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Because of all the other fun things I’ve been doing lately, I’ve hardly had time for masturbation.
I know, this is unprecedented! I’ve quite literally never had enough sex that I could (almost) forgo masturbation! It’s awesome!
Please don’t hate me. Even with all the fabulous sex I’ve had this year and especially in the last few months, my lifetimes averages are still nun-like. But a couple more years like this and … eh. Let’s not get carried away.
Last week found me horny in a way that I haven’t been in quite some time. There was no chance of fun with my friend for days and days, but Babeland saved me. They had just sent a new toy for me to test for Jane’s Guide, so I plugged it in and settled into bed.
Plugged it in? Did you read that correctly? Yep, the toy I requested from Babeland is a plug-in vibrator. Go look, if you didn’t before. Isn’t it wonderfully retro? Doesn’t it look like what you stumbled upon (and then puzzled over) in your mom’s medicine cabinet when you were a kid?
If you recall, I have a not-so-great history with plug-in vibrators. I hated the Hitachi. It was … ah, I don’t even want to think of how horrible it was. I hoped and prayed that the Wahl would be different.
And it was. It vibed my clit so gently, so thoroughly, so lusciously that I barely even remembered I had live electricity between my legs.
Then when my friend’s voice on the phone urged me to come (what, didn’t I mention that there was phone sex involved?), the Wahl delivered the most amazing orgasm.
The orgasm was a kind I’ve never felt before. It was the kind of orgasm that knocks you down and takes your milk money. The kind that demands the top bunk and then makes you her bitch. The kind that gives you a wedgie and short-sheets your bed.
And then kisses you on the cheek, calls you her BFF and skips merrily off.
I came and came from the ministrations of the Wahl and the voice of my friend. I gushed like a geyser. I knew there was a whole buncha gushing going on, but it’s hard to tell exactly how much gushing you are doing when your vibe is tickling you so hard that you have to scream “uncle.”
And when I could come no more and gush no more, I found myself completely cream crackered. I couldn’t move. My head ached to the point that my friend thought I should consult a physician*. I had to roll off the bed and kneel on the floor for five minutes before I could assess the damage.
You know how big your typical large pizza is? About this (**holding out hands**) big? Yeah. That was the size of the gushing-puddle the Wahl coaxed from me.
Good Lord. I’m shameless! I’m gonna need some of these if I plan on orgasming with the Wahl outside of my own house!
Guess that’s what I get for not getting myself off in weeks and weeks and weeks.
*******************
*Later I googled instead of going to the doctor; apparently wicked headaches after intense orgasms are not all that uncommon.
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