Witnessing Her First Orgasms
I began dating Michele, a 26yo woman I met in an evening French class I attended twice a week after work. We walked the same way home after the classes and this gave us twenty minutes to chat until I turned off near my apartment. I asked her out eventually. She was an artist, funny, goofy, 5'-5" and cute, with short dark hair parted on the side -- 'Do I look French?' she would ask me.
She had a hot flexible body, was energetic in bed and liked different positions. She let me experiment to a point, but licking her clit was off limits. Masturbation was not something she dabbled with or wanted to talk about. For her there was no resolution, no climax. She didn't fake orgasm, I theorized, because she wasn't sure what that part was supposed to be like. I convinced myself the nuns who taught in her Catholic girls' high school had influenced her judgment of her own sexuality negatively and this still affected her as an adult.
I ordered an electric massager that was marketed as a masturbation device. The Windmere Prelude 2 was pretty quiet at the low speed. I was familiar with this mechanical marvel since I’d found one in the night table when I house-sat for one of the bosses where I worked. This employer of mine had a new wife, with an arsenal of Magic Wands and other toys. On my first night in their house my engorged cockhead learned how one of the attachments fit like a little hat. It also learned I could cum from vibrating only the head itself, an excruciating tingling stimulation that got me off six times in seven hours. Within two weeks the device was practically an addiction. If Michele refused to let me use this machine on her — well, it wasn’t going to gather any dust.
It arrived at my apartment and the following weekend was Michele’s turn to sleep over at my place. At playtime I showed her the unopened box and the gadgetry inside. This upset her in a way I hadn’t expected. She began to cry and said she was a freak, basing this belief on a previous boyfriend's diagnosis she was frigid. I told her there's no such thing. But nothing calmed her down, and we ended up having no sex at all that night. I held her while she sobbed herself to sleep.
In the early morning before sunrise I tried a new approach: ‘Well, it’s still good for your neck and back, right?’ It took a lot of coaxing and gentle persuasion to be allowed to use the largest attachment on her shoulders. I did that for a while, eventually traveling down her back to her ass and thighs as she lay prone on the bed. I was naked and erect, enjoying the excuse to stare at her body. I suggested massaging her front too, patiently talking her into turning over. She said as a kid she and her sisters used to massage her father’s neck when he came home from a night shift. She rolled over and I picked up where I had left off, massaging her neck. Then her arms and breasts.
Eventually there was only one part of her body left unvibrated. I changed my position, quickly removed the large attachment and loaded the little ‘personal stimulation’ knob. This attachment delivered a whole new form of stimulation to her nipples, I imagined something like the little hat attachment that made my cock head outgrow the hat. It snaked its way from her breasts down her belly. Suddenly Michele snatched a paperback book from my night table. In the morning light she began to 'read' it like she was bored or something, but turned a page every minute. Too funny -- I knew she wasn’t going to tell me to stop now, and I teased her more slowly. Pages turned faster.
The knob lazily circled her mound several times. Her legs were now spread wide. A minute later she said, ‘God that feels so good. Jesus!’ But the fake reading resumed.
I went after her clit more blatantly now, the massager pushed it around from different angles, stiffening it and repeatedly vibrating a slow path from just inside her up to the tip of her bean filled with feminine nerve endings. The attachment became slippery from dipping inside her. I oozed a continuous thread of precum on myself, with bulbs of clear fluid sliding down the thread. We were both drooling and trance-like, deep in a very good place.
‘What are you *DOING*? she asked, throwing the book against the wall. Seconds later she began growling and grunting, her hips made a fucking motion and her abs tensed and lifted her head from the pillow. I kept vibrating her clit, wanting to be there in case of aftershocks. As she calmed a bit I easing off and went back to generally circling her mound, eventually switching off. We were lying down, staring at the ceiling. I asked if this ever happened before.
‘Not even close,’ she said.
I waited 5 more minutes while she lay there with a new perspective, her first post-orgasmic moment. I said, ‘I believe some women can even go again — just saying.’
She didn’t respond, apparently shy about the subject matter. I switched on the massager and she opened her thighs, moving right to the position she was in when she threw the book. Orgasm position, I thought. The device seemed to go right where it was needed. When this orgasm hit she lifted her head from the pillow. There was more moaning and less growling, like now she knew more what to expect.
I told her we needed to wait for the machine to cool down before going again, and we kissed while I humped her thigh, drooling a smear of precum on her soft skin. She was very slippery inside too — my drooling cock fucked her drooling pussy, making wet smacking sounds. I hoped the device had enough time to cool down, because I really needed to cum. Right now. Now. Her orgasm milestone was too fucking hot for me and now it was impossible for me to hold back any longer and I added more liquid to her wetness.
After I recovered from my orgasm and aftershock she spread her thighs once again when she heard the switch and the hum. The massager made her cum, moaning and tightening her stomach while I pressed the tip against her clit. She became suddenly ticklish and giggly this time, and wouldn’t let me touch her body anywhere. ‘I’m very sleepy,’ she announced, and rolled over, out like a light.
I tried to sleep too, even though it was now 7am — but I was too worked up. I needed my own sleep-inducer, so I lay next to her and quietly masturbated while the entire sequence ran through my mind, focusing on the moments when she went over the edge. While she slept I shot cum all over my chest, then cleaned up with a sock from the floor.
Sometime later I woke up, reached for the device and buzzed her clit for a minute. But I felt an urge to have my cock inside her with the vibrator on her clit, a new concept. She was on her back with knees up, and I repositioned so I was not on top, but lying on my right side with my shaft aimed for her pussy. I slid inside and the massager had easy clit access. The walls of her vagina wrapped around my fat penis and transmitted the vibrations. Fuck, I thought.
‘You don’t know what this is doing to me!’ I said roughly. I slowed my thrusting, trying to postpone the inevitable. But the vibrations didn't stop. In a couple of minutes Michele moaned a long ‘*FUUHHCCKK*!’ and repeatedly clenched me with pelvic muscles. This started humanity's chain reaction and I couldn’t resist — the luckiest man on earth, uncontrollably pumping cum into her as she made up for lost time.
She had a hot flexible body, was energetic in bed and liked different positions. She let me experiment to a point, but licking her clit was off limits. Masturbation was not something she dabbled with or wanted to talk about. For her there was no resolution, no climax. She didn't fake orgasm, I theorized, because she wasn't sure what that part was supposed to be like. I convinced myself the nuns who taught in her Catholic girls' high school had influenced her judgment of her own sexuality negatively and this still affected her as an adult.
I ordered an electric massager that was marketed as a masturbation device. The Windmere Prelude 2 was pretty quiet at the low speed. I was familiar with this mechanical marvel since I’d found one in the night table when I house-sat for one of the bosses where I worked. This employer of mine had a new wife, with an arsenal of Magic Wands and other toys. On my first night in their house my engorged cockhead learned how one of the attachments fit like a little hat. It also learned I could cum from vibrating only the head itself, an excruciating tingling stimulation that got me off six times in seven hours. Within two weeks the device was practically an addiction. If Michele refused to let me use this machine on her — well, it wasn’t going to gather any dust.
It arrived at my apartment and the following weekend was Michele’s turn to sleep over at my place. At playtime I showed her the unopened box and the gadgetry inside. This upset her in a way I hadn’t expected. She began to cry and said she was a freak, basing this belief on a previous boyfriend's diagnosis she was frigid. I told her there's no such thing. But nothing calmed her down, and we ended up having no sex at all that night. I held her while she sobbed herself to sleep.
In the early morning before sunrise I tried a new approach: ‘Well, it’s still good for your neck and back, right?’ It took a lot of coaxing and gentle persuasion to be allowed to use the largest attachment on her shoulders. I did that for a while, eventually traveling down her back to her ass and thighs as she lay prone on the bed. I was naked and erect, enjoying the excuse to stare at her body. I suggested massaging her front too, patiently talking her into turning over. She said as a kid she and her sisters used to massage her father’s neck when he came home from a night shift. She rolled over and I picked up where I had left off, massaging her neck. Then her arms and breasts.
Eventually there was only one part of her body left unvibrated. I changed my position, quickly removed the large attachment and loaded the little ‘personal stimulation’ knob. This attachment delivered a whole new form of stimulation to her nipples, I imagined something like the little hat attachment that made my cock head outgrow the hat. It snaked its way from her breasts down her belly. Suddenly Michele snatched a paperback book from my night table. In the morning light she began to 'read' it like she was bored or something, but turned a page every minute. Too funny -- I knew she wasn’t going to tell me to stop now, and I teased her more slowly. Pages turned faster.
The knob lazily circled her mound several times. Her legs were now spread wide. A minute later she said, ‘God that feels so good. Jesus!’ But the fake reading resumed.
I went after her clit more blatantly now, the massager pushed it around from different angles, stiffening it and repeatedly vibrating a slow path from just inside her up to the tip of her bean filled with feminine nerve endings. The attachment became slippery from dipping inside her. I oozed a continuous thread of precum on myself, with bulbs of clear fluid sliding down the thread. We were both drooling and trance-like, deep in a very good place.
‘What are you *DOING*? she asked, throwing the book against the wall. Seconds later she began growling and grunting, her hips made a fucking motion and her abs tensed and lifted her head from the pillow. I kept vibrating her clit, wanting to be there in case of aftershocks. As she calmed a bit I easing off and went back to generally circling her mound, eventually switching off. We were lying down, staring at the ceiling. I asked if this ever happened before.
‘Not even close,’ she said.
I waited 5 more minutes while she lay there with a new perspective, her first post-orgasmic moment. I said, ‘I believe some women can even go again — just saying.’
She didn’t respond, apparently shy about the subject matter. I switched on the massager and she opened her thighs, moving right to the position she was in when she threw the book. Orgasm position, I thought. The device seemed to go right where it was needed. When this orgasm hit she lifted her head from the pillow. There was more moaning and less growling, like now she knew more what to expect.
I told her we needed to wait for the machine to cool down before going again, and we kissed while I humped her thigh, drooling a smear of precum on her soft skin. She was very slippery inside too — my drooling cock fucked her drooling pussy, making wet smacking sounds. I hoped the device had enough time to cool down, because I really needed to cum. Right now. Now. Her orgasm milestone was too fucking hot for me and now it was impossible for me to hold back any longer and I added more liquid to her wetness.
After I recovered from my orgasm and aftershock she spread her thighs once again when she heard the switch and the hum. The massager made her cum, moaning and tightening her stomach while I pressed the tip against her clit. She became suddenly ticklish and giggly this time, and wouldn’t let me touch her body anywhere. ‘I’m very sleepy,’ she announced, and rolled over, out like a light.
I tried to sleep too, even though it was now 7am — but I was too worked up. I needed my own sleep-inducer, so I lay next to her and quietly masturbated while the entire sequence ran through my mind, focusing on the moments when she went over the edge. While she slept I shot cum all over my chest, then cleaned up with a sock from the floor.
Sometime later I woke up, reached for the device and buzzed her clit for a minute. But I felt an urge to have my cock inside her with the vibrator on her clit, a new concept. She was on her back with knees up, and I repositioned so I was not on top, but lying on my right side with my shaft aimed for her pussy. I slid inside and the massager had easy clit access. The walls of her vagina wrapped around my fat penis and transmitted the vibrations. Fuck, I thought.
‘You don’t know what this is doing to me!’ I said roughly. I slowed my thrusting, trying to postpone the inevitable. But the vibrations didn't stop. In a couple of minutes Michele moaned a long ‘*FUUHHCCKK*!’ and repeatedly clenched me with pelvic muscles. This started humanity's chain reaction and I couldn’t resist — the luckiest man on earth, uncontrollably pumping cum into her as she made up for lost time.
1年前
