Saturday, December 15, 2007

I Really Got Lucky This Time

The Real Thing

After 88 days of not getting mine off, I got lucky! Yet I think that you will not believe this. I would not.

We have a huge bed that we share. It is about an acre in size, so that the cats and we all have our own space. Except that the cats don’t really respect our space, so MW and I take what is left. Still, it is a huge bed with a hard mattress and a cock (mine or hers, depending on how one holds it), and a soft topping that she likes. Of course, the friggin’ cats like whatever they like. Not that I object. I like cats. It is just that I also like to stretch out past my six-foot frame which is why we have such a big bed. But that’s another story.

We spent the evening watching the latest Harry Potter movie. I like those kids, I have enjoyed seeing the sweet young children grow up to be obnoxious teenagers accommodating the viewers for a fee. OK, they are not that obnoxious, at least, not as bad as my children were at that age. Hell, nobody was that bad.

I usually pass out at an early hour due to my wine consumption, and the habit of getting up early, like at 2AM. After some serious snoring something stirred me. Lying in bed face down I felt with my left hand, and I could almost identify it as part of female anatomy. As you probably know me by now, I have no use for such, so I went back to sleep. Well, maybe not. OK, I am kidding. Give me a friggin’ break! If I as much as thouch female anatomy I explode in orgasm. I conrolled my eruption admirably this time in anticipation of what might come.

It was a thigh indeed, owned by my MW and very much coveted by me while in a wakeful state. Of course, that required me to be in a wakeful state which at this time I was not. My face being close to the center of my being I did not need much prompting to become alert. Her scent will be enough to revive me after being “long dead” like in the movie, “Young Frankenstein.” That is meant in a good way, as in, “Let me sniff it, and I will live for ever!”

I began to run my fingers over her lips tentatively. I had to be careful because she is very protective of them, at least at the beginning. Once admitting entry, she is very generous, and I can pleasure her as much, and in any way that she allows. Alas, that is the only way. As I was saying… Her scent was making things happen down there, and she did not put up a fight, so I tried various things with my fail-safe organ, my tongue.

First it was with a side-by-side position that we used in the past successfully. After a few minutes it was obvious that I was not making a credible contribution, so I turned 180 degrees. For those of you victims of public education that means turning around until my head and legs were pointed in completely opposite directions as before. Oh shit, I should just give up on this!

I tried it from this, our favorite position, but she would not open her thighs. Now, I could force her lips open with my tongue. It would be great, I would triumph, and all that. I would also be pitched on my skinny ass off the bed. So, I did not force anything. I backed off, I smelled her scent as I was breathing the juices off my own face, and just cooled it for a while.

In a short time she made overtures about wanting the hard little fucker that kept getting between me and her. Hey, I am a nice guy, I won’t get in the way of a beautiful woman and her cock. So I went along with it. That little fuckin' traitor!

Oh My! It had been eighty-eight days! In case you are numerically challenged, that means 88 friggin days without orgasm. Can you imagine my state of mind?

I was on top of this gorgeous female with all the charms that I can think of, my “little guy” poking and quickly entering the very portal for which most men would be willing to die, given a chance. I did, and he did, and we went at it. No, we did not die. We just entered. For a short time.

Now, you have to take this in context. I am the guy who keeps saying, “Oh, excuse me,” because I keep bumping into people and things with my little guy pointing straight at my chin. I mean, I am one friggin walking hard-on most of the time! Usually. But not this time. The little fugger decided to go south without a forwarding address.

Aside from being embarrassing it was a tad frustrating. I was ready from day one, all along, and then here I was at day eighty-eight without so much as a thing the size of an acorn to do her justice. The little shit let me down. I could have killed him! No, wait, that would not work.

Anyway, I was very disappointed. Even pissed! I kept going through the routine, (OK, friggin’ “pounding away”) but to no avail. After slipping out a couple of times, with which she helped me to re-insert, it was obvious that he and I were history.

My sweet and understanding MW suggested that whatever I missed would be available when the “little shit” (not her choice of words) was ready whether or not I was around to help. Oh great! Now she was ready to use the creep without my help. Could I sleep through it? Yes, I have had wet dreams lately. I think that a plastic cast of him would suffice for her, and I could just go and search some other means during the dark hours of the night when nobody cares, and the little shit is doing his thing. This is pathetic.

He pissed me off! I am thinking of some real mean things that I could do to punish him.

Wait, this does not follow!

My tits hurt. I have fond memories of MW having her way with them. Oh my God! She allowed me to massage her voluptuous self after I got my wits stuffed back into my skull, and the little guy (very little at this time) just hanging on. I had my hands and fingers all over her back and back of her legs. It was an orgasm in waiting! She does that to me. Yes, the orgasm waited under the circumstances even though the little shit came back smiling. I just did not trust him for the time being.

I am ready. Will the little shit be ready? I know that he is full of it during the night and during the day when I keep bumping into things, but will he persist with me? Damn, he is a spoil-spurt.

My MW challenges me with her charms. I think that the little fugger will come through. After all, he is in a worse case than I am for my MW’s charms. We could die happy within her charms. At least he and I agree on this one thing.

I ask you. How in hell did I manage to fumble this? This was a no-challenge “just slip it in and do it” approach at some point. If I was adversely affected by the spirits, it could not have been too far since I am writing this afterward. Has anything like this ever happened to you?

I know that women don’t have this problem for a couple of reasons. One, if she were to lose her erection, I don’t think that we, thick headed schmucks, would notice. As beautiful as her clit is, in the throes of testosterone I don't think that I could tell her erection from one of her tits unless I were taking a photograph. Two, if she is using an attached device, the device seldom, if ever, loses erection. Given that, I probably will not get much sympathy from the ladies. But guys, help me with this! What did I do wrong?

MW has a comment,

I say, calm down, and prepare to use your other very useful parts this evening. The little fugger will COME through when he is good and ready. In the meanwhile, the rest of you can keep busy pleasuring ME.

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