Okay, this is for all the straight and bi guys out there… (BiLikeMe) A fellow blog some of you may be familiar with has asked a rhetorical (I’m sure) question about why women seem to find it necessary to punish their men by either a. withholding sex, or b. giving them the silent treatment, or c. both.
I know none of you Ladies out there would do this…you’re more concerned about the better dynamic of a full, happy, and satisfying relationship without all the game-playing. And what I’m about to say won’t be news to you at all. But, let me offer apologies in advance to any of you who may find my words offensive. Because the flip side is that you shouldn’t feel obligated either to get your guy off.
I suffered this type of punishment during my first marriage until I figured out it was my own fault! That’s right, you read that correctly; it was my own fault. I propagated the idea in her head that I needed her. I needed her primarily to relieve my raging hard-on, to ease my aching balls. And the only avenue to that relief was to ensure her happiness at all costs – a lot of the time to my own detriment. It took me about 7 years to realize I was sabotaging myself.
That was when I began to react to her silence, her glare, and her cold shoulder between the sheets by…not reacting. I smiled and remained my chipper self. She didn’t want to fuck? Fine. No problem. I had hands – I’d use them, just like I did when I was a horny 16-year-old kid trying to tame my perpetually hard pecker before I managed to charm my way into her panties a year later. I started to jack off in plain sight – right there in the bed next to her! I stroked and pounded my pud and blew my load all over. I didn’t care at all if the sheets, pillows, or headboard got splattered. Then I’d sigh with relief, roll over and go to sleep.
Of course, she told me what I was doing was “disgusting.” And, I’ll admit, it bothered me at first. Then, I realized I couldn’t expect any other reaction from a girl who’d grown up in a household with only one male (her father). Plus, it was in a time when jacking off was still mainly a furtive activity. Even those night-time boners and wet dreams weren’t understood for the physiological necessity they are.
What I accomplished through taking my stiff dick into my own hands was to prove to myself, and ultimately her, that I didn’t need her. I was perfectly capable of relieving my man-berries all by myself; I was, in fact, more than capable, I was better at it than she ever thought to be. Though you couldn’t blame a lack of trying, because I sure as hell tried to teach her how to coddle my cock and nuzzle my nuts with the proper amounts of care and wild abandon.
I’m ecstatic that wife #2 is well aware of my talents when it comes to cock. It’s made it possible for us to never, ever attempt such foolishness. We treat each other with the respect we both deserve. There’s no withholding of sex, no long, icy silences, because while we do enjoy one another, we are both well aware that we don’t need each other for anything; we can both be quite self-sufficient. Yes, that means I know she’s quite skilled in her own right; she doesn’t need my fingers, or my tongue, or my cock.
So, gentlemen, in order to drag yourselves out of the hole you’ve dug, grab your dick. Stroke that hard-on for all you’re worth, lovingly, with the skill you know you’ve mastered since you started polishing your knob as a kid. Blast that geyser of gooey hot jizz. Let her know you’re doing it; if she’s aware of how satisfying your explosions can be, that you indeed do not need her, maybe – just maybe – she’ll realize she’s only punishing herself.
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