I touch myself


Master C loves to watch me bring myself to orgasm and, fortunately, I love to put on a show for him.

Enjoyable as a good wank is, there’s something undeniably hot about knowing that someone is watching you and is getting off to you getting yourself off.

When I come, I lick my juices off my fingers and then accept Master C’s cock as He wanks Himself off into my mouth; rewarding me with a thick load of cum for turning Him on with my show.

It’s an experience that I find particularly hot.

Does Master C think of me when He wanks? I don’t know, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter. What goes on in His mind to add to the sensory experience and help Him come is up to him. It might be me, it might be Jessica Alba, it may even be me and Jessica Alba if He’s really lucky.

So who or what do I think about when I’m wanking? It all depends really.

Sometimes I’ll be having a particularly salacious daydream. This may involve Master C or “The Other Guy”, it may involve a celebrity, it may just be a faceless other person, it doesn’t matter. In this case the thought comes first, the thought causes the wank; I use my fingers and/or toys to give some substance to the daydream, to give it a little more realness. If I’m imagining that Master C/Ryan Gosling/nameless stranger is fucking me, I want to feel something in whatever hole my daydream has me being fucked in. The daydream provides the backdrop while my fingers/toys bring it to life.

Usually though, it’s the other way around; I’ll begin to play with myself and then I’ll conjure up something in my mind to give it something to work with and connect to the sensations coming from my boobs or my cunt. I may remember a particularly good shag that I’ve had. Perhaps it was the setting that made it special rather than the fuck itself. It may or may not involve Master C. It may or may not involve a guy at all; sometimes my hottest fantasies are those where I’m with “The Girl” or possibly even another girl. The sex I’m having in my head may be soft and romantic, or it could be hard, rough, verging on brutal. Sometimes I’ll imagine a one-on-one scene, at other times I’ll imagine multiple partners, be they people I know or total strangers.

The fantasy fits my mood. If I want to enjoy a long, slow wank, I’ll picture something tender and protracted. If I want to get off in a hurry, I’ll imagine something rough and urgent.

The fact is, there is a wank for every mood, and a fantasy for every wank, all I have to do is match them up in my head.

#MasturbationMonday
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Think of a number


Think of a number. Now double it. Subtract the day of the month your birthday falls on. Divide by your bra size/inside leg measurement. Add forty-two. Round to the nearest whole number.

Yes, this is my take on that perennial old chestnut: “The Number!” You know the one I mean; the one about how many people we’ve had sex with.

It’s a question that comes up from time to time and, it seems, it is one that we are endlessly fascinated with.

Personally, I’m in the mildly curious but generally couldn’t give a fuck camp. It’s an interesting insight into the person you are currently fucking, possibly a handy bit of trivia to store away for those Mr and Mrs type quizzes, but, otherwise not important.

The problem with it is, that when you start thinking about it, it’s not actually a straightforward question.

What exactly counts as a sexual partner?

If you limited it strictly to men and women that I’ve fucked, and if you give me some time, I could probably work it out. It would, however, take me considerably longer than it took Andie MacDowell’s character in Four Weddings and a Funeral. But then, you see, I’ve included women, and I haven’t had penetrative sex with women, only oral and finger play. So does than mean that I also now have to include all those men with whom I have only ever sucked their cocks? On the assumption that it does, then I have no chance at all of determining the total; given that my penchant for the drunken, random, back of the pub blow-job means that I really don’t know.

Still, even if I could, somehow, divine the total number of men who’s cocks I’ve sucked and add it to the number of men I’ve fucked (eliminating any duplication as I go), and then add on the women I’ve had sex with, does this give me my number?

What about the lad I jerked off at a friend’s 16th birthday party? What about the boy in my class whom I let thoroughly finger me so I could scrounge a cigarette off him when I was at school? What about that boy that first kissed and sucked my nipples and made me feel oh so good when we were both horny teenagers, even if I didn’t actually come? What about…?

You see my point though. Clearly “the number” does not simply refer to penetration. If it did, then I would have had no female sexual partners, and I most certainly have had sex with women. But, if sexual partners are not limited to those that you have had penetrative sex with, where do you draw the line?

Orgasm perhaps? Well maybe, but does that mean if I don’t come, I haven’t had sex? No, surely not. On the other hand, does the boy who snuck his hand up my top to cop a feel while snogging me at a school disco also count? Again, I don’t think so (although, had I not wanted him to do it, it could possibly have counted as sexual assault).

So, given that I can’t suitably define what a sexual partner is, how can I possible tell you how many I’ve had?

Let’s just say I’ve had rather a lot and let it go at that…

#MasturbationMonday

Taking Him in hand


Let’s be honest, there are times when our body lets us down; we’re tired, stressed, or, God forbid, just not really in the mood for sex. Yes, I know it may come as a shock, but even the most insatiable sluts sometimes have their off days.

Of course, just because we aren’t really up for getting down, it doesn’t mean we can’t still give Him a good time.

The good old hand-job often seems like a neglected act in a couple’s sexual repertoire, which is strange given that, if you are like me, it was probably the first overtly sexual act that a lot of us women (or girls as we were back then) ever performed on a guy. Long, long before I lost my virginity, and before I became the cock-sucking addict that I am, I loved stroking guy’s cocks. I loved making the guy I was with hard, making him lose control, and eventually firing off a load. It was such a hot experience just knowing that I could do that to a guy and, even though I moved on to “bigger and better” things, it’s still something I love to do.

I’ve said before how much I enjoy being responsible for getting a guy hard. There are times, either as a result of one or more of the reasons listed above, or simply because I want to do something nice for Master C, when I will fall back on this most wonderfully simple method of pleasing Him. There is something extremely gratifying knowing that what I am doing the cause of that reaction as His cock responds to my touch; getting longer, thicker, stiffer. I love how Master C reacts when I touch Him in different ways; stroking His shaft, teasing the tip, playing with His balls, running my fingertip over His frenulum. Each touch elicits its own response. The sigh, the moan, the involuntary flinch, the sharp intake of breath.

As I lie beside Him, my hand sliding up and down His shaft, I love to feel the tension in His body build as His pleasure increases.

Again, as a submissive woman, I love the reversal of control. I can decide how much to tease, I can decide when to let Master C cum. I can speed up, slow down, I can change the pressure of my grip, concentrate on another area. Each action of mine has its corresponding reaction. The laws of physics apply to sex every but as much as they do everywhere else.

Sometimes, as I stroke those lovely, hard, proud inches of flesh, I like to tell Master C naughty stories; encounters from my past, trysts with other men or women, things I want Him to do to me, things that remind Him of what an insatiable filthy little slut I am. I know the effect this has on Master C; I know how much my words turn Him on.

As His climax nears, I love the way His cock swells and pulses in my hand. I love the way His lower abdomen tightens. I love the way His breathing strains as Master C does everything He can to delay the inevitable.

Where should He cum? For once, the choice is mine. Do I let Him fire his load into the air, letting it fall where ever it lands? Do I aim His cock so that His eruption lands on my skin, allowing me to more fully savour His moment of release? Do I move, place the tip of His lovely straining cock at my lips so Master C can fill my mouth with His rich, creamy essence?

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter; I go with what feels right at the time. The important thing is not the manner of His final explosion, only that I have brought Master C there; pleasured Him, served Him. His release is my reward and when Master C moans my name, when the pent-up tension drains from His body, when He gathers me to Him and holds me in His strong arms and calls me His “good girl”, I know Master C is pleased with me, and that’s what it was all about.

#MasturbationMonday Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

Vicarious Sex


I can’t actually remember the circumstances that led to me discovering my brother’s stash of well thumbed porno mags, but I remember my reaction when I found them. By the standard of what you can find with absolutely no effort online today, they were extremely tame. The few hard-core examples mostly had any actual penetration obscured with coloured ovals. The rest were simply your run of the mill skin mags like Mayfair, Escort, Penthouse and the like. The images in them were almost exactly the same as you would find in issues of the same publications today; only this being the mid 1990s, the girls in them had considerably more pubic hair than their contemporary counterparts. There was never any doubt as to whether the girl in question was a natural blonde or not.

I sat transfixed, slowly turning the pages, marvelling at how sexy and how confident these women were. The comments next to the pictures seemed to emphasise how much they were in control of their sexual desires and appetites. It would be another decade before I would have sex with a woman; I didn’t consider myself to be bisexual then, hell, I wasn’t even sexual back then, but those sexy photos turned me on.

If the images were arousing, I wasn’t at all prepared for the letters. There were descriptions of people fucking, descriptions of guys getting their cocks sucked and eating girls’ cunts out, descriptions of girls getting eaten out and sucking guys cocks, descriptions of orgasms, descriptions of threesomes, orgies, outdoor sex, anal sex, sex, sex and more fucking, hot, wonderfully glorious sex. The words turned me on more than anything I had ever experienced before.

Needless to say, a couple of the magazines were secreted away before I returned the box to its hiding place. Once I’d exhausted a particular batch of “contraband” I’d return them and borrow another couple, slowly working my way through his entire collection which, I discovered, much to my delight, was frequently being added to.

As I’ve mentioned before, when I first discovered my brother’s illicit treasure trove, I had yet to discover the joys of wanking. Reading all those marvellously filthy words turned me on immensely, yet frustrated me almost in equal measure. Wanking, and in particular, girls wanking seemed to be the one thing those letters omitted. I wasn’t even aware that girls could wank, let alone have any inkling as to the mechanics of how it could be done.

When, at last, I’d made that particular discovery, the magazines took on a whole new resonance; they became the fuel for my fantasies. I would lie in bed, fingering myself into a frenzy, imagining I was one of those wantonly liberated women who fucked, and licked and sucked any cock that took my fancy. In the safety of my bedroom, with the door firmly locked, I practiced the erotic poses of the girls in the pictures in front of the mirror. As I grew bolder, I would wank myself, watching my reflection, learning how my body responded to arousal, slightly amused and slightly horrified by my facial expressions as I came.

Those magazines taught me that there was no shame to be derived from being a woman that enjoyed sex and being confident in her sexual identity. In the three years it took me between sucking my first cock and finally losing my virginity, I fucked vicariously through those beautifully vivid and deliciously filthy descriptions of sex.

To this day, I still don’t know if my brother was aware he wasn’t the only one in our house getting off to those magazines.

#MasturbationMonday

A return to form


As a result of a nasty bout of lurgy that’s been going round, I haven’t been feeling particularly well recently. As a result, you would be definitely correct if you were to say that I haven’t been feeling myself (pun intended).

Well, it seems that my libido may just be making a comeback.

I awoke from a nap this afternoon to find myself, much to my surprise, feeling decidedly randy. It has been a couple of weeks since I last experienced this, so it was very much a pleasant surprise. Given how unusual this has been of late, I decided it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

My nipples responded almost immediately to my touch, quickly becoming sensitive and stiff. By the time my fingers made their way to my cunt, I was so wet that I encountered almost no resistance as I slid first one, then two, up inside me.

My body responded quite readily to the stimulation. A lovely feeling of sexual tension and arousal quickly spread through me. I’d almost forgotten how good it feels.

I took my time, enjoying every slow thrust and twist of my fingers, teasing my clit with my other hand. Muscle memory quickly took hold and I closed my eyes, allowing my fingers to do their own thing, letting my body respond in its own way.

The sensations quickly grew, but my fingers kept up their steady pace, neither quickening nor slowing; now changing the pressure on my clit as it throbbed beneath them.

My orgasm, when it came, was short but deliciously intense, gripping me in its embrace and tossing me like a leaf in a gale. The climax itself lasted no longer than a few heartbeats, but the warm, satisfied afterglow continued for for what seemed like an age afterwards.

It was my first orgasm in over two weeks and FUCK, was it a good one.

I think it’s fair to say I clearly needed it.

#WickedWednesday

The joys of Skype


Skype is the business traveller’s best friend. Even when Master C is as far from home as I can be and still be in Britain, it allows much more in the way of interaction than a simple phone call.

Take last night for example; I’m at home, Master C is in His hotel room, in Bristol. My laptop set up so that it’s camera can take in most of my bed. Maste C calls me and after a few minutes spent describing our respective days to each other, He begins describing what He’d do to me if He weren’t 400+ miles away.

Inevitably, I find myself naked and I’m rubbing moisturiser into my boobs, imagining the gloopy substance is Master C’s cum, as He describes how He’s going to thrash me for being such a dirty little tease.

As my cunt gets hotter and wetter, I long to feel His tongue on my clit. I desperately want to finger myself, make myself cum but Master C orders me not to.

A look at the laptop screen and I see him stroking His lovely, thick cock and I so wish it was me doing it to Him.

“Do you want to suck this?” Master C asks. I nod, wishing He was here or I was there so I could take the angry, swollen purple head between my lips.

“Do you want this in your cunt?” Again I nod, moaning confirmation of how much I want Him inside me, stretching me, filling me, fucking me.

“Do you want this in your arse, you filthy little slut?”

“Yes please,” I moan, “please stick your lovely big fat cock up my slutty little arse.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your filthy little slut and I love taking your cock up my arse.”

“Slut!”

“Yes,”

“Filthy whore!”

“Yes,”

“Finger yourself! Fuck your cunt with your fingers.”

I comply, and as my thumb presses against my clit, I feel my climax ignite.

One orgasm isn’t enough though, and Master C orders me to continue fucking myself. My cunt grips my fingers as I plunge them deep inside me. My clit throbs beneath my thumb. My head tosses from side to side and my back arches. Distantly I hear Him ordering me on, demanding I abuse myself further.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity of pleasure filled torture, Master C relented. He ordered me to lick my juices from my fingers. I savour the taste as, in the screen, He furiously pumps His cock.

“Cum on me!” I gasp, “Cover me with your lovely cum, make me your very own cum-soaked slut.”

He moans my name. “Mmmoooo-ahhhh-rrrraaaggg….” It’s almost a sob as His cock edupts, sending long, thick jets streaking through the air. The rationale part of my brain thinks it’s such a shame all that lovely cum is going to waste, but mostly, I don’t care; my body is too drained to worry about such things.

We sign-off. I switch off the light and curl up to go to sleep and dream filthy dreams. The only thing missing is Master C’s warm, strong body to cuddle up next to.

#MasturbationMonday

Playing your best hand


If I’m being honest, nothing beats a good, hard, satisfying shag, except a good, hard, satisfying shag that results in a toe-curling orgasm or two. Of course, sometimes a fuck doesn’t result in an orgasm, toe-curling or otherwise, and sometimes we get urges when our partner isn’t there to give us the seeing-to we crave. Sometimes we just have to take ourselves in hand.

When we first discover the joys of wanking, in my case I was 12, there was a furtive, guilty feeling about it that, for me anyway, heightened the pleasure. There was something intensely arousing about furiously fingering my cunt and rubbing my clit, trying desperately to keep quiet so that my parents or siblings didn’t hear me through the seemingly paper thin walls that served only to intensify the power of my orgasm when it took me. I can’t remember how many times I had to feign a bout of coughing to disguise an orgasmic moan that escaped from between my teenage lips.

Whereas, back then, wanking was a guilty secret, shared only with my very best friends, today I’m much more relaxed and open about these things. Let’s make no mistake, I am out and proud: I AM A HIGHLY-SEXED WOMAN AND I AM UNASHAMEDLY PROUD TO BE A WANKER.

Whether you use your fingers or toys or both, whether wanking is a solo activity or something you share with your partner, wanking yourself to an orgasm is one of life’s great pleasures.

I’ve wanked when I’ve been single, I’ve wanked when I’ve been in a relationship. Now that I’m Master C’s slut and can feel His cock in my cunt, mouth or arse pretty much any time I want, and certainly whenever He wants, wanking is still a hugely important part of my life. Usually I’ll wank when Master C isn’t around, often we will wank together, watching each other as we each pleasure ourselves, which is something I find highly arousing. Sometimes I’ll wank Him as He wanks me; me stroking His cock as He fingers my cunt; wanking each other off, playing with each other until first one, then both of us cum.

Orgasms are the most wonderful sensation we experience, whether they are caused by a partner, or they are brought about by ourselves. Sometimes, for us girls at least, wanking is a more reliable source of orgasm than fucking, so when the need arises, relax, settle back comfortably, stick your hand down you knickers and rub one out. You know it makes sense.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

Virtuoso performance


I love the feeling as Master C runs His fingers up the insides of my thighs. Teasing me; never quite touching the lips of my cunt, always pulling away at the very last instant.  The teasing is a delicious form of torture; I want Master C to touch me there; to feel my warmth, my wetness. I want to feel His fingers inside me, pumping in and out and twisting around.

The approach…

The retreat…

His fingers caress my skin like those of concert pianist stroking the ivory keys in front of Him.

Each time it drives me crazy. Each time it makes me that little bit more hungry, more desperate for that most intimate of touches. Each time I think He can’t possibly tease me any more, but He does.

And then I gasp, and quiver, as a finger brushes lightly against my folds. My legs part a little more, allowing Him more access should He require it.

A little more pressure, a slightly firmer touch; my lower lips part and my juices flow. My clit pulses as Master C presses his thumb to it and then, oh… oh! That moment when He slowly inserts the tip of his finger.

My body is a finely tuned instrument that Master C plays with an easy virtuosity that comes from knowing just which keys to press.

In He pushes, deeper and deeper. He pulls right back and I feel a second join it, stretching me as they work their way in. My cunt grips them tight as they begin to pump in and out. I squeeze my nipples as His fingers work their magic on my cunt. My moans, a counterpoint harmony to the soft sounds of His fingers playing my cunt.

What’s this? A third? I try to relax as Master C works another digit inside me. His thick, strong fingers open me up wide as He pushes them deep inside me.

He pushes in harder, He pushes in deeper; I tug hard on my nipples as He fucks me with his fingers. My moans become cries; a chorus that He is conducting.

And now a fourth squeezes inside me. Only his thumb remains outside to tease my clit.

Harder… Deeper… Rougher… It feels so good.

My orgasm builds with in me. My cunt spasms around His fingers. My cunt throbs under His thumb.

My back arches. I throw my head back and moan as the sensations consume me, claim me, hold me. My climax, a crescendo that demonstrates the skill with which He performs His art.

Again… Again… How much more can my poor cunt take?

And then he is gone. He touches his fingers to my lips, and I taste myself on his fingers.

A pause… Silence… The first movement is over, the second is yet to begin…

 

#WickedWednesday

An “A-Z” of Wanks


In celebration of May being World Masturbation Month, I thought it might be fun to try and give an A-Z of wanks. You might have different names for some of these, but I’m sure you will recognise at least some of them.

A – The Anger Wank
We’ve all been there, a bad day at the office, a friend has pissed you off, you get home to find the cat has puked all over the sofa. You’re annoyed, you’ve had enough. What better way to work of your frustrations than dig out a favourite toy or two and give yourself a couple of shuddering orgasms. It won’t fix your problems, but it will make you feel better about things.

B – The Basic Wank
Can’t be bothered faffing around with toys, lube, etc.? Take it back to basics; enjoy a session with your fingers and your own natural lubricant. Relive the joy of those first furtive fingerings that you gave yourself so many years ago. Sometimes, less is more.

C – The Cunt Filler
Fingers not quite cutting it? Want to feel stretched and full? You remember that mammoth, super-sized dildo you’ve got stashed away for those “need a bit more” situations. Ram it in and feel that delicious fullness.

D – The Danger Wank
We all need excitement. The thrill of the risk of being caught adds to the arousal. It’s the wank in public or semi-public places.

E – The Eclectic Wank
You want to get off, but can’t quite decide how. Fingers? Toys? Frotting against an inanimate object? All of the aforementioned? It’s the wank where you use every tool in your arsenal to get yourself off.

F – The “Fuck This! I’m Having A Wank” Wank
Housework to be done? Ironing to be put away? Washing piling up? You know what, I can’t be arsed, I think I’ll have a wank first.

G – The Gratuitous Wank
The one you do in front of your partner because they are failing to meet your needs (can also be combined with The Anger Wank). You’re doing it for you, not for them. You’re having a wank and you don’t care if they know about it; in fact, you want them to know about it.

H – The Happy Wank
You’re in a great mood, you may or may not know the reason for this, but you’re sure as hell going to enjoy it. And what better way to make a little happiness go that bit further? Yup, work that clit/cock.

I – The Insecure Wank
First date nerves? Worried about if he/she will like/want to fuck you? Settle down and settle yourself before you go out with a quick reminder of just why you are fabulous.

J – The Jealous Wank
Just seen your ex with their latest partner? Feeling a bit down about it. Cheer yourself up with a reminder of what they are now missing out on: you. Can be combined with the Anger and Insecure wanks.

K – The Killer Wank
The kind of wank that leaves you more than just breathless.  You’ve cum so hard and so often that you actually feel like you’ve endangered your very existence.

L – The Learning Wank
It’s back to the beginning. It’s the way we learned how we liked to be touched. Thinking back brings back memories of a more “innocent” time.

M – The Mighty Moaner
The frustration has been building up. The release is so powerful. You shout your pleasure from the rooftops and you don’t care who hears you (with the possible exception of your parents). Sometimes combined with The Killer Wank.

N – The Normal Wank
This is your default wank. The one you fall back on when you haven’t the energy/can’t be arsed with anything else. It’s reliable, you know it works, so why fix it?

O – The OMFG!!! Wank
A variation of The Killer Wank and The Mighty Moaner. It produces orgasms so strong you feel like you won’t be able to move for about a week.

P – The Preparation Wank
You know you’re going to get a bloody good seeing-to, but you can’t wait to get started, so you have a quick bit of me time to start things moving.

Q – The Quiet Wank
It’s the middle of the night. You wake up feeling as randy as hell. Beside you, your partner is sleeping soundly, snoring and drooling into their pillow. It would be a shame to wake them. So, quietly does it, trying hard not to disturb them as you wank yourself back to sleep.

R – The Rushed Wank
You’ve got some place to be. You’re meeting a friend for a drink. It’s taken you forever to get ready and if you don’t hurry up, you will definitely be late. One small snag, you’re randy. Probably just got time to dig out the Doxy and scrape yourself of the ceiling after 30 seconds.

S – The Sensual Wank
You have all the time in the world, so take it slowly. Use your favourite body oils and creams. Take time to ensure every inch of you tingles. Savour it. Wallow in it. Enjoy it.

T – The Toy Wank
You want to feel full, you want to feel something thrust deep inside you. You want your cunt to squeeze and grip hard on something as you cum.  It’s time for toys. The Cunt Filler is a subset of this wank.

U – The Unexpected Wank
You hadn’t planned to have one; you weren’t even aware that you were particularly randy. Suddenly, midway through Eastenders, you unexpectedly find yourself with your fingers in you knickers. Well, let’s be honest, almost anything is better than watching Eastenders.

V – The Variety Wank
Similar in a way to The Eclectic Wank, but this time the variety is deliberate. You’ve carefully chosen out what toys you are going to use, the lube to apply and you’ve got it all worked out in advance so that you use them all.

W – The Watching Wank
Whether it’s you watching your partner or your partner watching you, or maybe you’re simultaneously watching each other, having an audience can make the experience even more intimate. Can be combined with just about every other wank described in this post.

X – The X-Rated Wank
This is the wank that you do deliberately for your partner. Sometimes also known as the Exhibitionist Wank. You are putting on a show. Your self-pleasure is as much for their arousal as it is for your own enjoyment.
Warning: Can lead to a long, hard, intense fuck.

Y – The “You Touch Me” Wank
Wanking is not a solitary experience. Having a partner bring you off with their fingers, or you doing it to them can be a deeply intense sexual experience.

Z – The Zumba Instructor
I’m cheating here because I can’t think of anything beginning with Z. That said, my Zumba instructor is seriously hot and I would love to do very naughty things to and with her. So maybe this is the category for all those fantasy filled wanks with the people you will never have.

So, there you go, my quick “A-Z” of Wanks, which I hope amused you.

#MasturbationMonday May Has Cum - World Masturbation Month

Finally


It’s such a wonderful feeling. The relief is as overwhelming as it is instantaneous.

Pushed to the brink of my endurance, taken to the very edge and the held there for what seems an eternity. I am way beyond tears. I no longer have the energy to sob and moan in my frustration. Every nerve inside me burns. The tension inside me is so great, I feel as if I would snap in two at the slightest pressure.

For minutes that seem like hours, days, an eternity, He has held me in that place, that deliciously agonising limbo

A slow boil.

A vigorous simmering.

The pressure mounting interminably, but the release valve locked tightly shut.

I want to explode. My need for release is a physical pain, burning through me. I both love and hate what He is forcing me to endure; craving release from my torment while knowing the longer He denies me, the sweeter, more exquisite will be my final surrender.

He is a maestro, a virtuoso; he plays my body skilfully and effortlessly. He has played and conducted his latest symphony upon me; and as the crescendo builds inside me, growing ever more intense, I await that flick of the conductor’s batton that will signal the grand finalé.

My breathing is pained. Lights flash with brilliant luminescence behind my tightly shut eyes. And then I hear His instruction, I hear the words I have been waiting an eternity for Him to utter.

Two words; that is all He says. Two words that, when obeyed, ignite my climax. Two words that will give me instant relief and such intense pleasure.

Two words said softly.

Two words.

“Touch yourself.”