I’m no longer aware how painfully hard my boobs are. I’m no longer aware of how wet I am … of how I reek of sex … of how my clit tingles and pulses ... now everything, every feeling, and even the essence of my life itself is being drawn to that centre between my legs.
The feelings of foreplay sharpen and change character. They take on a distinct character of their own, rising sharply in pitch and intensity.
I feel that unique tensing of my pelvic floor … a most peculiar sensation, somewhat reminiscent of a cramp, but without the pain … or, perhaps with it to some extent. I feel the muscles pull hard and consequently feel a tug in both vagina and bum hole. There is a moment of relaxation and I know I am as open as I will get.
Then the pulsations start. Wave after wave after wave of contraction and release. It feels like my bum and my hole are working in perfect symmetry, and deep … deep inside, my womb seems to tremble. With each contraction comes a wave of stimulation like an itch that, when scratched makes you want to scratch it all the more. The sensation itself lies somewhere between pleasure and pain, but they are close allies in the world of sex.
My breathing stops for a few seconds and my face screws up in an expression of unspeakable agony. I’m at my most vulnerable at the mercy of the sensations coursing through me.
If I have something inside me, each contraction meets resistance which intensifies it further, and should that ‘something’ be in my bum and not my cunt, the added aspect of the forbidden … of the dirty, sharpens the intensity to an almost knife-like quality.
Is it any wonder that sometimes, I lose my reference to this plane of existence? I shake, shudder, moan, and scream my unspeakable joy. When I was a young teen I fought to keep my orgasms silent, but soon, I learned to cry out … to fill the air with obscenities which themselves enhance my trip through the peaks and troughs of orgasm.
It never just stops. My orgasms fade as if reluctant to leave me and I am reluctant to let them depart. Aftershocks are common, and I am wet long after both arousal and orgasm are a distant memory.
I lay back, whether on a bed, on furniture or the floor, and close my eyes. Sometimes I may even cry, such is the intensity of what has just happened.
My orgasm has gone, but soon, it will come again …
… and so shall I.
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