Belated Bday with The Bunny

So yeah, The Bunny’s bday celebration with me…let me try to remember the details.

Well, first of all, I snagged a last-minute modelling shift I couldn’t afford to pass up, so I wasn’t able to accompany The Bunny to his photoshoot thing, after all.  I also wasn’t able to bring many sexual accoutrements with me since I headed straight to his place from work and my knapsack of modelling stuff is already overstuffed.

I arrived at about 5pm.  As usual, there was a bit of an awkward settling-in period…The Bunny and I lounged around on his bed talking and then some comment I made triggered a need in him to show me a particular episode of South Park.  Then – I can’t remember how, but it’s a safe guess The Bunny casually caressed a bit of my exposed skin and I immediately melted and needed to grant him more access – I ended up naked.  He probably did, too, but I don’t specifically recall.

Caresses led to cunnilingus.  I like the way The Bunny goes down on me, although I can’t orgasm from it (yet?).  When he gets into a good groove – a method and motion that seems like it could get me off – he can’t maintain it long enough.  Also I think my masturbatory habits have made my junk resistant to other kinds of stimulation, and/or my whole wonky sex drive issue messes things up…I dunno.  At any rate, The Bunny got me turned on enough that I asked him to retrieve the Hitachi, intending to have him bring me to the edge that way and then take over again with his mouth.  But it quickly became obvious to me that the intense, slightly numbing stimulation of the Hitachi would render me almost unable to feel The Bunny’s mouth afterward so I abandoned the idea of “tagging him in.”

Usually, by the way, I’m the one wielding the Hitachi when The Bunny and I are together.  I have a specific way I like it done and in the past, The Bunny kept straying from my instructions and I just took over rather than having to constantly correct him (it’s ridiculous, really, because my instructions are just “here’s the spot I like stimulated.  Press the Hitachi there with medium pressure and wiggle it back and forth” – it’s not difficult).  But this time I decided I wanted to lie back and be attended to without having to do any “work” (aside from my habitual straining and bucking, which actually left my entire lower body crazy sore the next day).  

So I coached The Bunny through getting me off once, giving me a little break to recharge, then getting me off again.  The first time, my reaction to coming was uncontrollable laughter.  The second time, The Bunny took it upon himself to relentlessly mash the Hitachi against me as I came, which extended my climax in an intense and almost painful way.  When I’ve gotten myself off, I’ve always instinctively backed off from stimulation a little bit as I began to come, sensing that going harder – or even continuing the same way I had been – would probably be too much for me to handle.  I still don’t think I’d want to inflict that on myself.  But when The Bunny (or, before him, The Pedant) does it, it’s kind of interesting.  I always think the stimulation will “short me out” and curtail the orgasm but instead it’s like I break through to the other side…I dunno, it’s hard to explain.  But the experience left me on the verge of tears (not upset tears, just my-body-is-overwhelmed tears…the exact same feeling manifests itself as laughter at other times) and feeling completely vulnerable.

As I lay there, sniffling and shuddering and waiting for The Bunny’s ceiling to come back into focus, The Bunny came up (he’d been kneeling next to my hip) and kissed me and then just kind of stayed there, looking into my eyes.  Being there for me so I wasn’t going through this vulnerability all alone.  And suddenly my weepy feelings pendulumed in the other direction and became a giggle fit.  “There it is,” The Bunny said, grinning at me.

When I’d mostly recovered myself, I started thinking about what I’d like to do to The Bunny.  He pointed out that it was 8:30 already and there was still dinner to be cooked for me – he was totally willing to skip his own gratification in order to feed me. 🙂  I thought about it and ultimately decided that Bunnygasms took priority.  I could feed myself once I got home, but I wouldn’t be able to play with a real live cock.  So yeah.

I had The Bunny frog-tie his own legs and then I went hunting for his Njoy Pure Wand because I wanted to do things to his ass.  I couldn’t find his wand or his lube, and when I asked where they were he pretended he didn’t know.  “Oh well,” I said.  “I guess if I can’t find those, I’ll have to bring out the 24-pack of clothespins I brought with me, instead…”

“Beside me!  Beside me!” The Bunny said in mock panic, and indeed I did find both wand and lube half-buried in a laundry basket next to the bed.

Wanding The Bunny’s ass is incredibly fascinating to me (so much so that I’ve since bought a Pure Wand of my own so we’ll have one on hand no matter where sexytimes are had).  

I slid the lubed toy slowly inside him to the spot he’d enjoyed most the last time (halfway in, so at least four inches, which doesn’t make sense to me because his prostate is only two or three inches in…).  As I began to thrust it in and out, he moaned and his hand moved to his cock, but I slapped it away – I wanted to see where things would go if he wasn’t getting the usual kind of stimulation he’d need in order to come.

…Then a few minutes later I changed my mind and started jerking him off myself, synching each stroke and thrust.  The Bunny soon started squirming and straining and making the most delightful sounds, and – this was so very intriguing to me – I started feeling a steady rivulet of liquid flowing over the fingers of the hand that was jerking him off, even though he wasn’t orgasming per se.  The Bunny is normally the type who steadily leaks pre-cum during sexual activity, but not nearly that much.

It seemed like things were getting really good for him, but then he told me to stop and withdraw.  I did, and saw that there was a pretty substantial puddle of thick white goo on his belly.  And yet his sounds hadn’t made the kind of crescendo I associate with climaxing.  “…What happened there?”  I asked.

The Bunny said that things had been feeling really good, and then he felt a growing urge to pee.  “I’m pretty sure that’s actually a sign of an impending prostate orgasm,” I interjected, “I think it works kinda like when women squirt.”  The Bunny said he thought the same thing, and made the conscious decision to let go and if it turned out to be pee then oh well.  But it…misfired, or something.  He got a bunch of pulsations but not an orgasm.

Oh, man.  Witnessing all of this was just miraculous…like watching an adorable baby deer get up on its trembling, rubbery legs and learn to walk, only MINDBENDINGLY HOT.  I would imagine that if we keep at it, I’ll refine my wanding technique and The Bunny will learn how to process the stimulation I’m giving him and let go of any inhibitions he might be having, and then…KAPOW.  Perhaps he’ll even be capable of prostate orgasms without any penile contact at all, which is kind of my holy grail of wank fodder.

Anyway, The Bunny then started jerking off to try to pursue that missed orgasm.  I petted and kissed him and surreptitiously kept my hand on the Hitachi; when he came, I switched the Hitachi on full blast and mashed it against the head of his cock while he screamed and thrashed and tried to get away.  Because turnabout is fair play, and also because being overstimulated through and after an orgasm is a thing The Bunny has specifically expressed interest in.  I’d tried once before, actually, to nice effect.

And it gave him a laughing fit.  Just like the post-orgasmic laughter I get.  I’ve never seen that happen to a guy before.  I pinched his cheek and said “Awww, does you have a case of da gigglez?” and he just cackled even harder.

Eventually, he checked the time: still only 9:30.  I was working early the next morning, but decided that I could still get enough sleep to function if I left The Bunny’s place by 11pm.  Which meant there would be time for food. 🙂

He made me a BBQ chicken breast with rice noodles (because I can’t have gluten) and a homemade cheese sauce (thickened with corn starch instead of wheat flour).  Goddamn, I love it when someone cooks me food personalized to my needs and tastes.  Yum yum yum.  Dessert was a little cup of berry pie filling set aside during his last baking spree (before he added flour to thicken it), heated up in a little ramekin and served with vanilla ice cream on top.  And he gave me a second helping to take home with me.  And he had a couple of bottles of juice (expensive juice; the all-fruit smoothie type things that are like $6/jug) that he sent me home with, too.

I left The Bunny’s apartment with a sated sex drive, a full belly and a knapsack laden with goodies, feeling thoroughly cared for.  Consummate gentleman that he is, The Bunny walked me to my transit stop; along the way we had that discussion I recapped in more detail in a previous post, where basically I reiterated that I love him and he expressed that he’s okay with that (but is apparently not prepared to say it back).

To be honest, at that moment it didn’t matter that he didn’t say it back.  I was too full of delicious warm berry pie filling to care.

Good birthday. 🙂

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