I got annoyed yesterday. Mostly it was the dog jumping around like an idiot, not leaving me alone. Part of it was probably Lion too. Part of it was me. I always try to plan out what I’ll do on the weekend and I never get half of it done. This weekend was supposed to be the fence but we know what happened there. I could have picked myself up and dusted myself off and gotten started on the next item on the agenda, but it’s easier to sit around licking my wounds.

I never did get the laundry done. We made chicken soup. I had to hang out and help Lion. It’s not like I couldn’t have thrown the laundry in during that time. I reasoned it was only 2:30. I had time. We watched the football game. Amazingly, our team won – in overtime. I was sure they are going to lose on a last second field goal like the had the past few weeks. After the game I realized the clock in the kitchen had stopped. So much for 2:30.

The garbage needed to go out. Ideally, I would have done that before it started raining, but where’s the fun in that. I can’t got out the front door without the idiot dog following me so I had to lock her in the bedroom. You’d think I’m killing her by leaving her inside. She yowls and screams bloody murder. Lion had to sit with her just to keep her calm.

By the time I was done making and cleaning up from dinner and cleaning up from making the soup, it was late. By late I mean it was after 8:30. I took a shower and Lion was snoozing. Secretly, I was relieved. I didn’t really want to do anything sexual. Around 11, I remembered the laundry I had done last weekend was still in the dryer. I hit the wrinkle refresh setting and managed to get some clean clothes ready for this week. Maybe I’ll get around to doing the other load tonight. Ha!

There’s always next weekend.

Based on her post yesterday, Mrs. Lion is very aware of how long she makes me wait to ejaculate. She casually said that it’s only six more days until my birthday. No big deal. Not for her. For me, it will be 22 dry days. That’s twice as long as my average. She’s sure I will remain horny because, after 1,266 days, I will have vaginal sex again. That is a huge amount of time between fucks for anyone.

That’s not as bad as it sounds. Over the last six months, all of my sex has been in Mrs. Lion’s mouth. I love that. It’s my favorite orifice. I wasn’t incredibly happy with handjobs. It’s the least personal form of sex. Sure, it’s fun, but let’s face it, it requires the least involvement of the woman. It’s the most portable form of sex. A woman can jerk a man off nearly anywhere. Unzip, tug, and you’re done. For a long time, Mrs. Lion’s hand produced almost every orgasm.

Our sexual history has always been a little unusual. The first few times we had sex, it was anal. Over the years, vaginal sex was in the minority when it came to what we did. I’m not sure why, but it was. As Mrs. Lion lost interest in getting off, my releases moved to her hands or mine. Most of the time, I jerked off when alone. Every few weeks, she would do it for me. She wasn’t aware that I was doing it myself. When she learned I was, she made the first rule that I was not allowed to jerk off.

I never really understood why that is so important to her. It saved her work. It wasn’t much fun for me. I did it just to release tension. The last time was 2,836 days ago when she made me do it while she watched. I don’t miss it. Even though I’m very horny, I’m not tempted to end the draught. If I feel a strong temptation, I will ask to be locked into one of my male chastity devices. Those devices trained me not to masturbate.

Mrs. Lion kept me in a male chastity device 24/7 for over three years. I was only released when she wanted to jerk me off or let me clean thoroughly. My hands were never allowed near my penis. The training worked. No matter how upset I am that she won’t make me ejaculate, I don’t think about taking matters into my own hand.

Women don’t think this is a big deal. Many have never masturbated. I started when I was 11 years old. I’ve been shaving less time than I’d been jerking off. So yes, it is a big deal to guys. It’s also a big deal to have to wait “just” six more days. That’s a very long time for a horny lion. [Mrs. Lion — I did say I wasn’t the one waiting. I know (think) he’s at the stage where a stiff breeze will make a stiff weenie so I’m sure each day feels like an eternity. He just has to focus on his birthday present of vaginal sex at the end of his almost-longest wait.]

It will probably come as no surprise to you that I decided not to punish Lion for the fence misunderstanding. I still say the last fence I wanted to do would have been okay, but it was not without its problems, even if the landlord was not one of them. We wound up buying a six-foot-high kennel that she can be in at least while she’s in heat, if not every time she’s outside on her own.

I did, however, think I was going to punish him for the coffee pot. As of 7:30 this morning, it had still not been set up. By the time I went to make coffee, it was done. The sneaky Lion had gone in and rescued his buns. I’m considering changing the rule. He’s been able to save his butt too many times because I allow him to do it in the morning as long as it’s done before I start breakfast. I thought I was being nice, but he’s using that loophole too much. I think his days are numbered.

I’m still debating whether I should give Lion an orgasm before his birthday. Of course, every day I delay means I can’t do it. I guess I’ve actually already made up my mind by not giving him one yet. It’s not really a big deal, she says, not being the one who’s been waiting over two weeks. It’s “only” six more days. What’s the big deal? Lion has waited longer. After a certain point, he stops being as horny as he was earlier in the wait. I think he’ll stay horny this time. He’s looking forward to vaginal sex.

The only reason I can think of for not giving him more vaginal sex is that he always insists I enjoy it. I do like feeling him inside me, but I don’t care if I come or not. My goal is to make him enjoy it. I like feeling him come inside me too. If he just let me “do” him and not worry about me, he might get more vaginal sex. Hint, hint. [Lion — Hint taken!]

The clock is ticking. Every day that goes by makes it less likely I will get to ejaculate before my birthday in a week. As of Saturday, when I am writing this, it’s been 15 days. My average wait over the last five months happens to be 15 days. None of the waits was exactly that length. The range was between 7 and 23. Mrs. Lion plans to give me a birthday fuck. If she does, it will be the first vaginal sex in over three years.

Some people who play with orgasm control celebrate Locktober. The idea is that the penis stays locked in a chastity device the entire month. Last year we decided to do the opposite, and Mrs. Lion gave me three orgasms. I know, whoopee. Anyway, fall seems to bring out a desire to find reasons to withhold sex. Some celebrate NOvember. This means no orgasms in November. From what I can learn, NOvember is more for women than men.

These ideas offer some excitement for people who have trouble creating their own. Several blogs like to suggest “themes” or “prompts” that other bloggers use to stimulate ideas for posts. I resist these artificial idea generators, and I don’t read or list blogs that follow them. I figure that if a writer can’t come up with something original, maybe the best idea is to wait until something creative surfaces on its own.

We have dry days here. I don’t pretend I can come up with scintillating topics every day. But write posts based on a letter of the alphabet? Puleeze! My point is that a blog is very much like an old-fashioned column in a newspaper. Some are daily, and others are published less often. To get read, the columnist has to engage his readers. We’ve established our voices. Sometimes I wonder if it pays to write a post when nothing is going on here. Other times, I like the opportunity to sound off. Today is one of those days.

I’m appealing to my fellow bloggers to disregard the “prompts” they find and instead write something original. My prompt for you is “Be Original.”