Ima call bullshit.
Actually Ima call Papayas.
I write BDSM porn and I gloss over the bits where I cum so hard that I start laughing and have to use the safe word because I am half ejaculating, half wetting the bed. It doesn’t translate well to a novel. Here its fine. Slightly embarrassing, but it’s life, these things happen. That is why trust is paramount.
I wrote this yesterday, and last night I posted this before I went to bed.
Figured it would either get ignored or explode in comments.
Small explosion.
Let’s be clear.
Pee is pee, ejaculate is ejaculate.
Doctors were curing ‘female hysteria’ with hysterectomies less than 60 years ago.
Medical science doesn’t put a lot of time or effort into our vaginas, so we have to.
Dick don’t work? Here are 500 different pills covered by insurance to fix that.
Pussy broke? No one cares.
I became sexually active around 15 years old. My partner was 22. It’s fine, put your pearls down. It was a very loving, consensual relationship and he did not take my virginity. But I wrote about all of this here.
https://www.ourladyoflustandgrace.com/hot-for-teacher.html
I lost my virginity rather drunk a year later, in a sleeping bag on the lawn behind the shittiest motel in town, to a boy who lied about his name and pretty much everything else.
I regret neither of these things. Except forgetting everything the first one taught me about being worth something better than drunken fumbling in a sleeping bag.
I saw my virginity as a childish sweater with unicorns on it that I’d outgrown, and I just wanted rid of the thing.
It was not magical. It was sweaty and damp and awkward but, I did have my first vaginal orgasm. Felt like fireworks in my belly radiating out. It was amazing for a minute, then back to sweaty messy yuck. But whatever.
The real travesty here was that it was my first orgasm and my last for the next 5 years.
I still had sex, I still enjoyed it. But something was always missing. There was a very definite feeling of frustration after.
I got pregnant with my son at 20. Moved to a big city, met a woman and started dating her. Not my first girlfriend, but my last.
Probably the 3rd or 4th time we were fucking, I squirted.
Of course, I thought I had wet the bed, and of course I was embarrassed, but I chalked it up to being 5 months pregnant. My body was doing all kinds of weird shit.
I apologized and offered to change the sheets.
“Why are you sorry?” She said
“You squirted.”
I what now?
She held her fingers to my nose and I smelled papayas, not piss. It was slippery and clear and abundant.
Which led to a long discussion about this new and exciting thing my body was capable of doing. And then she fucked me 10 more times and we really had to wash the sheets.
It felt goooood. Like the previous 5 years of sexual frustration was leaving my body in a fruit-flavored tidal wave.
Different kind of orgasm than the fireworks, but powerful and amazing regardless.
We broke up eventually and I didn’t squirt again for 10 years. I didn’t know how to do it on my own and my partners couldn’t figure it out either.
I had some good sex in there too, and some bad.
I have several kinds of orgasms now. From just warm and lovely, to opioid tingling, to black out, fireworks, tidal waves in varying combinations and intensity. Vaginas are awesome.
I learned how to maneuver my hips an inch to the left or up or down or wherever to get myself off. I became an active participant in my own pleasure. But I was always chasing those 2 sensations. The fireworks and the release.
It’s funny now, 30 years or 25 years, or 15 years later to look back and see what I considered good sex.
The majority of it wasn’t great.
But we don’t know until we know, you know?
I remember fucking a stripper one night and she was making all kinds of exorcism noises and after she sat bolt upright and said “what the fuck was that? It felt like fireworks.” I said, “that was an orgasm”. She said she had never had one before, I was 24, she was 27. See what I mean?
There were a couple of baby strippers talking about all the good dick they are getting. I didn’t say it out loud, but I know it isn’t great. I also wanted to serve them up to Wolf on a silver platter so he could show them what an orgasm is supposed to feel like, and so I could watch, but that is another story for another day.
I left my ex husband for a while in the middle there. Call it a midlife crisis, whatever. Found myself a much younger personal trainer Scorpio who was really good in bed. Fireworks and tidal waves.
I was doing dishes one morning in a sundress, he came up behind me and fingered me so vigorously I half squirted, and half peed all over the kitchen floor.
It is paramount to pee before and after sex for the record.
I have read the articles wherein they state ejaculate is urine.
It isn’t.
And I will tell you how I know. The opening paragraph of this article for one. I could feel the difference and had to say ‘donuts’.
And …
I read the review of this sex toy online, a lot of us did. We shared it around the internet like the map to the grail. I bought it a week later.
Please read this if you haven’t, it’s hilarious and true.
I am a seasoned sex toy veteran; I give myself tantric
orgasms all the time.
I travel the cosmos, leave my body, it’s spectacular.
Hum and thrum for hours afterwards.
I didn’t realize, before I met Wolf, that I was attaining some semblance of sub
space.
Now I have a partner that does this to me and it is beyond bliss.
But I am getting off topic.
I once jerked off 9 times a day for about 5 days straight
and thought I broke my clit and had to message my nurse friend to figure out
how to fix myself. The cure was to lay off my love button for a week and then
not jerk off 9 times a day for several days in a row.
The agreement on the 3rd floor of the girl’s house in Newfoundland
was, we left our doors open always for air flow, so if one of us shut our door,
we were jerking off, don’t listen and don’t knock ferfucksakes.
I peak at about 5 now, usually 3 and not every day. And I switch it up between different
toys. My little pocket rocket died recently, and I seriously had a funeral and I
really want to buy a new one, but I bought a too big butt plug instead.
Veteran I said.
Back to the pink holy grail of sex toys.
https://www.amazon.ca/Vibrators-Waterproof-Rechargeable-stimulator-Vibration/dp/B07GZHJ3NL
No big deal, I can handle this thing.
Oh no I cannot.
The first time I used it, I didn’t have the placement right. I came, but it was underwhelming for the hype.
I washed it off, put it back in the box and left it alone for a week.
Decided to try it again.
Ohmyfuckinggod.
Everything that happened to the lady in the review happened to me.
Leg cramps, blackout, seeing God, and ya, I squirted. Like soaked my mattress.
And, because this was new, I worried that I had wet the bed. It didn’t feel the same as the vigoroius digital penetration that usually makes me squirt. So, I checked…papayas. Okay good. Now, prolific amounts of laundry and a quick trip to Marshalls for a waterproof mattress cover.
Round 2.
The clitoral stimulation on this is just puffs of air, who knew?
The part inside isn’t that oddly shaped or big for that matter, but the combination of the puffing and the pulsing is godlike and intense.
It was the only toy I took with me to Florida and I regretted that. I was really fucking horny, talking to Wolf constantly but my vagina got bored with the pink thing halfway through, and since the town I stay in is 90% retirees, the closest sex store is 45 minutes away and really not that great.
So, since I have been home, I have barely used it.
Gotta switch things up.
I am coming off a really fucking bad period, about a week ago. I thought the world was ending and I could not stop crying. There was a black out drunk butt plug incident and I was not feeling sexy at all.
A few days ago, my libido came back from wherever she was vacationing and banged on the door really loud wanting to be let back in.
Out comes the pink toy and some weird hentai.
First orgasm in a while. Not bad.
Kinda want to go for round 2.
More weird hentai, and a slight struggle to get the placement right and shaZAM.
Now a couple things happened. My alarm went off on my phone and it pinged that Wolf had messaged, so I kinda stopped partway through ejaculating. Still a good orgasm. Everything was fine.
Messaged Wolf back.
Got cleaned up. Threw the dampish towels in the washer. Jumped in the jeep and headed out to run errands before the stores closed.
Found myself in the bedding aisle at Walmart looking for a duvet cover. Found one I liked but the queen size were on the tippy top shelf so I reach waaaaaaaay up, tip forward, hit my clit on a lower shelf and finish ejaculating right then and there. Like a lot. Like I am so glad my winter coat is long because I had to zip that fucker up because, yes, it looked like I peed my pants.
And, for a minute I thought I did.
My pelvic floor is strong, I do my Kegels. But Wolf is ultra super mega huge with the most delicious curve and he has been indulging me in a lot of squirting and a lot of really amazing rough sex and toy play as of late.
So, it’s possible there was some damage.
Get home, check.
Papayas.
So, that’s the story about how I came in Walmart.
And how I know ejaculate is ejaculate.
There’s Pornhub instructional videos.
In the immortal words of Douglas Adams
“A towel, [The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy] says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.”
Several towels.
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