Spoiler: I did get to come the weekend of the last entry. Though that was more the cherry on the treat. And then pretty much the next day, I came down with the cold that Bear had had, and that’s been my week since – work, taking way too many unauthorized “I’ll get to that email in a bit” mid-day snoozes, trying to wriggle out of as many on-site meetings as I can (“I’ll conference in via video”) and watching the clock to see whether I can take another dose of Nyquil. It’s all kink, all the time, here at Bear & Schnoff’s.
Sometime mid-afternoon last Saturday, I’m noodling around in the kitchen doing I-forget-what, Bear comes up to me and says “want to go upstairs?” Do I ever!
Before long, I’m naked, stroking Bear’s cock while he teases mine. I’m quite happy, in a squirmy way. Bear asks me whether I am clean, and I tell him I am reasonably so. “Good,” he says. Hah, excellent, that means anal sex. I had wanted to be fucked by him. Shortly, he tells me to grab the lube and apply it to his cock. I expect this to lead to humping pretty much directly – and it doesn’t.
He gets up from the bed, rummages around in the toy chest, and comes out with leather cuffs and a strip of cloth as a blindfold. On they all go, and then he tells me to resume stroking his cock with more lube. That takes some patting the bed to find the lube, and running a hand up his thigh to find his cock. I stroke him diligently, enjoying the sensation of his cock running through my palm. After a bit of that, he tells me to apply lube to my ass. I do so eagerly. Not having sight shifts everything. Simple actions become more intense, as the rest of the senses compensate. I find his cock and resume stroking.
His hand grabs mine and he removes it from his cock, then grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around with some force, demanding. This is new – we don’t typically do any “rough play.” I can feel his cock press against my anus. He enters me, and I know that even in rough play, he is still considerate, as he gives me a bit of time to accommodate him before he starts pounding my ass. I moan and groan and make noises, loving every minute of having Bear inside me, enjoying the slight burning sensation the warming lube creates. My cock presses into the mattress. My balls tingle, and shivers run along my spine. This is great. After a while, Bear’s thrusts get more urgent, and he starts to groan. I angle my butt up to meet his strokes, and moan in turn. And then he comes, pressing me down as his orgasm washes over him.
He doesn’t stay on top of me long. His hand grabs mine, and he pulls me off the bed. I step carefully, led to the door by him. I expect he’ll secure me to the door facing the room. He grabs my shoulder and spins me around so I face the door. That’s new, too. “Spread your legs,” he says, and I do. He takes my arms and clips them to the bands around the door, above my head. Some part of me notices it’s clips not rope this time, but most of me is occupied with enjoying the moment.
I wonder what’s next. I can hear Bear rummaging around in the toy chest, behind me. I can hear him put on some sort of glove, and then he reaches around and touches my ribcage with it. I shudder and sigh. Soft. One of the rabbit-fur mittens I made – what, 10+ years ago? I forgot we even had those. Bear runs the mitten over my body, briefly touches my cock. Then it’s gone.
Bear walks away for a moment and comes back. “Lift your feet,” he says, as he spreads a towel under me. “I don’t want you dripping on my carpet.” Which has me wondering – dripping as in precum, or dripping as in ejaculate? Will I be allowed an orgasm?
A short while later, I feel a sharp slap on the ass and hear the impact of leather on skin. I flinch. That stung, but didn’t hurt. I angle my ass out a bit. It sounds nastier than it is. I know what it is – a scrap piece of leather Bear had me find a couple months ago. I had wondered when he’d want to use it. I can hear the dog pacing behind me, nervously. That’s followed by something cold touching my back. I flinch again. Not sure what that is – feels like smooth metal.
Bear keeps alternating these sensations for what I can only describe as “a while.” Probably not that long, but my sense of time is distorted. I am hard and enjoying the attention immensely. The dog is getting increasingly agitated whenever Bear uses the scrap of leather on me, and he abandons it after the fourth strike or so. Which is a shame, because I was really enjoying that.
Bear steps away again for a moment, comes back, and I can feel something pressing against my anus. That feels like the glass plug he gifted me. It slips in easily, and feels great. He uncuffs my right hand and tells me to start stroking myself. “Tell me when you are close,” he says. I don’t need to be told twice. I start feeling warm as I get closer to orgasm. Even horny as I am, it takes me a good while to get close. I am estimating 10 minutes, but with my wonky sense of time right now, I really have no way of telling. I don’t know what his intent is – to let me edge and then leave me there, or to have me come. To be on the safe side, I stop when I know I safely can without “sliding” into orgasm. “I am close,” I say, and feel Bear’s hand wrap around my cock almost immediately, stroking me insistently. Which feels great, but I’m not getting closer to orgasm. “I think you’ve lost me,” I say. “I don’t think I’m coming this way. Sorry.”
He removes his hand. “Bring yourself close again,” he says. I resume stroking, long, slow strokes along the shaft and over the head. I am actually maybe three quarters erect, but that doesn’t change how intensely good it feels to stroke myself. I imagine an outside view of myself, I imagine being watched by Bear and others while I masturbate, and my body is heating up. I can feel a flush all over my skin, though I don’t sweat. This time, when I am close, I go for an extra few strokes to get myself right to the edge. “I am close again,” I gasp, and for a moment I worry. If Bear changes his mind now, I won’t be able to back off the edge. And then I feel his hand around my cock, and I come immediately, shuddering.
Bear uncuffs my other hand and removes the blind fold. “Thank you,” I say and hug him. I clean up the semen on the door, and clean and put away the toys he used. I am humming with a happy after-glow. From the orgasm, sure, but more so from the sensation play we just had. This is all new. This must be the first time Bear has struck my ass in – I have no clue, 8 years? And I can’t remember when he last used anything but his hand to do it. I am grateful to him to have received that much loving attention.
We talk a bit. I tell him I really enjoyed the sensation of being spanked with the leather, and had hoped there may have been more of that while I was masturbating. “Really?” he says, surprise in his voice. “Yeah,” I say. “I enjoyed that.”
Bear has expressed interest in spanking me, but before now, he hadn’t acted on it. And I have no experience with impact play or pain. I don’t know that I like pain. I think I don’t. And yet, I enjoyed this and wanted more. It wasn’t painful, granted. So I still don’t know that I would enjoy pain. There’s only one way to find out, and I have a feeling I will, eventually, find out. No rush on that.
I ask Bear how he stays engaged when he plays with me like this after he already came. “I need to switch gears, kind of,” he says. He explains that he shifts focus from his own physical pleasure to taking pleasure in my reactions, and that this is a conscious effort, hence the gears metaphor. “And then it’s really a lot of fun,” he says. I am very happy to hear that. I love the attention, but I wouldn’t enjoy it if I didn’t get the sense that Bear enjoyed himself, too.
Bear comments that I like my hand better than his, when I masturbate. I can’t really deny that, so I don’t say anything. “I understand,” he says. He wants me to be more excited when he touches me than when I touch myself, though, and he’s thinking of making sure that he is the one who brings me to orgasm, as a way to change the way I react. He mentions that if I hadn’t come on the second attempt, he would have left me there until next weekend – “that would have meant you were clearly not excited enough yet.” I tell him I had figured that, and that’s why I brought myself so very close on the second try.
Being “trained” to come only through him sounds totally hot. I am also a bit nervous about it. It takes me a while to come, usually, and this could mean a lot fewer orgasms during the training time. Still, I wholeheartedly agree: Associating release squarely with him is the right way to go, and an almost natural step from giving him control over when I come.
We discuss the dog. Bear tells me that he was alternating between pacing and cowering when Bear struck me. He’s a rescue, and we’ve seen him flinch when Bear so much as doubles up a belt while getting dressed. For future impact play, I think the dog will need to stay outside our bedroom.
It’s been long enough since then that I feel the need to put sub-headers in here. I’d been feeling crummy all week, and really wasn’t horny at all. This last Saturday, I finally felt better. Bear wanted a full body massage with a “happy ending”, his words, and I was only to glad to oblige. He teased me for a good long while after, and that jump-started me from “meh” to “boy I’m horny” in no time.
So much so that Sunday morning, I am crawling up the walls. I take the liberty to wear my puppy tail and a sort of leather sheath for my cock and balls, and make and serve Bear’s breakfast that way. Bear teases me a bit, then he decides to get some more snoozing in, snuggling me. That’s very nice indeed – and I find the tail plug to be too intense after a while, and I wriggle around under the covers trying to get the rope harness that holds it in place loose. Bear rouses. “What are you doing,” he asks, annoyed. “Trying to get this tail out,” I say. “It’s getting too intense. Sorry for all the wriggling.” Bear “hrmph”s and rolls off me on his side. I get out of the bed and divest myself of toys, feeling a bit sheepish. I clean the toys and put them and the rope away, and then join Bear for some more snoozing.
When we wake up, I am still craving orgasm. “Bear, dearest,” I say. He turns to me. “May I come, please?” He doesn’t even need to think.
“No,” he says.
I groan. “Whimper,” I say.
“I want you a bit hornier than this,” Bear says.
I take that opportunity to explain that I don’t really get hornier and hornier as time goes by. It’s more cyclical. I may be the way I am now after 4 days, or a week, and I may be calm two weeks in, and then again desperately horny a few days after that. There’s really no telling. “So,” I say, “on the plus side, after maybe two weeks or so, it doesn’t really get harder.” I take a breath. “And it means I could be this horny really at any point.”
Bear expresses surprise. He thought that I’d just get hornier and hornier as time goes on. I can see the gears turning. “I like it when you’re horny,” he says. “And you’ve been sick, and only been horny again for a couple of days. So, you’ll need to wait.”
Later that day, in the evening, when Bear teases my cock, I am calm again. Very horny, to be sure, but calm and accepting of the fact that I don’t know when I’ll come next. I mention this to Bear, tell him that this is what I meant by “cyclical”, and that I am glad that I can ask for an orgasm, and really mean it, and leave the rest to him. And though I really wanted to come, and was frustrated that I wasn’t allowed, I am also feeling very content in knowing that Bear can say “No” because he feels like it, and that this feels right for the both of us. I am grateful for his control.
Bear muses on how he felt a year ago. “A year ago,” he says, “if you had asked me to be allowed to come, I wouldn’t have been able to just say No. I would have agonized over it and hemmed and hawed. “He says he wants me to control him, but he also clearly wants to come, so should I let him come now?”” He chuckles. “Now, I can just say No.”
I explain that I am glad he’s at this point, now. It makes everything so much easier for me. I don’t have to go into a sub-angst tailspin about “does he really want this?” and “is he only playing the Dom to please me?” and round and round like that. I can trust that he does what he does because he wants to, and all I have to do is be myself. And obey, of course.
And to cap the porn and the “progress post”, here’s a picture we both enjoy.