After ending a day where things seemed too easy I found myself well fed, showered and in bed by 10 pm. From a physical sense, I was content. Conversely my mind was disquieted. I had been thinking a lot about transitions and I felt excited by my position of sitting on the edge of decisions that I had the freedom to make. It was empowering and a little frightening at the same time. I know I have the resources and support to succeed at the things that I put my mind to and I know that this web site will make money for sure.
However, last night I knew enough to leave the pandemonium in my mind well enough alone and watch a television program that the learning channel was hosting called, 'Sex, Sex Pills and Lotions.' It was a history of sex and a chronology of medical research that has been done to facilitate more enjoyable sex lives of men and women who are afflicted with sexual dysfunction. Probably a television program that was intended to be an informative and scientific journal of medicine in this area turned out to be one of the most unintentionally sexy things I have ever seen. I just love an insightful and intellectual program that combines my favourite things; learning and sexual behaviour. It's the torture to control yourself because you are want to stay tuned because you have a real interest in the science, but you can't keep your hands off yourself because you are an insatiable beast burdened by the idea of these people that are experiencing physical dysfunction in their lives and by God; they are going to do something about it!
It began with a married woman who had a hysterectomy and unbelievably enough, doctors today still do not know which nerves they are cutting through when they perform any sort of abdominal surgery on males or females. They cut a nerve and it had left her with a clitoris that she described as feeling like, 'your cheek beginning to unfreeze from the needle at the dentist's office.' She couldn't get past that point physically. Her husband felt inadequate, but she consoled him in the interview and he knew that he shouldn't feel that way. She was frustrated enough for the both of them. After getting misdiagnosed with anti-depressants which only caused her to gain 40 pounds and still no orgasm, she went and saw a female M.D. The doctor had given her a medical reason as to why her clit wasn't living up to its potential. She also told her that it won't go away, but there are things she could do such as receiving testosterone injections and creams. At the end of the segment, it showed this married woman getting prepared to get fucked and the arsenal of goodies on her dresser. It included this enviable clitoral pump that had a small suction cup on the end and it induces blood flow and 'assists' in the orgasm process. There were pills and other taming products that were hidden in the back. I guess this was so hot, because it was real. She finally found some answers and the tools she needed to take matters into her own hands so to speak.
The whole program had an underlying theme of desire against arousal and function against dysfunction. What better way of measuring than to get a woman who is to have supposedly no physical dysfunction and test her vaginal responses to certain visual content. Now there's something extremely intoxicating about the educated sexual researcher and the unassuming patient that knows she is about to get turned on but she is really doing this for the betterment of science so she'll keep those thoughts in the back of her mind. In the back of my mind, I am thinking that she can't do anything about it until she gets home or at least until she is in the car for cripes sake. The patient is an average looking women who supposedly had an explosive sexual urge and healthy libido. She was told in medical terms what was going to be happening to her. The scientist was stern and direct with the patient, explaining that this jelly bean shaped glass object will be inserted into her vagina and that the plastic piece MUST, MUST, MUST stay flat against her pubic bone. So the patient sat through the first set of images that had no sexual content only to measure her vaginal response. There were small spikes in terms of the response on the chart. Then the hot images came in and they panned to the scientist with her clipboard and nifty computer program smiling at the huge spikes almost off the chart. It's working!! The doctor receives on-the-fly results from this patient who we know at this point is drooling and heady in the next room. How hot is that? As she collects the results, the scientist gives an aside on exactly what the patient should be feeling. The images were to invoke lust or memories of things that have happened to them in the past. The point was to measure what happens to your vagina as you begin to get aroused. Since they can't measure or bottle desire, the big ticket showdown was between desire and arousal. You can be aroused without feeling desire. Now that's an interesting topic to be explored later! Back to the scientist who is to remain professional must find it difficult to keep that façade when she approaches her patient once the test is complete. What can you say at that moment? You already know from a scientific stand, that she is so hot and is probably a little unrefined given the situation. If I was the doctor, I would understand that it challenges you to just try and remain human. So I would offer to run the videos again so the patient has time to finish if she would like. How selfless of me.
Next was a woman who was strapped in a MRI CAT scanning machine that couldn't move at all while images were shown to her. At this point while watching this program; it was difficult to keep my hands off my own pussy. I couldn't imagine what this normal, healthy 40 something women was going through.
When the program broke too commercial is when my hands sped up and my legs spread as wide as my double mattress. My hips tilted up so my clit was there just peaking. My hands were under the covers and I looked like a man who was stroking fast and furiously is how much the blankets were moving. I wanted to close my eyes and think about the doctor/patient sexual research bit from earlier, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the flurry of my hand fully cupped over my pussy. Then as I was seconds away, I heard my roommate come home. I was pissed, but I knew how good it was going to feel so I didn't really care at this point. The program came back on and my hand slowed down a bit. There was a man being interviewed who had invented a self-tanning injection. He thought he would test it on himself. He had miscalculated certain levels of the injection and it left him with a hard-on for 8 hours. He tried to keep it down with ice and did all sorts of things. If I were him, I just would have jerked off all day. Stroking that cock is what I was hoping he did with his medical mistake. Eureka! He had embarked on something else, so he called an urologist and shelved his self-tanning idea for a while. This would obviously make some money and men and women around the world happy.
I was really interested in this program which was almost over. It had contained so much to think about in an intellectual way as well as a naughty way. And it's a certainly perverted to see the naughty in scientific development. I was intrigued by the response the penis has to sexual stimuli. I was in awe of the retired couples in Tuscan, Arizona who still like to fuck and they will acquire any drug or try injections to make sure that their sex life doesn't change. Now that's the life. I was empowered by these women who didn't take no for an answer. Who took pride in their pussy and took action on needing to live a sexual life and wanting to fuck their men well. Then I was seduced by the notion that these scientists who deal with this suggestive research all day have to think about response as humans not just from a scientific point of view. Coincidentally though, the researchers were women and they had to choose the material and devise hypotheses about how a woman would respond. You add knowledge to this equation and wouldn't you need to take 5 and go to the washroom on lunch and just ravage yourself. That is not a question.
These thoughts were racing through my mind and I didn't even hear the show anymore. My hands were all over my pussy, gliding fingers in and out and up and down. I thought about getting my vibrator, my dildo anything else because to enhance that feeling would have put me right over the edge. I couldn't escape the feeling to stop it though. I had been working on this orgasm for an hour now. I had to finish. I pressed my thumb into my stomach which keeps my hand propped and strong so my wrist doesn't hurt. Then the first two fingers were just moving side to side and then in circles. The rest of the fingers are just docked on my inner thigh so I can put pressure on my clit. All of this happens so fast that it just looks like I am taking a bad day out on my pussy. I knew I was going to cum and my last thought was of a doctor in the early 1900's, going through his agenda and giving an orgasm with one of the older style vibrators that looked like a drill and was powered by steam. I could visualize him pressing it on her clit and waiting patiently for her to cum and he's doing this for her hysteria, a real medical condition back then. What a push-pull environment and this is a medical procedure! How confused was the patient? And when she showed pleasure, I wonder if the doctor frowned at that. Or did it make his pants stir? This makes my hand go faster and my fingers start slipping, so I just press harder in frenzy. I was going for ten. Then when I think I just can't stand it anymore, I take left hand and slide it up under my tank top and squeeze and crush my nipples just to point right below discomfort. That was all I needed and then I allowed this wave on exhale to one of the most potent orgasms I could have ever given myself. What I would have given for my main man to walk in at that point to show me what kind of women I really am.