I have been unreasonably horny this past weekend. Horny to the point of waking up every 2 hours, squeezing my balls and handling my cock, and drifting back to light sleep. It left me quite distracted, and desperate for attention from Bear.
Saturday after serving breakfast to Bear, I was hoping for caresses and attention, and none were forthcoming. The dog hopped up on the bed and draped himself across Bear. And I goosed the dog, causing him to jump off the bed again.
“What’d you do that for?” Bear demanded to know. I really had no good answer.
The attention I was hoping for was not happening, and I wasn’t asking. So I got the dog back up on the bed, shoved him over on top of Bear, got up in a bit of a funk declaring “I am taking a shower,” took off the cock ring and placed it on Bear’s night stand, and marched off to the bathroom.
The sad truth is: I was jealous of the dog, and I was not handling it well. I may not be as emotionally mature as I thought I was.
Bear caught my mood, and went after me. We talked. He pointed out that I cannot expect attention. “I guess” I said, with an unspoken “but” in there. I explained that I had been so very horny, and didn’t know what to do with myself. He told me that he had been feeling crummy that morning, and just wanted to snuggle the dog for a bit. He told me that he appreciated me being horny, that he liked it, even when he was not in the mood for doing anything about it. I felt loved. And like a selfish ass.
Then he asked the obvious question: “Why didn’t you ask for attention?”
I am afraid to annoy Bear. And I have, in the past. When I ask for something, and get an annoyed reaction, it really screws with my emotional state. I feel rejected in those moments, so I avoid that by not asking. And I didn’t quite know what caused Bear to be annoyed.
Bear told me it was semantics. If I ask “can you,” he’s okay by it. If I ask “could you” or “would you,” he feels more expectation and pressure, and that annoys him. I don’t get the distinction: To me, those are all equivalent ways of saying the same thing. I’d actually view “could you” as a more tentative way of asking.
And I can change the way I ask for things, now that I know this semantic fine point. And so far, for all of two days, it’s been working fine. Over time, I should lose the fear of annoying Bear when I ask for stuff, and that will improve my communication to him tremendously. Hopefully, that’s how that will go.
The next day, on Sunday morning, Bear came down to the kitchen before I could serve him breakfast in bed, so I served it to him in the dining room. Egg and diced tomato, spicy, on tostada. For a recipe off the back of a bottle of steak sauce, it was quite tasty.
A bit later, we went back up the bedroom. I caressed him through his boxers until he told me to take them off, then I stroked him directly, immensely enjoying the chance to give him pleasure. Bear had me get the warming lube, and then he fucked me, and I whimpered and moaned and left a wet spot of precum on the sheets. After, I asked to be masturbated, and he declined. Then we slept for a few hours.
Around noon, I woke up, and started idly stroking the top of my shaft. Bear woke up too, we said Hi, we kissed. After a bit, he got some lube and took my cock in his hand and gave me full strokes.
Bliss. Pure, thoughtless pleasure, and a feeling of deep gratitude. I moaned, I wriggled, I humped his fist. And I got close pretty quickly, and let him know by squeezing his wrist and saying “Close.”
He continued stroking me. That was unexpected. It had been 16 days, and lately, he hasn’t allowed me to come that early. I clenched all my muscles, trying not to come. After about another five strokes, feeling the pressure build up in my balls and in my perineum, I said “I won’t be able to hold it much longer”.
“It’s okay,” Bear said. “You can let go.”
And I came. Panting and then with little groans of “ow.” I came so hard my balls ached and my perineum felt sore.
It was nice to be able to go about my day without constantly thinking of my dick, after that. For about 4 hours, when I started getting horny again. I thought about orgasm, and how often I come. Two years ago, I came every 2 to 3 days, by my own hand. Now, I come maybe every 20 days or so, if the past eight weeks are any indication. Over a year, I figured, I’d have something like 17 to 18 orgasms. But far from feeling frustrated, I felt that Bear was being quite indulgent letting me come that often. I told him so, and he got a laugh out of it.
The next day, Monday, I felt as horny as I usually do about a week into our play. Maybe that’ll be the “new normal” now: I may become horny to the point of distraction, and be “reset” by orgasm to just feeling very horny, without a days-long period of feeling sated after orgasm.
I love that thought. Mainly because Bear keeps telling me that what he loves about orgasm control is how horny it makes me. So if I can come and be very horny again the next day, that’s just great. I expect that the way I react to orgasm and orgasm control will vary from week to week or month to month. I am thinking of the recent times when I “lost my mojo.” And I am thinking that when I lose my mojo, it’s not because I came: It’s because something’s amiss between Bear and me, like the argument we had over male privilege and how it shapes judgment and viewpoint.
On Monday, when serving Bear his breakfast, he said: “You are getting quite good at this.” I looked at him. “You have my coffee just right, my oatmeal just right, and the muffins the way I like them. You’re getting good.” he said. And I got rock-hard, hearing that praise. Breakfast as kinky play. Who knew.
I have started to browse Tumblr, and put my own collection of Smut together, which is now linked at the top of this blog. Some of it is arty, and some of it decidedly not so. It’s a collection of pictures I like. I could re-blog Thumper’s Tumblr in entirety, but that’s pointless, so I’ll just link it. He has a great eye for beautiful porn.
Ah, a side note on prostate milking: We did try that around the 10-day mark. I felt rather daft, lying there with a vibrator up my butt and my dick limp. Some fluid came out, but not a whole lot, and Bear eventually told me to shut the vibrator off. We may try again. That technique may need practice.
What I’ve been reading
I, for one, welcome our robotic communist jobless future at the Register. I think the author misses a point: Housing and cost of land, and cost of fuel and thus travel. I don’t think that everything will be so cheap that we’ll just need a token job to afford it. I do think that a jobless future may well be ahead for us, and I think that the transition to this “post scarcity” model is going to be quite rough. I think some form of re-distributing wealth is going to have to be used. Maybe through socialist means of heavy taxation and government-sponsored jobs. And maybe through market forces: I’ve seen a suggestion to let go of all pretensions to online privacy, and put in a system of micro-payments for access to consumer behavior data. Micro payments to that consumer. We’d be paid to be consumers, which would allow us to consume more. Somewhere that model sounds like it could never sustain itself, but maybe with some tweaks, it can work.
We need to have that conversation, maybe even as a side note on a sex blog. We have time – decades upon decades – to figure it out. And I really think we’ll “run out of stuff to do,” at least stuff to do that produces things that then are sold and so allows people to get paid.
Policy changes to deal with that won’t happen until long after they needed to happen. But maybe, if we keep talking about it and observing the shape of things, it won’t come as a complete surprise if we do get to 50 or 75 percent unemployment.