Come’re

by rheeb

I love to come.

I love it.

I adore it.

Nothing on earth makes me happier.  Not even pizza, and I love pizza.  But coming?  Best. Thing.  Ever.  I love it.  I become this femme who has absolutely no inhibitions.  I moan and ache.  Oh, how the moans sound and the aches feel!  I hump.  I love to hump.  It’s a glorious thing.  I become full deep in my belly–pushing and pulling and feeling so damn good the entire time.  It’s a lovely thing.

So, until I was twenty-two, I never masturbated.  Well, that’s not completely accurate.  I had masturbated before then, but I never climaxed, which, as we all know, makes the whole thing worthwhile.  Anyways, when I was twenty-two, during a normal summer day in the Mid-Atlantic, it happened.  I was lying in my bed–bored–so I began to masturbate.  And I don’t know if I was particularly horny that day or if the Universe decided it was time for me to experience awesomeness, but that day, I began to masturbate, and I found myself in…a new place.  I was humping, as I usually did, but then, I felt this great need to push.  To this day, I’m not sure why, but I felt the need, and I began to push.  And it was in pushing that I had an explosive orgasm–so explosive that I began laughing uncontrollably.

Joy.

Sheer joy, it brought me.

And that day is when a new chapter began in my life.  I like to refer to it as “Chapter Two,” since nothing ever came close to that glorious feeling.  My only regret is that I waited so long to do it.  I’d been taught that masturbation equaled lust which equaled sin which equaled hell, so even when I would touch myself, I’d feel so guilty afterwards that I wouldn’t do it for months (and sometimes years) on end.  Damn shame.

I will say this, though.  When I was fifteen or sixteen, I used to watch this movie titled, “Bloodmoon.”  It was not a porno, but I would watch this movie over and over again.  And in the movie, there is this one scene where a woman at the carnival begins to eat cotton candy.  And I would get so turned on by that scene.  Thankfully, it was a DVD, so I would set the scene to A-B repeat and just watch it over and over again, and I would get so fucking horny, it was ridiculous.  And I would masturbate without climaxing, seemingly for hours.  Eventually, I began to feel so guilty about this, that I threw the DVD in the back of my notoriously junk-filled closet, so that I couldn’t watch it again and wouldn’t lust (and sin, and eventually go to hell).

After twenty-two, I have made a habit of masturbating until climax.  Sometimes it’s been OK, and other times, it’s just amaaaaaazing.  I have had multiple orgasms before, which, contrary to popular belief, takes some effort.  I have also come several times in a day.  My current record is five, and believe me, on those ovulation days, I try my hardest to make it to six.

I felt the need to share this.  Come’re.

Song of the Day: Dying to Be Alive by Hanson (“And we all come tumbling down…” 1:54)

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