I awoke before the sun was up. Rolling over, I saw that Dan's eyes were

open and he was just staring at the ceiling.

"Something on your mind?" I inquired.

"Yes", he responded. "Is this really necessary? I feel humiliated."

"Well, that is certainly part of the plan." I firmly stated. "How do you

think I feel with your going around jerking off behind my back? This is

going to be tough on both of us, but it has to be done. You are going to

change your behavior once and for all."

I then got out of bed and, as my new role as nurse therapist required,

went over to Dan's side of the bed.

"Do you have to urinate this morning?" I asked.

A terse "Yes," was all Dan could muster.

"Then go now!" I commanded.

After a short period, the sound of liquid flowing into the night bag

could be heard. Upon completion of this, I instructed Dan to stay in bed

while I emptied the bag. Clamping the hose, I unhooked the bag and took

note of Dan's output. About 23 ounces, which was pretty normal for a guy

his age. Something then caught my eye. Suspended in the pale yellow

fluid was the unmistakable milky thread of semen. Dan must have had a

wet dream.

"Did we have an accident?" I coolly inquired. "There's semen in this

specimen."

Dan blushed and looked away. Finally, he blurted out, "I didn't mean to

do it. Sometime, during the night, I awoke just as I had started coming.

I couldn't even touch myself with this thing on. You had me pretty

juiced up last night."

"Well Dan, we're going to keep records of these events. I expect that

this will not be the last occurrence them. So get used to it," I replied

as clinically as I could.

I then pulled the blanket back, exposing Dan's semi naked body. The

urinal fitted him well. Noticing that Dan's penis was, for once,

comfortably flaccid I removed the drain hose from the sheath and screwed

on the end cap.

"You may go and take a shower now." I commanded. "You have 10 minutes. I

will then show you how to don and wear your fresh appliance."

In less than the time allotted, Dan was out drying himself off.

Commanding silence from him, I pealed off the wet jock, allowed him to

finish drying himself, and showed him how to put the fresh one on.

Again, he complained that the sheath cuff was too tight around his

penis. Again, I told him that it was for his own benefit. I then showed

him how to attach the leg bag and drainage hose and how to pull up his

briefs so that the hose snaked down his left leg to the receptacle. Once

he had his shirt on, he pulled up his pants thus covering the apparatus.

Just as advertised, I thought. The gear was completely undetectable

under his clothing. Giving Dan the end cap, I told him that he could

remove the leg bag to work out, but the jock was to stay on until he got

home. He could shower here. I then bid Dan goodbye and went into the

bathroom to take my shower.

Noticing that all the gear used in Dan's initiation the previous night

was still out, I washed out the douche bag and left it on the towel hook

to dry. No sense putting it away anymore, because it was going to be

used frequently from now on, I thought. I hand washed Dan's urinal in

the sink then the two collection bags and left them out to dry as well.

Quickly finishing my preparations for the day, I left for work.

The day was hectic with many patients in to have their pre-winter flu

shots. Fortunately, the activity kept my mind from drifting to the work

left to be done at home. At the close of business, I went to the gym for

a much needed workout. It too was busy and I had to wait for a number of

machines. As I was wrapping up, my eye caught the sight of Dan coming

out of the locker room. Stepping off the treadmill, I walked over to him

and asked how his day was going. He seemed less agitated then this

morning and told me that he was getting used to things. Anticipating my

next question, he pulled the waistband of his workout shorts out a

little bit to show me that he still had the urinal on. Looking at his

tightly sheathed penis I silently nodded my approval. I allowed him a

quick kiss, told him that I would have dinner ready when he got home,

and left.

The preparation for a light dinner went quickly. My mind kept going

through the points written in the chapter on chronic masturbation. Much

like drug misuse, chronic masturbation is a habitual behavior, a

dependency. Aversion therapy was described as using various techniques,

ranging from restraints to various smells to electrical stimulation, in

order to alter behavior. In its basic form, the therapy made undesired

behavior unpleasant and desired behavior a rewarding experience. The

goals of treatment were to address the fixated need for frequent

masturbation and its associated gratification and to provide the

foundation for a "traditional" relationship with a partner. Essentially,

punishing solo gratification and rewarding the experience learned with a

partner. "Forced" masturbation using negative stimuli was used in the

most pronounced of cases. Each case required individual evaluation and

the treatment protocols, while specific to the patient, consisted of

alternating negative reinforcement with positive rewards. Of note was

the point made that the frequency of negative stimuli needed to be

inversely proportionately high to the rewarding reinforcement early in

the treatment. As the therapy continued, the proportions would reverse

so that as the behavior improved, the rewards would become more frequent.

My mind quickly snapped back to the present as I heard the door to Dan's

car close. As his usual routine, he walked into his office to check his

mail and voice messages. Walking in, I noticed that he was already

looking through his email and quickly typing out replies. After a

moment, I inquired if he was ready to eat. Nodding in the affirmative,

we walked silently back to the dining room. There wasn't much said

during dinner. It was still somewhat awkward to conduct idle chat. After

the meal was quickly consumed, Dan mentioned that he had more office

work to do and would be awhile. Not to worry, so did I. After putting

away the dishes, I went back to the living room to read.

An hour or two passed when Dan suddenly appeared and informed me that he

was going to shower and go to bed. I followed him up to the bedroom and

got a fresh urinal out for him. He stripped off his clothes and

following my orders, kept his appliance on. While I was pleased to see

that he had gotten the hang of managing his leg bag, I couldn't help but

to notice that he had the makings of a weak, yet pronounced, erection. I

sat on the bed and waited while he showered. I'm sure that a number of

thoughts crossed his mind when he saw the douche bag hanging at the

ready. He followed the drill, stepping out, drying and taking the old

jock off. As he was finishing up, I saw him gently rub his penis a

couple of times.

"Easy there big boy," I interrupted.

He quickly drew his hand away. In an attempt to please me, he stepped

into the leg straps of the fresh urinal and pulled the sheath up and

over his penis all by himself. Then carrying the night bag over to the

bedside, he connected the drainage hose and slid into bed.

"I'm impressed."

"I'm trying to do what you want." He replied meekly. "I know that I have

no choice, but to follow orders."

"Thanks. You'll be glad that you did." was my quick response.

I went downstairs to have an evening cigarette. Walking by Dan's office,

I noticed that his computer was still on. Going over to shut it off, I

played a hunch. Calling up his web browser, I looked at the history.

Sure enough, not one hour ago, he was reading something else in the

Speculumpages. I didn't even bother to look at what story he was

engrossed in. Unlike last time, I shut the computer off so he would know

that I had touched it. Frustrated, I went out to the patio to think and

have my smoke.

Sitting under the stars I nervously puffed away. Was now the time for

the next step in the therapy training? What the fuck, I concluded, it's

now or never. I stubbed out the cigarette and moved swiftly to the

bedroom.

Noticing that Danny was dozing, I purposely made a noise to wake him up.

As he rolled in my direction, I began to slowly remove my clothes. Down

to bra and panties, I made a point to slowly unhook my bra. Once my

breasts were freed, I rubbed underneath them where the bra's underwires

had been. Moving upward, I gave my nipples a good pull and they stood up

at my touch. All the while, I was under Danny's gaze. Naked, I moved to

the bed, opened my nightstand, and pulled out old reliable – my

vibrator. Stretching out on top of the bed, I opened the tube of KY that

I kept handy, put a dollop of lubrication on the head of the vibrator,

and slowly pushed it into my vagina. Positioning myself so that I was

comfortable, I "accidentally" rolled close to Dan.

"Oh, did I disturb you?" I said in the most innocent of voices.

"What the hell are you doing?" was the only response that Dan could come

up with.

Leaning back and spreading my legs I turned the power pack on. "Oh just

some final exercise for the day. You don't mind if I masturbate, do

you?" I made sure to emphasize the word masturbate.

Dan was speechless as I began to work. Rubbing the vibrator around my

sex, I made sure that the bud was stroking my clit. It didn't take long

for my breathing to become a little ragged. I needed to pace myself.

"Do you really think that this is fair?" Dan demanded.

"What's good for the gander is good for the goose," I retorted. "What's

the matter? Are you feeling left out?"

I pulled the blankets back with my free hand, uncovering Dan. The show

was obviously making an impact as Dan's cock was now at full attention,

sticking straight up while straining the confides of the latex sheath.

The outline of the head of his penis was clearly visible, the plump

glans pushing at the end of the sheath, serving to turn me on all that

much more. It was clear that he was building up a head of steam. The

sheath pulsed up and down with his heartbeat, with such strength that it

was moving the drainage hose back and forth. It was as if his cock had a

life of its own.

I continued to manipulate the vibrator. Occasionally, I would score a

direct hit on my clitoris, causing the tell tale ripple that signals

that an orgasm is near. Pace yourself I thought.

"Danny," I panted. "Care to join me? Let me see you stroke that cock."

Not needing much encouragement, Danny reached down and gasped his penis

in the sheath. Attempting to stroke it in the rubber, he was thwarted by

its confides and the chaffing. All he could do is move the sheath a half

inch or so across his dick. Not nearly enough to give him the

gratification he so desired.

"You bitch!" he spat.

"Here, let me help you." I forcefully grabbed his shaft and gave it a

quick three strokes.

"Ow! Shit that hurts!" Danny cried as he pushed my hand away.

Repeating the action I grabbed on and pumped a few more times as far as

the restrictive latex would allow.

"Leave it alone!" he pleaded as he pushed my hand away again.

I rolled back and started thrusting the vibrator in and out of my

vagina. Each insertion made an audible "squish" as my juices streamed

onto the bed. Breathing hard, I knew that this was going to be one of my

better climaxes. I gave Dan a quick glance and saw him futilely trying

rub his cock. The sight took me over the edge. With a long deep moan and

my hips lifting off of the bed, I gave the vibrator a final push. In a

flash, my vagina spasmed, both tenting and contracting. My labia,

engorged to twice their normal size, fluttered around the shaft. The G

orgasm crested and broke, as fluid squirted out of my urethra. Panting,

trying hard to catch my breath, I fumbled for the power pack and shut

the toy off.

I had to admit, that while I could occasionally achieve a G spot orgasm,

I never was able to have a number of them in the same week. For that

matter, I hadn't had this frequency of orgasms since we were first

married. My thoughts returned to Dan. I looked over to find an

unbelievably frustrated and furious husband. His erect cock was still

pulsing. It's a good thing that the urinal was collecting all of his

precome.

"Dan," I began. "Whether you believe this or not, this is for your own

good – and mine. This training will restore our intimacy. Once

completed, you will be the stud that I married. Believe me; I would

rather have your hot cock in my pussy than this vibrator any day. Now

dear husband, we have to finish your therapy session." With that, I

again grabbed his throbbing penis. He cried out as I gave it three quick

strokes. After about a minute rest, I again grabbed the sheath.

"Please, leave it alone," Dan pleaded. His eyes were wide and fearful.

His body tense.

"I need to continue this until you loose this erection," was my harsh

reply.

Over the next ten minutes I alternately stroked and released his cock.

Each time, I allowed more time to rest. During the stroking cycle I

could feel the precome being pumped into the drainage hose. The

treatment was difficult. Dan's cries became more pleading as his penis

became more tender. Finally, it began to lose it rigidity, the sheath

slowly collapsing on Dan's leg.

Nothing more was said as I got up and pulled the blankets over Dan. I

went to the bathroom, washed up, and left a fresh appliance out for him

to wear in the morning. While rolling into bed, I was greeted by the

sound of liquid draining into the night bag. "He's getting it."' I

thought, as I stretched out and fell asleep.

The next morning, Dan was awake before I was. I felt him roll out of

bed, and through semi closed eyes watched him dutifully clamp his

drainage hose, and prepare to take the night bag to the bathroom.

"Not so fast," I called out, stopping him in his tracks. "Let me see the

specimen."

He brought the bag to my side of the bed and I sat up to examine it.

Twenty seven ounces seemed about right. Leaning closer, I saw, suspended

in the fluid, remnants of a nocturnal discharge. Another wet dream!

Danny anticipated my inquiry.

"Yes," he stammered. "I had another wet dream. I can't help it. Just

like last night I awoke just as I was coming. I couldn't stop it. The

last time I had anything like this was when I was in high school. And, I

have to tell you, that after your therapy session last night, it hurt

like hell."

"Well, at least you weren't jerking off," was my casual response. "I

don't know if this is an issue or not. I will certainly note this in my

records. Go take your shower."

Dan was trying hard to get in line. He followed my instructions to a T,

showering, putting a new urinal and leg bag on, and dressing. I decided

to give him this night off. No therapy.

We soon got into a routine, an evening of treatment followed by an

evening off. Each treatment lasted between ten and fifteen minutes. Dan

even confided that there were other benefits to wearing his appliance –

he could pee while he was driving to a work site and during his golf

matches. Although his appliance remained a secret, his golfing buddies

even noted at how long "he could hold it", without going to the

bathroom. For me, I found our therapy sessions highly arousing. While I

didn't accompany him in masturbating during each session, I did get into

a pattern by getting off a few times a week. Once a week we coupled a

hot enema with the therapy session. I took note that Dan's arousal and

erection were somewhat stronger during these sessions.

For awhile, Dan was still having an occasional wet dream. Before we

moved on to the positive reinforcement phase of his training, I wanted

to get this under control. I discovered a solution quite by accident.

Due to my previous purchases, I was obviously placed on a mailing list

specifically targeted for treating incontinence. We were receiving a

number of catalogues listing everything from moisture resistant sheets

to catheters. In one such catalogue, there was a section for drainage

bags, urinals, and replacement sheaths.

Much to my surprise (and delight), they had a smaller sheath (about

three inches long) that, presumably, was made for juvenile patients.

While it would not hold any fluid on its own without external drainage,

it was just the right size to hold a flaccid adult penis. I immediately

ordered three of them. Introduced to Dan as his "night sheath", the

small size prevented him from getting an erection without waking up in

discomfort. On nights that we were not having therapy, he would

immediately snap on the small sheath. On therapy nights, we would

perform his exercises in the normal sheath and then replace it with the

smaller one once his erection subsided. It took a number of nights for

Dan to get accustomed to this and he told me that initially he would

wake up two or three times with a growing erection that couldn't go

anywhere. Through practice he was able to relax, allow his erection to

go away, and fall back asleep. His nocturnal emissions were now stopped.

In the course of a few weeks, the sessions were having a noticeable

result. Dan didn't want to be masturbated either by me or by his own

hand. Although he was horny as hell, he knew that he wasn't going to

achieve gratification by trying to jerk off.

During a couple of sessions, when I was masturbating with him, he

pleaded with me to make love. I told him that he was going to have to

earn that privilege.

Positive Reinforcement[/b]

The evening was still, quiet, and relaxing. Tonight was not a therapy

night, so I took advantage of having a leisurely cigarette. To my

surprise, Dan appeared wearing nothing but his bathrobe. While he was

sitting down at the patio table, I noticed that he obediently had his

appliance and leg bag on. Our backyard is very secluded so, I guess that

Dan wasn't worried about anyone seeing the gear.

"Where is this all going?" Dan began. "I mean, with all this therapy?"

Taking another drag from my cigarette, I coolly responded, "Well, you

are part way into a multi phased program, sweetie. The first phase, as

we discussed, was to address your chronic masturbation."

"And the second phase?" he interrupted.

"Well, the second phase is coupled with the first phase." I vaguely

replied. "Once we get your masturbation behavior under control, we begin

to work on your premature ejaculation."

Even in the dusk, I could tell that Dan blushed at this remark. He was

obviously uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Aren't I making progress?" he asked "As you know, I haven't come in

more than a week. Even at night."

"Yes, you are making progress," I agreed. "But you need to be

reconditioned with new stimuli." I then decided to take the next step in

our journey. Figuring that this was going to be a long conversation, I

lit another cigarette.

"Tell me about Speculumpages."

Dan's response was predictable. At first he stammered. Then, like a

little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he denied knowledge

of the web site. Finally, like a dam bursting, he let everything out.

Claiming that he was searching the web to find out more about premature

ejaculation, he stumbled across this amazing site. At first, he couldn't

believe all the stories. Descriptive stories about unspoken subjects

ranging from feminine hygiene to bizarre medical procedures. He knew

that most, if not all, were works of fiction, but they were so graphic

that he couldn't help but to read a number of them. And they aroused him

to such a state that he had to relieve himself. His curiosity created a

compelling urge to return to the site again and again.

"What about ‘Helen Shows Me How?'" I asked.

Dan was downright startled that I knew about this story. He first

demanded to know how I knew about it. Refusing to tell him, I asked him

what was so compelling about this piece. He began by telling me that the

story was about a man having the same ejaculatory problems as him. His

girlfriend reacted much as the same way that I had, complete

frustration. Unlike me (until recently), she decided to teach him a

lesson.

I interrupted, "So you find the thought of having someone give you anal

sex exciting?"

Dan sat speechless for a number of minutes, or so it seemed. I am sure

that if there was enough light, I would see that his face was a crimson

red from embarrassment.

Lowering his head, he could only mumble that he "Guessed so, but only

from you."

On a hunch, I told Dan to open his bathrobe. As I had expected, he had a

pronounced erection that was visible within the grip of the latex

sheath. His cock was straining to burst out, pulling the drainage hose

and leg bag away from Dan's body.

Deciding that his honesty should be rewarded, I broke the awkward

silence by announcing, "Ok. Let's go upstairs to begin phase two."

Upon entering the bedroom, I had Dan lay down on top of the bed covers.

Next the leg bag was unsnapped from his calf. His penis was still

pulsing rhythmically to his heart beat. Opening my nightstand I removed

the tube of KY and then detached the drain hose from his sheath.

Carefully, I squeezed a generous amount of lubrication into the rubber

while kneading it around his penis. Finally, I attached the night bag

hose to the sheath. Stopping for a moment, I explained the drill. Just

like the "stop/start" technique that we unsuccessfully tried a few

months ago, I was going to slowly stroke him. He should think about the

feelings of the sheath. How nice and tight and slick it was, just like

my vagina. He was to tell me how close he was by a scale 1 -10. At 9-10

he was at the point of no return. Turning the clock on the nightstand to

face us, I stated that the goal was for him to hold off for 5 – 10

minutes. Anything less and he will be subjected to more frequent

masturbation therapy. Achieving the goal would allow him more frequent

ejaculation training. Was he ready? With his nod we began.

Slowly I tightened my grip on his cock. Even through the hot latex, I

could feel his pulse. Methodically I began to stroke and knead his sex.

Although the sheath was still tight and constricting, the added

lubrication was having its effect. Within a minute, he was gasping "8".

Letting his penis go, the sheath rocked back and forth on the jock

strap. After a short period, the short stroking resumed. Soon, "5" then

"6". I slowed my handwork. Dan was trying hard. He remembered to adjust

his breathing as he became close. "8". I again released him and looked

at the clock. Three and a half minutes. Not good enough. I took him

again and began the short strokes. The head of his penis flared at the

end of the sheath. As Dan's arousal grew, I slowed my pace. "Much

better", I thought. Reaching down with my free hand I rubbed his

testicles through the fabric of the jock's pouch. Swollen and hard, they

were damp from perspiration. "8" "8" Dan, gasped. The elapsed time was

just a shade over six minutes.

"Come on Danny, hold it. Work on it." I snapped.

Dan was sucking air in labored breaths. Sweat was beading up on his

chest and face. Torso jerking, he was straining to hold back the

inevitable discharge. "Oh Christ", he cried as his penis started to

spasm. I could feel and see his semen spurt against the end of the

sheath. Four, five, six contractions, all incredibly strong, came in

quick succession. At each ejaculation his penis would seem to swell, the

glans stretching the end of the sheath, almost as if his penis was

spitting the come out of it. Dan fell back on the bed, his chest

heaving. Remarkably, his cock didn't lose its hardness all at once,

instead over a period of a couple minutes it slowly deflated inside the

sheath, losing its rigidity with each pulse. The next morning, I was

amazed to see the amount of semen that was collected in the night bag.

The sessions continued over the subsequent weeks with masturbation

aversion training being interspersed with ejaculation therapy. Sometimes

Danny's progress would regress, where he would accidentally climax

within the 5 minute period, after which we would double his masturbation

therapy sessions. But generally, he made good progress going six to

eight minutes without ejaculating. There were two occasions that he

exceeded the ten minute goal. He was rewarded for this by having two

days off before resuming the forced masturbation therapy. The holidays

arrived and, like most, we were busy with friends and family. Perhaps in

a perverse way, it amused me that no one at the parties and dinners

could tell that Dan was wearing his appliance. To his credit, we kept to

the training regimen.

Early in December, we had a particularly good session. With much work

and pacing, Dan was able to hold off for just over fifteen minutes. I

was pleased and I told him so. Kissing him, I whispered that if he was

able to achieve this milestone again at the next session, there would be

a "big reward" for him. And if he was able to consistently last longer

than twelve minutes, there might be an even "bigger reward" later. He

and I both knew what the bigger reward was – our first intercourse in

three months.

The next day, I had the house to myself. Having set the prize, I now had

to follow through on my preparations. Smiling to myself, I went online

to a number of electronic shops. I was taken aback at the number and

variety of items that was the focus of my search. After a good hour, I

found it. Pulling out my credit card, the order was placed.

As the week went by, we followed our routine. Two sessions of

masturbation therapy were on tap. As painful and frustrating as they

were, we both knew that they served to reinforce the positive behavior

that Dan was mastering. We were both looking forward to our third

session that would focus on ejaculatory control. The day before, I

returned home from work to find a delivery package. Tearing it open, I

was delighted with its contents. If things worked out in the next day,

the significant next step would be taken in our relationship.

Dan arrived home at the usual hour. With an unusual sense of urgency, we

finished our dinner. There was a tension between us, a certain

anticipation. Dan volunteered to go up take a shower and get ready for

me early. Looking up from cleaning the kitchen, I silently nodded in

approval. As has been my usual habit, I pulled on a coat and stepped

outside in the cool air to have a smoke. In reflecting over the past few

months, I came to the realization that not only had Dan changed, but so

did I. I was now more assertive in our relationship.

Although we hadn't had intercourse in a long, long while, my libido was

at an all time high. I was horny more days than not. Any shyness that I

had in front of Dan was long gone. I actually was turned on by our

therapy sessions and I enjoyed masturbating in front of him. Thinking

about the control that I had over Danny's body, I was satisfied with our

progress. I stubbed out my cigarette and went upstairs to the bedroom.

Danny was already lying on the bed with just his fresh jock on. Knowing

that this was an ejaculation session, he didn't connect his drainage

hose yet. His penis, in the amber sheath, lay softly on his body.

Deciding to give him some positive stimulus, I pulled off my blouse and

dropped my slacks and panties. I hadn't douched yet this week so I am

sure that he caught a whiff of my sex. His penis stirred from the sight

and smell. Snuggling up to him, I took the tube of KY and squirted a

good amount into his sheath. After screwing the hose on, I reached for

the clock and turned it toward us.

"Well, baby, are you ready to begin?" I whispered.

"Yes," was the single reply.

"Remember our goal, babe. Make me proud of you." I urged as I began to

rhythmically message his shaft. Up and down, back and forth, we could

hear the sound of the lubricant squish around his swollen glans. To add

to the experience, I offered him one of my breasts on which he began to

suckle. As his penis began that familiar throbbing, I softened my grip

and slowed my stroke. Soon, he released my nipple and gasped, "6". There

were only seven minutes elapsed on the clock. "Come on, you can do

better. Control that dick," I coached.

Resuming the methodical stroking I reached down and fondled his balls in

the jock. Firm and heavy, they were engorged with his seed. "8" Sue,

"8"! I let go of the shaft, letting it pulse freely. That was close.

Only ten minutes had gone by. Like motivating a long distance runner,

words of encouragement were made. "Come on Danny, you can do it. You're

almost there. You're in control, not your cock. I'm proud of you."

Back and forth, slowing then increasing the tempo, we worked together to

manage the growing eruption in his groin. Dan sweating profusely, was

panting hard. "7" then "5", back to "7", he was riding the crests and

troughs of his excitement. His swollen penis stretched the sheath to its

limits. At fourteen minutes, I implored, "Come on Danny, you're almost

home. Hold that cum for a few more seconds!"

Sucking air into his lungs like sprinter, he fought the uncontrollable

spasms that were beginning in his body. "9!" he cried as his penis

started its familiar pulsing and pumped out its backed-up load. I

released my grip and watched in amazement, as his cock spat shot after

shot of cum into his sheath. One unanticipated result of this therapy

was the number of his contractions during ejaculation had increased from

an average of five to about ten. It was an impressive performance.

Looking at the clock I noted that he had exceeded his fifteen minute

goal by thirty one seconds.

After allowing a little time for his penis to start to soften, I rolled

close to Dan and gave him a passionate kiss. He responded in kind.

"Nice job, lover," I whispered. "You will be rewarded."

"Thanks, hon." he replied weakly.

Since he had had such a large ejaculation and there was no concern about

a wet dream, we elected not to change over to the night sheath. Dan was

toweled off, covered and allowed to drift off into sleep. For me, sleep

remained an elusive state. Thinking about the next step kept me awake

for hours, both from a feeling of excitement and apprehension.

Our day began as any other. He showed me his evening specimen. While

there was a considerable amount semen suspended in it, we were sure that

it was the result of the therapy session. Shower, change, dress, and off

to work. The day went quickly for both of us. I was surprised to get a

call from Dan that afternoon. Although we had agreed to schedule the

therapy sessions to every other day, Dan wanted to know if it was

possible to follow-up with one tonight. I asked him if he was

anticipating getting his first reward. He admitted that he was. Fine, he

deserved it. We agreed to adjust our schedule.

At the close of the day, I left work on time for a change and remembered

that I needed to stop at the drug store. A quick sprint down the isle,

grab the box of lubricated condoms, hit the cashier, and back on the

road. No doubt the lady at the cash register thought that my haste was

out of embarrassment. Time was needed to get ready before Dan got home.

A quick glance at the clock told me that there was about 45 minutes to

spare. Rushing upstairs, I started the water running in the bathroom

sink, placed the condoms on our nightstand, and grabbed the package that

had been hidden from Dan. The syringe was quickly filled and the nozzle

slid effortlessly into my slick vagina. The much needed soothing and

cleansing water felt wonderful as it flowed in and out. Once finished, I

quickly cleaned the douche bag and put it away. My attention was next

focused on setting up my secret purchase.

The sound of a door closing announced that Dan was home. Quickly picking

up in the bathroom, I hurried to put the package out of site on my side

of the bed. My pants were barely on before Dan stepped in.

"What's going on?" was the innocent question.

"Oh, nothing," I meekly replied. "Hey, how about we go out and get a

quick bite to eat."

He thought that it was a splendid idea, as long as it didn't take too

long. For me, I needed to go somewhere and have a glass of wine to

steady my nerves. We went to an Italian restaurant not far from the

house. Two glasses of wine and a light pesto salad later, we were back

home.

With great anticipation, Dan asked if we could go upstairs. Taking his

hand, I led the way. Once in the bedroom, I removed Dan's clothing.

Within his urinal, there were already signs of an erection forming.

Instructing him that he was to follow my commands, I lead him to the

bathroom and ran the water for his enema. As the amber bag filled, he

instinctively got down on his hands and knees. Once ready, the nozzle

was inserted home and the hot water began to flow. Reaching down, I

unsnapped his leg bag, pushing it forward to allow the swollen sheath to

spring free. A quick rub of the end confirmed that he was leaking

copious amounts of precum. We had to stop twice to allow the cramps to

pass before the bag was emptied. While he expelled in private, I went to

the bedroom, stripped off my clothing, grabbed the secret package, and

got ready.

It seemed like forever for him to finish and join me.

Opening the door, Dan's first sight was of me lying on the bed. "Oh my

God!"

"Are you ready?" I teased as I stroked the shaft of my new strap on

dildo.

Dan was beside himself. His penis began to noticeably pulse in the

sheath. Walking over, he admired the leather of the harness, the way

that the leg straps, much like his jock, framed my ass. He couldn't

believe how lifelike the shaft was. Although smaller in diameter than a

real penis, it had a small head, just like the real thing. Grabbing the

controller, I showed him how there were two vibrators, one in the shaft

and one for me in the base. Leaving the base humming, I rolled to my

side and asked Dan to suck my "cock". Dropping his leg bag he knelt and

took the shaft in his mouth. The pressure of his mouth moved the

vibrating base over my clit causing intense ripples of pleasure to rise

from my crotch. I reached over and found his sheath. His cock was hard,

perhaps harder than I ever felt it before. The flared glans was pushed

to the end of the sheath. I could feel his pulse through the latex.

Needing to hold off my orgasm, I rolled back and pointed to the condoms.

He obediently took one and slowly rolled it down my shaft. Then,

climbing on the bed, he allowed me to position him so that he was on his

knees with his butt in the air. Moving behind him, I could not help but

to admire how beautiful his ass was framed by the straps of the jock. I

reached down and moved his leg bag forward so that I wouldn't

accidentally kneel on it. As before, his sheath was taut, pointing at

the bed by his swollen hard on.

"Ready?" was the single word inquiry.

"Yes," was the whispered response.

Leaning over, I grabbed the tube of KY and smeared a good amount of

lubrication in his crack. The remaining jelly was liberally wiped onto

my "cock". Slowly moving forward, I eased the head into his rectum.

Slowly, carefully, I worked the first inch in as Dan lost his virginity.

He was breathing hard, grunting and making other strange noises as

another inch entered his body. Leaning forward now, with my breasts with

their hard nipples resting on his back, I arched my hips out to put a

third inch into him. This put added pressure on the humming base that

continued to rub my labia and clit. A low moan escaped from my panting

mouth. I could feel my vagina leaking out its sticky fluid. We now

waited in this obscene embrace, waiting for him to get used to the

"cock" impaling his backside.

Once his breathing slowed down, I reached out and turned on the second

vibrator located in the dildo shaft. Danny arose with a shot, much like

an animal that had been startled. I tightly held on to him as he lurched

forward moaning and crying out at the same time. Regaining some of his

composure, he rocked back on his knees as I began a gentle rhythmic

thrusting. Slowly pumping his ass, in and out, I reached down to check

on his cock in the urinal. It was harder than I ever had felt it.

Leaking a continuous flow of precome, the shaft was so extended, that

the glans was crowded against the end of the sheath causing the whole

urinal to pull away from Dan's body. I rubbed the slick head through the

latex a couple of times as Dan cried out in approval. Picking up my

pace, I started really to bang his ass with force. My orgasm was a hair

trigger away. I could feel my engorged labia slapping against the dildo

base with each thrust.

"Are you close Danny?" I gasped.

"Yes. 8," he cried.

That was all that I needed. I increased the speed and the depth of my

thrusts. My thighs were making loud slapping noises against Danny's

buttocks, while my wildly swinging breasts were whacking his back. I

grabbed the waistband of his urinal for leverage. Unbelievably, in

tandem, we both came. He gushed and gushed his hot semen into the now

familiar rubber sheath, while my vagina spasmed, and squirted within the

dildo harness. Both of us fell forward from the force and from the

exhaustion, the dildo being pulled from Dan's rectum with a loud "pop".

I fell to his side fumbling to turn off the vibrators. Breathing hard, I

could only mumble, "That was unbelievable".

After a bit of a rest, I unhooked the straps of the dildo and removed

the condom. After switching Dan's drainage hose to the night bag, I took

the dildo and leg receptacle into the bathroom to clean. The amount of

semen washed from the bag was quite notable. Pulling on my nightshirt, I

crawled into bed and snuggled against my husband. Few words were said,

but a tender embrace was shared. I promised that I would do Danny anally

again in the future for "special rewards".