Hi fellas! I know you've missed me, so I thought I'd give you an update on all the kick ass Red Pilling I've been up to. For those reading one of my posts for the first time, I'm a gay married man and my husband's name is Ron.
Okay fellas, here's the latest: I've been trying to plant sexual seeds in Ron's mind every day with innuendos and other sexy talk. For example, last Sunday we were at the farmer's market, and we walked up to a deli stand where they had all of these beautiful cured meats. So I asked the guy behind the counter to show me his entire selection and explain all the various meats to me, and every time he showed me one I said, "that's nice, but do you have anything BIGGER?" I also asked him if I could hold some of the meats, and he said yes, and as I held them I looked penetratingly into Ron's eyes and stroked the salami stick or pepperoni stick or whatever the fuck it was. It was really turning me on but Ron was being a stick in the mud and wouldn't play along. Every time I made an innuendo, he'd just roll his eyes and walk away or act like he was embarrassed to be with me.
Ron's pouting was a real buzzkill but I played it cool and held my frame, reminding myself that I'm the prize. Every now and then I'd slap his ass playfully. We had stopped at the farmer's market on our way back from the gym, and he was wearing his short jogging shorts--think vintage Richard Simmons from the 80s. Anyway, just looking at Ron's ass in those short jogging shorts was making me hard and just I couldn't keep my hands off the merchandise. But again, Ron wasn't having it. He kept swatting my hand away and telling me to stop it.
The straw the broke the camel's back was on our way out, when we stopped at a chocolate stand. The lady was giving out samples of their famous chocolate sauce. I curled up my index finger and thumb really tight, you know, to make it look like an asshole. Then I poured the little sample cup of chocolate sauce onto it and, as I slowly licked it off I said, "hey Ron, does this remind you of anything?" Well, you'd have thought I'd just insulted Ron's dead mother by the way he reacted. He stormed out of the farmer's market, walking 20 or so paces in front of me. God I loved the way his ass jiggled as he stomped his feet in anger.
When I got to the car, Ron was already sitting in the driver's seat, the engine running, with the windows rolled up. I tapped on the passenger-side window, and Ron rolled it down just a crack. "What's the matter, my love?" I asked him. (Big mistake--I know.) Ron became unglued. He started victim puking all over me about all my sexual innuendos and touching in public and how it made him feel like a piece of meat. At that point Amused Mastery seemed like the way to go, so I made a meat joke. Ron responded by putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking space, running over my foot in the process. My foot was fine but the tire made a hell of a black stain on my new white New Balance running shoes, which really pissed me off.
Anyway, long story short, Ron left my ass at the farmer's market. But it wasn't a big deal because home was just three miles away, so I figured I'd get in some cardio and jog home. When I got home, I found Ron in the kitchen tidying up. I figured I'd act like nothing had happened, so I walked up to him, grabbed him by the waist, and tried to plant one on him. Ron actually pushed me away and told me to "get the fuck away" from him.
Previously this would have brought me to tears, but I was totally stoic and held my frame (thanks Epictetus!). I decided to make myself absent, so after a shower in which I used only the finest and most luxurious bath products, I headed out to the shed in the backyard where I've been working on my new carpentry project: an assortment of hand-carved mushrooms.
After absenting myself for a couple hours, I went back into the house to check on Ron. To my surprise, he was gone, and didn't leave me a note or send me a text telling me where he was going. I immediately started to hamster, but then caught and laughed at myself for letting Ron beat me at my own game.
I decided to plan a surprise for when Ron came home, so I squeezed into my crotchless patent leather briefs, stretched a studded cock ring around my dick and balls, clamped on my nipple clamps, and started stoking off to some vintage gay porn VHS tapes. When Ron got home, he walked in on me just as it was getting to the really good part in Fists of Fury. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing?!" Ron asked me. Without skipping a beat, I continued to stroke myself, looked deeply into Ron's eyes, and said "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" "It looks like you're jacking off to the best part of Fists of Fury", Ron replied. "Damn fucking straight I am," I said. "You want in on this action or what?" Ron looked at the TV screen, then at me, then at the TV screen, then at me again. "Do I get to be the bottom?" he asked. "Of course you do," I said, "you're my little butt slut and your ass deserves a good pounding right now." And within seconds, Ron was on all fours, moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors as my lubed fist repeatedly pounded his prostate.
So you see fellas, this shit works. No matter what happens, hold your frame, and he'll come crawling back into your frame on all fours.
TL;DR: Husband wasn't responding well to my sexual innuendos and touching at first, but I held frame and had my fist buried deep in his ass by the end of the day.