Monthly Archives: May 2016

Just a little touchy touchy

 photo IMG_7399_zpsbbculq60.jpgAs you may or may not know, May is National Masturbation Month! It may be almost over, but revel in the right to revel in yourself!

I don’t remember when I first orgasmed. I have been masturbating to orgasm as long as I can remember. I am not even sure when I learned what that amazing feeling was called. I graduated from humping pillows and stuffed animals to my showerhead sometime in grade school. High school brought the introduction of textured make up brush handles and then onto real sex toys. It was something I did several times a week. It felt good, relieved stress. I never really connected it with the sort of sexual experience I would have with a guy. I know that sounds odd, but it was just something I did. Like reading a book or painting. At that time, SEX was very much about boys. I was raised in a Catholic school where sex education was abstinence and fear based. Female sexual education revolved entirely around anatomy. If it didn’t involve a penis, it wasn’t sexual. I ignored the bit about masturbation being a sin. I wasn’t a very good Catholic…
As I have grown up, masturbation is still very much about my own sexual health. It really isn’t about being horny with no outlet. At this point in my life, I have lots of outlets if I need one! It still feels separate from those feelings. I don’t watch porn to masturbate. I really don’t even fantasize that often. I just focus on the sensations. I don’t do it nearly as often as I used to, likely because I met this boy at 16 that also had the power to make me cum. But it is something I rely on when I am feeling tense, or cranky, or to help with cramps, or just get a moment to focus on myself. It remains a part of my self care toolkit in more ways than one.
And it is still very much an internal thing. It wasn’t until recently that I masturbated in front of Dr. R. I was surprised, but I had a hard time sharing that with him. Not that it was secretive, but that it felt odd to have help. Like having someone help you brush your teeth. Masturbation is perfunctory. Necessary but it is just about getting the job done. The orgasms I have from masturbating aren’t nearly as strong as the ones he can give me. If he’s around, why would I do it? If I just wanted to get off, he is much better at it. It is about something different, I suppose. My need to own my own orgasm sometimes.

So, go forth. Wank when you want. Explore yourself. Find your buttons. Celebrate yourself and this amazing national holiday for a short while!

Gotta put a towel down…

 photo image_zpsriqcknlc.jpegI normally use a toy several times before I write a review. So lets not call this a review. More of a “holy hell, I need to record this for posterity” post. A more thorough review to follow…

Dr. R gave me the Eleven just before leaving on a business trip. We had one more night to enjoy each other before what was to be nearly a month and a half of constant travel. I have to admit, when I opened the package and stared at its eleven inches of medical grade steel, I was a tad nervous. But I trusted Dr. R., so, downstairs we went. After watching porn and a bit of warm up with my Cush and his luscious mouth, he pulled out the new toy. I braced myself for the size of it, expecting it to stretch me wide, but the steel is so smooth is just glided right in. It was COLD. Almost too cold, but the shock internally was mitigated by his warm mouth externally. His tongue circled my clit. He sucked and grated his teeth on my labia. Then he took a few trepidcious thrusts to see how much of the toy I could handle. I instantly clenched around it. The head was so large against my g-spot, yet somehow pointed. It was giving my the best of both worlds, wide and direct stimulation. My eyes shot open and I just stared down at the top of his head. He continued to thrust, moving faster and harder. The pressure was so intense. It almost hurt but in a blindingly delicious way. He edged me closer and closer and then would pull back and rock the toy right and left. Just massaging my g-spot. Building up pressure again and again. Finally he grabbed my Mystic Wand and held it to my clit while he quickly switched to shallow, rough thrusts. I came so loud I nearly scared myself. I clamped down on the Eleven so hard I swear I bruised. He just kept going, moaning and smiling, clearly pleased with himself. More and more, faster and faster, until I came again (or maybe I hadn’t really stopped…) in quick succession.

Amazingly, I was not done. Usually after something like that I need a moment to find my life again, but this time he just returned to stroking my g-spot. Side to side. Back and forth. Close to the edge, and back down again. Over and over. I was ravenous. I was bleary eyed. I needed to cum again. He decided to move onto the Eroscillator and resumed the quick, intense thrusts. I only lasted about 45 seconds. I came with another wrecking orgasm. Breath caught in screams deep in my throat. And I felt myself soak the smooth metal, drenching it and everything around me.

I am not a squirter. It is just not a talent I normally possess. I do ejaculate, however. It is not a gushing puddle, but more of a clear change in substance, viscosity, opacity. But that night, I gushed. I could feel it pour around the Eleven. Dr. R commented about how amazing it was to watch the Eleven just be enveloped and coated in me, to see it run down the sides, to revel in the mess he’d made of me. And I still wanted more. If I felt like I would have been able to reciprocate after another orgasm like that, I would have kept going all night. But I am pretty sure I would have passed out and left my amazingly giving lover high and dry. And we just can’t have that. Not after what he had just done to me.

I can’t wait until he returns and we get to play again. I am anxious to see what else this thing can do!