Avec Pr0n

Yeah, I couldn't resist. I was reading a blog... and it got hot... and I thought "oh, fuck..." and started masturbating... and then I thought "well, I might as well search for more of that because it was really fucking hot and... and... I'll stop before I cum...." except I didn't. And it was awesome. When I came I cried out. I should have kept my mouth shut but it was so good... how could I?

And then thought "aw... I just used porn." Except... well... it was worth it. Ain't no shame in my game. Porn has it's place. I think of it as a refresher. "Ah, yes, that's what I liked about it!" No movies, though. Only words. Creating my own pictures....

And I was thinking about my time with Martin. While I was masturbating and he was watching... helping... he talked. And I tried to ignore him, as I often do with the talkers. And it reminded me of back when I first started sleeping around. I had a lot of phone sex. I'd listen to them talk. Not saying much myself... letting my moans be my words... telling them hesitantly what I was doing... how it felt. And I fucking loved to hear the words and their moans.

I had sex with a guy. Ron. Well, I went down on him. We never fucked. But he helped me to cum, his fingers deep inside. I could feel his breath on my pussy as I masturbated, as he watched up close and personal. The breathe felt like a caress, like a third more gentle, hesitant hand. I was close... something was holding me back. I thought about it for a second and told him "talk to me." He told me to cum for him. Twice. And I did. Because he wanted me to. That's all it took. And I wonder... what happened to that? How is it that sexuality is so fluid, so dynamic that the thing that turned me on yesterday is annoying to me, now?

Meanwhile, yesterday I was talking to Husband about getting my clitoral hood pierced. As I was talking about it, I reached my hand down into my pants, tucking a finger in the exact spot the barbell would hit... and shivered. As we kept talking I couldn't help but masturbate. I laughed after a moment and told him, "ha! I'm sitting here trying to have a conversation and I'm masturbating." He smiled at me and we kept talking... and I kept masturbating... my voice hitching now and again. Finally, I stopped and approached him, talking about the piercing still I told him to show me his dick. I giggled and grabbed some of the remnants of his foreskin gently between two fingers "right there" I said and he pulled away with a shudder.

I started to walk away when something occurred to me. "Show me your dick," I said. I stood over him. "No!" He said, shuddering again at the idea of what I might demonstrate on his tender cock THIS time. "Oh, SHOW it to me," I said again. Finally he bared it, halfway hard. I gave it a once over and smiled, walking away. "Guess you like the idea of the piercing." And then I stopped again, "or maybe you liked watching me masturbate." He looked vaguely sheepish "it wasn't awful" he admitted.