I’ve always envied the men on this site whose wives or girlfriends level of kinkiness matched their own. You know, women who look at their man and get excited at the thought of buckling a collar around his neck, spanking him or locking his cock in a cage. And then they do it! When I read about those lucky men’s experiences my heart aches. Why can’t I have a kinky wife? I’ve struggled to be satisfied with much less from my lovely wife of forty-two years. The latest expression of my kinkiness emerged about eight years ago when I bought my first cage. Like so many of us I stumbled around trying to explain its attraction to me. Finally, reluctantly, she agreed to indulge the most recent expression of my unfathomable inner life. Gamely, she played with my locked cock. She teased me, when she thought of it but not nearly enough to satisfy my needs. I appreciated her efforts but I wasn’t getting what I wanted. Gradually, over years, my needs have changed. I lie in bed hoping her wandering hand will find my caged cock and give it some attention. Not tonight? Okay, maybe tomorrow… Can I kiss your breast? No? Okay, maybe tomorrow. My hope springs eternal and I have come to appreciate my sexual tension and longing as a virtue in itself. Sunday morning her hand drifted down to my cage and gently stroked my flesh squeezing past the bars. “Can I kiss your breast?” I asked hopefully. “Yes”, she murmured. Her breasts are very sensitive and in no time we were both writhing with pleasure. I reached down and gave her an orgasm. “I can unlock the cage,” I offered with a gasp. We have a key on the night table. “Yes, do it.” I pulled the cage off but my hard cock required the ring to stay on. She rolled on top of me and rubbed the tip of my cock against her clitoris. It had been months since my last orgasm and I came in no time at all. She came together with me. We lay like that, locked in each other’s arms forever. Finally, nature called and I got up to pee. As long as I was in the bathroom I took a quick shower. Naked, I returned to the bedroom. The titanium cage dangled from her pinky. “Put the cage on, sweetie.” Ah, life is good.
I'm happy for you. Sounds like you both really needed that. I think unfortunately with the Internet sexual evolution happens regardless. Especially as we become more desensitized to seeing images and videos that we eventually mentally relate to pleasure. And then we need more and more eventually from soft porn to hard, eventually you stumble across something that you wouldnt have ever thought you'd ever be interested in like bdsm or tranny porn or BBC etc (sorry for using terms that could be offensive I don't know any other terms that would get the point across). And eventually as your porn addiction grows and evolves before you know it your watching extreme bdsm and no relate pleasure with the idea of pain for example. It's a shame really. All this porn addiction takes away from the true beauty of our spouses, since we are used to seeing the perfect bodies lusting after one another on a screen in front of us. But eventually I feel all sexuality evolves into something more. It's just expedited by the porn industry.
My Mistress loves everything about holding my key. She loves telling me I'm not allowed out until this coming March .( Dec 14 as I write ) . We have met other guys for 3 some sex, but my role is to suck dick, get fucked , use a step on to fuck our male partner , and clean my Mistress up after he cums . We are both members of Fet Life .com ,and advertise we are looking for men to join us here in Calgary Alberts Canada.
I would love to meet a couple like you for a play date and wish my wife would be more like yours in allowing others into or lifestyle.
The first light of a winter morning crept past the curtain. Naked, I lay in bed and idly stroked the short stubble of shaved pubic hair that surrounded my caged cock. It showed signs of life as I pressed a finger between the bars to caress myself as best I could. My wife stirred and pulled her flannel pajama top up, complaining about having to sleep next to “The Furnace” (that’s me). Her breasts were exposed. Seeing an opportunity, I reached over and gently touched a nipple. Sometimes when I do this she pushes my hand away, annoyed, but this time she moved appreciatively. More stroking and then I moved my hand to her mound and gave her a small, soft orgasm. Her attention shifted to me. She raked my butt with her nails. Did she draw blood? She cupped my balls and ran her fingers across the same stubble I felt earlier. My cock, free of any obligation to be erect, strained against the cage. After a few minutes the energy shifted. Her touch slowed, my hip thrusting subsided and it was over. There was never a word spoken about using the key that was in arm’s reach. Her breathing slowed and she slept, my arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.