They always said that curiosity killed the cat. Too bad it didn’t just end in an orgasm. But after hanging out with my girlfriends this weekend, I was reminded about how normal masturbation is. I personally have never tried it, and always thought it to be slightly repulsive. Why pleasure myself when I can find someone else to have fun with? That way two people get to have satisfaction, not just me. Maybe I am just not selfish enough, maybe I just don’t myself the way I like others.
I have always had decent relationships, but they have only ever been mediocre. Nothing mind blowing, leaving me with fantasies and desires I would just wait to come true. But given my personality, all I would do is sit and wait and let things continue the way they always have been. Oh, I know how lame I can be, but making my loins quiver with the thought of excitement has become normal, and they are constantly being let down. And then, I told myself I would never get different results unless I changed something. But how was I supposed to live and explore while in a relationship? Well, a relationship I actually wanted to keep? Challenge accepted, and so the planning began. I would have to find times where I knew he wouldn’t be around, or be able to surprise me.
I have always had a certain connection with water, so I thought maybe a shower would be a good place to start. And it would be easier to overcome that feeling of being dirty. And I was home alone, no one to walk in, no one to interrupt, and no one to stop me. I started the water to get it warmed up while I grabbed my towel and stripped out of my clothing. I already felt vulnerable. My bare skin got goose bumps from the chill in the bathroom. My nipples become erect the instant the temperature change touched me. And I got butterflies for the first time in a while. I was both excited and nervous. Exhilarated and scared. What if I can’t pleasure myself, or can’t bring myself to cum? Will that ruin everything? What If I can, and decide my current sex life is illegal bahis dull? The anxiety and adrenaline clashed and I could feel my face blush as I pushed aside the curtains to step into the tub.
I closed the curtain behind me, and reached over to turn the water from the faucet to the shower head. As I did this, I stepped back as quickly as I could so I wasn’t sprayed with that first gush of cold water. I wrapped my arms around myself as a way to protect me. One arm was over my breasts, pressing them closer to me, and the other across my midriff. A hug if you will, that made me more aware of my nudity, and the fact that I was touching myself, a form of foreplay I had never considered. But before I could continue I wanted to prepare myself. So I slowly scrubbed my body, feeling the strokes of the loofah over my skin. Exfoliating, and exciting. The soap bubbling and lathering my entire body, making it smooth and slippery. Then I stepped into the flow of water, watching the water trickle down, slowly pushing the soap away. Each drop that ran over my breasts dripping off my nipples, and tickling them in a way I never noticed. My anxiety was slowly fading, along with the soap, as the water overtook my body, reclaiming it to itself. Next I washed my hair, turning my back away from the water. I allowed the water to massage my breasts, stomach and trickle to my inner thighs while I lathered my hair, and then turning to rinse it out. Feeling the water run down my spine, over my butt, and down my legs.
Next I needed to shave. An erotic activity in itself, if I had ever paid attention. I would bend over, caressing one leg while running y razor over my calf, then over my thigh. Then the next leg, each leg allowed me to run my hands up my legs and lightly brush my clitoris when working around my upper thigh. Next I had to shave my genitalia area. Paying close attention, and showing such precision and appreciation for my southern lips and clitoris. I had never known how often I stroke myself while shaving. illegal bahis siteleri And it suddenly became another form of foreplay, making my quiver with excitement. Slowly forgetting I had even been nervous before, I was ready to try something so new and daring. Something I would never have considered before.
I turned in to the water flow again. Running my hands through my hair, down my neck, over my shoulders, and slowed as I reached my breasts. I knew just how soft and supple they were, but never knew how much excitement I could get from sliding my hand over them slowly, pretending to pay no attention to my aching nipples. They were screaming for me to touch them, but I liked that yearning, that feeling of want. I let my hands continue.
Just under my breasts, applying the subtle pressure, and to my ribs, and stomach. Then to my sides, and hips. I slid them to my lower back, and felt that spot just above butt, at the very base of my spine, continuing down over my butt, to the top of my thighs in the back. Then back to the front, and to my inner thighs. Sliding up every so slowly, the water pooling above my hands, just enough to tickle my clitoris before pouring out. I removed my hands, and put them on my neck. My forearm brushing my nipples, which were still asking to be toyed with. And I gave in, completely.
One hand cupping my breast, one stroking my labia, and slightly brushing my clit. And I felt the rush of excitement and pleasure building. I couldn’t stop now. I couldn’t slow myself down, I wanted it to last, I wanted it to keep going, and building. I never wanted the dam to burst. But I had to keep going. I kept stoking and rubbing, massaging and twisting my nipple ever so lightly. I lifted my nipple to my mouth, licking it with the tip of my tongue. I trick I discovered as a spur of the moment. The water was only adding to the building tension. It tickled my stomach, running down the curve of my arm, pooling in my hand still. Tickling the nipple not in my hand. canlı bahis siteleri Everything was at attention, standing out as far as it could.
I had to force myself to not take a short cut. I continued only tickling my clitoris, as I slowly inserted my index finger, sliding slowly in. Deeper and deeper. I couldn’t get it deep enough. I wanted to be penetrated deep, and hard. I began pulsating, grinding my hips into my hand. My hand cupped my breast more. Groping it harder in anticipation. I couldn’t stand it! I inserted a second finger. That added girth made it fifty times more pleasurable. All I could do was let out a quiet groan. I had reached the point where I couldn’t possibly build anymore. And if I could, I wouldn’t want to. I had to cum. NOW.
Moaning, and grinding, my fingers furiously going in and out, tapping my clitoris with each motion. My other hand was furiously massaging my breasts, going back and forth. The water still running over my entire body, reminding me that something so subtle and soft could create more moisture, and make my tension so much more frustrating. This was the end. I couldn’t keep going. I stopped my hands on my breasts. I stopped grinding, and let one hand stay in me, penetrating myself over and over. All the while, the other hand massaged my clitoris. Forcing myself not press against them added that feeling of restraint. Excitement, adrenaline, and pleasure taking over. I felt the dam cracking. It was right on the edge. One of the most intense orgasms I had ever felt! I leaned back against the shower wall, and the chill ran down my spine, sending goose bumps everywhere, retightening my erect nipples. And there it was I came. The pressure was released. I couldn’t imagine stopping now, but I was tired, I was sufficed. I collapsed to the bottom of the tub, letting the water just run over my body, while I lay there, totally and completely pleasured. And I realized, I should never have been repulsed, should never have been scared. I should have done this long ago. And I began thinking of the next chance I had to try something new. Suddenly my fantasies become closer to reality, as I found myself slowly groping my breasts again. Too bad the water was cooling down. Some things were going to have to wait again.