Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Small Circles, Middle Finger - NSFW

Well, shit.

I had a list of things to write about. Some about sex, some about "not sex". Some fairly high-falutin'. I just now got a few minutes and, as I always do right before I post in the morning, I clicked on over to my Sergei's page.

Holy damn!

My post-it note full of stuff I was gonna write about today has now been stuffed in my pocket.

As Sergei is culling together a list of husband-and-wife bloggers, AND he wrote about his style of self-love today, I thought it only fitting to give my version, the female version, the wife version, so everyone knows what happens in our Sexy House of Divine Love.

I take showers at night. Saves me time in the morning. Generally this is where I rub the bean. I find the shower, being warm and wet, the white noise of the water and no children or televisions, creates the perfect stillness I require to act out my sexual fantasies.

Oh yes, fantasies. I begin the experience with a certain fantasy lover in mind, someone whose face I can picture. I can't do strangers for some reason. Actors, singers, bloggers, that frat boy who smiled at me in the store, all are ripe for the pickin'. However, when it comes down to the end, when I really need that extra 'oomph' to get my knees shaking and my back arching, I need more than one guy.

This is pure power.

I direct them, I tell them where to stand, or sit, or lean, who goes first, how deep, how far. Who I suck, who I stroke, who gets to watch. What they say. What I say. Whose name I scream when I cum.

Once I get the shower nice and warm, and by that I mean almost hot enough to scald me, I get in and do the requirements...shampoo, wash, shave the little landing pads on either side of the pink flower. (Don't need Sergei wading through the jungle now, do we?) Once I'm completely rinsed, I prep my hands with a special lotion and get to work.

Positioning is key. Left foot on bottom of tub. Right foot perched in the northwest corner of the tub, on that little shelf thing there. The right hand gets the sweetness. The left hand gets the breast.

Sergei can make me wet by showing me his outstretched middle finger making small gentle circles. Wet because that's exactly the motion I use to begin. Small circles, middle finger, right on the button. Sometimes the downward stroke hits the top of the outer lip, very gently, at least at first. The index finger and ring finger hover above the landing pads. Left hand strokes the left breast, sometimes the right, but the left seems to work better. Kneading gently the nipple, cupping the flesh, the intensity of the right hand matching the left.

Once the hands are busy, then the mind gets to work. I picture my fantasy lover, we meet, we make a connection, we're drawn to each other. We have coffee, a meal, or nothing at all. A touch, a kiss, fingers in my hair, our clothes are peeled off. We seduce and are seduced. My hands gradually begin moving harder and deeper, my fantasy lover wanting more and more and me giving more and more. Gradually the fantasy dissolves into the multi-partner scenario, my fantasy lover and others who want me. I might whisper what I want, "Come here, I want your c0ck in my mouth", "Do you like the way I feel, do I feel good?", "Now I want you inside me."

My body tenses and arches, I have to balance my forehead on the tiles so I don't fall over, I have nothing to support myself because I'm on one foot, in a slippery bathtub, with my pelvis thrusting in figure eights and my hands making busy orbs around my pussy, my breasts, my mouth open and gasping.

I choose a lover to come inside me. I see his face, I see him thrusting his huge wet c0ck inside me. I see it like I'm him. I can see me, with men around me, their eyes closed and holding their red, swollen members above me, on me, in my mouth. When my fantasy lover comes, when I allow him to come, I come too. He lifts my ass as he comes. Body-wracking orgasms, one, two, three, depending on how long I think I can get away with it. I mouth his name, and the name of a deity or two, or just "Fuuuuck...."

Once the waves have settled a bit, I collapse against the wall, my hands holding me steady until my legs can bear the weight. I breathe in the warm spray of the shower, rinse off my face, grab the soap, and do a final washing.

Then the shower is over.

On occasion, if I go up to bed earlier than Sergei, and I'm sleepy but can't get to sleep, I'll masturbate much like in the shower, but lying down. It's more difficult because I have to contend with a sheet and a down comforter, and I don't feel right just throwing everything off me. But I miss the warmth of the water and the way it creates dripping streams of succulence on my skin. I still cum anyway.

Mastubating never takes the place of sex with Sergei. I recover quickly, and can then go on to bedroom romps of mythic proportions.

So that's what goes on in Sergei and Mona's house. Hope that wasn't too much for ya.

Hey, did I just write my first porn blog?!?!?

9 Comments:

At 12:23 PM, Blogger Sergei C. said...

Damn, honey - it's amazing that in 10 years you've never once slipped and hit your head on the tub. Maybe I'll get you one of those shower railings for your birthday . . .

 
At 3:28 PM, Blogger Orange said...

A railing's no help if your hands are occupied elsewhere.

And damn, Mona--were you spying on me this morning? Right foot, northwest corner; forehead, tile. Classic, traditional.

 
At 7:01 PM, Blogger Becka said...

Yes, I believe you just did.

And may I say thank you?

 
At 7:02 PM, Blogger Pisser said...

How do you do it standing up?! Sounds dangerous. Be careful...

"Daddy? Why is Mommy yelling, 'OH, JETHRO!!!' in the shower...?" ;)

 
At 12:48 PM, Anonymous sjr said...

Whoa! That was awesome! No wonder my wife takes really long showers!!!

 
At 2:26 PM, Blogger Orange said...

Masturbation? Oh, no no no. Bad idea. The book excerpted here gives the 1950s slant on young women and sex. Did you know that the girl who masturbates becomes academically lazy? It's true.

 
At 11:05 PM, Blogger Mona Buonanotte said...

Sounds like I'm fairly normal! Whew!

Orange! I wondered why I had low energy and a loss of sparkle! It's not because I get 4 hours of sleep a night! It's not because my thyroid is being eaten away and recking my metabolism! It's not that I'm aging and have a full-time job and two kids and a husband and a house to take care of! I'm poking open my own box waaaaay too often! A-HA!!! Thank you thank you thank you for the link!

 
At 11:10 AM, Blogger Orange said...

Glad to be of service.

 
At 4:13 PM, Blogger Rob Helpy-Chalk said...

yummy, thanks

 

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