He had been with Joan for a long time, and he was very nice. Joan had the particular merit of breaking my record of living with a man.
We almost called each other boyfriends, much to my regret. I had never liked to call a relationship, however growing it might be, an engagement.
Bride, I had already informed me, comes from “cloud”, to make your partner feel like in a cloud but when she is wearing the wedding dress veil!
So I’m not even remotely wishing for marriage.
But Joan achieved things that others didn’t, and anal sex was a recurring request.
I felt, I recognize it, more like a whim of his, like a feeling of “not enough with everything I gave him and now he wants this”.
My orgasms used to be very satisfying. He was an excellent lover, he used to take care of me wonderfully. I was always seduced by his phrase of “my greatest orgasmic pleasure is to see your own orgasm”. And I believed her. A sweet….
And so much the pitcher goes to the fountain, that my biggest fear was that it would break me like a pitcher… is that understood?
So, although I like to experiment, and everything has been satisfactory… why risk it? I thought. I love my tail and it was fine like that, virgin.
But since everything is a game of giving and receiving, mutual trust, and why not?, I ended up accepting.
The first thing I did was get an anal dilator, conical.
At home, alone, after a Big Little Lies chapter, (with some hot sex scenes) I poured myself a glass of wine and a semi-sweet chocolate bar and thought I’d play.
I put on some music, some Coldplay, and I’ll get out of here, new dildo in hand.
Girls: You know we have our times. That necessary pampering and so many times we have to demand it from them, – breaking climate assumptions that they believe to be perfect –
Then I started playing with my tits, gently, until I began to feel delicate chills in my skin that seams. My hardened nipples are asking for more. Thoughts begin to fly. The music is taking me there. The wine loosened me up enough not to resist anything. Now I feel that heavenly humidity. Warm.
My clitoris, if I had a voice I’d be saying,”I’m here, rescue me!” almost like waving his arms like a shipwrecked man, asking for a saving hand.
I grazed it, and my jaws clenched tightly together, to the sound of the first fires.
But my mission wasn’t there. The fate today was different: the famous back door was waiting for me.
I smeared a finger with a little oil in the water I bought next to the dildo, and spilled it in the small hole in the tail. It felt soft, though I recognized how the sphincter automatically closed off suspiciously.
I set out to relax, take a breath of air and eject it yoga-style and assume that this is what I wanted and nothing and nobody was forcing me. I went back to visit my red button as if to remember the beauty of the pleasure I was looking for and began to insert the dilator into my anus.
The first part was simple. I had to settle down and help myself with the other hand to open a little bit of a slap and I started putting it in. I was surprised it didn’t bother me. On the contrary, it was as if curiosity invited me to push more and more. Special lubrication in such a dry area was essential. He went into his pod like a sword. (Did you know that’s where the word vagina comes from?)
And all of a sudden something like “plop!” made me take a surprise breath of air. I stood still for a few seconds. Om and air again, lots of air to go on. I thought it depends on the toy you choose to open your eyes, your mouth and your ass! Haha….
When I felt it was, like in the tutti frutti game, enough for me! I moved on to phase two, which was the most desired: the shake. Soft and intense, changing the times to taste of the consumer. And a new world opened up before my closed eyes! While with my left hand I gave warmth and caresses to my clitoris, with the other one I went in and out achieving rales different from those known, and very rich.
I screamed so loud, they must have heard me in China. I exploded. I dropped my bowed body, like a bag of potatoes. Shot. My vagina was dripping and more excited. And I insisted a little more. I lamented the lack of Joan’s pair of hands or tongue to be able to affirm later that more would be impossible. But I had two or three incredible orgasms.
Getting the vibrator out of my tail was, let’s say, like a typical physiological need… I’m not going to delve into it because I imagine they’ll understand me. Relaxed,
I would say, because it would be the most visual explanation on the sofa in the living room, I gave a last sip of wine and, without strength, exhausted as I like to wear myself out, I was left to fry.
Joan arrived and I didn’t even wake up.
I imagine what he might have thought when he saw me like this, half-naked, with scrambled hair and an anal dilator on the side, and a “go know what you’re dreaming about” smile.
After a while I woke up to the sound of the door closing and woke up scared. A note stuck in the refrigerator with tape said,”I came looking for the notebook and I left. I’ll be back at nine.
Ah! I didn’t take the keys….
Today I enter through the service door… Joan…”