Wankpiphany

I admit I had something far more philosophical in mind this morning, when I thought about writing this post. But waxing philosophically about an orgasm seems very unlike me.

It was a good orgasm though. A fucking great one, to be honest. How could it not be? I had been spending most of the night horning myself up with just too much Michael Fassbender pictures. I wrote the Azazeal poem in a fit of raging lust. Pretty sure some other stuff made me horny too, but I can’t remember. I think I was flirting with someone again. Sidenote, I get incredibly bawdy the later it gets. Promising stuff for next week at Erotic Meet.

Anyway, I sauntered upstairs, ready for my usual bout of multitasking at night. Mission: to watch Michael Palin’s (yes, still him. I’ve got enough of his stuff to last me two months.) Hemingway Adventure whilst successfully bringing myself to orgasm with the… pink.. thingy.

(Spoiler: I did. Twice.)

I forgot how loud the pink thingy was when I turned it on. I had to fight the urge to fuck myself with it and let it rest on my clit for a while. Holy mother of all kinds of everything, that was some kind of pleasure. I squirmed and writhed and get this… I giggled! I had a massive sharky grin on my face and giggled my way through it. It was the most joyful wank I have ever had. I partly blame Fass and his bastard-sharkface-get-in-my-vagina-now grin. The other part is just my utter excitement at the joy that is Erotic Meet next week. I want to snog everyone and maybe actually touch something this time? Boobiehug? Crotchgrab? Possibly both?

Anyway, back to last night.

I eventually did go pants off (I mostly masturbate with my pants on) and inserted the pink thingy. Combine that with frigging that spot just above my clit… and I just exploded. Right, boom. No Jilly. She has died and gone to post-orgasmic heaven.

She did revive long enough to die again and go to that special place called double post-orgasmic heaven.

In all seriousness, the second one was so deep and quick, it rendered me motionless for a fair few minutes. I lay there with my pants off, clutching TPT (the pink thingy), smiling like a moron. It was the best orgasm I ever had twice.

It inspired me to this piece of nonsense, which I swear sounded better when I wrote it. The soulless bit was me thinking that my soul had actually evacuated from my body from the sheer force of the orgasm.

Let me be soulless

Let me lie with acheing bones and throbbing cunt.

For tonight, I have laughed and cried….

and finally seen the stars.

 

This is kind of overreacted, in hindsight. But it was a pretty damn good orgasm though. Twice. And my cunt did throb for a good five minutes after.

Yep, Saturday mornings. Not just for watching cartoons anymore.

 

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