Erections

06/28/2005

Tuesday

I’m thinking about erections. Hard-ons. Woodies. Blued steel.

Most of the time, these things are a pain in the ass. It’s the rare occasion that a nice stiffy becomes cause for celebration. I’m glad I can still have them, don’t get me wrong. But they happen throughout the day when I can’t necessarily do anything about them. I might be watching Arwyn playing with the boys, and just looking at her when one of these episodes intrude. Or just resting and daydreaming about something and all the sudden I have a hot one in my pants. It doesn’t even have to be a sexual thought, but once I’m aware of the arousal my mind leaps out of the gate.

Sometimes frustration is good. When I’m wearing the chastity cage, it’s okay because I see that as part of the deal. It’s what I sign on for when I snap the lock shut. Every hard-on is a reminder and a promise of the release to come. When I’m unlocked, I can make a date with myself fo the next morning or later in the night. It’s still with myself, though.

It’s not as if my wife has any appreciation for an erection. Perhaps this is the most off-putting bit about it. She’s not going to notice it and say “Honey, you look a bit tense. Let me help you loosen up. Let me relieve the pressure you.” Unless, of course she’s in a hurry to get me off so she can get some sleep. Then, Heaven forbid it isn’t hard enough. She is simply not a reliable source of relief.

An erection is a distraction, sometimes. Ever been in a position where there is serious emotional of physical tension? That adrenaline can summon forth hardness as fast as anything. Too bad my wife isn’t the type for make-up sex. Long drives. Sheesh! After a few hours on my ass, it’s as if Darth Sidious is just happy to be alive. I once dated a woman that understood that enough to indulge me. She was a super traveling companion. Not much on conversation, but she let be read over and play with her while driving whenever I wanted. And when it came time to stop for the night we would check in, unpack a few things and then get down to business. That has never happened with Arwyn. Ever. As a result, we don’t travel much. I traveled more in two years with the girl I let get away than I have done in 9 years with Arwyn. With the other girl, we would meander about the country, lazily looking for adventure. And then have hot sex at night and sometimes in the morning. With Arwyn, it is all business. I get from point A to point B by the shortest and most direct route. Driving begets tension which goes unrelieved and begets more tension. Unresolved, I become one unhappy bastard. It’s easier to stay home and relieve myself.

D.

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