Breathtaking Eros

Whew, I’m back in my home state for the holidays. I had a pretty nice Christmas, and with my holiday money I might purchase myself some ben wa balls and nipple jewelry. I’m pretty excited for that!

Speaking of nipple jewelry, I wore my dress (!) when the boatload of people came out for Christmas dinner, and it was a bit clingy to the breasts and my oddly-shaped nipples were visible at times. I battled with kleenex to conceal it (as I can’t wear a bra with it, and my sticky nipple covers aren’t with me and they aren’t subtle either) but I don’t know how successful I was. So, either my relatives think that I have six nipples, that I have them pierced, or maybe they were all too ignorant to notice anything at all. I’m hoping desperately for the latter.

One good thing about being home… is the shower head. An extra-fun tool for masturbation. It’s got like, six different types of sprays on it. The hard single stream is the one that works for me, haha. Call me a she-devil, but a few years ago I bought it for my mom for Christmas, knowing full well I wanted to use it for myself. Well, our old shower head was just a normal one and was super old, anyway. Two birds, one stone, right? This was before I was old enough to buy a vibrator, but I took what I could get. I don’t remember my first attempt with it, but apparently it was successful eventually.

I always felt (feel) guilty about the water waste, though, plus it was awkward since usually my showers were quick. It takes a good half hour or more to get off with it. So as time went on, I hardly used the shower head. Of course, the orgasms are great. Even so, months would go by. And then it came for me to go off to college and I never had my “one last time” with the thing! Oh, tragic. Thanksgiving came and I came back home, but I never had the opportunity to do it then, either. Drat!

But no, now I’m home for a month, and I’ve taken advantage of it. Mmm, it’s nice. I forgot how nice it was, really. Unfortunately this morning it took me fourty-five minutes… but it’s okay, right? A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

I plant myself on the floor of the shower, click it once to the left, and have at it. As with the other methods, this one also must be handled differently. I don’t/can’t fantasize - it’s distracting. I don’t close my eyes, either. I don’t really think, but I do kegels and stare off into space. Yeah, basically I go into a trance. Complete with, er, drooling. That’s right. It’s so stunning that I drool on myself. I know I’m getting close to cumming when I see blue sparks in the water, or when I start to not be able to see the water at all, and when the sound of the water starts to get really loud. Okay, that sounds really weird. Maybe it really is like a trance, haha. And then I start to not be able to breathe, or rather it feels best to just hold my breath, and my legs get all twitchy (which is typically distracting in any other situation) and my body freezes and then.. wooooshhhh aaaaaahhhh orgasm. It’s like an avalanche of goodness. And then I get up, sway a little, clean up the wetness, and tenderly dry myself off and go on with my day.

Which I must go do, now.

P.S. Ninja comes home in just one week…!

I had the place to myself last night, so I thought I’d try out my newest vibrator and my much-neglected dildo, both at once. They’re locked away in my large trunk, and further hidden in a plastic box, and even more out of sight stuffed inside a pillowcase. Basically, it’s a pain to get out and prepare, so my sex toys don’t get much use. They never have; hands are so much easier. Using a vibrator takes technique and patience and more concentration, and, actually willpower. I’ll break it down:

Technique: The two I’ve got have adjustable speeds. I have to start off slow, and build it up. I have to press down really hard on my clit and get the right spot until the potency is lost, and either jack up the speed or find another pleasure place. Either route means different work on my part. If I don’t do it right, I just don’t cum.

Patience: I need to adjust and build up my tolerance in order to get to the right speed for climax. If I go on high too early on, I get desensitized and end up at that dreadful plateau where my vibrator is as high as it can get, and I just can’t push over. With my two hands, somehow I can, if I really want to, get an orgasm in under a minute.

Concentration: Beyond visualizing and finding good spots to work on, I have to pay attention to the position of the tip. My new one has nubblies on it, and the other size has ridges. I need to pay attention to what’s where. And pressing down so hard, being in la-la-land causes me to slowly move the tip out of place, so I have to move it back up to get the best sensations. And, of course, I need to be intuitive to myself as to when I should up the speed, or move, or do both. and breaking out of fantasizing to change the speed, well, that means an extra few seconds where I have to get back into the swing of things in my head.

Willpower: Yeah. Sometimes, it’s sort of like I’m afraid to get to that point of climax. Because with a vibe, it’s like an avalanche. Building up to it is somewhat uneventful, and when I get to that moment just before the orgasm, it is SO intense that sometimes I shy away from it. Or, more infuriatingly, I accidentally move, and lose it. Pain in the ass, or what?!

I worked up the energy to get out the supplies, give good ol’ Stanley (uh, my dildo, haha) a washing (it had dust on it, inevitably; it’s silicone) and get down to business. I’m pretty tight as it’s been a while, and not all that lubed up (fuck foreplay, I will prevail) but I get it in easily enough, work my muscles to keep him secure, turn on that ugly pink thing that is my new nubbly vibrator, and touch it to my skin. I move around, more aroused, and enjoying the sensation of letting the vibrations go through the silicone. Nice, I can take this. ‘Cause, this dildo has been a waste of money. I get nothing from it. It gave me low expectations for actual PIV sex, because I never felt anything remotely exciting. But, anyway, I’m getting at least a minimal amount of enjoyment from this.

I hear people running down the hallway. Come on, it’s midnight. Quiet hours! Makes me paranoid. But I continue. Up the speed, take in a big sigh, spread my legs more, get comfortable.

I hear the click-woosh of the door opening, and I shoot up, shut my legs, fumble with my vibrator to turn it off, and wait. Rummaging around is heard. Must be Nice Roommate, back from New Hampshire already? Damn it. My vibrator is way too loud for me to use when anyone is present. Damn it.

So I angrily shove my vibrator in my pillowcase. I decide to revert to manual mode, and leave in Stanley. But by that time, I’m just tired, and annoyed. Whatever mood I was starting to give myself has disappated. So I free myself, and just go to sleep.

This morning, I wake up to an empty apartment. Ugh! So some bastard came into my apartment at will, and then they left. Someone came in here uninvited, AND they interrupted an experimental masturbation session.

Thanks a lot.