Tag Archives: clitoris

Touch me there

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So, I have covered the penis and the nipple. Any idea where I’m going today? It’s probably on the tip of your tongue – you can’t quite put your finger on it…

To mark today being the last day of International Clitoris Awareness Week I thought I would take a journey ‘down under’.  The word ‘clitoris’ is apparently also Greek for key and is seen as the key to female sexuality, no doubt unlocking the door to our pink caverns.

For someone who has been around the block at least twice, it may surprise you to learn that it has only been in the last four or five years that I have really enjoyed having a ‘bean’.

Before then, some attempts had been made to give it a good time, but few even bordered on a mild tingle, never mind a full-blown pulsating orgasm. At the beginning of my sexual adventures, I had an irrational fear of losing control – put it down to fear of the unknown or self-consciousness over how I might have looked if I let go. So I never allowed myself to come, pushing my lovers’ hands away when I felt my body start to spasm or pulling them up on top of me and forcing them inside if they had been munching the ‘furry burger’. I would usually lie and say I had climaxed and allow them to continue pumping until they exploded, assuming this was what everyone else did.

Funny how age and experience change things – and having sex with someone who is determined to share the bliss. I drifted through my married life in the same way I had previously – as soon as I reached a tingle, I would force him to get on with the rest of it, get it over and done with.

But (as you have already guessed) The Man changed this. He was determined to take me to the other side and persisted in pleasuring me until I reached the dizzy heights of climax, all 8,000 nerve endings included. My clit must have wondered what hit her. She had finger stimulation, a never-tiring mouth and tongue and sometimes a vibrator. The Man would also continue to work his busy fingers while he was inside me, feeling my vaginal walls squeezing him and my body juddering in spin cycle underneath him.

He also bought me my first vibrator so I could enjoy all this when I was alone. So my ‘bald man in a boat’ now leads a very active life, taking regular trips upstream and not complaining about getting his feet wet from time to time.

On the (school) run

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I walk briskly through the school gates, my head down, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the parents waiting outside. I also try not to stand too close to anyone, just in case they smell that I’ve recently downed two or three glasses of red wine. I tuck a bedraggled strand of hair behind my ear and try to appear normal, in control, sensible mum.

Does anyone suspect? Do I have a scarlet aura of sluttiness which only the virtuous and well-behaved can see?

Not ten minutes ago I was naked, my body shaking from top to toe in waves of bliss.

The Man had invited me over for lunch after a hiatus of several months. I wasn’t even sure if this was just lunch or ‘lunch’ but curiosity and a gaping hole inside made it impossible to turn him down. Even though it was one o’clock and I knew the two hours before the school run would melt away.

We ate, we talked, we drank red wine, his sky blue eyes drawing me closer and completely eradicating any resolve I had to keep my clothes on. As he took me upstairs, I ached for his already hard penis. By now it was already two o’clock…

He eased my breasts out of their wire and fabric cage, gently but firmly kissing and sucking my nipples as I stroked his solid erection and frantically unfastened his jeans wanting to feel it in my mouth.

I sucked and licked and nibbled from the smooth, shiny end to the harder, rougher trunk, trailing my tongue down the shaft, feeling him pushing it further into my mouth, wanting more and more… I briefly paused, searching the room for a clock – 2.15, forty-five minutes left…

As I slowly lay back on the bed, he followed me, kissing me, pulling off my jeans, finding my clitoris with his fingers, moving, lightly, faster, faster, faster. I closed my eyes as waves of a beautiful sea engulfed me, first little shallow peaks, then bigger waves, higher, crashing and lifting my body. ..2.25 – I needed him to enter me now, my hungry inner beast craved it and time was running out.

As he went in, I gasped with the satisfaction of someone having a drink after being thirsty for a very long time. Everything fitted together so well. His penis was like a hand in the right glove, the lid clicking on the pen, the missing jigsaw piece slotting into place.

We moved in harmony, as I felt him deeper inside me. As he flipped me over, I saw it was 2.35 – 25 minutes and so much still to do!

He pounded me harder, faster. I made him even faster as I rocked my hips backwards and forwards. My mind drifted as my insides yearned for him to never stop. But it has to! 2.45! I could barely speak, but managed to say ‘we have to stop!’

We rolled over and kissed softly. I was now on top of him and his lips felt so soft that I couldn’t tear myself away and I felt his still erect penis slowly slipping inside my now soaking-wet vagina. 2.55.

I jumped up – quick decisive action was the only thing for it. And a picture in my head of a tearful little girl, all alone after everyone else had gone. I quickly pulled my clothes on, not even checking a mirror to see what state I was in and ran down the road to school.