Orgasms 30-36 and an evil 37th

blogasm 500 orgasm sex blog project

This past week

I’ve had 7 orgasms since the last Blogasm 500 update, according to my notes. I’m not great at remembering to keep the notes, I must say. But I haven’t had enough time or energy for as many orgasms as I’d like, really. Not as much toy testing going on in the past week as previously – but plenty of shopping, working, typing and other life kinda stuff. 6 orgasms have been through my sex toys, whether my new Jopen Key Charms vibrator that I will soon review, the LELO Mia 2 or my bedside faves the Doxy Wand and the iGino One. I needed to blog one from last night in detail though, as it was just… perfection. Involving Himself, of course.

Monday night

We’d just fucked, intensely, passionately. He still wanted more.

“Get your vibrator.”

I knew the one he meant, the big, wand vibrator which I always worried would be heard in the middle of the night by others in the house. Probably not, as I pressed it to my clit and smooshed my thighs around it tightly against my vulva under the covers. There’s just that bit of doubt though, what if. What if it can be heard and everyone knows what I’m doing. That I’m riding that rising wave of thrills and sensation to a brain shattering orgasm.

I plugged in the vibrator and shook out the lead, too impatient to straighten it properly. In the dark room barely lit by the background TV I could just about see what I was doing. He waited for me, intoxicated by the thorough pounding he’d just delivered to me moments before.

doxy_wand

Slipping the wand vibe beneath the sheets, I shifted to be closer to him for reassurance and snuggles as I pressed the side button. The vibrator roared into life between my legs, causing me to emit the usual small yelp as I attempted to adjust to the sudden, quite violent stimulation to my most sensitive area.

He likes playing with me while I’m masturbating to orgasm next to him. With him watching me in the dim light, the shadows dancing up the walls from our movements, the fact he’d just fucked me making the stimulation all the more intense and almost unbearable. The sadist in him likes that. But he doesn’t stop there.

First my nipples are attacked by him – nipples on display, breasts pushed together and upwards as I manoeuver the wand vibrator between my thighs as I lay on my back, my legs moving from spread to closing tightly around the vibe. He turns on his side to face me, one arm propping him up, the other using his flat palm over my nipples, one then the other. Gently moving over the surface of my skin, giving that frustrating, unbearable, arousing, orgasmic stimulation to my nipples. Just before I wrench myself away from him, trying my best to concentrate on my orgasm building and internal hidden fantasies while he taunts my body with his hand, he changes to squeeze them instead, one then the other. Sitting up more now, to use both hands on them, mauling them and pinching them tightly to make the nerve endings send a juddering connecting all the way through my body, connecting with my clit underneath the battering of the wand vibe.

He can see the confusion in me, my body – writhing to get away from him but not wanting him to stop. The vibe buzzes on, and I spread my legs far apart, wishing for a third person to hold them apart, but in fear of the spreader bar in case I want to clamp my thighs together again. Spontaneous fuckery doesn’t allow for prep. He changes again.

Moving away from my breasts, he gives me some peace – on that score, at least. His hand moves up now, gently covering my mouth, then over my nose too, and as he senses the crest of a stimulation wave due to the vibrator, he clamps down hard over both mouth and nose, cutting off my air. Shifting his position once again so he can put his other hand around my throat, sitting up more now, looking down at me with those glittering, seemingly-black eyes in the dark. Glittering with private, powerful knowledge and that perverse evil which is irresistible to me.

I tussle and wrench away, spluttering for air, desperate for some relief, both breath-wise and seeking my climax. He likes keeping it from me, until he’s quite ready. His hands dive beneath the sheets as he rests back on his side again, a hand propping him up while his free one finds the vibrator I wield in my hands. He places his hand over mine, pushing down, with a pulse motion. He knows I keep the rhythm steady when left to my own devices in masturbation. Constant, piercingly high vibration; no pulse. Teasing me he forces my hand to deliver pulsing vibration over my clit and for some reason, the fact of him making me masturbate to a strong pulsing vibe brings me right to the edge of orgasm; whereas it wouldn’t do if I tried it alone.

I’m falling, tipping over that silken edge…

He knows.

He turns me, flips me over and I silently scream at him, questioning why he’s ruining it, I’m desperate to hold on to that wave. He makes me fight to carry it on, to keep it within my grasp. It’s so difficult but for those few moments, it’s there, rippling through me. The climax. Just as I’m feeling the peak of it, I’m facing away and he slips into my vagina from behind. To fuck me again, to fuck me hard while I’m struggling to understand the sensations ripping through my body. He carries my orgasm on through fucking me, enjoying my already thoroughly fucked and squelching insides clamping around his cock. The vibrator rages on, squashed between my thighs now, sending powerful currents through my entire vulva, not just my clit; through to where he resides, deep inside me. I know he can feel it too, and he’s enjoying it. His perverse joy in fucking my orgasm on, turns me on more, and I cry out with…. something. Orgasm, pain, joy, love, hurt, need, begging to make this wanting-to-stop feeling carry on and never subside. A most erotic bewilderment of body and mind and emotions.

It must stop though, eventually. He comes inside me with vicious grunts and threats and names; I sob a little and find Biscuit beneath me, cuddling him to my breasts for a ‘little’ comfort. My fingers find the right button, eventually, and I turn off the vibe, letting it fall to the floor by the bed with a seemingly resounding thunk. He stays inside me until he falls asleep, and we lay like that for a good few hours; hot, wet, slippery, leaking, satisfied, sore.

Tuesday morning

I woke on my stomach, this morning. I tend to sleep like that most nights. Parts of my naked body still stuck to the sheets below and my hair a horrendous mass of knots and waves. I turned to my side, facing away from him and backed my naked behind against him. He took the hint. He was already hard and ready – always the case, really – and slipped into my still slippery, always ready cunt. Flipping me back on my front after a few moments, his weight bore down on my wrists where he held them by my head, as he fucked me properly awake.

Shower, coffee, work.

It was a good start to a very wet Tuesday.

 

 

– Cara Sutra

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