I rarely keep track of Lion’s orgasms. He does. Of course he does. He even puts the count in the subject line of emails he sends me. By the time I get home and we play I’ve forgotten if it’s been four days or eight. I go by how horny he is or just by whim. He will tell me after an orgasm how long he’s waited. Last night was five days.
Because of his medication we hadn’t played in a few days. How horny could he have been? Apparently the horniness builds up regardless of whether or not he actually feels like playing. I might consider yesterday as day one since we hadn’t played. No, no, no. The fire is still smoldering underneath the surface.
I find that funny. In the past he’s said that if we didn’t play for a while, eventually he’d lose interest. Does that only hold true if it’s me who doesn’t want to play? If he has an illness, the pilot light stays on. The furnace will be ignited as soon as he feels better. Whoosh! Eighty degrees in no time.
I’m not complaining. I’m merely observing Lion in his natural habitat. I like when he’s horny. I think he’s happier. Obviously he’s happier just after he’s had an orgasm, but he’s still very happy when he’s horny. Almost every touch elicits a purr from him. He’s just a big kitty cat looking for someone to rub his tummy – and elsewhere.