Lion must be officially retired. The next step will be to move to Florida or Arizona. And then we’ll start eating dinner at 4:30. Bedtime will be 9 pm. We’ll play bingo and shuffleboard. If shuffleboard is too physical, I guess we can play dominos and canasta. He used to play bridge. I guess I can learn. We both already reminisce about the good old days and when gas cost twenty-five cents a gallon. You whippersnapper. Get off my lawn!
I’m teasing him because he needs sex earlier now. He was very happy when I told him I had the box o’fun ready. He was even happier when I said we weren’t using the box o’fun because I’d already decided to use lube during his handjob. He suggested setting up the massage table. He cautioned me against saying anything non-sexual that would detract from the fun. I’m not sure if asking if the overhead light was bothering him counted as non-sexual. I thought maybe the floor lamp would be better mood lighting and not right in his eyes.
Who knew I was rubbing his balls too hard? Or that he needed my hand to move slowly up and down at first, but it didn’t really matter how fast or slow it went later on? Apparently, Lion did. However, I distinctly remember him saying I was going too fast toward the end a whole bunch of times. I’ve paid attention to the speed since then, but I haven’t figured out how to regulate it. I catch him sneaking peeks at me when I’m focusing on something so I can try to count between strokes. I always wonder if he thinks I’m bored. I’m not. I’m thinking about what I’m doing and wondering if I need to go slower or faster, grasp harder or lighter, etc. I’m also listening to the noises he’s making. Is he purring? Is his breathing getting faster?
I don’t know if I surprised him or not when I gave him an orgasm. He spurted out a little cream filling. I told him it wasn’t fair. I can’t enjoy it if it’s mixed with lube. I guess that means he needs another orgasm soon. Poor Lion.