I’ve read that men are supposed to think about sex almost constantly. The number varies depending on the author’s perspective. If the writer is a female who isn’t terribly fond of males, we are accused of thinking about sex more than once every minute. Less militant writers male and female, have us thinking about sex several times an hour.
Depending on how engaged I am with a task at hand, I think about sex anywhere from 0 to 10 times an hour. I don’t keep track; this is just my estimate. I don’t know how often Mrs. Lion thinks about sex. My guess is that she doesn’t think about it much at all. When she does, it’s most certainly about doing something for or to me.
When I think about sex, it’s often in the context of either our power exchanges or oral and vaginal intercourse. I might fondly remember times when we might have done both in the same session. Years ago, I would lie on my back and Mrs. Lion would begin by sucking my cock. After she got my full attention, she would kneel straddling me with her butt facing my face (reverse cowgirl position) and ride my penis until I came. She would then move up my body, still facing my feet, and push either her ass or her pussy over my face for oral attention. Usually, she would present her vagina first so that I could clean out the mess I made inside her. Then she would move down and I could pay oral attention to her ass.
I love thinking about those times. It was wonderful fun. Sometimes, she would only ride me for a little while and then move over my face. After she enjoyed her orgasms, she would dismount and masturbate me to orgasm. Occasionally she would feed me my semen. Most of the time she would consume it herself. I can’t understand why, but she loves the taste of my semen. I’m not fond of it all. That’s why sometimes she will sacrifice and make me eat it.
Thinking about those times never fails to turn me on. I absolutely love when we did that. As I recall, we started this particular set of activities very soon after our first meeting. We kept it up for quite a long time. After we began living together, we did this less often. It was my fault.
When we met for sex, we both knew exactly what we were going to do. After all, we drove to the place for the express purpose of sex. When we lived together it was a little different. We didn’t have explicit plans for sex. I’ve never been good at initiating sex. I can’t explain why, but it’s always been very difficult for me. When we were meeting before we lived together, it wasn’t a matter of initiating. We just began what we planned to do.
It may have been my difficulty with getting things started that contributed to Mrs. Lion’s loss of interest in sex. She really likes me to initiate things. Well, she doesn’t anymore. It may not be such a mystery now why it was so hard for me. I think I’ve always been a bottom at heart. When it comes to sex, I’ve always needed my partner to be in charge. That need is probably why I missed out on a lot of great opportunities over the years. Women would wait for me to get things going, and when I didn’t they would wander off. Fortunately, somehow I managed to have quite a bit of sex anyway.
Enforced male chastity solved this problem of mine. Not only am I not expected to initiate, I’m not allowed to do anything sexual on my own. From my perspective, this fits very well with my sexual abilities. I’m good at sex, at least I’ve been told that. I’m just absolutely terrible at getting things started.
Another sexual thought that crosses my mind now and then was an incident that took place long before I met Mrs. Lion. I had been friends — just friends — with a woman for many years. After almost 10 years of friendship, she confessed that she had a dream about having sex with me. We were both married at the time. When things fell apart with my wife, I remembered that conversation and I got back to her and asked her she was still interested. She confessed that she still had that dream. I asked her if she wanted me to make it come true. She did.
On my way to a business trip in another city, I made a stop where she lived. We had arranged to meet in a hotel. She wanted to take a shower before beginning. I told her I would join her. So we had a nice shower to get squeaky clean for one another. I do love how it feels when a woman washes my cock and balls.
After we dried off, she went to the bed and lay down on her back with her legs apart. I didn’t expect her to just go and lie down, but in the spirit of good sportsmanship I proceeded to make love to her. She didn’t move the entire time. After I came, she commented, “I’ve never come that quickly.”
I was amazed. As far as I could tell she didn’t have any fun at all. I was happy that she was satisfied. It’s odd that I think about this encounter, we never had another. Why would I single out this experience? It’s probably because on some level she and I wanted each other for many years. That strange meeting was the culmination of all that anticipation. It just wasn’t anywhere near the way I expected it to go. Still, it pops up sometimes when I think about sex.
Most often I think about Mrs. Lion tying me to the bed or in the sling and playing with me. She’s a master of CBT. I remember times she put 45 or more clothespins on my cock and balls. It was pretty uncomfortable, but it still turned me on.
I also think about her painting a racing stripe from the bottom of my cock all the way to my anus with Icy Hot, Ben Gay, or some other hot stuff. She seems very fond of painting those hot stripes.
She also likes to tie my balls tightly with each one separated from the other. Then, she enjoys bouncing them or slapping them. She will masturbate me vigorously which forces the balls to bounce on each stroke. I do love that.
I have lots to think about when I want to think about sex. Thanks to Mrs. Lion I get to do more than think about it. I get to live it.
