I, Arielle: My Sex Diary

Even since I started really slowing down in my professional life I didn’t really enjoy either a party or a male partner. Last night I had both! It’s a rather long story and I was so drunk I’m not sure I remember everything right, but here it goes.

One of my friends gave a reception at her house like she does a few times every year, although every time in the past I had declined, but this time I gladly accepted. Of course her telling me there might be handsome single men helped me make up my mind, otherwise I might not have bothered; too much people, noise and cigarette smoke for my taste. Oh, and since her house isn’t that big, we end up stepping on each other’s toes all the time.

I forgot all of that at my first glance at that young, handsome guy just showing up at the front door with his grey costume and his bottle of wine. Twenty something, tall, with light, black hair, hazel eyes, cute face, charming smile, nice build even through his clothes, cool gait… and he seems to be alone! He shook a few hands at the entrance and then comes my way. He passes me by, but we then have a few seconds to stare at each other. I didn’t know how to approach him. Fortunately he came to me instead.

It was a bit difficult to chat in that cluttered, noisy living room (and what’s with that boring, loud music anyway? can’t we turn it off please?), so instead of screaming all the time we ended up closing on each other, almost muttering into each other’s ear. There I learn we have a lot in common, starting with the fact that he works for… a competitor. Yep, he is an accountant too. We share a lot, like our love of good wines, novels, classical music, travels and whatever makes the financial world so fascinating. I learn he knows german and he travels there from time to time. He told me a lot of his stories, and in his eyes I felt like he would have wanted to show me as well. And he asked of me before I could tell him on my own. He’s a very forward person, open, honest, romantic, perhaps a bit bold but…

So we drank a lot and talked a lot. We were getting closer, both physically and mentally. We were close enough to smell and kiss each other in the neck. We pretended to dance so the otherwise obvious wouldn’t be so striking. It was the first time, drinking or not, that I was so open with a man. I just wanted to go somewhere private with him, right now; to hell with my reservations and what others would think. I could feel he desired me as well. We were so close, I could feel his erection. He was so hard, and likely so big! And his touch was so electric! His hands slid to my buttocks and cupped them. Could anybody see? I didn’t know if I should do something, but I just wanted them to remain right where they were. Besides, there were so many people bumping against each other on that floor I doubted anybody would pay attention. Quite bold myself, I pressed my body against his own, letting him feel my chest. Did he feel just the same as when I felt his erection? Apparently so, since we then stared into each other’s eyes and couldn’t let go. We desired each other so badly. We wanted out. Now.

Actually, we made the suggestion at the same time. I thought he would lead me out some place but instead we fled to the basement. He was gently pulling my hand, walking backward so we could still look at each other, even in the stairs. Down there we bursted out laughing, then he showed me to a somewhat spacious closet where we could have some intimacy. So we leaved the lights out, got in and closed the doors behind us, making ourselves comfortable among the clothing. We couldn’t see a thing, but we could feel each other. He pressed me against the wall, then himself against me. We tried to find each other’s lips in the dark using our fingers. We both cup our hands on each other’s chin. We closed on each other, our lips making contact. Not too fast! He explored my lips for a moment, then kissed me passionately, grabbing my hair and so did I. We keep kissing, cuddling, pressing ourselves against each other, feeling each other’s desire. I ran my hands on his large, strong back, pressing my chest against his, exciting him while feeling his own which must have excited me even more. I put my chin on his shoulder and he reached my neck, kissing, caressing. His legs were making their ways between mine. That’s where I wanted to stop.

“You really want to do it here?” I asked.

Then we bursted out laughing again. Of course we wanted to. But…

“You don’t happen to have one, do you?” he muttered into my ear.

“What are you talking about?” I replied.

“You know what. I… think I forgot to bring one.”

Shoot. I didn’t either. So we’re there in each other’s arms, ready to strip each other and perform the most daring lovemaking experience, and we happen not to have a condom. How pathetic. We agreed on going out and find some sex shop that was still open (all drugstores were closed; it was getting quite late), then a more intimate place. Surprisingly, he still wouldn’t let go of me, resuming kissing, then unbuttoning my shirt. I wondered what he was up to, but didn’t dare to ask him and ruin everything. He told me he wanted to warm me up first (whatever he had in mind). He is darn good at it! I don’t remember much nor could I see anything of what he did to me, but I could certainly feel it. During the next twenty minutes of so he skillfully stripped me half-naked, rubbing my breasts, fondling my skin with his powerful hands and fingers, making me even wetter that I already was. I felt his breath and his lips on my skin, on my undies. He didn’t remove my bra but it started to hurt a bit so I did myself, then he tasted my breasts directly. I didn’t want to moan in public but I couldn’t help myself. If anyone came down they would certainly hear! I removed his jacket, then bit into his shoulder as his hand went down between my legs. He wanted to remove my soft, silk panties but I told him not to. I didn’t want him to touch me down there with his bare fingers, but I hoped he would be clever enough to rub me through my panties, something I had wanted to try for a while. He did. I almost jumped on him, pressing him on the wall, humping his hand, kissing him in the mouth and moaning into it as well, holding his head into my full hands, brushing his hair with my fingers. We fell on our knees, still kissing furiously. His fingers moved faster on my lips and swollen clit, so skillfully. The contact of silk rubbing on my genitals was so pleasurable, more than I anticipated. His touch was divine, putting just the right pressure, making just the right moves.

I no longer had enough breath to keep kissing and I let go of a louder moan, louder than I should have. Would they hear up there? It only added to my excitation as I started laughing at the same time I was moaning. I was getting more aggressive, like every time I drink, so him just touching my crotch was no longer enough. I started to hump his tight instead. I certainly surprised him with this move, just as I was surprised when after a while I felt him grind my side. Feeling his erection increased my pleasure tenfold and I huddled him up even more intensely. We moved together, moaned together. I couldn’t help laughing between two groans, thinking of the situation, but soon I forgot as I sensed my orgasm build up. He said something I didn’t understand, but his voice was so erotic to my ears it didn’t matter. We kept going, and I heard him groan and he moved faster and so did I. At this point I couldn’t speak any more and I was getting so loud I had to bite into his shoulder once more, then tried the back of his neck. I heard then felt him come on me, his strokes getting more jerky, and that was enough to make me climax as well. The scream came out regardless of my precautions. I ground him even more powerfully that I thought I could, lasting my pleasure for as long as possible.

Then we both rested. Silly me, I started to cry again, on his shoulder. He enlaced me and we remained there for a while without moving. He told me I excited him so much earlier that he couldn’t resist me. Of course, sooner or later he had to ruin the moment by saying he had to clean himself up but I understand how it must be like. We kissed each other and got out, then I put my clothes back on as fast as I could. I wanted to go to the bathroom with him but resisted the urge. I imagined him cleaning himself from the pleasure I gave him. I fantasized about how his penis would be, even how it would feel like when he finally fills me. My mind was running wild across his naked body. Finally he came out, and we fled outside without even telling anyone.

It was quite cold outside, and it felt even colder after such a warm exercise. We held each other while he called for a taxi with his cell phone (we were still drunk, after all). Then we drove to the very same sex shop I went earlier, that I knew was still opened until 3PM. Eric told me to wait for him, that he wouldn’t be long. Whatever. It felt like an eternity anyway. Then he came back and we asked the driver for the best and (being drunk and childish) the most quiet hotel in town, and there we go. I don’t remember much about that part, only that I would have devoured him even on the back seat of the car. I must have told the driver a dozen time to drive faster while laughing and every time he smiled and said “yes, ma’am!”. We both gave him the biggest tip he probably ever received.

We resisted the urge to fuck right there in the hotel’s hallway, waiting until we had reached a room instead. For a moment I was nervous, wondering if there were any vacancies, or if they still rented rooms at this late hour, but everything went smoothly. So we took the elevator up to the… oh well, I don’t remember the floor but it was ten something. I thought about doing it right there in the elevator, and so did he (I think), but it was better to wait for the bed. It must have taken my lover one minute to open the door, but I certainly wasn’t helping. Finally, we got inside the room and closed the door. He pressed me against the wall right there like he did in the closet and kissed me again. Then I passed my legs around his waists while he lifts me and carries me to the bed, still kissing of course. He laid me on the bed, then removed his coat, jacket and shirt, finally revealing his bare skin! And he has the sexiest body I have ever seen! Strong arms, pectorals and abdominal muscles, elegant grayish hair on his chest. Then he laid down on me and kissed me again passionately. We didn’t need much foreplay but wanted some anyway.

We must have kissed and cuddled forever. We wanted to go on but couldn’t. I can still feel his hand brushing my untied hair, his mouth everywhere on my face, neck, shoulders. I remember the feeling of my hands running on his skin, exploring the curves of his muscles. I still can’t believe there are guys like that anywhere in the real world. He’s so athletic! Even there I wondered if he felt the same about me, I’m not sure. But I was too drunk to worry. At some point I took the initiative, turning him over on his back, and attacked his chest, breathing, kissing it, brushing his hair. He put his hands on me, still caressing my hair while I relished his skin with my tongue. It had been quite a while since last time I had tasted a man, let alone a real one! He was definitely enjoying that, especially when I reached his hairy belly button while unbuttoning his pants. I heard him groan and felt his hands squeeze me harder. He liked that, but I didn’t want to go down on him, at least not too quickly. So I sat on his abdomen and guided his hands to my chest. He wanted to unbutton my shirt like every gentleman would but I grabbed his wrist and pulled down quickly, making his fingers pop up all buttons at once (I was really drunk). I bended over him and muttered something like “Attack me baby!” and “Devour me!”… could I really say that? I’m usually so shy when I’m sober, and look how aggressive I was a bottle of wine and a few ounces of gin later!

Whatever. I didn’t need to say it twice. I almost thought he would bite my jugular like a vampire and shred my flesh like a werewolf. I bet right then he knew exactly what I wanted. He tacked me against the mattress and ate my breasts, pulling the demi-bra down instead of unbuckling it. He said something like “You like that babe, say you like it!” and I couldn’t help approving him, answering “Oh yeah, keep it on!”, clutching him as hard as I could, although he might not have felt anything since I’m not very strong. I closed my eyes for a while, feeling his grasp on me and his mouth sucking my breasts, and then opened my eyes again, staring at the ceiling, bursting out laughing. I groaned, then moaned, then screamed as he was doing it harder. I could sense the texture of his tongue, but also his teeth. His way of half-biting me was the most exciting, savage foreplay experience I ever had with any lover. I knew he desired me very intensely.

He turned me over on my stomach then massaged and tasted my back pretty much the same way I enjoyed his chest. His hands sometimes slid to my sides and even teased my breasts. Meanwhile I just enjoyed myself, closing my eyes. When he slipped his hands under me and resumed massaging my breasts, while his knee forced its way between my legs, I moaned into the pillow, biting it. About a minute later, he turned me on my back and went down on me, pulling down my pants after unbuttoning them with his teeth. He teased my inner thighs a bit then removed my long soaked panties and ate my pussy furiously. I couldn’t help screaming while arching my back at the powerful contact of his tongue on my clit. Oh yeah, that’s it. I put my hands on his strong neck, pressing his mouth harder against my crotch. He was so good at it. Sadly, he almost ruined everything when he started to finger me at the same time. I had to push him back because of the discomfort and tell him not to do that. He nodded, perplexed, then resumed his duty. Each of his lick sent a chill up to my neck. I could no longer breathe normally, nor even look up at the ceiling since I was so much arched backward I was rather facing the upper section of the wall behind instead. I felt my sweat run down my chest and stomach to my sides and between my legs, and also some dropping from under my thighs. The pleasure he was providing me was so intense that my body was quivering. I felt cold because of the sweat, but also because of the wind from outside and just realized it somehow had been left half opened. I started to raise my pelvis and move it, and he clenched my bottom to support me. I love to be raised a bit like that while eaten. I tried to tell him that I liked that but all I could do was moan louder and louder, press him harder against me and tense my muscles even more. I was about to come. I screamed and shook with joy. As usual, I had this feeling I would never be delivered, that the release wouldn’t happen. And then I came, arching my back even more, screaming, pushing my pelvis toward him like my pussy was an offering to him, pulling his hair, moaning a bit between two screams, bearing a mind-blowing orgasm that never seemed to stop. Even after I fell back on the bed, he wouldn’t leave, drinking my abundant juices while I was catching my breath.

Then he got on his knees, raised my legs and removed my socks, sucking my toes. That’s when I first saw his huge cock pointing its head out of his underwear. All I could say is “Wooow…” (I really said it!). I got on my knees myself and pulled his pants and underwear down, that he removed and threw away while I stroked and tasted his huge, moist penis. It was definitely the largest I had seen, even slightly larger (and mightier) than my Lynx-Titanium vibrator. I also held his balls and brushed the hair all around. That’s where he pulled a condom outside the box, broke the envelope and put it into my hand, closing my fingers on it. Right, I knew what to do with it. I pulled his skin down, then slowly rolled the preservative down while sucking the head of his penis. I wondered for a moment if even an XXL would fit him but it went down just fine. I wanted to resume where I left but he had other plans, pushing me back on the bed, then pulling up my legs over his shoulders and inserting his member deeply into me, thrusting quite fast, violently hitting my cervix every time. I was afraid it would hurt but it was alright. No man even went that deep inside me before and it excited me. But the best thing is how he actually filled me. Each thrust pushed the walls of my vagina far more than I was used to. Yet it wasn’t painful, only more intense. I rested my head on the pillow, closing my eyes, feeling him inside me, feeling pleasure invading me, my orgasm slowly building up. I could hear him grown from his own pleasure, the wet sound of intercourse, of my fluids glossing his erect member. I couldn’t help reaching and squeezing my breasts. Of course I was moaning, as much as my difficult breathing would allow. He said something like he liked to hear me moan between two of his own moans (I like to hear a guy’s pleasure). His pace quickened, and so did his breathing. I wondered if he could hold long enough for me to come too, but I felt it coming at this very moment, that sweetness inside me. I told him to go harder while I was still able to speak. I screamed and shook when he changed his angle of penetration, stimulating more sensitive areas. Yeeesss… I started to move the best I could too to accompany him while squeezing my breasts even harder, planting my nails inside my flesh like I use to do, moaning, screaming, shaking my head, bending it backward. There it was… OH FUCK! I didn’t think I could arch my back in that awkward position but somehow I managed to do it, that explosive orgasm commanding it. I screamed even louder, shook then shivered, curling my toes, my pelvis making erratic thrusting movement and so was the rest of my body as I couldn’t stand in place, completely out of control, overwhelmed by pleasure and joy spreading in pulses and waves throughout my body to its farthest extensions. It lasted long enough for me to run out of breath, gasp then resume moans and screams for a few more seconds until I could finally rest, exhausted.

I opened my eyes to watch the sweet expression on his face as he was about to come himself. I moved my legs down to his sides and clenched him around his waist with them, enlacing him with my arms, and pulled him down toward me, so close our foreheads would almost make contact. Feeling him so close to me, so close to climax was ecstatic. He groaned and moaned louder, his eyes getting really cute. Right before he came his thrusts became jerks, and then he had spasms as he gasped, thrusting more slowly but more violently, coming inside me, expelling his semen. Then he stopped, resting on me a bit, all sweaty, catching his breath. We stared at each other for a long, blissful moment. I caressed him, still feeling him penis inside me. I told him I loved him, and he answered with a long, passionate kiss. I couldn’t help crying, as usual. He noticed tears running on my cheeks of course, but before he could ask I rolled over him, kissed him back and rested my head on his shoulder, asking him to enlace me. And so he did. And we rested like that a bit more, in each other’s arms. He finally asked me why I was crying but I didn’t bother to answer. He turned me on my back, kissed me, then drank my tears. I believe this is the most romantic thing a man ever did to me. We couldn’t help kissing each other for perhaps an hour after that while cuddling. It was so sweet.

I thought many times we would resume lovemaking but we fell asleep in each other’s arms instead, tired and, well, drunk, don’t forget. When I woke up my head was still spinning. It was morning already. He had already gotten up and got dressed, but he stayed there, sitting on the chair, watching me sleep completely naked.

“You’re so lovely,” he told me.

I didn’t know what to answer. I got up, leaned over him and kissed him. “Last night was wonderful,” I said, putting my forehead on his, my hands behind his neck, kissing him again. Then I sat on him and we enlaced each other, leaning my head on his.

“Tell me, why is it that such a charming male like you doesn’t have a girlfriend?” I asked for no apparent reason.

Quite the bold question. He sighed. “I’ve never managed to keep one for long because of my schedule.”

Sounded like something I could have said myself.

“I don’t mind that. I’m quite busy myself.” Then I added: “Will you spend the day with me?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go before noon”, he replied. “I have to be in Munich tonight.”

Now I was the one sighing.

“Will you call me at least?” I asked.

“Of course I will,” he reassured me. Right then he gave me his business card. I grabbed a ballpoint pen in his pocket and wrote down my own number on my panties, which I gave him. He smelled them, then folded them and put them in a pocket of his jacket. As he was about to leave, we kissed each other goodbye, although we couldn’t let go of each other until another ten minutes or so. Once he had finally left, I took a long, hot shower, almost falling asleep in there. I still couldn’t believe last night. It was so wild, so passionate. He was perfect. I just hope I can have him for myself, regardless of the risks for my career (my boss wouldn’t appreciate if he knew I was sleeping with someone working for the competition, but to hell with that). I think I love him. Do you believe in love at first sight? I fell for him the moment I saw him, something that had never happened before. Like we were meant to be together.

I can’t wait to meet him again.

This happened back when I was 17. My boyfriend Ben and I went to his house one afternoon of July while nobody was home. We were already kissing furiously passing the doorstep. He was supposed to take my virginity that day but little did he know about that and I was way too embarassed to admit it.

Ben was one year older than me. He was very cute, tall, brown hair, well built and I had been suspecting for a while that his cock was superb as well. I had been dreaming about him for weeks before we started going out (and eventually making out) and I knew he had his eyes on me as well. I would often go watch his football games and even a few training sessions.

We climbed the stairs, me going first backward, unable to take our hands off each other’s bodies. Then he guided me to his room and laid me down on his bed. We didn’t even bother to close the window since we were on the second floor. We kissed and caressed longer and more intensely. He liked to brush my hair with his fingers, stare into my eyes, then kiss my eyelids, my cheeks, my neck. He was pressing himself against me, but I hesitated to do the same. I must have been so clumsy for my first time under a guy! But he didn’t seem to care. Desperate to save face nonetheless, I went down to his waist then pulled up his shirt, revealing his strong, hairy chest. He dominated me for a couple seconds when I could take a very good look at him half-naked, then falling back on me, pressing his erect member through his pants against my stomach.

Quite unexpectedly, he resumed kissing while pulling my arms above my head and holding them there. I didn’t understand why he moved a bit up to kneel until he had handcuffed my first wrist to the bed, and on with the second, so skillfully, without even needing to look at what he was doing. What the hell was he doing? I didn’t care much after all, I was way too much into it for that. His mouth slid to my neck, then to my chest, unbuttoning my shirt, kissing, breathing on my wet skin. He had removed my bra before I had realized it. I couldn’t believe how experienced he was! Compared to him, I was nothing but a timid virgin.

He knew too well that to do with a pair of breasts. Soon I couldn’t contain my moans as he kissed, massaged, licked, then squeezed my breasts gently but firmly, running his teeths on my erect nipples, sucking them. I wanted to hold him so badly but I was bound to the bed. It felt like he would explore my breasts forever. That doesn’t mean he neglected the rest of my body though, his hands taking great care of that. His touch made me shiver, especially when he reached my sensitive flanks. I moaned, groaned, laughed even more when he went further and pulled down my pants. He teased my wet pussy through my panties, then my inner thighs, then down to my feet, massaging them, sucking my toes. He was so good, far more than I had naively dreamed of.

Then he gently pulled down my panties and dived right between my legs, licking my pussy, pulling my lips, then sucking my swollen clit. Oh my god! I gasped and pushed my pelvis toward his mouth. The feeling of a man’s tongue is bliss and I literally begged him for more between two moans, while he lifted me high with a firm grasp on my buttocks, my legs over his shoulders. More, more! Tension was building up inside, I was feeling it. I closed my eyes, quivered, arched backward, moaned, screamed, gasped then screamed more, curled my toes, opened my legs wider. Oh yes! That’s it… His tongue was so sweet, so powerful, each of its moves sending waves of pleasure down my spine. I wanted to reach my breasts but I couldn’t, what didn’t stop me from pulling on my cuffs, on the edge of fainting from being unable to accelerate the process. It was lasting forever, driving me mad.

At some point I couldn’t even moan. I wanted to come so badly! I couldn’t believe it was taking that long, standing on the edge, but I knew it couldn’t take much longer. I felt it go beyond the point of no return, then I shivered as I finally climaxed in his mouth. I screamed, releasing the accumulated tension of what must have been half an hour of intense stimulation, shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. Then I begged him to stop, crying.

Good timing, I must say, as we heard a car entering the garage. His parents were back home early! He quickly released me, then I grabbed my clothes and ran to the bathroom while he put his shirt back on, just in time before they came inside. That was very close! I had never been that scared before in all my life. What a wonderful moment ruined, by the way. He would have to take my virginity another day. I can’t tell if I felt more disappointed or relieved, though. Perhaps I pitied Ben even more… I owed him one, but that’s another story.

Last night I experienced the most embarassing moment of my life. Thank goodness it shouldn’t ruin my career though.

I may own the most fabulous bath, but I don’t even have something as basic as a detachable shower head. However, we have one at work. The shower itself consists only of a small cabin, but it’s in a separate room that offers quite a great deal of privacy. So when I spend the night at work and there is no longer anybody else on that floor, I most often take a shower to relax, usually before I go take a nap on a couch. During the latest months, I didn’t miss a chance to use the shower head to pleasure myself. The feeling of the hot water jet running on my pussy drives me crazy.

Yesterday, I had even brought my Dolphin vibrator in my purse in anticipation. I had to complete an urgent report for the day after, so I would sleep over at the office. But at 2AM I couldn’t concentrate any longer, both because I was getting tired and because I was pretty sure I was all alone. I opened my bag, containing my towel, cloth, soap, lotion, shampoo and a change of clothes, and put the vibe into it, then I went straight to the shower room and locked myself inside. A good release would help me sleep soundly.

I was particularly excited because it was the first time I tried a vibe under the shower. I was certain it would feel great. I stripped naked while letting the shower heat up (and the room steam up), then got inside. I started by washing my hair, once, then twice. Then I took a soft cloth and sensually washed my body, from head to toe. I don’t think I missed a single spot, even my eyelids or my very sensitive perineum. I proceeded slowly, gently, feeling the water run on my skin, the cloth tease my genitals, my hands caress my breasts. I was getting relaxed enough to fall asleep in the shower, but at the same time too excited not to proceed further.

I detached the shower head and turned the massager on. I adjusted the jet, close to the strongest setting, just the way I like it. Then I would pass it over my body, starting with my neck, shoulders, arms, flanks, chest, stomach, inner tights, then back to my buttocks. Strangely, I couldn’t resist trying into my anus. Then I would run the jet between my legs over my perineum, then my lips, stopping there for a while, enjoying the wave of pleasure spreading around, closing my eyes, caressing my breast. Then I moved the shower head right on my clit, hand between my legs from behind. Oh my, have to turn down that thing just a bit. Yeah, that’s it. It sent chills up my spine and weakened my knees. I leaned on the wall, slowly sliding down, spreaded my legs wide and supported myself with my knees pressing on the opposing walls (the cabin is quite small). I moved my pelvis up and down, running the jet on my clit, then down to my lips, my tights, back up to my stomach, slowly back down to my impatient clit, brushing my pubic hair with my fingers. I had planned to tease myself like this for quite a while and so did I. I resisted sticking the jet on my clit for too long or grab the vibrator for as long as I could. Desire would win me over soon as I could no longer contain my moans and groans. I fell on my knees, the cord fortunately being just long enough to keep going in that position. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the wall, supporting myself with my free hand, bending further forward, staring at my crotch, feeling my orgasm building up down there past the point of no return. Oh, yes, that’s it. Yeah. I was about to explode. I couldn’t take any more. I was quivering, my pussy was throbbing, the hand holding the shower head was shaking, the other hand pushing me back and then holding my breast, my moans covering the sound of the jet, my bottom grinding against the wall, my legs spreading even further apart. I couldn’t withhold my screams any longer as I came, eyes closed but rolling backward, my entire body shaking, my pelvis pulsing forward.

It felt good, but I had been only warming up. For the next round, I turned on the Dolphin and inserted it deeply inside myself, then resumed using the jet on my clit, this time from the front. The feeling was so strong that I involuntarily leaped and hit the wall behind. I couldn’t believe neither the pleasure nor how fast I got back on my feet (sort of) without even meaning it. I couldn’t help moving my pelvis, pressing the shower head hard on my crotch, sort of thrusting the vibrator inside without using my hands by squeezing with my legs. I used my other hand to stroke my clit, then squeeze my breasts, then caress my stomach, brush my pubic hair. I would come much faster this time. My breath became instantly deeper and heavier, then rapidly quickened, turning into groans, then into moans.

Suddenly, I heard the door open. One of my female colleagues just popped in, even though I thought I had locked the door properly earlier (I learned afterward that the lock was completely worn out and that just slightly pushing on the door worked). There was only a glass separating up and she could obviously see enough through the steam to know what I was doing. Besides, I kept moaning for a couple seconds before I was able to get a grip on myself and throw the shower head away. I panicked and quickly bursted out of the shower in shock, grabbing my towel and putting it around my chest and waist, facing my stunned colleague then stepping back. I tried to say something else than “I’m sorry” but this is about all that came out. I was both embarassed beyond description and completely terrified. Then I fell on my knees and bursted into tears. How could that be happening? Oh, I had to stand up again to remove the vibrator I had somehow managed to leave inside my vagina without realizing it. How stupid of me.

Quite unexpectedly, she smiled, then bursted out laughing, probably not knowing what to do herself. “Don’t worry, that’s alright. That’s alright”, she reassured me, both hands on my shoulders. “Come now. It’s no big deal.”

“I was sure I was alone I swear,” I cried.

“Well, so did I,” she admitted. She looked quite a bit embarassed herself. “Look, nobody likes to get caught. It can happen to anyone. It’s not a reason to react like this. I won’t tell anyone. Besides…”

She paused, looking down for a few seconds, hesitating. Then confessed:

“If I had come here half an hour earlier, you might have been the one catching me up. You’re not the only one using the shower head. I didn’t come to take a shower this late at night because I felt dirty, you know.”

Wow. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Even though it just makes sense.

“And this,” she continued, taking out an Oral-B electric toothbrush from her bag, “wasn’t to brush my teeth either. Neither is this toothpaste,” she added, now taking out a KY Jelly tube. “We all need a stress reliever, and this one is just as good as any.” She took a look down to my Dolphin, then commented: “I must admire your courage though. I never dared to bring a real vibrator at work. I’m too scared that anyone would find out, especially the men, or my boss.”

I started to recover from the shock. These words helped a lot. It was a shame I couldn’t find a better way to react, though. Now that I think about it, I feel so stupid. “Thanks,” I muttered. I just couldn’t come up with anything else.

“No problem,” she repplied, turning off the shower and putting the head back into place. “Let it be our little secret. Just so you know, I overheard the latest intern jilling off in her cubicle during work hours, and that’s not just her; almost every girl here does. Now that’s a firing offense. I say hard workers like the two of us should have priviledges, don’t you agree?”

I couldn’t believe that either. Not only was she open, she was just so bold. Or perhaps she was a bit guilty to have startled me like that and tried to make up for it, especially since roles could have been reversed. Regardless, she was saying the truth, and I had just been too clueless all that time to notice.

“I’ll let you finish yourself off,” she said, blinking. “Just tell me when you’re over.” I declined, but she insisted and left without further argument. And just before closing the door behind her, she shouted: “By the way, there’s only the two of us left in the office. No one is going to hear you.” Meaning: Moan to your heart’s content.

Of course I couldn’t resume where I left after this… or so I thought. I ended up going back into the shower after a few minutes of shivering and hesitation and spent another twenty minutes there, coming twice during that time, allowing the stress of this latest event to fade away through bursts of pleasure. Then it was her turn, and she spent half an hour in there. I thought I was a shameless moaner, but that’s nothing compared to her I swear. I could hear her scream all that time from the break room at the other side of the building. That must be the toothbrush, I guess… just kidding. I slept like a baby after that. I think that’s the last time I masturbate at work, though. I almost had a heart attack.

Last night I’ve tried my newly acquired Lynx-Titanium vibrator. Rating preview: A+.

I like to linger in the bath for hours. Also, I am fortunate enough to own a bath spacious enough to warrant comfortable self-play. Now that I owned a waterproof vibe, I had no excuse. I had to give it a try. So I filled the bathtub with very hot water (that’s the way I like it) while undressing. I was getting wet only at deciding which head I would mount on top of the vibe, because there were three; I settled for the most simple one since it was my first time with it. I dropped it in the bathtub in order to let it warm up. Oh silly me, I forgot to put batteries in. So I take it back (the water is really hot!), run back to my room, unwrap a pack of batteries, come back to the bathroom and put them into the Lynx. Testing; it works. I put it back into the tub.

I lit some perfumed candles and closed the lights. Perfect. Then I got into the tub… slowly (it’s truly hot!), until I sit down, the water level above my breasts. Then I laid back, head on cushion, and rest for a while. Feels good…

Let’s check the vibe now. It was just as hot as the water. Still, it was too early for this. Time for foreplay. I started by caressing my neck, then my chest down to my breasts. Soon they were hard, nipples erect, begging for more. And I gave them more, and more. For several minutes I massaged them, teased my nipples, feeling warmth and tingling invade my stomach. Sometimes one hand would slip below, down to my waist, then to my inner tights, teasing my pussy, then slide back up. I couldn’t swear it but I think I’ve felt my juices flowing out into the water. I was getting hornier as time passed, resisting the urge to reach my crotch as long as I could. I got bolder and drove myself crazier, moaning in anticipation.

When I knew I couldn’t take it anymore, I backed off and put my hands out of the tub, then rested. For a whole minute my pelvis would made sporadic thrusting movements on its own. Then it stopped. I knew I wouldn’t cool off though; the minute I would start moving again I would have to get myself off. I took the vibrator, then opened a Vicks Vaporub container and coated a small dip of the icy jelly on the hot metal rod. I had been wondering all week what it would feel like to be hot and cold inside at the same time. Now I was about to find out.

I turned on the Lynx, set it to the strongest level and inserted it into my pussy. OH MY GOD! Warmth, cold and vibration all at the same time, plus deep thrusting, circling, pressing on the anterior wall, plus stroking my clit… it was far more than I was ready to take on simultaneously. I arched my back so suddenly that I slipped underwated. I emerged my head to gasp for air, both not to suffocate and because I couldn’t help moaning (note: too much water). As the Vicks was penetrating deep into my walls its effect intensified, to the point I wondered if I didn’t put way too much. But it was just too much pleasurable. The pervasive combination of hot and cold was far more fantastic that I thought it would be. As for the vibrator, it was perfect, filling me perfectly. I was in Heavens.

I quit stroking my clit with my other hand and reached my breast instead. I love to squeeze my breast during the act (but not during foreplay), as it dramatically heightens my pleasure. Minutes passed. I sensed my first orgasm building up. I thrusted faster, harder and deeper, my pelvis attempting to follow, my Kegel clenching the rod. My back bent even more, so much that my breasts emerged. I had to keep balance putting my knees on the walls of the tub, then the bottom. I started to scream with pleasure as a myriad of confusing stimuli were driving me crazy. I wondered if I could take any more and how I could take so long to come, even though I’ve always been slow. My muscles couldn’t be more tense, my thrusting any faster and my moans any louder. I couldn’t loosen my grip on my breast. I rose and stood on my knees, spread as wide apart as the tub would allow, keeping balance the best I could, and then I came. Oh my god, it was so good. I shivered both from the cold of the air and the rare intensity of the orgasm that sent a spark through my spine. I closed my eyes and kept thrusting, making the moment last as long as I could, enjoying every millisecond of it.

Another one was already on its way. I had never experienced multiple orgasms before (I mean, in a row) and just couldn’t wait to discover that newest feeling. Too much stimuli delayed the whole thing, but now I was definitely catching up. I wanted to lay back into the tub but couldn’t, because I knew I would have to stop for a moment and I couldn’t bring myself to spoil everything. I managed to release my breast and reached my clit, stroking it first slowly, then faster and faster. Yeah, like that. I was already about to come again. In fact, I kept feeling very high all that time, like there never had been any release at all. Oh yeah, another one, so breathtaking that I actually stopped moaning for a few seconds, gasping for air. I bent forward, leaning on the edge of the tub with one hand, staring between my legs. But then it became hard to keep thrusting with my other hand, so I pushed it as deep as I could and freed my hand so I could grab it from the other side of my thigh. That second orgasm was a bit wasted because of this awkward manoeuver, but I kept it up. I wanted more.

Now I was doing it doggy style, on my knees, leaning on the edge of the tub with one hand and thrusting the vibe with the other from behind. I kept thrusting and moaning, still quivering from the latest orgasm as the next one was already incoming, building up from the remaining waves of its two awesome predecessors. Soon I couldn’t take using only one hand, so I pushed myself backward and grabbed my breast while kneeling, sitting on the vibe, holding it with my other hand from behind my back, moving up and down, slower but even deeper than before because of gravity. That one would be even stronger, I knew it. I prepared myself, closing my eyes, feeling my heart pound quickly and heavily in my chest, focusing on my deep breathing and loud moaning, feeling the rod penetrating to the depths of my feminity. I arched my back voluntarily so the vibe would stimulate my spot even more, sending another spark through my body even before I really came. It was coming, slowly but surely, and the slower the stronger, that I knew. Oh my, I was burning from both heat and cold, fever and impatience. I couldn’t take it anymore. I fell back, my neck hitting the cushion, arched almost completely above water, one hand thrusting from underneath, another hand on my breast, somewhat relying on my elbow to keep me from falling on either side, screaming, quivering, staring at the ceiling. I came for the third time… Fireworks. A feeling so overwhelming that all my muscles failed me and I fell back into the water, sitting on the hand holding the vibe, temporarily reduced to making pelvic movements for thrusting, trying to regain balance with my other hand grabbing the edge of the tub. I moaned and screamed as time stopped and pleasure pulsed to my entire body, pulsing, quivering. Nothing existed but the feeling, my screams, and the sounds of splashing water, the vibe and my body rubbing against the bottom of the tub. A small eternity of overwhelming joy that must have lasted, well, certainly more than thirty seconds.

How could I had been asking for more after this? I nonetheless was asking for more, just a last one. But this time I would take the time to position myself properly. I resumed thrusting, this time with both hands, more slowly, trying to enjoy the feeling even more now that I wassn’t in a hurry, exploring the walls of my vagina, connecting my mind with all its nerve endings. For a few minutes all the universe contracted to my vagina; nothing else existed. I tried to imagine how it would be inside, mapping every single area in my head. Strangely, it lasted much longer than I expected. Usually, the more I focus on my feelings, the faster I come. But not this time. Time was suspended. I was allowed an eternity to explore myself and I enjoyed every second of it. Perhaps I should call this meditation, if that helps understanding what I did, in which state I was and how it felt like. Perhaps it really was mediation, after all. I will try and ask a Buddhist monk someday… Just kidding.

Once I knew I was in complete control, I gradually allowed the stimulation to flow back. I was then sort of holding the rod like a joystick (well, it is a joy stick, isn’t it?), riding it more than really thrusting this time. My slow, deep breathing suddenly became heavier and I resumed moaning like a whore. I closed my eyes, focusing on nothing but my pleasure and on impaling myself on the rod. This orgasm rose very quicky, far more than I anticipated. Too big. Soon I was arching my back as I came and then, well…

… I passed out. Really. I woke up in the middle of the night still lying in the bathtub. The water was getting cold. The vibe was still inside my vagina but somehow I had managed to turn it off since it was no longer working. No, wait, the batteries were dead. I got out of the tub, feeling like a fool who couldn’t stand the orgasm of her life and passed out in the bathtub instead. I guess that’s my limits. At least that makes me a happy fool.

If anything, I don’t regret my purchase. That vibe is a true blessing. Every woman should get one.

Today I did something quite unusual for me: shopping for lingerie (and I mean shopping, not grabbing the first cheap deal I find). I realized recently that I was wearing the same underwear for years, that most was just too tight and that I had absolutely nothing really sexy. So I went through the streets downtown looking for decent garments.

This time I avoided mainstream brands like Wonderbra and Calvin Klein like the plague. I realize I don’t like what the average megastore sells, so I searched specialized boutiques instead. It’s about the only places I could find anything comfortable anyway.

Being recommended by my friends, I first tried some of Chantelle’s bras, but I don’t like them. They look so “fashion”, like they were designed to be outdated next season. But at the very least I’ll give them credit for providing quality material. It’s good for my friends, but not for me. I wanted something more simple.

In the end, I settled for buying from Lunaire. I purchased a demi-bra model that fits me perfectly. It’s both comfortable and esthetic. I couldn’t choose between black and white so I purchased both. I couldn’t help buying one of their thongs too. I had never bought one before and I wanted to try something new. Down the street in another shop I purshased two other thongs, low rider, this time branded Le Mystere. Silk undies from Mary Green next? (oops, more thongs. I hope it’s my thing!) One of them even features the word “Love” on the front. I got a bit carried away and took another bra at the next boutique, a Le Mystere underwire demi-bra I just fell for. Now how about some nightwear? A pyjama, a satin nightdress, a bathrobe… all that and more ended up in the basket. I spend another two hours picking up three silk blouses of my liking. I ended up spending on much more than undies like I had originally planned, but I didn’t care.

Is that over? Not yet! I finished my trip at a sex shop. I couldn’t help trying a new vibrator, owning only a small silver bullet. I inaugurated the cart with a 6 1/4″ Dolphin. They also had imported a Lynx-Titanium kit in a case. It costed a small fortune but I just couldn’t help myself; I’ve always been fond of metal and besides, it looked perfect for travel. There were those weird G-spot vibes, some that also stimulated the clit, but I didn’t find any of my liking. I also needed a small one I could put into my purse and carry everywhere, so I took one that looked just like lipstick. Oh, I must not forget to buy huge packs of batteries (I hate cords, and I hate running out of batteries!). I browsed DVD’s for an hour or so but I couldn’t make up my mind. Besides, I’ve been told to read reviews online before buying and I’m going to follow that advice. Perhaps I’m going to try Blue Door too.

By the way, I couldn’t believe how shameless I had been all day. I usually am quite shy and reserved. And here I was piling up vibrators into a basket. Oh, and a couple sex-ed and romance novels too. I’ve come quite a long way in the last six months, I guess.

That late already? Time to head back home already. And here I am, typing this post while unwrapping my newest acquisitions. I can’t wait to try them out.

I had my first orgasm at 13. I had learned about masturbation two years before, at sleepovers with friends. Three (or four?) times, conversations after lights off led to that topic and we all ended up masturbating, more or less at the same time. Well, not every one of us. Being the youngest, I didn’t have any prior experience. Besides, my genitals are quite sensitive and I can’t touch them directly (that is why I’ve come to love sex toys). I tried to masturbate with the others a bit, but every time I gave up after a minute or two. I would guess they were laughing of the baby who couldn’t even jill off behind my back. I didn’t care. Much.

Oh well, I admit it. I was ashamed of it. I thought I wasn’t normal, or sexual, whatever. I was too shy to ask anyone for help either, although now I realize it could have saved myself some trouble. Now I know a woman can get herself off without her fingers but back then I didn’t have a clue.

Now back to when I was thirteen. I came to notice that many people slept on their side with a pillow between their legs, my older sister among others. Twice in the past I had overheard her moans during the night; was she humping her pillow? I’ll never know.

I wanted to try the pillow too, so I picked one in the closet one evening, put my pajama on and went to bed. It was truly more comfortable, although I wasn’t used to sleep on my side (I had always slept either on my back or on my stomach). Habits being what they are, I sort of fell back on my stomach, the pillow blocking my legs on the side. Twisting a little more brought the pillow straight on my pussy. I didn’t realize immediately how pleasurable it was. But after a while I noticed I was moving my pelvis, humping the pillow. I stopped. What was I doing? I didn’t yet realize I was actually masturbating either. I resumed moving my pelvis. It felt good, so I kept doing it. I started to feel a strange warmth in my stomach too.

According to my bedside clock, about half an hour passed. I couldn’t sleep. At this point all I could think of was to keep massaging my pussy. Only then did I get it. I had found a new way to masturbate (or so I thought), and one that worked for me! Perhaps I should try harder then. I would have my waist face the bed even more, pressing my pussy harder against the pillow. Now it was feeling really good. I tried harder, my breath quickened and it became even pleasurable enough to moan a bit. My parents were watching TV upstairs so I didn’t worry too much about them, but too much noise could alert my sister in the next room. I tried to contain my moans, first by controlling myself, then by putting my face in my other pillow when I had to.

This lasted quite a while, two hours maybe. At some point my parents turned off the lights and went to bed so I would have to be a bit more careful not to get caught. My sister didn’t show sign of going to bed though; quite the contrary, she turned up the volume of her CD player, meaning she would stay up for most of the night as usual. Several times I thought she had heard me, but I couldn’t freeze completely. I had to continue humping. Each time I was terrified of getting caught.

How about another hour hanging on the edge of orgasm? Or two? I think I kept doing this most of the night, slowing down the pace then resuming, trying not to make too much noise. But at some point I pressed hard enough to go beyond the threshold… and rock the bed slightly. I couldn’t help keeping it up, though, as I sensed something coming down there. I kept it up another minute until I could hardly contain my moans any longer even with my pillow as I shook the bed for real, grinding as fast as I could, grabbing both sides of my mattress, quivering from the sudden wave of pleasure that spread through my body. I had just had my first orgasm and it was the most fantastic feeling I had ever experienced.

Of course my sister had heard that last part, even through the wall and the music. She came to my door and opened it.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine” I replied.

“Didn’t sound like it… Good night.”

Although it may have sounded like a nightmare, it was smelling something else through the room. She sure knew what I had been doing, but left me alone. Speaking of smell, I noticed my panties and the pillow were soaked with my juices (another thing I didn’t know). I had to change before going back to bed. If my sister still had doubts about what she heard a moment ago, they sure vanished when she heard the drawer.

At my birthday three weeks later, she met with me alone in my room and gave me a present. It was my first sex toy, a silver bullet vibrator. She told me it was small enough to hide so mom and dad wouldn’t find it. She also told me to be more quiet next time. I didn’t know what a vibrator was (none of my friends owned one and I was totally clueless by myself back then), but I knew what she was talking about and my face turned red. Before she left, I told her to wait, then searching for my words, I admitted I didn’t know what it was or how to use it. Now it was her face turning red, asking me if it was some sort of joke. I thought for a moment she would laugh but then, after freezing for a moment, she did the most unexpected thing.

“Mom and dad won’t come back anytime soon, so let’s give it a try,” she said. She tried to look confident but I knew she was a bit embarassed herself (and so was I; somehow I knew what would happen next). She taught me how to put the batteries in and turn it on. Then she told me to sit on the bed while she closed the door and pulled down the shades. “Now pull down your pants to your knees and lay down”, she told me, then “turn it on and put this on your clit. You can do it through your panties too. Yeah, like that. Do you feel anything?”

You bet I was. It took me a couple seconds to find the spot, but once I did, it instantly sent a chill through my spine. “Yeah,” I replied.

She laid down on the bed right next to me. She was three years older and her chest was fully developped. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it, envious; she was so sexy. But soon I would turn back to the ceiling as my feelings quickly intensified. That thing was much better than humping the pillow. Soon I started moaning, even though I was ashamed of doing it in front of my sister. I believe she didn’t want to watch, but didn’t want to leave either so she just laid there besides me, sort of witnessing the whole thing. She must have noticed it was taking long because just as I thought she would leave, she told me:

“Don’t you play with yourself while you do it?”

“What do you mean?” I managed to ask.

“Well, don’t you play with your boobs?”

I didn’t dare to answer because of the obvious fact that my breasts weren’t yet nearly big enough to deserve to be called boobs. Even compared to my friends’ they were ashamingly small. My bras were still AA cups at that time (to think my chest now wears 34C, I sure have grown up since). I was about to learn it didn’t matter though. She turned off the vibe. “Don’t worry,” she said, “it’ll only make it better once you resume it. Now remove your shirt,” that I relunctantly did, “then your bra,” that she did for me before laying back on the bed, her arms above her head. “I always play with myself before doing it. It’s called foreplay.” Then she told me to caress my breasts. I was getting so embarassed to do these things right next to my sister that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

She sighted. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, but it didn’t make me feel better. “I hope you realize not too many girls your age have a big sister like me to teach them these things. Why not get it on while I’m still in the mood? I’m just trying to show you a couple tricks so that gift won’t go to waste.” Now that made me feel even worse, even though I knew she was just trying to help. Then she started to laugh. I was afraid she was laughing at me, but instead she removed her own shirt and bra and started to show me. “Won’t you do it with me, then?” she dared me. And so I did, but not before taking a good look at her generous chest and how she skillfully massaged her boobs with both full hands. She even pinced her nipples (that I don’t really like however). I started to imitate her. Soon her breath deepened, and so did mine. I had never realized before that touching my breasts could be pleasurable. Then I watched her slide her hands down to her stomach, then back up to her neck, down again to her ribs, her flanks, her waists, her tights, outside then inside, teasing her pussy, then crossing her arms, back up to her shoulders down to her arms, back to her chest, and so on, for a good fifteen minutes. It was very erotic. I enjoyed watching her pleasuring herself to the point that I would forget to accompany her (she reminded me twice to keep going). I did my best to explore my own body just like she did, even though it was obviously a bit awkward. I couldn’t believe we were doing this. But at the same time sharing my pleasure with a more experience person was very arousing and I learned a lot from watching her. Also, it was a lot less embarassing that way.

Then she pulled down her jeans and started to tease herself between the legs, slowly closing to her pussy, withdrawing, caressing her stomach, her breasts, then down to her tights and crotch. She removed her panties only once they were soaked, and threw them away with the jeans while removing her socks. Once in a while she would quickly explain me a thing or two between two moans. I enjoyed imitating her, teasing myself just like she was doing. Then she started to stroke herself, insisting it was the right time. First she went slowly, then suddenly quickened pace. She grabbed a breast with her free hand and moaned even more. Then I followed myself, turning the silver bullet back on and putting it on my clit. That amazing feeling returned, intensified once I, too, reached one of my breast. My sister was right about all this: it was intensely more pleasurable that way.

Then she released her breast, pulled her hair and stopped stroking. I knew she hadn’t come yet. “Stop right before you cum and wait,” she said.

I nonetheless continued for a couple more minutes before reaching that point. I stopped just in time like she had. Meanwhile, she had already resumed and stopped again. “You should do that for as long as you can stand it, ” she explained. “Then when you get yourself off, it’ll be fantastic.” We were both laying there side by side, motionless. Then we resumed and stopped again almost together. “I can keep this up for hours,” she admitted. “Sometimes I spend most of the night jilling. I put some music so no one will hear anything.” In other words, she had just confessed she had been masturbating quite often right next to me, including the very night she caught me humping my pillow. “Sometimes I do it on the phone with my boyfriend too,” she continued.

We kept doing this for another half hour, I believe. She taught me you can put the bullet inside your pussy and something about that pleasurable spot on the upper wall. I explored my vagina looking for it while she vigorously fingered herself. We moaned and groaned, grabbing the sheets, our eyes rolling backward. Finally, neither of us could take it anymore and we came together in unison, shaking the bed. It was just as fantastic as she told me it would. Both of us laid there afterward for at least five minutes, all sweaty, quivering, shivering, still moaning.

Afterward she told me how to clean the bullet and even suggested a place where I could hide it: behind my bedtable’s drawer (it was detachable and there was some room left). We became very close on that day and for as long as we stayed under one roof, we kept masturbating together about twice a month; she taught me everything she knew.