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Tits: My two cents

Like most straight guys, I’m a big fan of tits. And that’s no surprise, really. But there’s a lot of misnomers about them, and about what we like, and about what a guy like me, who’s as much of a pig as I can be and who spends hours looking at porn and holds porn stars to pretty high standards, likes in a pair of tits.

So let’s clear up a few things, shall we, with this being directed primarily toward the female audience:

They’re not breasts, they’re tits. More accurately, they’re teats, but the word is properly pronounced to sound like tits, and that’s the spelling people are comfortable with. Everybody has breasts, including guys. It refers to that area of the chest, not the sexy mounds we enjoy squeezing harder than you want us to (or not hard enough, depending on the girl). Teats are specific to this, and my preferred term. Plus the word is, well, rather titillating since it’s seen as one of the dirtier terms for them, so extra credit.

They’re not our primary interest. At least not all of us. There seems to be a MASSIVE obsession with tits, but I’m just as likely to be staring at a pretty girl’s ass or face as I am her tits, and be just as happy with those. And, honestly, when it comes to porn or mentally undressing a girl, I’m too obsessed with pussy for my mind not to go there most of all. So this is one good reason NOT to be self-conscious about your tits, and another reason not to assume that just because a guy isn’t staring at them doesn’t mean he’s not happily enjoying other parts of you.

Size DOESN’T matter. For the same reason that there’s no F-ing way you’ll EVER convince us that the size of our dicks doesn’t matter, we can’t seem to get this one through to you, either. Plus it doesn’t help that just like there are some girls who ARE size queens, there are some guys who ARE obsessed with huge tits. But overall, for the majority of guys, it really doesn’t matter.

Size DOES matter… in extremes. I know I just said it didn’t, but under some circumstances it very much does. But in my personal opinion, larger’s actually less attractive. Don’t take this to mean I don’t enjoy a big pair of tits. I enjoy nearly all tits very much. But I really enjoy being able to wrap my hand around each one and give them a squeeze, and if they’re too big to do that to, they’re less fun. I’m perfectly happy with a small pair of tits I can comfortably hold versus big pendulous ones I could sleep on. Give me a hot girl who’s got either and is happy to have me play with them and you won’t hear one word of complaint out of me, but all other things equal, I’d pick the small, perky, handleable pair first.

Implants are almost never worth it, no matter how small you are. Seriously. We can tell, and we’re not impressed. Just like with the previous paragraph, I’ll take a cute girl with a nice body with tiny tits over the same girl with fake ones any day. Again, give me a cute girl with a nice body who I like who’s willing to let me play with them, and I’m not going to be picky about which category she fits in, but if it was down to only that as a factor, the tiny real tits win hands down. Now maaaaaaybe if you’ve got other issues and you feel that’s the one thing you can improve more easily than any others I can see your logic, but then again you’ve probably got bigger problems.

Nipples are awesome, and resolve any of the issues above. High beams (visible nipples poking through your top) are so fucking hot, and any pair of tits is improved by them. If you can manage to skip the bra, go for it. Some girls try to hide these. Don’t. A girl with A-cups and high-beams is SO going to find me staring and enjoying the sight. If you’re the type who wishes you had cleavage, these are a great alternative that’ll get just as much attention.

But at the end of the day, no matter what kind of tits you are, your personality’s more important. A girl is usually hot more due to her attitude than her tits, ass, waist, face, or pussy. The more of those you have in place the easier your job is, but if you know how to act, how to carry yourself, and how to be a sexy person, it overrides any so-called physical flaws you may have. Work on that long before you start worrying that your tits aren’t up to YOUR standards.

One more note: Don’t let anything I’ve just said prevent you from doing what makes YOU happy. If you just plain don’t like your tits (or anything else about yourself), it’s as much my business to tell you not to do it as it is to try to talk you into it. If you need to make a change to feel more comfortable and confident about yourself, that’s your right. More power to you. But make sure it’s for YOU, and not for anybody else. Because we really don’t care as much as you’ve convinced yourself we do.

P.S. If you ARE this obsessed with your tits, then share the love and show us your tits! ;) Trust me, you’ll get 10x the attention of the girl with the big rack who keeps them to herself.

Addictions

I’ve begun to question whether it’s possible that I border on addicted to pornography. According to Wikipedia, whether or not pornography addiction even exists is a matter of opinion, but assuming we go with the proposed definitions, I come relatively close.

The reality, as you no doubt know from my Tumblr and Twitter feeds, is that I love pornography. Well, in reality I love sex and nudity, and pornography is the easiest access I have to as much of it as possible. But I think I’m splitting hairs that don’t need to be split there. Point is, I consume and share a very large volume of pornography, and quite likely more than the average person. I think about sex and sexual imagery frequently, which is arguably thinking about porn, and I frequently find excuses or opportunities to view it. While at home I’ll often take a break from another activity to look at some porn and share it on here. When I’m away from my computer I now have Tumblr, StumbleUpon, Twitter, and general web access from my smartphone and can do essentially all the same things, and I frequently do when I’m somewhere I can get away with it. So clearly I spend a great deal of time consuming porn and arrange certain activities around access to porn. This points toward a potential addiction.

But the flip side, and the place that makes me wonder whether this realization matters at all, is that I don’t fit into the negative aspects of a porn addiction, or any addiction. It doesn’t hurt my life or interaction with others. I don’t choose to view porn over spending time with friends or family or other, more interesting activities. I don’t avoid work to look at porn (at least any more than I might avoid work to browse the web, go on Facebook, play a game, etc.). I don’t throw away relationships over porn. I don’t pick porn over actual sex (now THAT would be a real problem). I do find I’m less likely to be able to masturbate or enjoy masturbating without pornography, although I think it’s more that I need external stimulation of some sort to enjoy sex, and I’m rarely in a place to use my imagination fully enough to achieve that, so whether it’s porn, erotic stories, or actual sex, I prefer some context to my orgasms.

The point is that I do think I obsess over porn to some degree, and I think it approaches a line. I find this interesting, and I find it interesting. But until it causes some harm, or risks doing so, I find it nothing to be concerned about.

But in reality, as inferred above, I’m not sure my obsession’s actually with porn and not sexuality in general. Porn is just an outlet. If I could be having sex three times a day, I would be doing so. Hell, lately I’ve been masturbating two-three times a day, although that’s honestly partially been in an effort to prove to myself that I can and see if forcing myself to do so makes it easier than it used to be (so far I’m thinking yes). I do think about sex, women, nudity, and specific aspects quite constantly (I’m pretty sure it’s obvious, but the thought of pussy is pretty much a constant in my head), and while contrary to what some close-minded people believe, I don’t allow pornography to color my view of women around me, but I can and DO find myself mentally stripping the women I meet on a daily basis, regardless of my professional or friendly relationship with them, and without any loss of respect for the person.

And yet again, I don’t fit the descriptions of a sex addiction either, as I don’t allow it to harm my life, I don’t find myself spending my rent money on escorts, damaging relationships to find anyone to get off with, going to clubs to find ANYONE to get in bed with, etc. So while I obsess over sex, I don’t think I cross the line into addiction.

I’m not quite sure where I’m going with this, but I wanted to put it out there, because I honestly find it interesting. I like deconstructing myself, and if sex is such a big deal to me, then I might as well deconstruct my thoughts on the matter.

So, anyone else wish to share their opinions on the topic?

My week - a blow-by-blow

Since people have expressed a genuine interest, I felt it was time to finally break down my week for all of you so you can see what I was going through and how it all worked out in the end.

It started with my lovely Venus going out of town for a couple of weeks after having already been away from me for a week (she lives far away, is married, and has more of a life than just me). While I had gone a few months without a partner before we started hooking up, once I had her it was hard to go back to no sex. Plus we had only just finally transitioned to bareback that last time before she was away, so it was even more of a tease.

While she was away we discussed timing and worked out that her cycle synced up well with her return. Not quite well enough for either of us to take the risk of a creampie (despite how badly we both wanted one), but well enough to take the much lesser risk of an anal one. Which would mean our first anal bareback. We were both extremely worked up about this idea, and I suspect you may have seen some of our pictorial conversations in reblogs on here.

The week before her return I got the idea to refrain from orgasm until I could fuck her ass. Not masturbation, but orgasm. I figured I could play with myself as much as I wanted, but I’d have to stop before I came each time and save it all up for her. It was my deviant form of a romantic gesture. And while she didn’t ask for it, she seemed to get a kick out of the idea.

Meanwhile I’ve been talking to a follower of the blog who recently emailed me to let me know she’ll be visiting my area next year and would like to meet up. While we’ve talked about a variety of things, obviously our shared love of sex (especially oral, in perfectly complementary opposites) became a primary topic and I din’t have to do much to get her to send me some dirty photos in exchange for a few improvised literary fantasies to get her off.

So when I got this new idea to save myself for Venus, I clued in my follower and let her know how easily she could frustrate me that week by sending me more pictures, nasty words, etc. And she took to the idea gleefully. Her competitive streak came out, and she clearly took the bait to try to break me. She sent many photos, including one that covers a kink I usually have to do some work to get, and each night I used those pictures to take myself to the edge. And when I say to the edge, I mean a new tip of the edge I’ve never found before, barely preserving my state with pulses and pre-orgasm sensations. One night a single touch of my cock would have set me off had I made the mistake.

She wasn’t all that had me edgy. Venus herself did a fine job of keeping the thoughts and text going and had me edgy as well. My cock ended up in my hand during more than one conversation with her, and one night that I almost managed to go to bed without taking any risks ended up in a chat with her that got me horny enough to find some erotica that took me so close that literally after pulling my hand off my cock and continuing to read I found my cock progressing into stronger pulses on its own. A few more words and I would have cum without touching myself. Again, I managed to shift my focus and throttle back in time, but only barely.

By the end of the week I was in pretty rough shape, and my mystery follower promised to make it harder on me by sending a video. She didn’t say what to expect, but considering how much damage the photos nearly did, I was a little concerned. So was Venus. Even though this wasn’t her idea, the idea of a girl halfway around the world breaking my plan to fill her ass to the brim with cum had her pretty pouty. And I’ve got to admit, that rivalry had me pretty turned on, too.

On Saturday I awoke to nothing specific, but hornier than ever. I stroked myself to within a few seconds of orgasm, but managed to shut off before heading out for a busy day that would hopefully distract me enough to make it through to Sunday when Venus would arrive.

And then I got the email from my follower that said only the following:

I’m going to break you later this afternoon.

I have to admit, that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, given the context, and it put me on overdrive. I told Venus about it, and she began to worry, too. And while I had a busy day and very few opportunities to be somewhere I could get off, I knew it wasn’t impossible if the right evidence arrived.

By the time I was in my car headed to my party that night, I found myself in the most physically frustrated shape I’ve ever been in. My cock was so sensitive and so tense that it almost hurt, and it wasn’t even hard. I felt like if I moved wrong I’d cum. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer, and I hadn’t received the video yet, and I was definitely freaked. I wanted to hold out for Venus, but the frustration and the tease and the game of chicken with my orgasms was too much fun, and I knew if I got that video I couldn’t hold back.

I told Venus all this and she begged me to wait to watch the video once it arrived until she was with me, until after I’d cum in her ass. I promised her I’d try, but that I was beginning to wonder if I could hold out even without it. And that’s when she decided to skip her plan to drive out the next day and would instead drive up that night, and meet me at midnight and give me her ass. I warned her I would’t last long, but that I’d probably be ready for more soon. She didn’t care. She just wanted to feel me cum in her ass. And so did I.

With that I went to my party and had a fantastic night that took my mind off of things for the most part. My cock calmed down and I had fun. And then I got the email with the videos. It took all my strength, but I held out and didn’t watch them.

Venus beat me home, but not by much. I came upstairs to find her sitting on my bed, and I promptly threw her down on her back and embraced her lips with mine as I ground myself against her crotch until I was fully erect, which couldn’t have taken long. I yanked down my pants only as far as was necessary, threw up the bottom of her dress that she had worn to the wedding she had attended earlier that night, and plunged my cock into her cunt balls deep on the first thrust (she was very wet).

I fucked her hard, I fucked her deep, and I fucked her fully dressed. My stamina was apparently fully under my control despite the week, and I got to ride it out until I was ready to shift tactics, get out the lube, and lube up her sweet little asshole while she rubbed her pussy to yet another orgasm.

Once she was ready, I carefully slid my cock into her ass. She was so desiring, and I was so desperate, that I think it took only three strokes before I had bottomed out, bareback, in her ass for the first time and began to buttfuck her in earnest, with strong, full strokes, slowly ramping up to the speed and strength with which I’d normally pound her pussy. And like my good girl she took it with only the most desiring looks on her face.

Finally when I told her I was ready to cum she began to beg me to cum in her ass. What I love about Venus is that she meant it. She didn’t merely want me to make myself happy, she deeply wanted my cum in her ass. As much as I wanted to put it there. And when I was fully convinced of that, I rammed my cock as deep as it would fit and unloaded blast after blast after blast of my hot cum into her and watched the reaction on her face as she felt me filling her up.

We kept my cock in her ass like a cork for as long as possible, and she kept my cum in there for quite a while longer before we finally called it a night and passed out in each other’s arms.

Sunday morning started out with Venus being awakened by my cock fully penetrating her apparently already-soaked pussy which led to a session ending in her swallowing my load like the good girl she always is. Less than 30 minutes later I was back in, fucking her from behind and finding my edge once again, pulling out only in time to cover her ass with what was still a surprisingly large amount of cum.

We fucked throughout the day in various places, on various things, and against various walls. She sucked me, I ate her, fingers, hands, tongues, etc. were all employed. She came many times, I held out to make sure I’d get it in the right place at the right time.

Our evening culminated on the couch, watching TV, when we forgot about the TV and she ended up back on top of me and began to ride my cock, bareback, in her pussy. The tone was different, and there was a sense of desire in both of us. She wanted me to cum again, but she didn’t want to pull off of me. I could see her doing math in her head, but we both knew we couldn’t risk it. But we also knew we could’t stand to stop. She wanted to feel my cum in her pussy as badly as I wanted it in there. She began to warn me that I was going to have to stop her before it was too late, because she wasn’t going to want to pull off. She rode me until I knew I couldn’t last much longer and I had to shove her off. She grinded my cock with her pussy for a while while we talked about how badly we wanted to push our luck, and I finally told her I was ready for round two of our little game of chicken.

This round didn’t last as long, and the stakes were higher as both of us were having a harder time fighting it. I finally managed to shove her off, but with a much closer call and a lot more resistance from her.

We talked as I came down from the edge and formulated a new idea. She wanted to fuck me ‘til my cock was good and wet with her juices and until I was truly at the absolute end of my limits of control and then, when I definitely couldn’t hold back the cum any longer, I’d pull out and shove my unlubed cock straight into her ass to finish. In all honesty, it was a stupid, reckless, dangerous idea. And I agreed to it wholeheartedly.

Round three began and I worked my way back. I knew I had to time it just right because too early and I’d have to fuck her unlubed and risk some serious pain. Too late and she’s have a pussy full of cum. I fought and held and finally called it at a moment that by a complete force of sheer luck was right on time because as I shoved my cock up against her asshole I started to cum, and realizing the risk I slammed her body down and felt my cock slide deep into her as I came for all I was worth. I didn’t honestly at that moment know WHAT hole I was in, but I was in, and it was too late to stop it and we might as well enjoy the ride.

Once my orgasm subsided she confirmed that I had found her ass just fine and my cum was deep inside it. I was relieved and exceptionally happy. She was in pain and just as happy. But I think the timing of my orgasm as the head of my cock pushed into her ass helped, as I think I literally lubricated myself on the way in. I could never time it like that on purpose, I bet.

We fucked one more time last night, but I didn’t cum, nor did I care. Venus managed to break the record for most orgasms a partner’s gotten out of me in 24 hours (four), and I had had lots of sex and cum in her ass twice.

I did get one more orgasm with her this morning, but on her back. I just couldn’t move fast enough from the edge I found in her pussy to her mouth to have her swallow it, so I settled for cumming on her.

I eventually left for work and hours later when I finally visited the restroom I found the evidence that we literally fucked my cock raw this weekend. So while we managed to even out my average for having skipped so many orgasms last week, I’m going to have to pay for it in healing time this week. My poor cock looks very badly abused. And I don’t regret it in the least.

Lockdown

On a whim I decided to lock my cock up just now. It was a rather impetuous, sudden, somewhat irrational decision, but for some reason I just felt like doing it. After my year of tracked orgasms and overfocus on them, it felt like it was time to take a forced break from it for a little while. I was exceptionally horny all day thinking about this plan, and knew once I got home I’d go for it.

First I set up an account with Chastity Locked to handle virtual keyholder services. I unlocked the small padlock, put the keys in my lock box, spun the combination, then took a photo and uploaded it to them, and immediately turned the box upside down so I couldn’t see it and deleted the photo from my phone and computer. The plan was then to wait for their confirmation email notifying me that the photo was clearly visible at which point I could then close the lock box entirely and spin the combination again to ensure I don’t know what it is. I set the site’s settings to a maximum of 1 week locked up, minimum of 3 days (they choose the actual time randomly). I’ve had myself locked up on purpose for a maximum of 6 days before, so I knew 3 was nothing. I set it to tell me the exact time I had left, as well.

I then went about setting up the device, using moisturizer on my cock in preparation and to ensure easy insertion, then going through the components and this time deciding to experiment with a tighter ring than last time, hoping it would restrict my movement just a bit more and make orgasm a little trickier. Seemed worth a shot. The plan was to leave this size on for an hour or two, while waiting for them to verify my photo, and put myself through my erection paces to see if I could handle it or if it was too restrictive, at which point I’d move back up to the ring size I used last time. I put the lock on as well, to ensure everything stayed tight and accurate, knowing I could easily retrieve the keys to unlock it before making this permanent.

I also hadn’t figured out in all of this when exactly I was going to jack off one last time before my 3-to-7-day lockdown, but figured I’d likely disconnect the device and give myself one more sweet release moments before sliding it back into the device and losing it.

And then I got the email saying the photo had been successfully verified. And something in me snapped and without even a moment of thought I closed the lockbox and spun the wheels. It wasn’t until it was too late that I realized:

  • I was just experimenting with the ring size.
  • I hadn’t checked how long I was going to be locked up for.
  • I hadn’t COME yet.
Fuck. What an ultimate moment of loss of power and downright despair. And a perfect rush of exactly what I was going for at the same time.
Anyway, I checked the site, and doesn’t it just figure: 6 days and 10 hours. They hit essentially just within my maximum. 6 days and 10 hours without access to my cock, and I just did the math and realize I already haven’t cum in nearly 60 HOURS. Last time I got off was Sunday at 9:30, and it’s now 21:00 on Tuesday. How fucking crazy am I?
The reality is I’m sure I’ll break between now and then and cum in this thing. It may be the voluntary result of being horny enough to use it to jack off despite how uncomfortably unpleasant an orgasm it will be (and a pain to clean up), or if my frustration gets extreme enough we might even see an involuntary one (the first time I came in this new device I never had to touch it, but I did flex it rhythmically with my pubococcygeal muscle), which could potentially come at a very awkward moment. I’ll try to try to avoid it, but I’m only human, and I’m me, and 6+ fucking days without touching my cock is going to weigh on me.
What the fuck did I just do to myself?

My interesting car ride

During my work week, most work days I have a 30-minute drive between clients. Today I was in the mood to push my luck with my device again. After all, since it can’t do what I TRULY want it to do (fully prevent orgasm, therefore building ultimate frustration), that’s the next best thing and has kind of taken over as my primary interest in it.

So I decided to test the auto-masturbation skills that the chastity device provides me while in a distracted, semi-public, hands-free situation. Now I partially prepped for this this morning (this and the realization that as my frustration built, the possibility of coming by accident was going to become more and more real) by putting a condom over the head of the device (the device is shaped to contain the head, so the condom snugly settles down around the fake cock-head ridge). While I love the idea of awkwardness (and an accidental orgasm while in public would indeed cover that), I’m not in the mood for utter humiliation, and a quickly-spreading semen stain across my pants isn’t in the cards for me. So I took precautions. Besides, it was an extra-large condom left over from a combo pack that I was never going to use.

First things first: I needed an erection. And not just an erection, but a lasting one surrounded by a real sense of frustration. Since I was driving, porn wasn’t an option, so it was time to bring on the fantasies. Below is an expansion of what I was picturing in my head:

In this case, I went for low-hanging fruit and built a more ideal version of my current scenario in my head. In this case I wasn’t locked up by myself, but had been locked up by a willing, and gleeful female sexual partner. It was a control game on her part, and we would lock me up for various periods of time on her whim. In this case, as with all of ours, I had put my trust in her and agreed to be locked down for a period she’d reveal only after locking the device and taking control of the key. She had never picked a period longer than a week, so my trust was strong. But this time she excitedly informed me that I wasn’t going to get to cum for an entire month. I was shocked, but she was downright giddy. 

During this month I became far more aware than during previous, shorter terms, that I could definitely get off while wearing the device. But based on the rules of our relationship and my commitment to our game, I informed her of this as soon as possible. She immediately agreed that will power would have to be added to the equation, as well as punishment. She’d extend my lockup by an entire week every time I came. The punishment was severe enough that, while I got close several times, especially when she worked as hard as she could to tease me, I managed to hold off and the month was “soon” (hardly) over.

That’s backstory to lead up to the part that got me going in the car ride. The month was up, and she informed that I would finally get to cum. At which point she climbed on top of me and sat on my face and informed me that I would only get to come while I ate her, with my hands never leaving her ass, with no assistance from her, and my cock still locked tightly away in its cage.

I was shocked to say the least, and a combination of shattered, disappointed, and hornier than I had yet been the entire month. This was extremely cruel on her part, and I’d never found her so hot. My cock was instantly hard, straining at the device, and my tongue was going to work as she watched me flex my cock in its cage, trying to use it to pump itself and build me to my much-desired orgasm.

In this scenario I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or depressed at how easily I got myself close. It probably took less than a minute before I could feel things starting to boil and knew I was probably only five or six more pulses away from coming. My body started to tense and she sensed this and pulled her pussy away from my face and said, “STOP.”

I didn’t want to, but I also knew disobeying her orders could go very poorly for me. My cock hadn’t quite reached involuntary convulsions yet, so I managed to pull back and stop the movements as I stared up at her with a desperate look on my face.

"Don’t worry," she said. "You’ll still come. But you’ve been so good that I’ve decided to improve things for you. If you can make me come before you do, I’ll remove the cage for the whole night AND I’ll let you come in my mouth right now."

This was too good a deal to ignore, so I quickly nodded my head and found her pussy ground tight against my mouth before I could make a sound.

"But no cheating. I want to still see your cock flexing the whole time. If I sense you holding back, the whole deal’s off."

Shit. That’s going to make it harder. I was already close as it was. Luckily the few seconds down had let me cool a bit, and it was taking longer to build. If I just reduced my tempo a little bit, tried to concentrate my mind on anything but her delicious pussy, and really worked her clit the way she liked, I might just get through this.

Maybe it was the overall situation that turned her on as much as me, but to me luck I began to feel her squeezing my head with her thighs the way I knew meant she was getting close. And while I wasn’t that far off myself, she was definitely closer.

And that’s when I felt her tongue snaking sideways into the tip of my cock cage and flicking the precum off the head of my cock. Fuck, who’s cheating now?

I gambled with the fact that her focus was on her own pending orgasm and I drastically reduced the speed of my flexing to keep her tongue from killing the deal. It was still an incredibly close call, but the next thing I knew I felt her tongue withdraw and heard her start to scream as her legs clamped tightly around my head and began to buck. I only hoped she didn’t break my nose.

Once she came down and I finished licking up the excess moisture around her pussy, she pulled up from it again and said, “good boy. Now you get your reward. But I have to warn you… I may have misstated my offer earlier. You’ll get your cage removed, and you’ll get to come in my mouth now… but not in that order, and only if you hurry. My mouth’s about to go around the head of your cage and I’m going to count to 15. If you haven’t blown your load before I’m done, you’re coming on yourself.” And with that I felt the change in temperature and pressure as she clamped her mouth around the head of the device and began to suck on it.

I didn’t miss a beat, barely focused on the bait-and-switch and realization that I wasn’t going to get to enjoy an actual blow job after a month of no orgasms, and started pulsing my cock as fast as I could manage, while also pulling her pussy back down to my mouth, as nothing makes me hornier than eating pussy. I felt her tapping out her count on my balls, but I skipped counting along and just focused.

And thankfully the closeness I had already reached before, combined with my face full of pussy brought me home, and with what I think was mere seconds to spare I began to spurt. Since I was so hard, my cock head was pressed hard against the slit, bulging out slightly, ensuring that every spurt of my come (in its increased intensity and volume) shot straight through and into her welcoming mouth. I wanted so badly to be able to feel her wet mouth around my head and tongue against my shaft as I unloaded in her mouth, but I settled for what I got, which was the most constricted, uncomfortable, difficult, disconnected orgasm I’d ever had. And I loved every second of it despite how much I hated it.

Once I came down she pulled away and licked the little bit of my head she could reach clean, and finally pulled the key out from the chain dangling between her breasts.

Anyway, that’s the extension of what I used in the car. And boy did it have an impact. Three separate times I got so close to orgasm that I was thanking myself for thinking of the condom this morning. And yet, I never quite came. Granted, I held back slightly because I still WANT to hold out until my unlock, but I still tended to find myself edging back ever so slightly from the point of no return. But there’s absolutely no question that with enough effort, or further mental stimulation, that condom would have been full and I would have had an uncomfortable remaining car ride.

Now what I think I’ve taken away from this is an interesting possible way to work with the limits of this device (again, mainly the fact that it won’t stop me from coming) to still drastically reduce my ability to get myself off, and increase the complexity and indignity of it heavily in the process. Simply enough, I’m not going to allow myself to touch the cage or my “package” in any way while locked up outside of what’s necessary to shower or urinate. No more jacking the cage to bring myself to the edge or grab the little bit of pleasure I can. My hands aren’t allowed in the equation. If I’m desperate enough to want to get close, I’ll have to settle ONLY for doing so via the above-described auto-masturbation techniques. Use my internal muscles to flex my cock enough to get the cage to do some of the work. If I’m desperate and frustrated enough for this to finally succeed, so be it. But I’ll attempt no other technique. I’ll probably also include that I can only do it clothed, to make it even more complicated and disconnected.

Hopefully this will reduce the odds further, and make the rare slip-ups that much trickier and less enjoyable. Which is exactly how I want it.

Countless shades of defeat

So I lost big-time last night, on multiple levels. Let me count the ways:

  1. The girl who could be my ultimate sexual match if she didn’t live oceans away managed to wear me down throughout the day. Her emails, photos, and videos had me pretty well-convinced that today, when she promised to put in the extreme effort, I would definitely come. I was resigned to enjoying both the fact that I’d come in my cage, though, and the fact that it would be an utter wasted, ruined orgasm. But…
  2. I got drunk last night and started fiddling with the device. And I finally tried the one thing I had managed to avoid trying while sober: after moisturizing my cock with Q-tips like I do twice a day, and moving it around in the tube to get an even distribution, I realized just how much range I had soft. So, with essentially no effort, I pulled my cock right out of the cage. It was still locked around my balls, so that’s still not going anywhere until I get my unlock code, but my cock pulled out easily. I achieved erection, edged myself (which is far less dangerous when I don’t have a tube around my cock to take me sailing over that edge), let it subside, threw some more moisturizer on and shoved it back in the tube. The latter part was certainly more difficult than yanking it out, but hardly difficult enough to fear it.
  3. I promised myself not to take my cock back out again and to wait. Then I took it back out several more times and edged myself each time. Because, as everybody knows is the entire reason I locked myself in this thing: I have no willpower. If I have access to my cock, I WILL masturbate with it. This is simple reality. And now I had access to it. Which led me to realize how futile the entire fucking thing was, which led me to…
  4. I begged my distance teaser to make me come.  And she came through with a fucking hot masturbation video. I settled for the fact that I’d do it in the cage and it would be ruined. Unfortunately, drunk as I was, I couldn’t get the in-cage masturbation to get me close enough, so instead of taking that as some sort of sign, I…
  5. Pulled myself out of the cage and got to work. The plan was still to ruin my first orgasm in what I later realized was over 7 and a half days. I figured I had a lot of pent-up cum in my cock, and it would be fun to watch it all pour out in the least-enjoyable way. So I first turned on record on my camera phone, then I grabbed my cock and started jerking, took myself to the edge, and let go. I can’t fully qualify this as a failure. What proceeded was possibly the most epic orgasm of my life. It technically came in three stages, and I arguably ruined all three separate stages, but the volume and velocity of cum was the most spectacular I’ve ever seen come out of my cock, and it sure felt fucking good even if I wasn’t actively pumping myself through the whole thing. So this was arguably far more win than fail. And yes, the video’s being converted on a porn-upload site as we speak. You can find the video here.
  6. I went to sleep unsure of how I’d proceed now that I realized only my balls were locked in this cage. I woke up to find voting had finished on my fate, and I had of course been punished with a 12-hour penalty. So 12 more hours of my balls locked in a cage, while my cock’s fully accessible to jerk to my heart’s content. But I checked the site and it said I had only 1 day and 10 hours remaining. Maybe it’s a glitch, but either way, it seems to have subtracted the 12 hours, not added it. I guess that’s something to be grateful for.
  7. And now, watching the video of last night and considering the rest, I’m horny as fuck, and I get the strong feeling that I’m about to continue to prove how shitty my willpower is and I’m going to pull my cock back out again and come. But I’ll at least attempt to ruin it again. I’m determined to ensure every orgasm in this device is at least ruined to some degree.

And that’s my list of defeats. From here I’m not sure what I’ll do. The orgasm from last night was, indeed, amazing, and I’d love to do that more, especially with a partner who I could overfill or paint white. But now that I know the device is useless for achieving that, I’m going to have to go back to the drawing board. I may be stuck with only being able to fully experience this device with a partner. Or I may simply need a different one. Time will tell.

Letting her behind the curtain

I started seeing someone this weekend. I can’t speak to its future, obviously, because it’s been only one weekend… but from the night of our first date Friday to our last date Monday night, we were together somewhere in the range of 28 hours.

She’s sexy, she’s geeky, she’s smart, and she’s apparently turned on by me. It’s quite a combination.

Also, as is my policy, I’ve made her aware of this aspect of my life… but haven’t let her in yet. She knows what I do here, but doesn’t know my name.

Last night she had me almost literally by the balls to tell her my name. She implied fun we wouldn’t have until I did. Fun I desperately, desperately wanted needed. I gave her hints, but they weren’t quite enough. This may be the earliest in a connection that I’ve considering handing over the keys. But I may just do it. But first I think I’ll try to negotiate the right terms of my surrender.

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