But The Other Guys Do It

Please?

Mrs. Lion’s post yesterday announced that she has decided she will masturbate in front of me. It was a big surprise. She’s been uninterested in sex for years.  She’s doing it as a way of jump starting her libido. Great idea! It will be very hot watching her playing with her pussy. She’s never masturbated in my presence. In fact, I didn’t think she masturbated at all. I’m sure she told me she didn’t.  She explained that this would be a first step to kick start her libido. She also said that I didn’t need the demo, I do a great job already. In any case, this is very good news to me.

I couldn’t help myself (you hear that a lot), I had to ask if that means I can jerk off too. The answer was a predictable “No!” She went on to say that she considered letting me do it in front of her now and then. My ears perked up. Then she said that she didn’t think it was a good idea. I helpfully pointed out that I haven’t done it in nearly four years. She smiled and said, “I know.”

I tried my next best play,

“But the other guys get to do it,” I pleaded.

“Who besides Julie’s husband does?” she calmly responded.

Long pause. “I don’t know.”

“See? The other guys don’t usually get to do it. Why should you?”

I had no answer to that. I looked down at my caged penis sadly. I wasn’t really sad. I never got a big thrill out of jerking off. It was more like taking care of a bodily function for me. It wouldn’t be a giant turn on to have her watch me masturbate. I’d much rather have her provide my sexual release.

In all fairness, I have to say that Julie’s husband isn’t given a chance to wack off as a reward. It’s generally framed as a way to get rid of his erection or a small treat for performing well. When you are driven half mad by participating is sexual activities where everyone else has an orgasm, being allowed to jerk off is like being served a steak dinner. The more desperate the need, the better it feels.

That’s not exactly true, at least for me. When I am massively horny, sporting a rock-solid dripping penis, the odds are that the orgasm will hurt more than be amazingly spectacular. I expect fireworks and the Eighteen-twelve Overture and end up with a stinging eruption of mount Lion. This doesn’t happen that often, but it is generally when I have been waiting a long time and the buildup has been very successful. The next orgasm will be filled with fireworks and loud, triumphant music.

My usual ejaculations are accompanied by music I emit. Since enforced chastity began, my noise level has gone up significantly. As I recall, five years ago the only evidence of my orgasm was the ejaculation making a mess and some heavy breathing from me. Since Mrs. Lion has been my sole provider, I’m a regular sound machine with loud Oh’s and other noises I can’t describe. I’ve wondered if this was subconsciously encouraged evidence of her success; sort of a way to encourage her to give me more. For the record, it doesn’t work.

The only occasionally successful technique I’ve found to turn teasing into orgasm has been what Mrs. Lion calls bucking. I call it humping. In any case, I move my hips to try to wring out more stimulation that will possibly get me relief. Sometimes she synchronizes her hand or mouth movement with my “bucking”. That is amazing. Of course, she’s on to me and removes contact with my penis just before I reach the promised land.

I know she likes it when I get so excited I “buck”. That’s probably why I get those charity orgasms. I don’t care. I’m not proud.

When I was a kid, the “All the other kids have one” argument was much more successful than it is now. Mrs. Lion doesn’t fall for it like my mom and dad did. You can’t shoot a lion for trying.