desire in the please, together with a very definite request for permission from me. I was somehow not in any doubt that if I said no, then she would drop it, but I've never been able to refuse Heather anything she has really wanted, and she knows it.

I was amazed at the way Percy went rock hard in seconds as she said "Yes please", and since I was lying up alongside Heather she couldn't miss that fact. Before I could reply, she said quickly "Only if and when the time and the person is right, and I have nothing and no one in mind at the moment".

We snuggled again, and Heather while stroking a still rock-hard Percy said "You'd better do something with that", and we proceeded to make love again, with Heather very unusually letting me mount her only a couple of hours after the previous time. I couldn't remember having Heather a second time within 24 hours since we had been trying to get her to conceive nearly 25 years earlier! It was strange the way her pussy felt different, still being damp from my previous cumming a couple of hours earlier, and I said so, describing it as "Sloppy seconds!".

"Better than normal?", she asked, and I had to agree that it did feel better because although it was still slippery, there was more friction than just her own juices provided.

The discussion ended there with Heather looking thoughtful. We didn't get around to finalising agreement or not to her "Yes, please" and we drifted through the rest of the evening.

Nothing much happened for a few weeks, and then Heather caught me completely by surprise one Thursday night as she came in from choir practice proceeded to drag me upstairs to bed, and started to undress herself and me with a great deal of haste.

Now this was so unusual that I wasn't going to object, was I? Soon we were both naked and in a passionate embrace. After fondling her sensitive nipples for just a short time, Heather said to me "come on in, I want you in right now". I took my hand from her nipple and started to move it down the bed intending to start teasing her clit. She took hold in my hand and said "no come straight in, I'm ready".

No sooner had I slid in to her, then she looks straight into my eyes and asked "how does that feel then?".

Something in the way she asked, made me put two and two together, and I recognised the feeling as being more like the "Sloppy seconds" I had felt when I had made love to her a few weeks earlier the second time within a couple of hours.

"Well?", she asked.

I didn't actually answer her, but smiled gently as her and proceeded to slide in and out at a very gentle pace, savouring the way that she felt, and I'm sure she could see the enjoyment in my face. In hardly any time at all I could feel her spasming around me, and I came in copious amounts in harmony with her.

After we both subsided and were lying in each other's arms, I looked critically at her and asked her what had happened at choir practice.

"There wasn't a choir practice tonight", she admitted, and went on to tell me the story.

There never had been going to be a choir practice, because there had been various problems that had all come up together about availability of the conductor and accompanist. What she had done was to meet up with, as she put it, another "Alpha male". In fact, she admitted, he hadn't turned out to be an Alpha male at all and she had had to do most of the running and had been rather disappointed. So, she said the occasion would not be being repeated, and she wouldn't actually tell me who it was that had been her lover for the evening.

What she did tell me was that right from the start when the opportunity had come her way she had thought back to my reactions when we had discussed about the experiment and whether we would ever repeat it. She said that she had been pretty sure that I was game for her to do a modest amount of new experimentation because of the way that Percy had sprung to attention when she had replied to me "Yes please". She also said that she had remembered is the way I had said that the feeling of cum already inside her had made the sliding Percy in more sensuous, and so had planned to reward me with "Sloppy seconds" right from the start.

"Did you enjoy it?", she asked, "and would you like me to do it again?".

"Yes please", I replied.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Deny yourself by all means

This tale starts three months ago when I arrived home from the USA from a ten day business trip to both the East and West coasts, ending up with the long overnight flight back from Los Angeles, arriving in the early afternoon into Heathrow.

While I was away, I indulged in my fantasy play based around my wife, Heather, being my dominant mistress who makes me wear my CB3000 whenever I am away from her, and even imagining that it is a permanent fixture.

In fact nothing could have been further from the truth. Although my wife knew that I had the CB3000 and fantasised about her being dominant with me, she actually was always too caring to want to deprive me (her words) and in fact really did not want to be involved with chastity play or be involved with the CB3000 at all.

Heather knew, because I told her, that I would play the submissive slave role out by putting on my CB3000 before I left home on these trips, and would keep it on until I got home again at the end of the trip. All the time secured by one of the plastic tags that do not set off the security alarms at the airport. She thought I was mad, but since I was away from her and it didn't affect her, she would say "Deny yourself by all means, but don't expect me to do the same", and I knew she meant that her favourite vibrator would be pressed into service when she felt like it, even if I denied myself.

I initially tried to get Heather involved with "tease and denial" at home, but she was not interested. However over the last two years, I encouraged her to focus on her own needs in the bedroom and had been making some headway with persuading her that she did not always have to accommodate me inside her, if she felt sexy but didn't want the bother of all the mess of me going off inside her. And so a form of "tease and denial" had been initiated. After a while of her asking whether I wanted her to give me a hand job after she had finished her own orgasm after these love making sessions, I had also persuaded her that I didn't need to be finished off. She came to realise that I did in fact enjoy this soft form of "tease and denial" and because this didn't require her actually to do anything other than enjoy sex, she tolerated it. She admitted that I had become a pretty attentive lover, and that my technique was such that she always had a really strong orgasm. She had muttered a bit about missing a good cock every now and again, but she didn't seem all that bothered as she seemed content to have me make her go off.

The overall effect of this was that she was willing to make love far more frequently (which I thoroughly enjoyed), although the times I went off inside her was becoming fewer and fewer (which I also perversely enjoyed).

Anyway, back to three months ago.

When I arrived at Heathrow, I was met by my usual taxi to take me home, and driving along the M4 the phone rang. It was Heather.

She had just popped out of work to welcome me back home, and to warn me that she had to go out to a club that she was involved with in the evening, but that she was going to be home from work as soon as she could to see me first.

When I got home I quickly unpacked as usual and had a shower and fresh set of clothes, and waited in anticipation for Heather to get home.

She wasn't long, but instead of our usual enjoyable re-union and a rush of exchange of stories about the time apart, I was very surprised when she announced that she wanted to "have a quickie" before she went out.

Not being one to turn such an offer down, it must have taken me all of 20 nanoseconds to get stripped off and between the sheets. Heather quickly followed and discovered to her pleasure that Percy was well risen for the occasion.

"Has poor little Percy been locked up while he was away from his little pussy", she teased, fondling Percy with one hand, and grabbing her vibrator in the other. "Well you might as well have stayed in your little cage because you're going nowhere just now. I don't have time to clean myself up before going out".

Wow! This was a radical departure for Heather, who had never before showed anything other than distaste for the CB3000, and always our first love making session after I was away included me coming inside Heather as I had by definition already been denied for a week or more. She always used to believe that I needed relief after being away from her for a week or more.

I didn't have much time to think about it though, as it took her less than five minutes to get to a crashing orgasm as my fingers fondled and her vibrator did the hard work.

There was no offer of "finishing you off" for me, and she kissed me sexily as she hurriedly pulled her clothes back on and headed out to her club, leaving me feeling as exhausted as if I had been in the middle of a whirlwind (which is what it felt like!)

After she went out I was tempted to finish myself off, especially as for years Heather has been a once (at the most) a day girl and so satisfaction later on was most certainly not assured. However, I mused that since I fantasised over "tease and denial", actually I had just been given what I craved, so resolved to see how the rest of the night panned out.

Heather usually arrives home just after 9pm from her club, so I waited up for her despite being tired. By 9.30pm she hadn't shown up, and so I though that she must have gone with the crowd for a drink, which is not unusual in itself, but she usually does call me up and tell me, and I usually go and have a drink with them all and walk her home. Anyway, I wasn't worried, and sure enough she arrived home at around 10.30pm, saying that she hadn't called me because I might have gone to sleep, and explaining that her flushed appearance was from her walking briskly back from the pub to see me.

This time, we exchanged all our news about the week, our kids (who have both left home) and I gave her the present of a set of hand made earrings which I had bought for her. She gave me a really big hug for those!

I pleaded that I was tired from jetlag, and so we headed for bed.

As we settled down, I thought to sleep, we snuggled together and as we clung to each other she said to my amazement "Let's make love again, I want to say thank you for the earrings".

Once again though, she said she would prefer me not to come in as "these are clean sheets, and anyway you get more excited by not coming in so I'm giving you a special thank you aren't I?"

As I fondled Heather and slid a finger up her, she was very wet, which made my denial even more sweet and frustrating. Her extra wetness intrigued me, and I thought that her new assertiveness and positive role in "tease and denial" must be turning her on.

Afterwards, we snuggled again and then went to sleep. As I drifted off, feeling frustrated but happy, I puzzled a bit over the evening. Surprise number one: Heather had jumped on me as soon as we met up, whereas usually we talk and may be make love at bedtime. Surprise number two: she had not wanted me in, whereas she usually does first time after we have been apart. Surprise number three: she wanted to make love again a few hours later, whereas she hasn't wanted to make love twice in a day for years. Surprise number four: she didn't want me in a second time, knowing we had had a long time apart. Well, maybe all my blandishments about tease and denial were really working. Surprise number five: how wet and ready she was. But most of all, Surprise number six: acknowledging the CB3000 and (I think) consciously giving me some "tease and denial".

The next day was Saturday, so the alarm was not set and we both slept in. When we woke up there was a distinct smell of dried semen, and I was worried that I must have cum in the night, but didn't remember doing so, nor did the bed around me seem matted. I just hoped Heather wouldn't notice because she would be annoyed about the clean sheets being messed up. When she awoke, true to weekend form Heather was frisky before we got up, but once again suggested that I just make her come and go without myself, which I was quite happy to do.

Thinking I was on a roll here, I was very attentive to Heather's sexual needs all weekend, but she wasn't interested again on the Saturday, or the Sunday.

Monday I was at work and, knowing that Heather would be out at an evening class until about 9pm, I told Heather that I would work late. I duly arrived home about 10pm. Heather arrived soon afterwards, again quite flushed from walking quickly up the road, and she was hot to make love again, although still discouraging of me coming in. I was delighted to find her quite wet again.

The pattern continued, with Heather not being interested in Sex on the nights when she and I were both in early, but was always keen and very wet and ready every evening that either she was out herself or else when I arrived home late. I began to find excuses for being home later, because I knew those would be sex nights.

However, she never encouraged me to come in her, and being (in my mind) her sex slave, I did not push it. I was very happy that she seemed to be getting so turned on so regularly. Our once or twice a week has suddenly risen to seven or eight times, granted it was Heather alone that was cumming.

Two weeks after I got home, on the Saturday, she said that she needed to go out shopping and left about 10am in the morning, saying that she would not be home until late afternoon. She actually got home about 4pm, and almost immediately encouraged me into bed, and, at last, to enter her. As it was nearly for weeks since I had that pleasure, I sunk Percy into her and I had never known her so slick and ready. Her wetness made her feel cavernous, and I could hardly feel her, but the slick warmth and my build up of four weeks quickly made me pump my seed inside her. She was not best amused, as I couldn't last until she had her orgasm, and as her muscles started to squeeze as she used her vibrator, she inadvertently and spontaneously pushed my now limp Percy out, together with a load of cum.

Although I felt that I had come a lot, the amount she squeezed out as she had her own orgasm, and which ran down her thighs onto the sheet, seemed far more than I thought I had pumped into her. I must be more macho than I thought.

The next two weeks were much the same, with me being denied the whole time, but Heather being definitely randy and very wet whenever I arrived home late or she had been out herself earlier in the evening.

On the Sunday afternoon, the phone rang and she rushed to it before I had a chance to answer. It was a friend of hers who had, apparently, just broken up with her boyfriend and so Heather had to go and comfort her. I may be away all night Heather told me as she left, see you tomorrow (Monday) when you get back from work.

On the Monday evening, I arrived home to find that Heather had been crying. She wouldn't tell me why, saying that her hormones were just affecting her. But she was not interested in sex, and remained uninterested for the next two weeks, and didn't seem to go out to her clubs nearly as much, and certainly was back pretty promptly from those that she did go to. I was not very happy, as by now I had been without for four weeks again, but being denied is only fun if there is some "tease" with it, and Heather being completely off sex hardly counted as "tease and denial". I kept asking her what was wrong, but she just rather shortly replied "nothing", and that she "just didn't feel like it".

Then at the end of those two weeks, later in the evening on Friday there was another phone call, and Heather said that this friend of hers, with the boyfriend trouble, desperately needed her comfort again and she rushed upstairs and had a shower and headed out dressed in some of her sexiest gear, including a very sexy black bra and pantie set that I had bought her as a present. I thought that it was extremely thoughtful of her as I guessed that she must be planning on taking her friend out to some club or other to help her get over the boyfriend trouble.

Heather arrived home late the following afternoon, and looked very hot and flustered. She had obviously had a very difficult time helping out her friend, and was keen to have a relaxing bath. I ran a nice bubble bath for her, and helped her get undressed and into the bath.

I couldn't help but notice that she had lost her knickers. Clearly she had got up so quickly that morning that she forgot them. That would also account for the matted pubic hair, as without her knickers there was nothing to soak up the sweat as she drove home in the heat. Our car has leather seats and it can get quite sweaty. She also had bruises around her nipples, and when I showed concern, she told me that some idiot had made her brake hard and that she had bashed against the steering wheel. I really must get the seat belts checked, that shouldn't have happened.

When we went to bed that night, she was obviously feeling pretty frisky, and since I hadn't been inside her for four weeks I begged her to let me enter her, saying that she must fancy a cock inside her after all this time. She seemed amused by the idea, although I couldn't quite work out why and once she got going she opened her legs wide and invited me to climb on.

As I pounded away inside her, she hardly seemed to notice, but when I started to come she got pretty angry, telling me that she could hardly feel me and that all I had succeeded in doing was making her mucky without giving her any pleasure. Almost before I had subsided, she pushed me out and rolled me on my back and climbed on top of me.

"I think there will have to be some changes", she said. "I can hardly feel you inside me nowadays, and I find you so much better as my 'Sex Slave' fondling the bits I tell you to, while I use my vibrator".

"I would like that to be your permanent role", she went on, "that and giving me a good licking whenever I feel like it. You can start by licking me to the orgasm I missed, and by the way cleaning all your cum out of me".

And so I did. It was the first time I had licked her out after cumming in her and the taste seemed different, but I have now learned that this is the way she tastes most of the time. When I finished she climbed up astride me and looking down at me said "And, since you wont be using that little Percy of yours on me, I don't want you getting any other ideas, so I will permit you to wear your CB3000 whenever you leave the house - and you can leave the key with me"

So, for the next six weeks up to now that has been my role. After a week or so of me taking the CB3000 on and off, she got fed up with me asking her for the key and told me to leave it on permanently (apart from a weekend cleanout).

She nearly always now asks me to lick her to an orgasm when she gets in late and is feeling sexy. She often seems to lose her knickers nowadays, and she is always wettest and keenest to have me lick her to orgasm when that happens.

I did offer to buy her a nice big dildo, since she complained about not being able to feel me, but she answered that "she only enjoyed the real thing". I apologised to her that I was not bigger, and that I was sorry that she was having to go without. I couldn't quite work out why she thought this was so funny, she was almost hysterical, but I was glad my offer had pleased her so much.

It is six weeks since I last came, and after begging her, Heather has agreed that she will let me come in her in another two weeks on our wedding anniversary.

So, my fantasy has become a reality. I wonder what has changed her?

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

I know there is no point in trying

From time to time I fantasised about my wife "controlling" me, and even tried to get her to keep me locked up in a CB 3000 that I had bought. She didn't want to know, and some time later actually told me that my intensity about the whole scene nearly drove her away from me. So I backed off, and ended up just fantasising about her being dominant whilst having a very loving and caring relationship.

I would resort to using the CB 3000 when I was working at home, and often when I was away on business trips, leaving the key at home and pretending that I was locked up by my wife.

I have never ever felt tempted to stray in the direction of another woman, and have (after a fashion which I will explain) kept true to her. However wearing the CB 3000 on business trips ended up having an unexpected consequence.

When I belted myself up and went away on business trips, I would very often spend the long flights and the even longer evenings staying in hotels by myself, fantasising about the uncontrollable stud that was needing to be belted by his wife. LOL! One quite long trip to the USA, I belted myself up before I left home to go to London airport for an early-morning flight and because of the airport scanners I used one of the plastic tags that comes with the CB 3000 and which has a serial number on it. Once installed, the only way of getting out of the CB 3000 is to break the tag, and since they are all individually serial numbered "your key holder" would know that you had been a naughty boy. That's the theory anyway.

It was a very long week moving from hotel to hotel, visiting companies during the day and, unusually, none of the people that I visited invited me out for the evening. So the evenings ended up feeling long and boring. I usually spend half an hour in the fitness room at the hotel before going down and having a leisurely dinner and then end up watching American football or a film on the television. During dinner I would take a novel down and sit there reading.

One evening I looked up from my novel to realise that about five or six other singles were around the restaurant all doing exactly the same thing. Two of them were quite attractive women, although neither in the full flush of youth, and so my fantasies started to work away. I started to imagine that I really was this megastud and was bold enough to go over to try and pick up one or other of these ladies. One of the things that has always held me back from chatting up single woman in hotels, has been the fear of success rather than failure, because I want to stay faithful to my wife, and was worried how I would extricate myself without upsetting someone if I did chat to them and they wanted more than just a casual friendly conversation.

Over the next couple of nights this scenario more or less repeated itself, until by the third night I had the radical idea that I actually had the ideal defence against my concern. If I were to find that one of these ladies did expect me to take them to bed, I could use the CB 3000 as the excuse as to why not. All of a sudden, lonely evenings in hotels looked to be a possible thing of the past. That night I slept on the idea, firmly resolved to give it a try the following evening.

The following evening found me in a Courtyard Marriott hotel near White Plains, and as luck would have it two more moderately attractive single women having dinner. Over the top of my novel I sized them up, and had just about decided on one of the two when she took her laptop out of her briefcase and started to work. I switched my attention to the other one, and when she reached coffee I got up from my table and went over to hers.

"Excuse me", I said in a well rehearsed line, "I'm not trying to pick you up, in fact that would be a pointless thing to me to do as I'm well prepared to explain to you if you would like me to, but I did notice that you, like me, were sitting on your own, and I thought you might just welcome some friendly conversation over your coffee".

"Are you English?" she replied, as if that explained my weird behaviour. When I admitted that I was, she then went on to say "I have an aunt living in Cheltenham, I wonder if you know her?"

I'm sure that many Americans think that England is a small town of 500 people who all know each other; however the ice was broken and I sat down with her and she introduced herself as Sharon, and we spent a very pleasant hour talking together with no flirting whatsoever.

Eventually, she apologised and said that she needed to get to bed because she had to get up early to go to the airport. There was still with no hint of invitation in the "get to bed". But she paused "But, one thing before I go, please explain to me. What did you mean by it being pointless you trying to pick me up? When you originally said that, I thought you must be gay, but clearly from our talking about your family and your wife, you aren't."

The fantasy machine swung into action, "Oh", I said casually, "that is because my wife makes me wear a chastity belt when I'm away on business trips to stop me from cheating on her, so any attempt to take you to bed would be pointless".

The effect was everything I could have hoped for. She just looked at me in amazement. "You haven't in the least bit tried to get me into bed", she said, "so I can't see what she's worried about."

"Yes", I replied, "but that's because I know there is no point in trying"

Then to my amazement, she grabbed me by the arm, and steered me towards the lift. "Please" she said, "can I see this device that you have on. I have heard about such things but never met anyone who used one before".

I just didn't know what to do, and let her steer me into the lift and up to her bedroom. Once inside the door, we just looked at each other in embarrassment for a while, and then she said "why don't I go into the bathroom for a moment while you prepare yourself and then call me out when you're ready".

I took off my shoes and trousers, and then stood up to inspect myself in the mirror. The socks, shirt and CB 3000 looked so stupid, so I decided to strip off entirely, and then feeling horribly naked, I got into her bed and pulled the sheet up over my middle.

Sharon appeared out of the bathroom when I called, wearing only her bra and knickers, and looked really attractive. She was heavier than my own petite wife, which I found different and alluring.

"I hope you don't mind", she said, "but I thought it was unfair of me to ask you to strip off without me being prepared to do the same".

She came and sat down beside me on the bed, and after a gesture from me slowly peeled the sheet back to reveal my throbbing Percy in his cage. The sight clearly fascinated her and she asked if I minded her feeling and looking more closely. Did I mind!

After a few minutes, she took her bra and knickers off and slipped into bed beside me, and still fondling and feeling around the CB 3000, she asked "this is making me so hot, it's unbelievable, would you mind very much if I make myself go off while you snuggle up against me so that I can hold your caged up prick with one hand whilst bringing myself off with the other.

I think that the whole episode must have got her so hot, that it only took a couple of minutes of her to be writhing around on the bed as she had a very prolonged orgasm.

"Wow", she uttered at last, "that was amazing, and it has the benefit of not having to worry about "safe sex" or spunk all over the sheets. I think I know what my hubby is getting for his next Christmas present!"

"Is there no way that you can come in that device", she asked. I didn't quite tell all the truth in telling her "No", in that it is possible to pull out, but it is also uncomfortable to masturbate half in and half out, and you certainly cannot service a woman when you have pulled out and still have the contraption hanging round your balls.

We talked for about 10 more minutes, and then she apologised again and said she really did need to be getting to sleep in order to get up to catch a plane in the morning. After I had got dressed she kissed me very sweetly goodbye and I went back to my own bedroom to a very frustrated night during which I was sorely tempted to break the seal, but since I didn't have another seal with me, I resisted or else I would not be able to repeat the practice the following night, and the outcome with Sharon made me keen to try again.

Since that time, I have repeated the scenario a number of times, with (depending on how you measure it) different levels of success. The most part, I just end up having a pleasant hour with my lady of choice, but many of them at some point come back to my opening line. Some just look at me as though I am mad, some are disbelieving about my CB story, and one or two even angrily thought I was making it up just to put them off. Following those episodes, I carry a photo of a CB 3000 with me to show them, which not infrequently results in a request to see what it really looks like on, but apart from Sharon there have only been two other encounters which ended up as sexual encounters, and I'll save them for another time.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Solo

Heather, my wife, used to be pretty vanilla, and for many years humoured my sexually submissive tendencies with a once or twice a year "tease and denial", usually when she was a) drunk and b) horny. At these rare times, she would be so interested in her own orgasm that she would get carried away and go off without letting me inside her. As she loves just lying in the afterglow of her orgasms, when this happened and with the drink talking, she would just round on me and say "tough", and drift off to sleep with me left unsatisfied and frustrated.

The following day, she would always (if she remembered anything at all) feel guilty about denying me. Funny really, because it was actually the one time that she ever fulfilled my fantasies of her being dominant - I actually loved it, despite (or perhaps because) of feeling unsatisfied and frustrated! This little chink in her normally straight behaviour always gave me some hope, at least in my fantasies, that there was a sexual dominatrix lurking inside her.

Now, although sexual dominatrix is probably an exaggeration, this tale reveals how Heather came out.

------

About three years ago, I discovered Altairboy and the whole world of Chastity, Tease and Denial and CBs on the internet and everything I felt fell into place. I realised that I was a sexual submissive, and got very excited about being submissive to Heather. I started to try and get Heather to take a more dominant role, and was very pushy with her about my cravings. Being Heather, she just didn't get it, and didn't want to know and I overdid it. Eventually we sorted ourselves out and bit by bit Heather started to play up to my desires.

It is interesting what some people say that a true submissive should not be "Topping from the bottom", and it might sound as though that is what I was doing, but actually Heather was being assertive in her own way. She was not going to head off into a femdom relationship at my pace, but if we were going to develop that way as a couple then the pace would be entirely hers.

At that time, our sex life had gone from daily when we first married, and sometimes more frequently at weekends, to once a week or even once a fortnight. It was clear from many little signs that Heather was interested in more frequent love making, but she wasn't interested in me pounding away or leaving her leaking cum onto the sheets, especially when she was tired to start off with. So I suggested that she should decide whether or not to let me come in her when we made love, and then only let me if she really felt like it. This didn't fit well with Heather's preconceptions of our marital relationship, reinforced by years of accommodating me, so it took a long time for her to stop being selfless.

It started to work better when I told her that I was finding it more difficult to cum regularly, but that I still loved the love-making. I persuaded her to cum herself and that I found it very exciting when she did, and that it actually helped me not to have to keep performing. I think that when she stopped being worried about my orgasm all the time, and she started to focus on her own, and we found ourselves making love far more frequently. Not back to the frequency of our first married years, but certainly up from once a week to three or four times, with me maybe only cumming in her once in the week.

The process of negotiating whether I was cumming in her or not, however, wasn't really working. Heather started to get quite insistent that I tell her when I "needed" to cum, and as I wanted the choice to be hers we got into a sticky patch, and sex declined again. She just didn't want to be seen as denying me, and so she wanted the decision to be mine. I wanted her to dominate me, and so I wanted the decision to be hers. Stalemate.

I eventually came up with an idea of using a deck of cards. We agreed that if she really would prefer to cum herself without me, then she would say so. I promised that if I felt I desperately needed to cum, then I would tell her and she would let me, but if neither of us had a strong preference then she would draw a card from the pack and if it was a picture card (J, Q or K) then I was in luck. Anything else then I was out of luck. This worked for her as the decision was no longer resting with her, but with the cards. As a twist, she would not let me know in advance and as she is quite a good actress (we met at a drama group), the first I would know of my fate was her cumming or her telling me to get inside her as she was about to cum. Fantastically exciting for me, either way. We ended up calling the game "Bedtime Solo", for obvious reasons and because Solo is actually one of our favourite card games when we are on family holidays.

Over a few months, this worked very well for us, and the frequency of her saying out straight that she wanted to go Solo without even using the cards also increased, so that during the week, when she was a bit tired at bedtime, then this would nearly always be the case, and at weekends we would use the cards to decide. She particularly likes it when we have clean sheets and she showers, and more often than not the luxury makes her feel sexy. It became a particular favourite of hers to go "Solo" without bothering with drawing a card on these occasions as she "really didn't want to get her or the sheets messy since they were both fresh and clean".

Then after a few months of this working well for us both, I had an extra-ordinarily long streak of no picture cards, which lasted for about four weeks. Finally one night, when she declared "Solo" because of the clean sheets, I ended upshooting my load spontaneously as she came with me snuggling up against her. All over her thighs and all over the clean sheets! Disaster.

Heather was not amused. She pointed out that the idea of this arrangement was that she and the clean sheets should not get messed up, and "couldn't I control myself?"

This was a first - Heather really being sexually assertive about her cumming and me definitely not cumming! I damn near shot my load again at the excitement of her berating me in this way.

My bad run on the cards continued, and two weeks later the same thing happened again. I couldn't help it. As she started to cum, my dick was hard up against her thigh and the movement (not all hers, I admit) made me cum just as she did.

Heather was not amused again, and wanted to know what I planned to do to stop it.

Now, during my heavy phase which Heather had found so difficult, when I had got all excited about the submissive scene a couple of years earlier, I had bought a couple of cock cages as part of my fantasy world. I had told Heather about them, but because she was just not interested, even horrified, we had never used them and I had not shown them to her. I had kept them and had played out some of my fantasies usually when I was away from home for a few days. Now I suggested to her that I could put myself in a cock cage before we made love, and if she drew a picture card, then she could give me the key. I suggested that if not let out then I would not be able to get properly erect in the cock cage and certainly couldn't rub up against her, so the chances of me cumming messily all over her would be near zero.

Heather was not at all sure at this idea, as the idea of CB's just didn't turn her on and in any case she actually loves holding my cock and feeling it throb uselessly as she builds up to her orgasm - which also contributes to my excitement, and my not being able to hold back these last couple of times. However, she agreed to us trying it. I chose the least "heavy" looking CB that I have, which is the CB3000. It is penis shaped and clear plastic, and quite comfortable to wear. I put one key on a 16" pure gold chain. [The spare key is now in a sealed envelope which I got Heather to sign across the flap, and it is wrapped in clear tape so it could not be opened without destroying the envelope and Heather's signature. This now lives in my wallet in case of emergencies. So far there have been none.]

The next time we went to bed to make love, I duly slipped into the bathroom and put on the CB, and locked the padlock. I then climbed into bed beside Heather and handed her the key which she put round her neck, where it looked damned sexy.

Heather, when she looked at the CB, was still not at all sure she liked the whole scene, but she did say that it looked more attractive than she had expected. She suggested that since this was a try out, there wasn't much point in me being let out this time and so we should not bother with the cards, and she should go Solo. I couldn't fault her logic nor did I want to, as it not only made sense, but played to my fantasies.

Love making was a complete success as Heather held on to the CB instead of my dick as we made love, and could easily feel it swelling and throbbing uselessly inside the cage, and the whole experience clearly worked for her as she had one of the strongest (and loudest) orgasms I can ever remember her having. All she could do afterwards was just look at me through half closed eyes and say "phew"! She just lay there in my arms with her eyes closed, and drifted off to sleep. I hadn't the heart to wake her up and ask for the key, so I had to spend the rest of the night with the CB still on.

That set the scene, and without discussing it, leaving me with the CB on all night on those occasions when the cards or Heather's wishes went against me, became the norm.

After that we went back to using the cards but continued with Heather's option to say if she wanted to go Solo without even drawing a card. Over the following weeks I noticed that there were an increasing number of times when Heather would choose to go Solo, and on those occasions she had her enjoyment, and I suppose I have to say that in my perverse way I had mine, left unsatisfied and locked up in the CB all night.

A couple of months later, Heather and I had a row over something trivial. I can't even remember now what it was about, but it was a Friday night, and the fact that we had indulged in our usual Friday evening bottle of wine had probably made us both a bit confrontational. We hardly ever row, but were both still bristling when we went to bed. We try not to go to sleep on our anger, so I snuggled up to Heather to say sorry and inevitably we started to make love.

Heather made out that she was still a bit miffed and was not easily going to be won over, and eventually said that as a punishment she was going to go Solo, so I should go and put my CB on.

Feeling quite horny at this turn of affairs, I eagerly complied and we made love with Heather clearly enjoying her Solo, but also teasing me pretty unmercifully about being locked up as a punishment.

The following morning, Saturday, another surprise for me, as Heather unusually asked to make love again before we got up, and since I was still in the CB, she demanded another Solo, and then afterwards instead of giving me the key to let myself out as we got up and showered, she said that I still had not properly apologised to her for the row the previous evening and so I could stay locked up for the rest of the day.

This was a really big change, as up to now Heather's toleration of the CB had been entirely practical as a way of stopping me messing her up when she decided to go Solo, so getting me to keep it on all day as a punishment was a huge step.

To cut a long story short, we made love a few more times over the weekend, each time Heather insisting that I stay in the CB and each time going Solo in what appeared to be ever increasing strength of orgasm. Something had clearly flipped with her and she was actually enjoying being sexually dominant and demanding, instead of just humouring me. For years, Heather had seemingly found it impossible to cum more than once a day, but here she was cumming about six times in two and a half days!

The key appeared on Monday morning and normal service was resumed during the week, i.e. Heather went Solo a couple of times, and I waited with anticipation for what might happen on Friday night.

Much to my relief as I was beginning to get quite desperate, Heather suggested the cards, and as we were making love, just as I was getting to the point of begging her for relief (something I had never done), she opened her eyes and grinned at me and gave me the key. She had drawn the Queen of Hearts. Singularly appropriate.

It was just as well that she was close to cumming by the time I got the CB off and entered her, because I couldn't last long and came in what felt like bucket loads. Something that Heather concurred with, as she complained bitterly all night about the sticky mess running out of her pussy and down her legs and forming a damp puddle under her.

We didn't make love again at all over the rest of the weekend, and when I asked her if she was OK, Heather seemed very thoughtful.

We didn't make love all week, and on Friday night as she declined our almost ritualistic Friday night love making, I finally coaxed the problem out of her.

She told me that the previous two weekends had been so different for her, and that she had been struggling to cope with the dilemma. When I asked her what she meant, she said that two weekend ago, when I had been locked up for the whole weekend, she had felt so sexually liberated - which of course was reflected in the number of times my lovely wife had cum over that weekend.

Then she said the following weekend had been so different. Firstly I had bruised her entering her, because she had not been used to having me enter her for a while and I had been over excited. Then I had filled her full of cum which had just made her feel messy all the rest of the night. To make matters worse, my entering her had hardly been very thrilling for her as I had just come almost as soon as I entered her. Finally, that experience had put her off wanting to make love any more that weekend, in stark contrast to the previous weekend.

Ouch!

There was little doubting what she was saying. And so, almost fulfilling my lifelong fantasy, I told her that I was prepared to repeat the weekend of no orgasms for me whenever she wanted it - and suggested that we start straight away that weekend.

There was a silence, and I wondered what the problem was, and then Heather explained that she hadn't just that weekend in mind, but indefinitely.

I was gobsmacked and didn't know how I felt or what to say, but she took my immediate erection as a yes, and I realised that my body and mind were not quite in agreement over this turn of events, but that my body was winning.

And so that weekend became the first of about six months of abstinence. I put the CB on each Friday evening and Heather gave me back the key on Monday morning.

I'm too proud to beg her for relief, and so built up until I came in a wet dream overnight, finding myself in the same sort of mess that Heather hated one morning. Heather was not amused as the sheets had been clean on that night, and so we had a discussion about how we could stop this happening.

And so came a new variation on our card game - once a week, usually on a Saturday, I drew a card and if it was a Jack, Queen or King then Heather would give me the key and snuggle me and help me masturbate cleanly and tidily, after which I was locked up again. If I hadn't drawn a Jack, Queen or King for four weeks, then I used an Aneros prostate massager to empty out my sperm sack and reduce the risk of night emissions. The Aneros makes you empty out your cum without any feeling of sexual relief or excitement whatsoever.

But that is not yet the end of the story.

Two months ago, Heather again went quiet one weekend, and when I asked her what the problem was she admitted that she didn't feel that she was old enough to give up normal sex altogether and that she wanted to feel a cock in her again.

I took this as an offer and pulled her towards the bedroom.

Then she dropped her bombshell.

She told me that she was enjoying our sexual relationship as it was now too much to spoil it and that she meant that she wanted to take on an occasional lover. She really emphasised how much she loved me, and loved our relationship in every way, but was insistent that the cock she would be having could not be mine or that would ruin the sub-dom relationship that we had both grown to love so much.

I guessed she must have someone in mind, and after a little coaxing she admitted that there was someone at her art class that she found quite attractive, and had been flattered because he had been coming on to her despite being about 20 years younger.

We talked about it all weekend on and off, and each time we did, my cock let me down again by showing her that I was excited by the idea despite what my mind was telling me again.

On Monday evening when I came home from work, Heather was not at home which was unusual, and did not answer my calls to her mobile phone. Monday night is her art class night, and I quickly realised what was up.

At 11pm (the art class finishes at 9pm), Heather arrived home, looking flushed, excited and positively glowing.

She would not answer my questions, although just from looking at her they didn't need much answering. She insisted that I put my CB on and come straight to bed, where she proceeded to masturbate herself in front of me to a shattering climax, with spunk clearly oozing down her legs as her spasms pushed it out. She complained bitterly about the mess - reminiscent of times gone past with me and where all this started.

She told me everything, but that is another story, save that she hadn't come home between work and her art class in case seeing me would have given her cold feet.

She was like a wild thing the rest of the week, wanting a repeat performance of my wearing the CB and her masturbating every night.

The following Monday was another surprise. She came home after work, and I watched her as she bathed, made up and put on far too sexy clothing for an art class! She told me that if I wanted to watch her then it was my place to do so only while wearing my CB, and so there I was constrained and caged watching my gorgeous wife prepared to make love to another man.

But the night's surprises did not end there.

When she arrived home at about the same late time as the previous week, she once again called me to the bedroom where she had stripped right down, but this time told me to get down and lick her clean, telling me that since another one of my "kind" has filled her full of this mess, then I should clean her up to avoid her being messy all night!

As I licked her clean, she came nosily, pushing loads more cum out into my mouth.

So that is where we are now.

The only time I see my wife naked, I am wearing a CB. I have to watch my wife dressing herself up once a week to go and meet her lover, and then I have to clean up his cum from in her when she gets home. I get to masturbate for relief at random times governed by a pack of cards, and if the cards aren't kind get to empty myself by prostate massage with no sexual relief at all.
And best of all, both Heather and I are loving every minute of it, and are more in love with each other than ever.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

While the cat's away

This tale starts three months ago when I arrived home from a trip to the Far East ending up with long flight back from Tokyo, which arrives late in the afternoon.

I had, over the last two years, encouraged my wife, Heather, to focus on her own needs in the bedroom and had been making some headway with persuading her that she did not always have to accommodate me inside her, if she felt sexy but didn't want the bother of all the mess of me going off inside her. After a while of asking whether I wanted her to give me a hand job after she had finished her own orgasm after these love making sessions, I had also persuaded her that I didn't need to be finished off and in fact enjoyed the "tease and denial". She admitted that I had become a pretty good lover, and that my technique was such that she always had a really strong orgasm. She had muttered a bit about missing a good cock every now and again, but she didn't seem all that bothered as she seemed content to have me make her go off.

The overall effect of this was that she was willing to make love far more frequently (which I thoroughly enjoyed), although the times I went off inside her was becoming fewer and fewer (which I also perversely enjoyed).

Anyway, when I arrived at Heathrow, I was met by my usual taxi to take me home, and driving along the M4 the phone rang. It was Heather.

She had, it seems, popped out of work to call me and see whether I was back safely. After all the "Welcome Home", she warned me that she had to go out to a club that she was involved with in the evening, but that she was going to be home from work as soon as she could to see me first.

When I got home I quickly unpacked as usual and had a shower and fresh set of clothes, and waited in anticipation for Heather to get home.

She wasn't long, but instead of our usual enjoyable re-union and a rush of exchange of stories about the time apart, I was very surprised when she announced that she wanted to "have a quickie" before she went out.

Not being one to turn such an offer down, it must have taken me all of 20 nanoseconds to get stripped off and between the sheets. Heather quickly followed and discovered to her pleasure that Percy was well risen for the occasion.

"You won't be needing that", she said however, fondling Percy with one hand, and grabbing her vibrator in the other. "I don't have time to clean myself up before going out".

I wasn't sure whether I was happy or miserable at this radical turn of affairs. Usually our first love making session after I was away included me coming inside Heather as I had by definition already been denied for a week or more, and she always used to believe that I needed relief after such a period. Her keenness to make love was also a surprise, as love making has nearly always been at predictable times, such as bedtime, first thing on a weekend morning or perhaps after a boozy lunch at the weekend. Not for years just as she had come in from work or in such a short time.

I didn't have much time to think about it, as it took her less than five minutes to get to a crashing orgasm as my fingers fondled and her vibrator did the hard work.

There was no offer of "finishing you off" for me, and she expressed her thanks as she hurriedly pulled her clothes back on and headed out to her club, leaving me feeling as exhausted as if I had been in the middle of a whirlwind (which is what it felt like!)

After she went out I was tempted to finish myself off, especially as for years Heather has been a once (at the most) a day girl and so satisfaction later on was most certainly not assured. However, I mused that since I was a bit into "tease and denial", actually I had just been given what I fantasised about, so resolved to see how the rest of the night panned out.

Heather usually arrives home just after 9pm from her club, so I waited up for her despite being tired. By 9.30pm she hadn't shown up, and so I though that she must have gone with the crowd for a drink, which is not unusual. She usually calls me up and tells me, and I usually go and have a drink with them all and walk her home. Anyway, I wasn't worried, and sure enough she arrived home at around 10.30pm, saying that she hadn't called me because I might have gone to sleep, and explaining that her flushed appearance was from her walking briskly back from the pub to see me.

This time, we exchanged all our news about the week, our kids (who have both left home) and I gave her the present of a set of hand made earrings which I had bought for her. She gave me a really big hug for those!

I pleaded that I was tired from jetlag, and so we headed for bed.

As we settled down, I thought to sleep, we snuggled together and as we clung to each other she said to my amazement "Let's make love again, I want to say thank you for the earrings".

Once again though, she said she would prefer me not to come in as "these are clean sheets, and anyway you get more excited by not coming in so I'm giving you a special thank you aren't I?"

As I fondled Heather and slid a finger up her, she was very wet, which made my denial even more sweet and frustrating. Her extra wetness intrigued me, and I thought that her new assertiveness and positive role in "tease and denial" must be turning her on.

Afterwards, we snuggled again and then went to sleep. As I drifted off, feeling frustrated but happy, I puzzled a bit over the evening. Surprise number one: Heather had jumped on me as soon as we met up, whereas usually we talk and may be make love at bedtime. Surprise number two: she had not wanted me in, whereas she usually does first time after we have been apart. Surprise number three: she wanted to make love again a few hours later, whereas she hasn't wanted to make love twice in a day for years. Surprise number four: she didn't want me in again, knowing we had had a long time apart. Well, maybe all my blandishments about tease and denial were really working. Surprise number five: how wet and ready she was.

The next day was Saturday, so the alarm was not set and we both slept in. When we woke up there was a distinct smell of dried semen, and I was worried that I must have cum in the night, but didn't remember doing so, nor did the bed around me seem matted. I just hoped Heather wouldn't notice because she would be annoyed about the clean sheets being messed up. When she awoke, true to weekend form Heather was frisky before we got up, but once again suggested that I just make her come and go without, which I was quite happy to do.

Thinking I was on a roll here, I was very attentive to Heather's sexual needs all weekend, but she wasn't interested again on the Saturday, or the Sunday.

Monday I was at work and, knowing that Heather would be out at an evening class until about 9pm, I told Heather that I would work late. I duly arrived home about 10pm. Heather arrived soon afterwards, again quite flushed from walking quickly up the road, and she was hot to make love again, although still discouraging of me coming in. I was delighted to find her quite wet again.

The pattern continued, with Heather not being interested in Sex on the nights when she and I were both in early, but was always keen and very wet and ready every evening that either she was out herself or else when I arrived home late. I began to find excuses for being home later, because I knew those would be sex nights.

However, she never encouraged me to come in her, and being (in my mind) her sex slave, I did not push it. I was very happy that she seemed to be getting so turned on so regularly. Our once or twice a week has suddenly risen to seven or eight times, granted it was Heather alone that was cumming.

Two weeks after I got home, on the Saturday, she said that she needed to go out shopping and left about 10am in the morning, saying that she would not be home until late afternoon. She actually got home about 4pm, and almost immediately encouraged me into bed, and, at last, to enter her. I had never known her so wet as I sunk Percy into her. Her wetness made her feel cavernous, and I could hardly feel her, but the slick warmth and my build up of four weeks quickly made me pump my seed inside her. She was not best amused, as I couldn't last until she had her orgasm, and as her muscles started to squeeze as she used her vibrator, she inadvertently and spontaneously pushed my now limp Percy out, together with a load of semen.

Although I felt that I had come a lot, the amount she squeezed out as she had her own orgasm, and which ran down her thighs onto the sheet seemed far more than I thought I had pumped into her. I must be more macho than I thought.

The next two weeks were much the same, with me being denied the whole time, but Heather being definitely randy and very wet whenever I arrived home late or she had been out herself earlier in the evening.

On the Sunday afternoon, the phone rang and she rushed to it before I had a chance to answer. It was a friend of hers who had, apparently, just broken up with her boyfriend and so Heather had to go and comfort her. I may be away all night Heather told me as she left, see you tomorrow (Monday) when you get back from work.

On the Monday evening, I arrived home to find that Heather had been crying. She wouldn't tell me why, saying that her hormones were just affecting her. But she was not interested in sex, and remained uninterested for the next two weeks, and didn't seem to go out to her clubs nearly as much, and certainly was back pretty promptly from those that she did go to.

Then two Fridays later in the evening there was another phone call, and Heather said that this friend of hers, with the boyfriend trouble, desperately needed her comfort again and she rushed upstairs and had a shower and headed out dressed in some of her sexiest gear, including a very sexy black bra and pantie set that I had bought her as a present. I felt that it was extremely thoughtful of her as I guessed that she must be planning on taking her friend out to some club or other to help her get over the boyfriend trouble.

Heather arrived home late the following afternoon, and looked very hot and flustered. She had obviously had a very difficult time helping out her friend, and was keen to have a relaxing bath. I ran a nice bubble bath for her, and helped her get undressed and into the bath.

I couldn't help but notice that she had lost her knickers. Clearly she had got up so quickly that morning that she forgot them. That would also account for the matted pubic hair, as without her knickers there was nothing to soak up the sweat as she drove home in the heat. Our car has leather seats and it can get quite sweaty. She also had bruises around her nipples, and when I showed concern, she told me that some idiot had made her brake hard and that she had bashed against the steering wheel. I really must get the seat belts checked, that shouldn't have happened.

When we went to bed that night, she was obviously feeling pretty frisky, and since I hadn't been inside her for four weeks I begged her to let me enter her, saying that she must fancy a cock inside her after all this time. She seemed amused by the idea, although I couldn't quite work out why and once she got going she opened her legs wide and invited me to climb on.

As I pounded away inside her, she hardly seemed to notice, but when I started to come she got pretty angry, telling me that she could hardly feel me and that all I had succeeded in doing was making her mucky without giving her any pleasure. Almost before I had subsided, she pushed me out and rolled me on my back and climbed on top of me.

"I think there will have to be some changes", she said. "I can hardly feel you inside me nowadays, and I find you so much better as my 'Sex Slave' fondling the bits I tell you to, while I use my vibrator".

"I would like that to be your permanent role", she went on, "that and giving me a good licking whenever I feel like it. You can start by licking me to the orgasm I missed, and by the way cleaning all your cum out of me".

And so I did, and the taste was wonderful. So, for the next six weeks up to now that has been my role. She nearly always now asks me to lick her to an orgasm when she gets in late and is feeling sexy.

I did offer to buy her a nice big dildo, since she complained about not being able to feel me, but she answered that "she only enjoyed the real thing". I apologised to her that I was not bigger, and that she was having to go without. I couldn't quite work out why she thought this was so funny, she was almost hysterical, but I was glad my offer had pleased her so much.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Can you see any reason why I should stop?

We have been married for 27 years, and we have been very happy for all those years. Our marriage is very close, and my wife, Heather, is my best friend, lover and mistress as well as my spouse. Just recently though, the mistress side has taken an extra turn which has made it tantalising and exciting and brought a different interpretation to the word "mistress" than the one it had before.

It started about two years ago, when I recognised that some of the really high erotic feelings that I had experienced at odd times over our marriage had been stimulated by my wife being dominant with me. These few occasions, about once every year or so, had been when she had encouraged me to make love to her to her satisfaction, and then she had pushed me away and contentedly turned herself over to sleep leaving me high, dry, frustrated and feeling highly sexually charged. I had loved the feeling, which had left me on a real sexual high until she eventually let me make love to her again the next day (or even more sexually excitingly) the day after. Usually this "denial" happened when she was rather drunk, when her instincts rather than her upbringing were in charge.

One weekend break in France, while we were making love on the first evening (Saturday) before going to dinner, our love making was interrupted in the hotel just after she achieved her orgasm, but before I had had mine, and we decided to wait until later to "finish me off". We ended up back from dinner very late, so "finishing me off" was put on hold until the morning, and then we woke up so late that there wasn't time before the restaurant closed for breakfast, so it was put on hold again until the evening. That evening, Heather got quite drunk over dinner, and when we did end up in bed she did her trick of pushing me out after her own orgasm and falling straight asleep again. That was two nights without relief; but the worse part was that the following morning, Monday, she had to fly back to England early to go to work while I stayed on working in our Paris office for the week. By the end of the week I was desperate for relief, but some kind of trigger had flipped inside of me that week that made me want not to masturbate for relief, but wait to make love to Heather when we got back together. The Friday night was explosive, and afterwards as I lay wide awake not quite understanding why the whole sexual experience should be reminiscent of my 17 year old excitement. I realised that my wife's denial and unintentional tease had been the power behind the experience.

Over the next year, I slowly experimented with this radical discovery. I talked to my wife about it, but she didn't really understand, and her upbringing led her to internal denial that she could be, as she put it, "a prick teaser". I was guilty of pushing her too hard and she later told me that my intensity had frightened her, and it was just as well that I instinctively backed off. I did not want to hurt our relationship, but I was sure that I had seen signs of her enjoying some aspects of being dominant, especially when her barriers were down, such as when she was a little drunk, and I had certainly got a real thrill out of it when she had been,

I slowly realised that as I persuaded her that I actually really wanted to be left a bit frustrated and that I should focus on her pleasure and not enter her, her own orgasms were much quicker to reach and far stronger and long lasting than when I was pounding away inside her. She would however, after two or three such love making sessions believe that I "must be feeling very frustrated" and would insist that I finish off inside her. I could, I suppose, have finished myself off with a hand job, but I found that forcing myself to wait until Heather was wanting to accommodate me gave me a real tease and denial thrill. One thing I did notice was that we ended up making love much more often now that sex was almost solely about her pleasure, and our average love making rose to four or five times a week from the one or two that it had been in the past few years.

Now, two years later, we had reached a point where she accepted that I get a thrill out of being denied by her, as long as it is accompanied by the tease of her making me either make love to her without cumming myself, or else watching her use her favourite vibrator on herself. The kind of joke-y understanding is that I am "her sex slave", and will pleasure her in whatever way she requires, but in fact most of the time what she wants is for me to caress and stimulate her in her favourite erotic places while she uses her vibrator. She has the right to require the use of my cock inside her if she wants, and until recently she would decide that she required that service most weeks at some time or another. The longest I went without was three weeks, and the most orgasms she had between my having any at was 10. However, I still often felt that she mostly preferred not having to accommodate me, and the "use of my cock" was more out of concern for me, than a genuine desire on her part to have me inside her. That was the balance we had reached until six weeks ago, which, as you will hear shortly, has now changed.

I think that gives you most of the background, except to say that I do a fair amount of travelling, and about a year ago I introduced my wife to the idea that as "her sex slave" should be made to be chaste when I was away from her. I suggested the use of a CB3000 but she was very unconvinced, and said that if I wanted to remain chaste then that was my affair, but that she was not interested in the CB3000 whatsoever. However, I bought a CB3000, and as much for my own perverse benefit as anything I would wear it when I was away from home. That led to some interesting experiences in itself, but I remained chaste [see my other story "I know there's no point in trying"].

I told my wife that I was using the CB3000 (although not about the experiences), and she accepted it as "one of my daft foibles", and accepted that I would use it if I wanted to, but as far as she was concerned there was no need to and in any case she "didn't want to see me in it!"

Now, I think my wife is one of the most attractive and sexy women for her age that I know. As I said, we have been married for 27 years, and we weren't that young when we married, so I will leave you to do the arithmetic. She still has almost the same figure that she had when we married, and can in fact still get into her wedding dress. She is a little rounder on the hips, which actually makes her, if anything, slightly more feminine than she was. She also has recently cut her hair short, which really suits her, and makes her so striking that I sometimes fantasise about her in high heels, tights and bra and pants in a dominant posture.

However, one thing bugs me, and that is that she would never believe me when I told her how sexy she was, and she would always laugh it off by saying that "I was biased" - which may be true but that doesn't mean she isn't sexy.

I work pretty hard, and am often away on trips, and even more often back home late in the evening, and since our kids left home, my wife has taken up a number of clubs, societies and charity work to fill her evenings. More than once when I have gone along to a social evening where partners are invited, I have noticed the way that some of the men in her groups look at her, some of them considerably younger than she is. I was not surprised, as I felt that my attention to her sexual needs and the far more frequent love making was making her ouse sexuality. I told her that some of the men fancied her, but she would not believe it, and so I started to try and persuade her to flirt and even date one or other of them just to prove to her that she is attractive and sexy and that it is not just me that thinks so.

She got annoyed with me encouraging her, saying that she believed in faithfulness in marriage and would, as she put it, "cut my balls off if ever she found that I had made love to another woman". However, I did notice that at times she would be randier than normal as we started to make love after I had been talking about other men fancying her or suggesting she might just enjoy trying another man out, especially as she was a virgin when we married.

One of her favourite limericks is the one:

A crusader's wife from the garrison,

Had an affair with a Saracen

She was not oversexed

Or frustrated, or vexed

She just wanted to make a comparison.

Which I always felt was her favourite because it caught her imagination.

Anyway, on to the present.

Six weeks ago, I was away on a 10 day trip to the USA, starting on the east coast and then flying on the Friday night to San Francisco, where I planned on having a weekend in the city before spending the following week in Silicon Valley. I have a lot of flexibility about when I go on these trips, and had deliberately chosen to be away on a weekend when I knew my wife was involved in one of her group things.

As usual, I had put my CB3000 on before leaving home and had put one of the plastic numbered tags on to secure it, which mean that I can wear it through the security scanner at the airport without the padlock setting off the alarms. We had made love on the Saturday, Sunday and Monday morning before I left for the airport, and she had uncharacteristically left me high and dry on all three occasions. She usually wants me to give me a proper seeing to before I go away for a few days, out of concern about me being frustrated. So this time I was already quite horny before I started, and the constant rubbing of the CB3000 and the 4am erections were taking their self inflicted toll.

This weekend, I knew my wife was going to be away with the choir that she sings with for the whole weekend recording a CD. That meant leaving on the Friday morning, rehearsing on Friday afternoon and all day Saturday and then recording the CD on the Sunday. No point in me going with her as I wouldn't see anything of her, and actually a sensible time for me to do one of my bi-annual trips to the USA as she would not have time to miss me either.

As usual, I phoned her regularly, and so I was surprised when mid afternoon on the Saturday, late evening for her, I got an unexpected mobile phone call from her.

"Where are you", she asked.

"Just wandering around Fisherman's Wharf", I replied.

"Are you near your hotel", she asked, and then on hearing my affirmative answer said, "Then please go to your room and call me back".

I hurried to the hotel, concerned that there was some serious problem that she needed me to be in private in my room to hear, and then I called her back.

"Have you got your thing on?" she asked.

Guessing what she meant, I replied, hesitantly, that I had. She said "How do I know that you have?"

After thinking for a moment, I told her about the security tag and the number on it. "Right", she said, "drop your pants and take a photo of it on you and e-mail it to me at home and make sure I can read the security tag number on the photo".

At this point I was bewildered, as she had shown only negative interest in the CB3000 up to now, and I was at a complete loss as to what was going on.

"Why? What is the matter? What is going on?" I started to ask.

"Just do it right now!" she snapped, "and call me back when you've done it".

Her sharpness took me by complete surprise, and so I did just as she asked. It took me about a quarter of an hour to take a photo of my now throbbing cock in his cage, fire up my laptop and e-mail the photo to her, wondering all the time what was going on - after all it was around 11pm in England. Then I called her back.

"You took your time", she said, "now give me the number over the phone as well".

"What on earth is going on", I asked, after dropping my pants yet again and reading her the number.

"Well, you have been pestering me for months to take a lover, and this evening one of the men in the choir made a pass at me, and I felt flattered and quite enjoyed it. And then I thought that as I hadn't had a cock in me for two weeks and I fancy one, and since you aren't here and he is, and since you keep saying you want me to try another cock, well 'why not' and so I am going to spend the night with him in his hotel room. He is currently waiting for me down in the bar, and we have both had a good few drinks! But, as I said to you, I don't want you going with another woman and I will cut your balls off if you do, so I am making damned sure you are locked up - and that tag had better still be on you when you get home and the number you have given me and the number on the photo that I had better find in my inbox when I get home had better match that number."

"Now do you have a problem with that?"

Although my mind was rebelling, the throbbing cock trying to break out of the CB3000 was giving me such a different message that all I could croak out was "No, darling, enjoy yourself" and just made out her "Thank you, I think I will", as she disconnected.

Never, in my wildest dreams or nightmares even, had I imagined that Heather actually would do what I had been encouraging her to do. I realised as I lay on the bed with a throbbing cock in a fair amount of pain in my CB3000, that I had in fact been teasing her, and now I was reaping the result. I couldn't do anything to stop it, I was 6000 miles away. In any case, I could hardly call "foul" as she was only doing what I had urged her to do for nigh on the last two years.

I must have at that point disappeared into what I have heard referred to as subspace, where I lay on my bed in the hotel fantasising about what might be going on, with my cock ousing pre-cum continuously.

Four hours passed, and I hardly noticed them, and then I was startled by my mobile phone ringing. The screen said Heather, and I grabbed it and answered in a croak, "Hello".

"Are you OK", said Heather.

"Yes, No, I don't know. Are you still a virgin? Did you? Didn't you? Are you OK. Did you use protection? Are you sore? Oh shit! Do you still love me?" I babbled down the phone.

"No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. And more than ever. I think that's right!" laughed Heather.

As we talked, I felt so erotically charged, and so, so much in love with my lovely wife. She told me in outline about what had happened, and promised that she would give me the "gory details when we are snuggled up together, when you get back, if that is what you want". What she would not tell me is who it was that she had bedded!

It was now, she pointed out, after 4am in the morning, and she had just got back to her room and she intended now to go to bed, as they had a full day's singing to do on the Sunday. So, I would have to wait until the following weekend when I was back home to hear the full story.

"Will you be making love to him again", I asked.

She replied that this was only possible because they were away from home, and that since they were all going back home the following evening, and she had no intention of making it something "clandestine and tacky" back home, that the answer was almost definitely "No!".

I experienced a mixture of relief and disappointment at that!

The rest of my week away was normal and successful, as far as my notes from work tell me, but I can not remember anything except having an almost permanent semi-erection in my CB3000, and leaking pre-cum continuously in anticipation of seeing Heather the following Saturday afternoon when she was to meet me off my flight from San Francisco.

All through the week, whenever I called Heather, I asked her for more details but she would only cover our usual subjects and refused to be drawn. I began to think that her "affair" was a fabrication and towards the end of the week I told her so. Her initial response was to chuckle meaningfully, but by the Thursday night, when I spoke to her just before she went to choir practise, she was getting annoyed with me for doubting her and said that when I saw her on Saturday she "had a good mind to prove it to me".

Horror upon horrors, I was selected for a full search at the airport on departure, and ended up in a real cold sweat as they patted me down. Fortunately, they did not pat me where they could have felt the CB3000, but I was shaking badly as I boarded the 747 and was very grateful to be on the quiet upper deck, where I could snuggle under a blanket and toss and turn on the British Airways flat bed as the whole week crowded into the 3½" of space in the CB3000!

Heather met me coming out of Customs at Terminal 1 at Heathrow, and I was somehow surprised that she looked almost exactly the same as before. Somehow in my mind I was expecting her to have changed.

Heather drove us home, and there was a certain extra confidence in her demeanour as she drove and talked to me.

When we got home, I unpacked my bags and then went for a shower to freshen up, and was surprised to find Heather naked in bed as I returned into the bedroom. I hastily covered up the CB3000, as she had always said she didn't want to see it and I hadn't taken it off yet. I had been about to as I got in the shower, but then remembered that Heather had wanted to check the security tag.

"Come here", she demanded, "and let me see this thing".

Nervously I stood next to her and lowered the towel.

"It's not as awful as I expected", she said and reached over and tugged at it, making me wince.

"Let's see the tag", she said, and checked the number against a piece of paper that she had written the number on.

"Good boy", she said. "For that, you can have a special treat. Get into bed with me."

Thinking that I was about to get the treat of making love to her, I started to work at breaking the seal.

"No", she said, "I didn't tell you to take it off yet, I just said get into bed".

I duly complied, whereupon she requested that I start my usual routine of caressing her ultra sensitive nipples while she got her favourite vibrator out.

I started to protest, but she then replied that I should "feel her".

I did, and found her to be very wet indeed, and rather more grainy wetness than normal.

"Does that feel any different", she asked?

When I said that it was, she told me "That's because I am full of cum, and far too sore for you to come in at the moment, and if you don't like it, then it is all your own fault."

"You virtually called me a liar about last weekend, and so I arranged for my friend (her words) to give me another seeing to this morning on the way to the airport, just so that you could see, smell and feel and believe. I hadn't intended to let the affair continue, but you really pissed me off about it".

And so saying, she started to orgasm, with her vagina muscles squeezing my probing fingers as she did so.

"You can damned well stay in that device until you have apologised to my satisfaction", she finally gasped as her orgasm subsided.

Apologies and some silver earrings and a bra and pants set from Victoria's Secret in San Francisco resulted in pity being taken on me on the Sunday afternoon, and as we lay in bed in the afterglow she told me the rest of the story. She still refused to tell me who it is, although as you will see from later on in the story, I guess I'm bound to find out sooner or later. Actually, not knowing adds a bit of extra excitement to me, although I rather think that Heather is keeping it secret because it is all a bit personal with her and a separate part of her life rather than an intent to titillate me more!

She had gone back down to the bar, where her "friend" had been waiting. He had told her his room number and then announced that he was "off to bed". Heather had waited ten minutes and then also said she was going to bed, and had gone rather shakily to his room, where she had found that he had thoughtfully left the door ajar so she didn't have to knock and risk being seen obviously going into someone else's room by anyone else in the choir.

When she arrived, she found he had a bottle of Champagne on ice waiting for her and although she actually doesn't like Champagne, it had made the whole thing feel romantic and not cheap and nasty as she had feared.

It was the first new man she had made love to in twenty years (she had one other experience when our kids were small - see "The Whole Way - It's OK"), so she was very nervous and found herself shaking. He had realised, and took her very gently by the shoulders and started kissing her neck and stroking her back. He had been so gentle that she had started to relax, and when he started to caress her very sensitive nipples, she had turned her face up to him and they had started kissing.

Heather has always said that I kiss "too sloppily", and she rarely kisses me. She said that she had really enjoyed his kissing, and that she had quite forgotten how sexy kissing can be, which rather hurt me.

He undressed her slowly, and then stood back and whistled at her, saying that he had always found her sexy but was amazed at how slim, trim and sexy she really was in the flesh. While she watched him, he undressed himself, and as he stepped out of his undershorts, she realised that he had a really long and thin uncircumcised penis. Heather has always had a fantasy about uncircumcised penises, ever since her one and only extramarital experience, which was also with an uncircumcised lad. Remembering what had happened that previous time, she had once more dropped to her knees and started to lick his cock, and before long he had said he was in danger of cumming, so he pushed her back on the bed and started returning the complement. That also hurt me, as I love licking Heather's cunt, but she has not let me do it for years, saying that my beard irritates her thighs and distracts her from enjoying it. That fact enabled me to eliminate some of the men in the choir who have beards, and put a question mark over the couple with moustaches.

Their love making had been slow and gentle. His penis, she said, felt so different from mine. More like a long finger, so it didn't feel as uncomfortable as mine, and she was so hot that he had been able to make her cum on the movement of his cock in her without any other manual (or vibrator) stimulation of her clit which she nearly always needs with me. As she came, he had emptied his balls into her before she had even thought of protection. I was given the snip many years before (also part of the other story) so she hadn't given it much thought. She realised that since she hadn't had a period for some time she would hardly be likely to get pregnant, and she didn't feel he was the kind of person to sleep around. In fact, she said, that as they talked he had told her that she was the only person he had made love to since he had lost his own wife some years previously. As at least half the men in her choir are either widowers or have split with their wives, that piece of information, together with the beard, helps cut down the list even further. But frustratingly it still leaves four or five clean shaven singles!

They had lain together after making love for a while, and then drifted to sleep. She had been awakened only an hour later by him stroking one nipple with one hand and her clit with the other hand and sucking her other nipple, and was amazed to find herself hot for another go at love making. She has rarely wanted to make love more than once a day since we were first married, and certainly has not done so with me for years.

After they had both cum again, she had got up and gone back to her own room, from where she had called me.

"Was he a better lover than me", I foolishly asked. "Sexier (ouch!), but ours has a loving which was missing (phew!)", she replied.

"And what about yesterday (Saturday) morning", I asked.

"That was quite different", she answered.

She said that when she had asked him on Thursday night after choir practise if he would like a re-run on Saturday morning, that he had been surprised about it, as he thought they had agreed it was a one night stand. As they walked to the pub with the rest of the choir, she told him about her plan to meet me and present me with incontrovertible evidence of her infidelity. He replied that he would have rather it was because she wanted him, but that he wasn't going to turn down the offer. Heather reassured him that even though she wanted to get at me, there was no way she would be making the offer if she hadn't enjoyed making love with him, and so honour was restored.

When she had arrived at his house, he had curtly told her that since this was for business rather than pleasure that she should go straight to his bedroom and strip and lie on the bed. He would be up shortly to provide her with what she needed. She had been surprised at his behaviour, and a little hurt, but had found herself getting quite turned on by his roughness and had done as he had asked. She had lain on the bed, waiting for him, and when he seemed to take a long time to appear, she found herself continuing to get turned on, and started to stroke her clit with her eyes closed,. She had jumped when she heard him tell her to "go on, play with yourself, give me a good show" and realised that he was standing at the bottom of the bed watching her and he was still fully dressed. She found it off putting, but after a while she closed her eyes and ignored him and her clit started to respond again and she started to get quite aroused and wet. She had almost forgotten about him altogether when she then realised that he had undressed and with no warning had climbed on top of her and was thrusting in to her. The rawness of the situation had made her cum almost immediately, and she had just kept cumming for ages until he finally emptied himself into her.

Afterwards, he had been as pleasant as he had been the previous week and she realised that he had been deliberately provocative to give variety, and was a bit ashamed that she had responded as he had intended. She then reminded me of a time, when before we were married, that I had let myself into her flat one night and climbed into bed with her and had "almost raped her" as she put it, and how much she had also responded to me and fondly remembered that occasion.

"Perhaps, we should try to be a bit more adventurous", she observed.

Knowing that she was going to the airport to meet me, he had offered her a shower to "remove the evidence", but she had refused. He laughed as he realised that she was really serious in her intent on presenting me with the evidence and told her "You really are a sexy little vixen, aren't you" (confirming what I had been saying to her for years!). As they lay together he put her hand on his cock and encouraged her to stroke him back to hardness, saying, "Let's add a bit more to that load for him to find, shall we" and she had amazed herself by not only agreeing but also in fact cumming herself again as he deposited a second load.

"Are you going to see him again", I asked yet again, nervously.

I felt distinctly nervous as she took her time thinking, and realised that I had very different emotions pulling me to want her to say "Yes" and wanting her to say "No".

"Yes, I think so", she eventually said, "It seems as though not only am I capable of coming much more than I have for years, possibly even more than when we first got together, but also I am keeping two men fully satisfied too. I still love you and you still love me, and there is no threat to that. When I want the occasional penis in me, I can have his, which is much more comfortable and therefore exciting than yours. And when I just feel sexy but don't want a penis in me at all, which is after all the majority of the time, then you as my 'Sex Slave' can have that job".

"So can you see any reason why I should stop?"

My throbbing cock insisted that I couldn't see any good reason why not either.

That was six weeks ago, and true to her word, my role as her "Sex Slave" has intensified. Since the day after I came back from San Francisco I have only been allowed to come in her once and her expression of discomfort was tangible. She has taken to checking that I have my CB3000 installed before I go away on trips, and she usually tells me on at least one night each time I am away that she "will be meeting her friend for a drink - is that OK?", which is her polite way of saying that she wants a cock inside her. I still don't know who her "friend" is, but bet they will give themselves away the next time there is a choir social event that I go to with Heather.

I suppose after all my cajoling her to prove her sexuality, I have no one else to blame but myself, but I have never felt more sexually charged than am at present, aroused nearly 24 hours every d now. My trips abroad, instead of being a bit of a sexual wilderness have become sexually very erotic.