The Foibles of Self-Pleasuring
Started by Yesmania Thanos
·
2 Replies
Posted: 4 yrs
The Foibles of Self-Pleasuring Ch. 01
I'm not sure what led to my first morning adventure that sunny day in May. Maybe it was that my job teaching at the University was done for the summer and I had time on my hands with the kids still in school. Maybe it was that I had just gone off the Pill, which I had always believed had an impact on my level of sexual desire. Whatever the case, I could not take my mind off of sex that morning after my husband left for work. I had a long list of household chores to take care of and had just taken the dog for a long walk to enjoy the morning sun.
I knew I should be folding laundry or paying bills or cleaning the kitchen or something practical, but instead I decided to pull out my book of erotic short stories from the back of my bedroom bookshelf and have a quick read to see where it led. The first story, while erotic, was only enough to increase but not satiate my desire. But I was having a hard time justifying wasting more of my precious child-free time reading dirty stories just to bring myself to orgasm.
And so came my brilliant idea. A shower. I would take a shower and try out the fancy shower head settings I keep meaning to try - to see if it's really possible to have an orgasm aided by the pulsating stream of hot water carefully focused on my most 'womanly' parts. I was sweaty from my walk already, so I needed a shower anyhow. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
Always a practical person, I cleaned my body and my hair first before my 'experiment'. Then I turned the dial on the shower head to check out my options. The water changed from its soft rain-like downpour to a strong and pulsating hard and heavy stream. That was the one I was after. I carefully positioned myself so that the vibrating bursts of water were massaging my clit. I was unimpressed. Not only was the stream of water not helping me get off, the rest of my body, now untouched by the warm water, was getting quite chilly. I kept at it for a while, using my fingers to help out the water, but I was cold and the water pressure was strong enough that rather than encouraging ecstasy, I was approaching numbness.
OK, the book didn't work and neither did the shower. Now, I was on a mission. Forget about the housework, I needed to have an orgasm. Was there something wrong with me that neither a well written erotic story nor a pulsating shower massage could successfully bring me to arousal?
Time to bring out the big guns. I dug out my vibrator from the depths of my night table drawer and sought out a more graphic (less literate) story. The dog was spread out on our bed, exhausted from our long walk, and I felt uncomfortable pleasuring myself in her company, so I retreated to the bathroom, which was still warm & humid from my lengthy shower. I put my bathrobe on, leaving it untied, and sat down on the toilet - the only seat available to me in the bathroom. I flipped through my book of short stories, looking for the graphic parts - skipping plot for now and seeking out keywords: "dick" "cunt" "hot" "wet" "cum", etc.
Focusing on the prime paragraphs, those chock full of my keywords, I held the book with my left hand and the vibrator with my right. I started out lightly touching my clit with the vibrating stick, scanning the book for at least a full page or two of graphic sexual descriptions. I read and read some more, but couldn't find anything that really did it for me. I dropped the book and used my left hand to massage my clit while I plunged the vibrator into my pussy. OK, I'll admit, it felt good and I began to feel optimistic. I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to make the toilet seat feel more comfortable than it really was. Then, the vibrator stopped vibrating. I sat up and opened my eyes. I banged on it with my free hand and it started up again, vibrating ever so slowly, then fast again, then slow, then not at all. I turned it off and on again.
Again, it vibrated slow, fast, slow, stopped. And then I could not get it to start again. The batteries had died on me before I had a chance to complete the act! "SHIT!" I exclaimed. If I was more religious, I would have thought that God didn't want me to have an orgasm this morning. I tried using the vibrator as more of a dildo, massaging my clit and concentrating really hard on getting myself closer to the waves of pleasure I longed for. But the more I concentrated, the less successful I was. And besides, the toilet seat was really hard and uncomfortable. Not to mention I could hear the clock on the wall ticking, reminding me that I was clearly wasting my time here with all the other more important activities waiting for me on my "To Do" list.
I got up, tied my robe and headed out of the bathroom, thinking of all the things I had to get done before lunch time. 'Alright, I give up' I told my resistant body. I got dressed and headed downstairs to check my e-mail messages and make some progress on research I needed to complete for my job.
No messages. No ideas for the research. I glanced up at the clock. It was 11. I had a lunch date at noon. I was still mad at my body for not cooperating, especially when I was trying so darn hard. It was so unlike me to try to pleasure myself at all, even in bed at night. So to spend an hour of my morning working this hard at it was unbelievable to me. And to have failed! How frustrating!
OK - I had about 45 minutes before I had to leave. One more try, I figured. I hate starting things and not finishing them. In front of the computer, I found my favorite online erotic story site.
Now, I am a fairly traditional kind of gal (despite the story I am telling you now), so I really wanted to select and successfully pleasure myself with a traditional kind of story (husband and wife, true love forever, consensual, loving, sex stories). I looked at one story from this more conservative story category and was underwhelmed. I looked at another, and another. They were nice stories about people like me and my husband, in love, having explosive sex with each other, landing happily in each other arms and proclaiming their love for each other at the end. Why did this not do it for me?
I glanced again at the topics I had to choose from on the story web site. I grimaced and closed my eyes (so I could do what? Trick myself into not noticing my selection?) - and made my choice - S&M. Intriguing in a fantasy world, even if I couldn't ever actually get that far in reality (and believe me, we had tried!).
I found a lovely story about a woman being pushed into pleasuring her master in all kinds of sexy and (what should be) distasteful ways. I should have been turned off, as in real life this did not appeal to me at all - but instead I found myself oddly aroused. As I continued to read, my left hand reached into my pants and under my panties to my (not wet enough) cunt. I rubbed myself faster and faster, rub-rub-page down, rub-rub-page down, glancing up at the clock now and again. Nothing like working against the clock. Then, during a particularly distasteful (or what really should have been distasteful) scene where three men were fucking this poor woman in all three orifices, I finally felt the waves of pleasure that had eluded me all morning. Thank goodness I don't have to finish the story, I thought, as it was suddenly not nearly as arousing as it was a minute ago. I glanced up at the clock - I still had five minutes to dry my hair and get out the door.
I'm not sure what led to my first morning adventure that sunny day in May. Maybe it was that my job teaching at the University was done for the summer and I had time on my hands with the kids still in school. Maybe it was that I had just gone off the Pill, which I had always believed had an impact on my level of sexual desire. Whatever the case, I could not take my mind off of sex that morning after my husband left for work. I had a long list of household chores to take care of and had just taken the dog for a long walk to enjoy the morning sun.
I knew I should be folding laundry or paying bills or cleaning the kitchen or something practical, but instead I decided to pull out my book of erotic short stories from the back of my bedroom bookshelf and have a quick read to see where it led. The first story, while erotic, was only enough to increase but not satiate my desire. But I was having a hard time justifying wasting more of my precious child-free time reading dirty stories just to bring myself to orgasm.
And so came my brilliant idea. A shower. I would take a shower and try out the fancy shower head settings I keep meaning to try - to see if it's really possible to have an orgasm aided by the pulsating stream of hot water carefully focused on my most 'womanly' parts. I was sweaty from my walk already, so I needed a shower anyhow. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
Always a practical person, I cleaned my body and my hair first before my 'experiment'. Then I turned the dial on the shower head to check out my options. The water changed from its soft rain-like downpour to a strong and pulsating hard and heavy stream. That was the one I was after. I carefully positioned myself so that the vibrating bursts of water were massaging my clit. I was unimpressed. Not only was the stream of water not helping me get off, the rest of my body, now untouched by the warm water, was getting quite chilly. I kept at it for a while, using my fingers to help out the water, but I was cold and the water pressure was strong enough that rather than encouraging ecstasy, I was approaching numbness.
OK, the book didn't work and neither did the shower. Now, I was on a mission. Forget about the housework, I needed to have an orgasm. Was there something wrong with me that neither a well written erotic story nor a pulsating shower massage could successfully bring me to arousal?
Time to bring out the big guns. I dug out my vibrator from the depths of my night table drawer and sought out a more graphic (less literate) story. The dog was spread out on our bed, exhausted from our long walk, and I felt uncomfortable pleasuring myself in her company, so I retreated to the bathroom, which was still warm & humid from my lengthy shower. I put my bathrobe on, leaving it untied, and sat down on the toilet - the only seat available to me in the bathroom. I flipped through my book of short stories, looking for the graphic parts - skipping plot for now and seeking out keywords: "dick" "cunt" "hot" "wet" "cum", etc.
Focusing on the prime paragraphs, those chock full of my keywords, I held the book with my left hand and the vibrator with my right. I started out lightly touching my clit with the vibrating stick, scanning the book for at least a full page or two of graphic sexual descriptions. I read and read some more, but couldn't find anything that really did it for me. I dropped the book and used my left hand to massage my clit while I plunged the vibrator into my pussy. OK, I'll admit, it felt good and I began to feel optimistic. I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to make the toilet seat feel more comfortable than it really was. Then, the vibrator stopped vibrating. I sat up and opened my eyes. I banged on it with my free hand and it started up again, vibrating ever so slowly, then fast again, then slow, then not at all. I turned it off and on again.
Again, it vibrated slow, fast, slow, stopped. And then I could not get it to start again. The batteries had died on me before I had a chance to complete the act! "SHIT!" I exclaimed. If I was more religious, I would have thought that God didn't want me to have an orgasm this morning. I tried using the vibrator as more of a dildo, massaging my clit and concentrating really hard on getting myself closer to the waves of pleasure I longed for. But the more I concentrated, the less successful I was. And besides, the toilet seat was really hard and uncomfortable. Not to mention I could hear the clock on the wall ticking, reminding me that I was clearly wasting my time here with all the other more important activities waiting for me on my "To Do" list.
I got up, tied my robe and headed out of the bathroom, thinking of all the things I had to get done before lunch time. 'Alright, I give up' I told my resistant body. I got dressed and headed downstairs to check my e-mail messages and make some progress on research I needed to complete for my job.
No messages. No ideas for the research. I glanced up at the clock. It was 11. I had a lunch date at noon. I was still mad at my body for not cooperating, especially when I was trying so darn hard. It was so unlike me to try to pleasure myself at all, even in bed at night. So to spend an hour of my morning working this hard at it was unbelievable to me. And to have failed! How frustrating!
OK - I had about 45 minutes before I had to leave. One more try, I figured. I hate starting things and not finishing them. In front of the computer, I found my favorite online erotic story site.
Now, I am a fairly traditional kind of gal (despite the story I am telling you now), so I really wanted to select and successfully pleasure myself with a traditional kind of story (husband and wife, true love forever, consensual, loving, sex stories). I looked at one story from this more conservative story category and was underwhelmed. I looked at another, and another. They were nice stories about people like me and my husband, in love, having explosive sex with each other, landing happily in each other arms and proclaiming their love for each other at the end. Why did this not do it for me?
I glanced again at the topics I had to choose from on the story web site. I grimaced and closed my eyes (so I could do what? Trick myself into not noticing my selection?) - and made my choice - S&M. Intriguing in a fantasy world, even if I couldn't ever actually get that far in reality (and believe me, we had tried!).
I found a lovely story about a woman being pushed into pleasuring her master in all kinds of sexy and (what should be) distasteful ways. I should have been turned off, as in real life this did not appeal to me at all - but instead I found myself oddly aroused. As I continued to read, my left hand reached into my pants and under my panties to my (not wet enough) cunt. I rubbed myself faster and faster, rub-rub-page down, rub-rub-page down, glancing up at the clock now and again. Nothing like working against the clock. Then, during a particularly distasteful (or what really should have been distasteful) scene where three men were fucking this poor woman in all three orifices, I finally felt the waves of pleasure that had eluded me all morning. Thank goodness I don't have to finish the story, I thought, as it was suddenly not nearly as arousing as it was a minute ago. I glanced up at the clock - I still had five minutes to dry my hair and get out the door.
Yesmania Thanos Joined: 5 yrs
Posted: 3 yrs
The Foibles of Self-Pleasuring Ch. 02
A few days after my first misadventure with "individual sexual activity", I was still feeling that itch that I had gone without for so many years. How do men get any work done, with all that sex on their minds all day long? My time was just not my own, as my mind continually drifted from its scheduled activities (paying the bills, balancing the checkbook) to more preferable ones (imagining my husband taking me from behind against the kitchen counter or thinking about the sexy outfits I'd wear on our Vegas vacation later that summer and how they would drive him crazy). How can anyone concentrate with a mind that can't stop thinking about sex?
And yet, there was no way I was going to attempt to bring this to closure with a handy vibrator-assisted orgasm. We all know how that went last time! I didn't want to spend another entire day trying in vain to pleasure myself. How depressing that my mind was suddenly in the mood and my body decided not to cooperate.
So, I decided, why waste the pleasure and the excitement and the orgasm on myself and an empty house? Why not wait until later that evening when I could share my newfound enthusiasm for sex with a willing participant? Couldn't I just wait until after the kids were in bed and attack my husband? Maybe there was a way to feed my sexual pleasure and keep it going all day so I'd be ready for some real sexual adventures later in the evening.
After I finished exercising, I showered and went to my closet to get dressed. Rather than the usual comfy underwear, I dug into the back of my lingerie drawer and pulled out a thong. I'm not usually a big fan of them, but I figured that feeling that skinny swath of cloth between my legs all day would help keep me turned on.
OK, what else can I do to make myself feel sexy? I thought for a while, and then even went into our 'sex drawer' to see what props from our past adventures I could find. I rifled around, pushing aside the vibrator (still needs batteries), the butt plug (which I like but won't admit it out loud), the soft handcuffs (ditto), and the hairbrush (no comment). Aha! During one of our adventurous vacations without kids, my husband had brought these rubber band things that wrap around my nipples. The bands place pressure on the nipple, causing that ever favorite pleasure/pain combination.
This is what I'd do - wear the nipple bands and cover up the evidence - my extremely pointy nipples - with a padded bra. No one would know but me, and I'd have the pressure of the band wrapped around my nipples all day, turning me on so that I'd attack my husband the second the kids were deposited in their beds.
I grinned as I put the bands on, pleased with my creativity and knowing my husband would be wild with desire when he found out what I'd done. I got dressed and headed downstairs to work on the bills, the checkbook, all the things I couldn't get into earlier.
About half an hour later, I headed up to the bathroom to get ready to go out to the grocery store. Walking into the bathroom, I stuck my hand down the back of my pants for the tenth time, to pull the thong underwear out of my butt crack. Turns out the thong was more annoying than sexy - but I was sticking with it for now.
I put on my lipstick and was all ready to go to the store, when I decided to check out the state of my nipples. They were a little sore, but I couldn't really feel the nipple rings, so I thought I'd adjust myself in the bra, or touch myself, or something to help supplement the pleasure I was supposed to be feeling on a steady basis with the rings.
I lifted up my shirt and pulled back my bra to reveal my left nipple. It was stretched out and a bit red from the nipple ring. It felt quite sore when I touched it and I decided that perhaps wearing them all day wasn't so wise. When we had 'played' with them before, I think I wore them for about ½ hour before we took them off. So much for my sexy plan, I thought as I yanked at the ring. It was NOT easy to rip that thing off my nipple, and I yelped in pain as I rolled the band off my very sore nipple.
Then, I pulled back the other side of my bra to reveal my right nipple and gasped. It was purple! I had somehow managed to completely cut off the circulation to the nipple! I couldn't believe I was going to go to the store with these on! I could have completely cut off the blood supply to my right nipple and ended up nipple-less! And for what? Because I was horny? I had to get this sex thing under control!
But first things first - I had to get this nipple ring off my nipple before I lost all sensation in my nipple for good! I tried to pull the ring off as I had done with the left side. "FUCK! That hurts!" What an incredibly painful piercing feeling! Guess it wasn't completely numb yet.
I tried again, rolling the nipple ring to get it off my nipple. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
I cursed. The dog looked up at me. "OK, I know I'm an idiot! Don't look at me like that!"
I had to act quick. I was in a lot of pain and I was afraid it would just get worse. I tried one more time - pulling as hard and as quickly as I could. "YOW! OW OW OW OW OW OW!" No luck. It wasn't budging. I pulled out the little pump device that I had used to attach the ring, to see if it would help me detach it. "YOW!" No luck. I tried to pull the ring off again, screaming in pain. More pain - no movement.
How was I going to ever get this thing off? I could try to cut it, but that would cut my nipple for sure - no good. I had already tried pulling with all my might with no luck. Was I going to have to take myself to the emergency room and admit my problem? Or, worse, call my husband and ask him to come home from work to help me? How does he explain to his co-workers that I pulled him out of his meeting because of a sex toy mishap? What if the kids got home from school and I was still in the emergency room? I would be the laughing stock of the neighborhood. Was that better or worse than going through life with no right nipple?
The more I thought about these options, the more desperate I got. I finally took a deep breath and then firmly grabbed the ring and pulled. I focused on the task and tried to 'breathe through the pain', like I had learned in Lamaze class. I pulled and breathed and pulled and breathed and finally, the ring came off. My nipple was purple and seriously sore, but at least there would be no emergency room trip now.
I breathed a sigh of relief and then got dressed. My nipples were carefully housed in my softest padded bra, but now very uncomfortably sore. So much for a little sexual excitement. There was NO WAY anyone was touching these nipples tonight!
Well, that was it for me that day. Whatever sexual desires or needs that were distracting me from my daily grind this morning were GONE for sure by now. I resigned myself to another ho-hum day, changed back into my plain old underwear, and headed out to the grocery store.
A few days after my first misadventure with "individual sexual activity", I was still feeling that itch that I had gone without for so many years. How do men get any work done, with all that sex on their minds all day long? My time was just not my own, as my mind continually drifted from its scheduled activities (paying the bills, balancing the checkbook) to more preferable ones (imagining my husband taking me from behind against the kitchen counter or thinking about the sexy outfits I'd wear on our Vegas vacation later that summer and how they would drive him crazy). How can anyone concentrate with a mind that can't stop thinking about sex?
And yet, there was no way I was going to attempt to bring this to closure with a handy vibrator-assisted orgasm. We all know how that went last time! I didn't want to spend another entire day trying in vain to pleasure myself. How depressing that my mind was suddenly in the mood and my body decided not to cooperate.
So, I decided, why waste the pleasure and the excitement and the orgasm on myself and an empty house? Why not wait until later that evening when I could share my newfound enthusiasm for sex with a willing participant? Couldn't I just wait until after the kids were in bed and attack my husband? Maybe there was a way to feed my sexual pleasure and keep it going all day so I'd be ready for some real sexual adventures later in the evening.
After I finished exercising, I showered and went to my closet to get dressed. Rather than the usual comfy underwear, I dug into the back of my lingerie drawer and pulled out a thong. I'm not usually a big fan of them, but I figured that feeling that skinny swath of cloth between my legs all day would help keep me turned on.
OK, what else can I do to make myself feel sexy? I thought for a while, and then even went into our 'sex drawer' to see what props from our past adventures I could find. I rifled around, pushing aside the vibrator (still needs batteries), the butt plug (which I like but won't admit it out loud), the soft handcuffs (ditto), and the hairbrush (no comment). Aha! During one of our adventurous vacations without kids, my husband had brought these rubber band things that wrap around my nipples. The bands place pressure on the nipple, causing that ever favorite pleasure/pain combination.
This is what I'd do - wear the nipple bands and cover up the evidence - my extremely pointy nipples - with a padded bra. No one would know but me, and I'd have the pressure of the band wrapped around my nipples all day, turning me on so that I'd attack my husband the second the kids were deposited in their beds.
I grinned as I put the bands on, pleased with my creativity and knowing my husband would be wild with desire when he found out what I'd done. I got dressed and headed downstairs to work on the bills, the checkbook, all the things I couldn't get into earlier.
About half an hour later, I headed up to the bathroom to get ready to go out to the grocery store. Walking into the bathroom, I stuck my hand down the back of my pants for the tenth time, to pull the thong underwear out of my butt crack. Turns out the thong was more annoying than sexy - but I was sticking with it for now.
I put on my lipstick and was all ready to go to the store, when I decided to check out the state of my nipples. They were a little sore, but I couldn't really feel the nipple rings, so I thought I'd adjust myself in the bra, or touch myself, or something to help supplement the pleasure I was supposed to be feeling on a steady basis with the rings.
I lifted up my shirt and pulled back my bra to reveal my left nipple. It was stretched out and a bit red from the nipple ring. It felt quite sore when I touched it and I decided that perhaps wearing them all day wasn't so wise. When we had 'played' with them before, I think I wore them for about ½ hour before we took them off. So much for my sexy plan, I thought as I yanked at the ring. It was NOT easy to rip that thing off my nipple, and I yelped in pain as I rolled the band off my very sore nipple.
Then, I pulled back the other side of my bra to reveal my right nipple and gasped. It was purple! I had somehow managed to completely cut off the circulation to the nipple! I couldn't believe I was going to go to the store with these on! I could have completely cut off the blood supply to my right nipple and ended up nipple-less! And for what? Because I was horny? I had to get this sex thing under control!
But first things first - I had to get this nipple ring off my nipple before I lost all sensation in my nipple for good! I tried to pull the ring off as I had done with the left side. "FUCK! That hurts!" What an incredibly painful piercing feeling! Guess it wasn't completely numb yet.
I tried again, rolling the nipple ring to get it off my nipple. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
I cursed. The dog looked up at me. "OK, I know I'm an idiot! Don't look at me like that!"
I had to act quick. I was in a lot of pain and I was afraid it would just get worse. I tried one more time - pulling as hard and as quickly as I could. "YOW! OW OW OW OW OW OW!" No luck. It wasn't budging. I pulled out the little pump device that I had used to attach the ring, to see if it would help me detach it. "YOW!" No luck. I tried to pull the ring off again, screaming in pain. More pain - no movement.
How was I going to ever get this thing off? I could try to cut it, but that would cut my nipple for sure - no good. I had already tried pulling with all my might with no luck. Was I going to have to take myself to the emergency room and admit my problem? Or, worse, call my husband and ask him to come home from work to help me? How does he explain to his co-workers that I pulled him out of his meeting because of a sex toy mishap? What if the kids got home from school and I was still in the emergency room? I would be the laughing stock of the neighborhood. Was that better or worse than going through life with no right nipple?
The more I thought about these options, the more desperate I got. I finally took a deep breath and then firmly grabbed the ring and pulled. I focused on the task and tried to 'breathe through the pain', like I had learned in Lamaze class. I pulled and breathed and pulled and breathed and finally, the ring came off. My nipple was purple and seriously sore, but at least there would be no emergency room trip now.
I breathed a sigh of relief and then got dressed. My nipples were carefully housed in my softest padded bra, but now very uncomfortably sore. So much for a little sexual excitement. There was NO WAY anyone was touching these nipples tonight!
Well, that was it for me that day. Whatever sexual desires or needs that were distracting me from my daily grind this morning were GONE for sure by now. I resigned myself to another ho-hum day, changed back into my plain old underwear, and headed out to the grocery store.
Yesmania Thanos Joined: 5 yrs
Posted: 3 yrs
The Foibles of Self-Pleasuring Ch. 03
Of course, I had to break down and tell my husband about my misadventures with the nipple ring, since I had to explain why he was no longer allowed to come anywhere near my nipples for the rest of the summer. I was looking for sympathy, but got laugher instead. Oh well - that's what I get for trying to take initiative.
He decided that perhaps I wasn't very good at making my own decisions about sex and that I needed a little guidance from him. After all, I did prefer the submissive role over the dominant one, in general.
He pulled out a catalog of adult products that we had recently received in the mail. "THIS IS YOUR LAST CATALOG!" it proclaimed on the front. Apparently, we weren't regular enough customers to guarantee a lifetime subscription for this catalog of sex toys and videos starring women with enormous fake breasts.
"I want you to order three things from this catalog by the end of the day, or you will be severely punished," he told me in his most dominant voice.
"Are you kidding me? I don't want anything from that catalog!" I said, testing him.
"It's your choice," he said calmly, staying in his role. "Order, or be punished."
"Maybe I want to be punished," I joked, sort of meaning it.
"OK," he said, pinching my sore nipple, "it's up to you."
"Ouch! That's not fair! You know that's my sore nipple."
"It's your choice" he said, pushing the catalog my way, "order or be punished. Three items - one toy, one video and one item of your choice. Pick out things that turn you on, not things that you think will turn me on. Or pick out nothing, and take your punishment. At the end of the day, I want to see a printout of your online order form as proof, or you will be punished."
That day, while I was home by myself, I flipped through the catalog and turned a few pages down - some ideas that had potential. Then, I got wrapped up in my busy day and forgot about the catalog.
When my husband came home that night he asked me, "So, did you order? Can I see your order confirmation?"
"You know - I had so much to do today that I didn't get a chance, and it's not the kind of web site I am comfortable surfing around on with the kids home. You weren't really serious about the deadline anyway, were you?"
"Order or be punished. That was the choice. I guess you've picked the punishment."
"Please, be realistic. I had an extremely busy day and there is NO WAY I'm going to order with the kids home. Give me a break."
"OK - you can have until we go to bed to place your order - that gives you plenty of time to make your selection after the kids are in bed. And I can see that you've already gotten started, judging from the pages you've turned down.
I was a bit annoyed by the demanding tone of voice that he was using, but he was more right than I'd like to admit. I was turned on by him telling me what I had to do (and even curious about what my punishment for non-compliance would be). Besides, it might be fun to add a few new items to our collection. I decided to give it a try.
After the kids were in bed, I headed into the office and began to surf the web site in search of my required three items. I thought the video would be the easiest to select and started with that. Most sex videos are geared toward men and have no plot, other than two (or more) people having sex, and they all end with the same cum shot - the guy coming all over the girl's face while she makes incredibly fake moans and fondles her melon-sized breasts as if this is the most pleasure she could get. Stupid. Not engaging or realistic or anything that works for me.
So, I worked my way through pages and pages of two-sentence descriptions, looking for some semblance of a plot, and finally selected an 'award winning' video that was directed by a female and meant to appeal to couples.
With my first choice done, I moved on to the others. After much thinking and a thorough review of my choices, I selected a toy and a lube that I thought would really help turn me on. I triumphantly printed out my order confirmation sheet from the web site to show my husband, keeping my actual selections a secret. He would have to wait until they arrived to see the choices I made.
After about a week of waiting (me much more patiently than my eager husband), the nondescript brown-paper wrapped package arrived in the mail with my items. I opened them in the privacy of my bedroom before my husband got home from work, to check them out. The video actually had a plot description on the back, which was promising. The "toy" I picked out was a set of Ben Wa balls - you insert them up inside of you, and the idea is that the balls bang up together inside of you, constantly reminding you of your sexuality and getting you more & more excited. The third item was a clitoral stimulating cream. The web site advertised that the cream would "get you so hot that even the lightest touch will make you come." It did not, however, mention the incredibly long list of warnings that came with the cream - apply only to clitoris and do not allow the cream to touch the vaginal lips, wash hands thoroughly after applying, do not ingest, do not touch, itching and/or burning sensations are possible, etc.
So, other than the long list of warnings for the cream, my new items had definite possibility for enhancing our sex life. I showed them to my husband that night after the kids were in bed. Then, without him looking, I inserted the balls and headed downstairs to surprise him. I envisioned the balls knocking against each other and moving around inside me in a very stimulating manner. In reality, one of the balls kept falling out of me, as they were quite small (and I have had two kids...). I kept sticking it back up inside me, and then I would feel it work its way to the surface again. I felt like a circus clown who is surprised by ping pong balls coming out of his mouth. They just would not stay put. I kept shoving them back in and they kept falling out again. Finally, I gave up and kept out the one that kept falling out. Then, I reached in to find the other one, and couldn't find it. There I was, sitting on the sofa, one wet, sticky ball on the table next to me sitting on a tissue, the other one hiding somewhere inside me. I stuck my hand up inside me, rooting around in a terribly non-sexual way to find the missing ball (there was no way I'd even consider an emergency room visit for a missing ben wa ball!).
"Um, honey? I couldn't keep the one ball inside of me, but, uh, the other ball? It, uh, is still in there somewhere, and I, um, well, I... I can't find it in there. I think it's stuck way up inside me. Can you help me get it out? Please? Now?"
So much for purchase #1. We still had two more purchases to try out.
We tried out the cream the next night. We read through the warnings and decided that we would try it out but make sure that he didn't use his mouth or cock down there, in case there was a reaction to the cream. I carefully applied the tiniest bit of the cream directly to my clitoris (with some helpful direction from my husband) - thinking about how it was going to speed up my time to orgasm (which really did need some help, after all) and bring me incredible pleasure.
"How's it feel?" he asked me.
"Hmm. Kind of like - ouch! Oooh. Not good, really." It felt like I was having an allergic reaction - burning, itching, uncomfortable. I was afraid that it would feel that way forever and was not in the least turned on. I hopped out of bed to get a wash cloth to wash the cream off.
So much for purchase #2. One more to go - the 'couple friendly' video. That weekend, after the kids were in bed, we plugged it into the DVD player and sat back to wait for the excitement to happen. I was pleased to see that there was a plot, with acting (pretty decent) and dialog (not too bad). The movie didn't just jump into a blow job like the traditional ones, we had to wait for it to be appropriate to the plot. I was pleased with my choice, as I watched the movie and waited for the sex. Then, I fell asleep...
So much for purchase #3. And back to the drawing board for me and my adventures.
Of course, I had to break down and tell my husband about my misadventures with the nipple ring, since I had to explain why he was no longer allowed to come anywhere near my nipples for the rest of the summer. I was looking for sympathy, but got laugher instead. Oh well - that's what I get for trying to take initiative.
He decided that perhaps I wasn't very good at making my own decisions about sex and that I needed a little guidance from him. After all, I did prefer the submissive role over the dominant one, in general.
He pulled out a catalog of adult products that we had recently received in the mail. "THIS IS YOUR LAST CATALOG!" it proclaimed on the front. Apparently, we weren't regular enough customers to guarantee a lifetime subscription for this catalog of sex toys and videos starring women with enormous fake breasts.
"I want you to order three things from this catalog by the end of the day, or you will be severely punished," he told me in his most dominant voice.
"Are you kidding me? I don't want anything from that catalog!" I said, testing him.
"It's your choice," he said calmly, staying in his role. "Order, or be punished."
"Maybe I want to be punished," I joked, sort of meaning it.
"OK," he said, pinching my sore nipple, "it's up to you."
"Ouch! That's not fair! You know that's my sore nipple."
"It's your choice" he said, pushing the catalog my way, "order or be punished. Three items - one toy, one video and one item of your choice. Pick out things that turn you on, not things that you think will turn me on. Or pick out nothing, and take your punishment. At the end of the day, I want to see a printout of your online order form as proof, or you will be punished."
That day, while I was home by myself, I flipped through the catalog and turned a few pages down - some ideas that had potential. Then, I got wrapped up in my busy day and forgot about the catalog.
When my husband came home that night he asked me, "So, did you order? Can I see your order confirmation?"
"You know - I had so much to do today that I didn't get a chance, and it's not the kind of web site I am comfortable surfing around on with the kids home. You weren't really serious about the deadline anyway, were you?"
"Order or be punished. That was the choice. I guess you've picked the punishment."
"Please, be realistic. I had an extremely busy day and there is NO WAY I'm going to order with the kids home. Give me a break."
"OK - you can have until we go to bed to place your order - that gives you plenty of time to make your selection after the kids are in bed. And I can see that you've already gotten started, judging from the pages you've turned down.
I was a bit annoyed by the demanding tone of voice that he was using, but he was more right than I'd like to admit. I was turned on by him telling me what I had to do (and even curious about what my punishment for non-compliance would be). Besides, it might be fun to add a few new items to our collection. I decided to give it a try.
After the kids were in bed, I headed into the office and began to surf the web site in search of my required three items. I thought the video would be the easiest to select and started with that. Most sex videos are geared toward men and have no plot, other than two (or more) people having sex, and they all end with the same cum shot - the guy coming all over the girl's face while she makes incredibly fake moans and fondles her melon-sized breasts as if this is the most pleasure she could get. Stupid. Not engaging or realistic or anything that works for me.
So, I worked my way through pages and pages of two-sentence descriptions, looking for some semblance of a plot, and finally selected an 'award winning' video that was directed by a female and meant to appeal to couples.
With my first choice done, I moved on to the others. After much thinking and a thorough review of my choices, I selected a toy and a lube that I thought would really help turn me on. I triumphantly printed out my order confirmation sheet from the web site to show my husband, keeping my actual selections a secret. He would have to wait until they arrived to see the choices I made.
After about a week of waiting (me much more patiently than my eager husband), the nondescript brown-paper wrapped package arrived in the mail with my items. I opened them in the privacy of my bedroom before my husband got home from work, to check them out. The video actually had a plot description on the back, which was promising. The "toy" I picked out was a set of Ben Wa balls - you insert them up inside of you, and the idea is that the balls bang up together inside of you, constantly reminding you of your sexuality and getting you more & more excited. The third item was a clitoral stimulating cream. The web site advertised that the cream would "get you so hot that even the lightest touch will make you come." It did not, however, mention the incredibly long list of warnings that came with the cream - apply only to clitoris and do not allow the cream to touch the vaginal lips, wash hands thoroughly after applying, do not ingest, do not touch, itching and/or burning sensations are possible, etc.
So, other than the long list of warnings for the cream, my new items had definite possibility for enhancing our sex life. I showed them to my husband that night after the kids were in bed. Then, without him looking, I inserted the balls and headed downstairs to surprise him. I envisioned the balls knocking against each other and moving around inside me in a very stimulating manner. In reality, one of the balls kept falling out of me, as they were quite small (and I have had two kids...). I kept sticking it back up inside me, and then I would feel it work its way to the surface again. I felt like a circus clown who is surprised by ping pong balls coming out of his mouth. They just would not stay put. I kept shoving them back in and they kept falling out again. Finally, I gave up and kept out the one that kept falling out. Then, I reached in to find the other one, and couldn't find it. There I was, sitting on the sofa, one wet, sticky ball on the table next to me sitting on a tissue, the other one hiding somewhere inside me. I stuck my hand up inside me, rooting around in a terribly non-sexual way to find the missing ball (there was no way I'd even consider an emergency room visit for a missing ben wa ball!).
"Um, honey? I couldn't keep the one ball inside of me, but, uh, the other ball? It, uh, is still in there somewhere, and I, um, well, I... I can't find it in there. I think it's stuck way up inside me. Can you help me get it out? Please? Now?"
So much for purchase #1. We still had two more purchases to try out.
We tried out the cream the next night. We read through the warnings and decided that we would try it out but make sure that he didn't use his mouth or cock down there, in case there was a reaction to the cream. I carefully applied the tiniest bit of the cream directly to my clitoris (with some helpful direction from my husband) - thinking about how it was going to speed up my time to orgasm (which really did need some help, after all) and bring me incredible pleasure.
"How's it feel?" he asked me.
"Hmm. Kind of like - ouch! Oooh. Not good, really." It felt like I was having an allergic reaction - burning, itching, uncomfortable. I was afraid that it would feel that way forever and was not in the least turned on. I hopped out of bed to get a wash cloth to wash the cream off.
So much for purchase #2. One more to go - the 'couple friendly' video. That weekend, after the kids were in bed, we plugged it into the DVD player and sat back to wait for the excitement to happen. I was pleased to see that there was a plot, with acting (pretty decent) and dialog (not too bad). The movie didn't just jump into a blow job like the traditional ones, we had to wait for it to be appropriate to the plot. I was pleased with my choice, as I watched the movie and waited for the sex. Then, I fell asleep...
So much for purchase #3. And back to the drawing board for me and my adventures.
