It’s been two weeks since I came, but whose fault is that?
Yep, I’m the genius. This was my brilliant plan. We haven’t been able to repeat that hands-free orgasm. Graham says not to stress about it, that he’ll give it a go any time. He’s even willing to unlock me during the week for a practice session, so long as the rule is that if I don’t come handsfree then I don’t come. Back in the cage, boppity-boo, which you’d think would be pretty good incentive.
Graham can go as long as I need him to. No worries there. The problem is that at some point my focus jumps into my cock and once it’s there, my dick demands friction. I grab for it without even thinking. Graham yanks my hand up behind my back, finishes himself off in a few strokes, the greedy bastard, and there I am. No whole body orgasm, and not even the regular kind either.
We tried a whole bunch of times, got close and then closer, and then I had the brilliant idea that if I wasn’t coming on Friday nights, if I was truly, truly desperate, it’d happen. So two weeks ago I made him promise no more orgasms for me AT ALL unless they were handsfree which means two weeks ago our Friday night fuckfest ended with me getting my balls iced until he could cram me back in the cage. Ditto last Friday night and then last night …
Last night I just started bawling.
I knew I wasn’t going to get there even before he came but when he came I was just so fucking frustrated and disappointed, not to mention missing his dick the second it was out of me. I crawled over him to lick it clean and got a good dose of my own tears mixed in with the traces of his come.
Graham says we can stop this little experiment at any time—he doesn’t like seeing me cry unless he caused it intentionally—but fuck that. He doesn’t know how good it felt that night. I mean, he loved that I came on his dick. His swelled-up head practically glowed for the next few days. But I felt it. And I want to feel it again. I’ll go as long as it takes.
Graham’s always said I’m a stubborn man. He has no idea.
Update: Bwah hah ha ha. I knew it. I knew my plan would work. It’s all a matter of sufficient deprivation, see? Someone should hire me to give lectures on this shit. We weren’t even trying tonight. I had my CAGE ON. That’s right, fuckers. I came with my fucking cage on. I’m like the king of locked boys now. And it was weird, let me tell you, coming with my cage on, but good?
Well, not really. I mean, it was an orgasm, don’t get me wrong. But my jizz kind of … spluttered out. Like firing a limp cannon and the cannonball plops out of the barrel and rolls to a stop. So physically, I’m going to give it a 3, maybe a 4. Psychologically, pow! Holy grail, motherfucker.
But now that I’ve done it once, I think I’m good. We can try the handsfree thing on Fridays, I guess, but definitely cage off, and if I need a hand, I’m taking one. That’s the deal we made and now that my master theory of locked boy cumology has been proven, we’ll go back to it.