Sometimes I’m Fucking Insatiable

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When it comes to my orgasms, it’s feast or famine. Either I have almost no interest and don’t need them or I’m insatiable, a greedy babygirl who wants more, more, MORE!

Today has been an insatiable kind of day.

It began with a pre-dawn fuck. In a move that surprised John Brownstone, I shrugged off the orgasm he tried to give me. The light, soft touches on my vulva felt better than any deep throbbing I could have felt in my clit. My mind said, “What fucking time is it?!” and my body said, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuckme, fuckmefuckmefuckme!”

To his surprise, with no orgasm, I was wet and ready for him, and he slid in with ease. It was good. Better than good. The morning didn’t seem quite as annoying by the time he’d come, groaning into his pillow.

But later…later is when it really began.

I couldn’t go on my morning walk thanks to rainstorms, and I told myself I should take a quick shower, get to work, and take advantage of the early start. Instead, I sat on the couch scrolling through Tumblr, hoping for something fun and dirty. I found a bit of degradation BDSM porn. Not great but pretty good.

It was enough. My cunt ached, and my clit pulsed.

Now I could take a shower. The other day I’d regretted not bringing my glass dildo into the shower with me. I was determined not to make that mistake twice.

Standing under the hot water, I ran the dildo under the stream to take the chill off. For good measure, I licked and sucked it like a lollipop. Then I slid it over my tongue to the back of my throat, enjoying the moment when I gagged and my eyes teared up.

I bent over, knees bent, thighs spread, and eased the dildo deep. My cunt practically sucked it in. It was nice, but I’ve never been a penetration-only kind of woman. Plus, it wasn’t quite thick enough to make me feel full and stretched.

As I worked the textured glass in and out of my body, I pressed a finger against my clit. Cream had already softened my skin, allowing skin to glide effortlessly against swollen skin. The first orgasm clenched around the dildo. The second one nearly pushed it out of my body. But on the third (oh, the third time always is the charm, isn’t it?), I sprayed myself with liquid pleasure, filling my head and coating my legs.

I did it again and again, only because I could. Pulling the dildo from my body, I marveled at how cloudy it was, covered in my orgasms. An empty cunt is an unhappy one, but I had to shower.

“Shower now, masturbate later.” It was a promise to myself.

I think I remembered to wash my hair and body. I hope? Yes, I did. I definitely did…maybe?

Once I was clean, I shoved two fingers deep against my vulva, hoping my clit was still creamy and swollen. Considering the shudder that ran up my legs and through my torso, the answer (if you’re curious) was yes, yes it was.

Fingers? Shower head? Fingers? Shower head?

Definitely shower head.

Just like last time, I kept it on the usual setting and massaged my clit, lips spread wider, thighs trembling. It felt like a tease…it was a tease. Switching over to the good setting, the steady jet of water, I hammered my clitoris mercilessly, demanding my mind take what my body craved. One. Two. A third orgasm and I nearly dropped the shower head.

I trembled from head to toe, exhausted from my own masturbatory efforts. But I wasn’t done.

Have I ever dried off so quickly? Brushed my teeth that fast? Swiped deodorant on with quite as much urgency? Not recently.

Once done, I grabbed the necessities: come towel, Queen Bee, Pink B.O.B., and the glass dildo. With hair still kind of drippy, I pounced on the bed, ready to ease the ache in the center of my body.

The left hand fucked my cunt with the glass dildo and the right held on to the pink wand massager. I was almost too sensitive, unable to let the vibrations get close to my clit. Almost, but not quite.

Muscles clenched. Bones rattled. Cunt spasmed.

Until it was too much.

Then I picked up the Queen Bee. It wasn’t fully charged so it did little more than massage my vulva, but it was a really nice massage. I used the time to catch my breath before picking up the other vibrator again. By now, I’d pulled the dildo out, dropping it onto the towel. It rested against my ass as I ruthlessly pressed the toy into my clitoral hood, gritting my teeth as fluid poured from my body, almost without pause.

Finally, I threw the vibrator to the side and lay on the bed, body heaving, desperate for air and rest. I could almost keep going, and I was tempted to call John Brownstone in from his shop.

I later learned that I may have stopped too late. When I went to the bathroom, my vulva burned. I’d masturbated myself raw.

Welcome to Masturbation Monday, and for once, I celebrated in style! If you want to see how others are treating this, the best of all days, you know where to go!