As in, I got mine scratched. A lot.
It started with me begging for a second chance. I’d missed my orgasm for #30dayorgasmfun the night before, and his rule was, I miss a day, I don’t get to orgasm for a week. I sort of had an excuse: Adam had come over and we’d had lots of food and drinks and stayed up binge-watching Masters of Sex all night. By the time we drug ourselves up to bed, we literally fell over asleep.
But I begged and apologized and pleaded with him, and I think he knew how much I wanted to stay in the game, because he relented. I could continue the challenge – if I could manage FOUR orgasms this day.
Four?!? I wasn’t sure I could. But okay, I’m going to try.
- Right after his stipulation. I’m in bed with Adam that morning. I’ve just read the new rules in a text message on my phone. “Are you on orgasm-restriction?” he asks, laughing at my expression.”No,” I say, smirking a little because he shouldn’t be so gleeful at the predicaments I get myself into. “I get to have orgasms.”He raises his eyebrows. “And…” he says, because he knows V as well as I do.
“Ok ok,'” I say. “There are stipulations.””Ha!”I roll my eyes at him. “I gotta have FOUR before the day is over,” I say. He grins. “Let’s start now.”Orgasms with people are allowed, as long as I “call” them, like in pool. “Orgasm in the wet pussy, your fingers in the pocket,” or something like that.
I called it. With my new black, waterproof Baldy (hitherto known as “BB”), and his lovely fingers caressing the folds of my labia, I have the first orgasm. And then another one, with him curled around behind me like a comma, this time with my original Baldy, that old soldier of a sex toy, rocked gently between my legs as he thrust into me from behind. That one doesn’t count though.
- Before V arrives. That day, I bring BB and a blanket with me to work, hopeful that I might manage one at lunch time in my car. Work is insane though, and it doesn’t happen. So. He’s coming over for dinner and to stay the night, so just before I have to put dinner on, I excuse myself from the kitchen, where I’ve been talking with the roommate. “I, um, gotta go do something…” (lamest excuse ever.) And then I go upstairs and fulfill the rules for my orgasm from the night before: in “hiding”, with BB. I lay on the floor on the far side of the bed while the roommate is one floor below, getting ready for a date. Can she hear BB’s rumble through the floor? I don’t know, and soon I don’t care, as I read snatches of “Beauty’s Release,” spread my legs wide on the arm of my easy chair, I fuck myself into an orgasm imagining poor Beauty being carried on a litter through the town with her legs spread and her sex exposed for all to see…
- After dinner. We have a lovely dinner and I am feeling accomplished in the girlfriend department and happy as we snuggle on the couch, watching TV. But the clock is ticking, and I know I gotta get on it if I’m to succeed.BUT OMG IT’S EMBARRASSING.I know, I know. He and I have fucked ourselves silly in all manner of ways. He’s seen me do all kinds of dirty things. And I still feel embarrassed about telling him I need to go jerk off. He doesn’t make it any easier. Makes me spell it out and then watches me go upstairs with a smirk on his face. I hide behind my closet door, expecting him to show up at any moment. He doesn’t. It takes a while, but I finally come, my legs trembling.
- Before bed. We’ve retired to bed. I gotta do it, but of course he makes me ask, then tells me where: on the floor behind my easy chair. I figure, as I slide my fingers over my clit, that he has fallen asleep while I do it. But I hope, secretly, that he is listening. And the thought of him laying in bed, hearing me, his cock hardening, is what finally tips me over the edge to Number Four.
And…he hasn’t fallen asleep. His cock is hard, and he pulls me on top of him, and I rock and roll us both to another orgasm.
Heh…two men in one day. I’ve got a well-used and happy pussy. I definitely got my itch scratched.
Apparently, people way cooler than me know this term. I mean, it’s right there in the Urban Dictionary, 24th definition (right after someone’s mom’s name and a whole lot of, entries for strong, sassy, accomplished women, or, conversely, a man’s hand when he masturbates):
Another name for women pleasuring themselves with their fingersThat girl jills every night!