Today will be day seven of my denial. That is not so much, to many. And, honestly, it is becoming “not so much” to me, as well. To put things in context, for me, though, here are a few points. (Yes, I started a calendar to keep track of this, as I find it very interesting)
I have been denied for sixteen of the nineteen days of July. Normally, I would have had multiple orgasms each and every one of those days.
I have had twelve orgasms this month. Of course, nine of those we on the marathon day.
By my calculations, based on the typical, average number of orgasms that I would have had (three per day on Sunday through Thursday and four per day on Friday and Saturday…this is from masturbation and sex), I have been denied fifty-five orgasms this month and ninety-six orgasms since we started this play again, thirty-two days ago.
Except for the marathon day, I have not masturbated, or even self pleasured, in 19 days. This one is huge!
Again, this only day seven. Having gone from daily orgasms to orgasm(s) on three days, out of 19, is a significant change. Interestingly enough, and to be expected, I think about sex much more than I did before. There has been an interesting evolution, though.
For one, I don’t very often think about masturbating. It is something that I did all the time. I drew so much stress relief and pleasure from it. I was free to stroke as often as I liked, each time resulting in glorious orgasm. Yet, now, it rarely crosses my mind. And, obviously, the orgasms are few and far between.
Emerging with this, however, is a new view of sex. Our sessions, that once meant pleasuring to orgasm, for both of us (multiple orgasms for NW), are no longer viewed as such. That is not to say that I don’t view it as a time for pleasure. I most certainly do. And as much pleasure as I give to NW, it is no more than I did before, since her pleasure was always my priority. Although, I do know that her pleasure is increased by the orgasm control…both in the enjoyment of the control and her enjoyment in seeing my heightened pleasure.
What has changed, though, is that I no longer seem to see sex as a source, or vehicle, for reaching orgasm. I fully expect not to orgasm, when we have sex. I go into it devoid of that expectation of orgasm. Sex has become about NW’s pleasure (orgasms included), just like it always has. For me, though, it has become a time when my arousal, physically and mentally, will be carried to the very edge, but never released. The edge has become the ultimate goal, with respect to my pleasure, not the orgasm. In fact, despite the obvious want that is welled up, I am mentally averse to the idea of release.
Is this a passing fancy? Perhaps… For the time being, however, it is very real and very completely encompassing. And, honestly, it is both very thrilling and very frightening.