By:
In: Edging, Spanking games

It never fails to surprise me how Mrs. Lion and I end up thinking and writing about very similar things. In her post yesterday, “Super Horny,” she wrote about edging me the night before. She wondered about edging me day after day until I was at the limit and just had to come.  I commented that in the past when she asked me if I wanted to come and if I replied that I did, she would let me ejaculate. It spoils the fun of the power exchange if I can simply say I want an orgasm and then get it.

She did write that maybe she would say no and make me wait. She went on to say that she may make me wait a day or two more. She also wrote that it would be fun to make me wait until I had reached a limit and just had to come. I agree. But how would she know I had reached that point? More importantly, how would I know?

The only time to ask me if I want to come is when I have just been edged within a stroke of ejaculation. At that moment I should be at my most desperate. I can honestly say that most of the time when I have just been edged I am conflicted. Part of me wants to ejaculate. Another part wants to wait and have more fun.

Mrs. Lion also wrote that she wished I had a meter that told her how close to ejaculating I am. That would make it easier to avoid ruined orgasms. Sadly, I’m not equipped with one of those. However, there may be a “meter” to determine how desperate I am for an orgasm. I haven’t thought this through, but wouldn’t a good way to decide if I am really at a limit is to ask me if I would do or take something if allowed to come? What would I do for a Klondike Bar?

For example, Mrs. Lion might say, “If I let you come now, your next orgasm will be at least 20 days from now. Are you that desperate?” Her Lion meter would be my agreeing to that. Or, she might ask me if I would trade a disciplinary spanking right after my orgasm for a chance to come? You get the idea. The best way to gauge sexual desperation is to offer an unpleasant trade in exchange for ejaculation.

It can’t be too unpleasant since I don’t think my desperation would ever rise high enough to do anything for a chance to come. Mrs. Lion has a good arsenal of things I dislike. The other key to this is to ask the question when I am most desperate. If you asked me right now while I am writing this post, I wouldn’t be all that interested. But, if you ask me while I am panting from being edged, my willingness to make a deal might improve.

Mrs. Lion likes games. I guess I do too. This one might be fun for her. She gets to work out the “price” of ejaculation and then watch me try to decide if I want to buy an orgasm. Even if I agree, she can still say no. Cruel lioness!

other games

Another area we might want to think about is our spanking games. We only play Spankball and Spankardy if I ask to play. I think it would be more fun for me if Mrs. Lion decides when we play. By that I mean she can just say, “Tonight we are playing Spankardy.” The same is true of Spankball. She doesn’t even have to tell me before or during the game. She can just announce it at any time, even a day later. The score is known. She may miss the turnover swats, but that isn’t much at all.

This all comes down to Mrs. Lion being more proactive. When in the past she has been, we both had more fun.

By:
In: Edging, Mrs Lion Comments, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Orgasm denial

I am glad Lion likes super edging. I like it when he’s super horny so I guess it all works out well. The only problem is that, once he’s near the edge, it’s easy to go too far. As he said, neither of us likes ruined orgasms. Obviously, they aren’t as much fun for him as a full orgasm. There is a solution, of sorts. I can salvage the orgasm. That makes it a little more fun for Lion, but still leaves me feeling like I screwed up.

The chance of a ruined orgasm could stop me from getting him too close to the edge. It’s a fine line. I need to push my luck just enough that he thinks he might just go over without actually letting him go over. It would be helpful if he had a gauge attached somewhere that showed how close he was. I thought he had a ruined one last night. I tasted some precum, kept going and then he was panting and tensing up. He never got soft so I decided to edge him again. I’m happy to report that it wasn’t a ruined orgasm and I left Lion more frustrated than ever.

He had reported being a little horny before I edged him. I haven’t gotten the Lion weather report in a long time. He does mention how horny he is from time to time, but he used to tell me the weather was steamy or tropical. Given the fact that he thought he was only a little horny last night, I don’t know if I can trust his self-reporting. I do trust his panting and gasping for air when I’m through with him. I also note how long it takes for him to recover enough to get back on his side of the bed to watch TV. I guess it’s a gauge of how well I’ve done.

I’m not sure if he’ll get his orgasm this weekend or not. I may have to play with my food a bit longer to make sure he’s really ready for it. I doubt he’ll ever beg for an orgasm. He doesn’t want to be able to tell me when to give him one. I understand that, but sometimes I think it would be nice to know when he’s at this limit and really wants one. It doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll give him one, but it would be nice to know.

[Lion comments — I could start my weather reports again. I’m not sure I’ve been at the point where I just have to come. I suppose the time for me to beg for release is just after I have been edged and before Mrs. Lion begins again. She could ask me if I want to come. My problem is that in the past when she asked me if I answered that I did, she gave me an orgasm. The fun ended. I think that if she wants me to truly reach a limit, she will have to not let me come even if I say I want to. If this happens over and over, eventually she will see if I change in my response. As long as she gets me off if I say yes, I am not going to say it.]

By:
In: Edging

Mrs. Lion often refers to “play” in her posts. This sometimes confuses me. My BDSM background suggests that play is some sort of scene. This isn’t what Mrs. Lion means. Play can be anything sexual. It can be teasing, edging, making me come, or the range of BDSM she likes. I’m always tempted to add clarification to her posts, but I can’t because I don’t know what she has in mind.

Most of the time, play refers to playing with my penis. There you go! That fits perfectly. Sometimes it means much more. It never refers to spanking. She always explicitly calls that out. I’m not complaining. It’s fine for her to surprise me. She always writes about what she did the next day.

Now that my waits for orgasm are longer, I find myself wanting each one to have a lot of buildup. I think that’s why I asked Mrs. Lion to hold off making me ejaculate until she is able to get me to the very edge for a while. She likes to make me ejaculate. Generally, that means no more than two days pass of super edging (that’s what I call it when she gets me within a stroke or two of coming) before she goes all the way. I love it when she super edges me.

When she does my world narrows to a single, bright point. All I can think about is if she will push me over the edge and let me come. I can feel my hips move as I try to help her. I’m almost there. My breathing is fast. Then she stops. If she is super edging, it feels like a door slams. My breathing slows as I start to come down. Then she starts again; her mouth moving up and down on my cock. I’m back on the edge. She stops. This time she doesn’t let me start to come down. She continues with a few strokes. It isn’t enough to make me come, but gets me right to the edge again. She repeats this. Occasionally, she will continue until I can’t stay hard anymore. She says that’s when I’m “broken”.

It takes a while to “break” me and there is always the risk that she will push me over the edge to a ruined orgasm. We both don’t like that. I definitely like it when she super edges me over and over. I don’t want to be ungrateful. I am very happy with any play I get. For the record, I don’t get upset if she misses a day or two because our timing is off. It almost never bothers me even if she wrote that we would be having a play night. In the past, it bothered me when she would write that we would be doing something I really like and then didn’t follow through. I can’t explain why, but it isn’t upsetting now when that happens. I know Mrs. Lion wants to play. If circumstances get in the way, que sera.

By:
In: Mrs Lion Comments

The problem with emails and texts is that you can’t hear the tone. In Lion’s email yesterday, I heard a sarcastic, what-the-hell’s-the-matter-with-you tone. Of course, I don’t think Lion has ever actually used that tone with me, but that’s what I heard. On the plus side, I was able to find his contact lens when I got home. It seems to be fine after a night in the cleaning solution. He was very upset at losing it so I’m glad it was just hiding from us and not lost for good.

We took a trip to Walmart last night for Lion to get a pair of glasses for when he isn’t wearing his contacts. I always liked Walmart for my son’s glasses because they have very cheap packages and they seemed to hold up well. They even took Lion’s insurance so there was very little out of pocket. That’s a good thing in this economy and with Lion still on furlough.

Since we went after I got home from work, it was around 7 when I started dinner. Lion snoozed for a bit and it seemed like neither of us was interested in playing. At least, it seemed that way. Around 10:30, Lion said he guessed it wasn’t a sex night. I guess it could have been. I tend to let extraneous things sabotage play. Anything off the normal path of an evening and I’m thrown off. It’s not like it was that late when we got home. I need to do a better job.

I wish I could promise we’ll play tonight. I’m working from home today and tomorrow. And tomorrow is only a half-day. You’d think that would be a no-brainer. Work is less stressful from home. I don’t have a commute unless you count the twenty feet from my desk to the bed as a commute. We should be able to figure out what’s for dinner with a minimum of thought since we’re both right here. I don’t think there are any planned excursions. And yet, I can’t promise. I don’t want to promise. Promising means the potential for disappointment. Of course, not promising doesn’t eliminate disappointment. All it eliminates, really, is the “but you promised!” lament. (This really is what goes on in my mind on a daily basis.)

Here’s what I will say: It is my hope that we will play tonight. I will not raise taxes. I will attempt to raise a weenie. I approve of this message. Lioness for President 2020