DID MY CAT SHRINK?

I know the vagina is a beautiful work of art. Sure, it bleeds once a month, but it also brings life into the world. And throughout history, a few wars have been waged to attain it. Its allure can make a man want to get a better job, or it can drive a man to sell his car and remortgage his home. The vagina has undeniable power. And, sadly, I think mine may have shrunk. 

I attended a sex party while I was on my period last year. And since I didn’t want the night to be a total waste, I sucked a few dicks. And one that stood out from the rest. It was chocolate, long, thick, and hard. I hoped that I could one day ride him into the sunset, so I was elated when he asked me for my number before leaving. We kept in touch, on and off. Then, a year later, during a pandemic, we finally made plans to link up.  

He asked me if I wanted to join him and swap with a couple he met last year. I agreed. To be completely honest, I wasn’t 100% enthused about the swap, as he and I had never even had sex. I didn’t want the first time I rode his horse to be at a county fair. None the less, he booked the hotel, picked me up, and we headed to New Jersey.  

When the couple arrived, we started drinking, played a game of strip-adult-charades, then things started. The woman and I began by licking at each other’s nipples; then she went to use the bathroom. When she returned, I was on my knees sucking my date’s dick like the world was ending (because it just might be). The length of his dick presented a challenge I was eager to conquer. With my mouth a slippery mess, my left hand playing with his balls, and my right tugging at his nipples, he almost lost control, and to avoid his orgasm, he pushed me away. The other guy wanted to see what I was working with, so when I returned from rinsing my mouth, I gave him a sample. When it was time to fuck, it was hard for him to keep it up. And my annoyance only increased as I heard the screams and moans from his wife getting pounded out by my date. I was annoyed as fuck!   

Eventually, her man got his head in the game, and it was decent. But I knew what I wanted, waited a year for, and hauled my ass all the way to New Jersey for. My date had stamina, so after her man had his orgasm, I needed to get off. He walked to the bathroom to clean off, and I pulled out my Womanizer. As I watched them in action, I imagined I was her. I moaned and yelled commands to “fuck her harder” and “fuck that pussy.” When I had my orgasm, I let out a moan, and a moment later, he came. We all took a moment to freshen up and find out more about each other, and then it was back to business. I needed to feel him inside of me, and I refused to wait another year.  

I sat on the edge of the bed and took him into my mouth, and instantly he was hard. He played with my clit as I sucked with a mission. When he pushed me back on the bed and slipped on the condom, I was happier than a dentist’s child on Halloween. He pulled me down to him, and he slid into me. His initial entrance felt terrific, then something felt off. The sensation that I used to take like a champion was no longer there. In my fucking years, I definitely fucked dicks longer than his. So, what was it? Every thrust was a mixture of pain and pleasure, but more pain than I usually like. When he bent the girl over to fuck her doggy-style, I envisioned throwing it back and giving him a run for his money. Thank God I’m not a shit talker because I surely wouldn’t have been able to cash that check. I managed to fight through the pain and still throw it back and take the dick, but I couldn’t comprehend what was happening to me.  

When he came, we cleaned up, and we swapped one more time. Luckily, the second time around, the other guy had no problems staying up, and I rode him like a cowgirl in a western movie. I used my low squat form to bounce up and down, then I grounded on my knees to move just the pussy, and finally, I winded him into an orgasm. The final time we fucked, he bent me over, and once again, there was that feeling – What the Fuck! – He wasn’t as painful as my date, but when he switched to missionary, I was very thankful.   

The couple left, my date had to pick up his kids, and I remained in the suite. After I showered, I laid in the bed and wondered- is my vagina shrinking? My first had a seven-inch dick, my 10-year fling had an eight-inch dick, and my last two exes ranged between seven and eight. I took every last one of them all like a fucking champ. So why was I, all of a sudden, wincing at a dicks? I may not fuck donkey dicks as often as I used to, but my partners are not, by any means, small. They all (yes- they) have nice sized dicks, so it made no sense.   

Last week I went to a sex-party with my guy, and we had a blast. I fucked some lengthy Johnson’s and I was ready for more, until the last one. When I was sucking his dick as my man ate me out, I could tell he was big, but I didn’t realize how big. When he put on a condom to fuck me, it was then that I realized I was in for a rude awakening. Not only was he long, but he was rock hard and as amazing as every slow grind felt, each rapid pump felt like a dagger. It was as if I could feel him hitting a rib. I considered telling him to stop, but my fucking pride got the best of me. I used to be able to fuck these like no problem. When he asked if I would do doggy-style, I said, “Hell No!” It started to feel better, and soon as his rhythm became thoroughly enjoyable for me, he came. After him, I was done.   

I wanted no more sex, and I didn’t want to see another dick for the rest of the party. I don’t know if my pussy is shrinking, or it’s just used to what it’s used to. But I’ll continue to push the barrier. The vagina is a muscle after all, so if you work it- it works for you back. 

I MAKE MY BAD DECISIONS SOBER

For as long as I can remember, I never loved the feeling of being drunk. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good margarita with my Mexican, or bottomless mimosas during brunch. But when it comes to getting drunk, it’s just not my thing; I prefer to get nice. Because I don’t get drunk, I can never use the excuse, ‘I was so drunk, I can’t remember’ line. This means I have the unfortunate responsibility of having to playback, in excruciating detail, all the events of a drunken night with friends, or a day of drinking that ended up in a fight.  

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no goody-two-shoes. I’ve thrown up across tables, fell asleep in bathroom stalls, and in many clubs. But, like an elephant, I remember everything that happened leading up to the moment I fall asleep. I can recall the exact sip that put me over the edge. On a drunken birthday, I remember picking up dollars from the floor and handing them to the strippers on stage. I remember waiting on line to use the bathroom, then falling asleep on the toilet. I remember the bathroom attendant looking over the top of the stall to make sure I was alive. And I remember my friends escorting me back to my section and letting me go to sleep. I woke up when the ship docked.  

I used to envy those people that blacked out, for the sole reason of zero accountability. I always saw the ‘too drunk to remember line’ as a cop-out or an excuse to do fucked up shit and get away with it. –” I’m sorry I slept with you best friend; I was drunk.” — I wished that I could fuck up majorly and, like Jamie Foxx, blame it on the alcohol, but I couldn’t. For a while, I envied those people; Then, when I started attending sex parties, I learned to love my ability to remember.   

If you’ve never been to a sex-club or swinger party, they’re always BYOB. To my very first party, I brought a bottle of Bacardi Coconut Rum. I had the bar-lady mix it with pineapple juice, took a few sips, and then scoped out the room. The liquid massage the rum offered my body, was just the right amount of relaxation I wanted and needed. I engaged in some great conversations, ate some pussy, sucked some dick, was in a threesome, and rode a man’s face. And the only reason I remember every detail of that night was because I was sober.   

When I started attending LS (Lifestyle) parties regularly, less and less alcohol was needed. For starters, attending parties with a guaranteed partner removed a lot of pressure. And since I screened my partners before the party, I had an assortment of dicks ready to please me. Secondly, with the right amount of people, the party jumped off rather quickly, and with everyone having a good time, a drink to loosen up wasn’t necessary. That high school dance feeling of, waiting for other couples to dance, did not exist. I was extremely comfortable being one of the first couples to start things off. Lastly, I wanted to be in total control of whatever happened throughout the night. I need to know what titty I’m licking, dick I’m sucking, pussy I’m eating, and whose dick is fucking me. In a room full of bodies and chaos, I need to have control; and I couldn’t have that if I was too far gone. Would I recognize the person a few days later, while walking down the street? –Of course not! But, at that moment, I knew that every decision I made was mine, and that was all that mattered.   

In addition to wanting to have that control, I wanted to be able to remember how it all felt. I wanted to remember the kiss on my partner’s lips when he sees the outfit I changed into. I wanted to remember the feeling of my lingerie against my skin. I wanted to remember the feeling of eyes on me. I wanted to remember my partner kissing me, then laying me down on the mattress, and removing my panties to devour my pussy. I wanted to remember the weight of other bodies on the bed. I wanted to remember the feeling of tangled limbs and hands caressing my legs in the air. I wanted to remember the feeling of my toes and nipples being sucked and licked. I wanted to remember the feeling of a veiny dick in my mouth as my partner devoured my pussy into a screaming orgasm. I wanted to remember the moment he turned me over to fuck me. I wanted to remember the smell of the pussy I bend over to eat and the feeling of her breasts in my hands. I wanted to remember his hands around my throat, restricting my airway as he rammed my pussy and found his orgasm. And, in the end, I wanted to remember him pulling me back to kiss my lips once he reached his orgasm.  

I make all of my bad decisions sober because I want to be in control, and I want to be able to recall the memories of each encounter. I want to remember the feelings of inhibitions lost and lust that enveloped the room. I may forget the names and faces, but that intoxicating feeling will stay with me forever, all because I make my decision sober.   

CAN’T CLOSE THE FLOOD GATES

I don’t recall when I saw the first women squirt. But it seemed like overnight, the world was suddenly obsessed. Every time I searched for porn, my feed was bombarded with women gushing all over the screen. As squirting gained popularity, it became every man’s mission to make me squirt. From dating apps far and wide, once the topic changed to sex, every man would gloat about how he made this girl and that girl squirt. They all proclaimed to have the magic touch; however, when it came to me, they were never successful.  

The first time I squirted was after seven hours of masturbating, and several clitoral orgasms. I felt my body quiver, and then I released a steady stream of fluid. The release happened a few more times when I was having sex, but the amount never matched what I saw in porn. At the beginning of my sexual revolution, it caused me to question my abilities. But, as years passed, I learned that some women didn’t squirt; and I was ok being one of them. That all changed when I purchased my Liberty Womanizer.   

It’s true what they say; once you open the flood gates, they can never be closed again. Night after night, I would pleasure myself and, every time my sheets would end up soaked. I squirted at a sex party while sucking my man’s dick. I even squirted with another partner as we masturbated side by side. My Womanizer never failed me. And, when I started using my Womanizer during anal, it was no different. While my ass was being impaled, and my Womanizer sucked my clit, every orgasm was multiplied and liquified, at the same time.   

During my duo-partner threesome, I used my Womanizer; and like clockwork, I released a gush of fluid all over his bed when I reached my orgasm. My primary and I were used to it, but I could tell that he was a bit shocked (to say the least). It wasn’t the first time I used my Womanizer with him, but it was the first time I squirted with him. The surprise and excitement of it all must’ve been too much for him because he never finished. However, the next time we met he knew exactly what he wanted.  

I arrived at his apartment and immediately got comfortable. He poured me a glass of wine, and we sat down on the couch. We talked a little bit; then he put my glass down. He stood in front of me and pulled out his dick. I had told him over the phone that I was itching to suck his dick, so he wasted no time. As I sucked his dick, he massaged my breasts, and my pussy got soaking wet. I sucked, gagged, and slurped until he exploded in my mouth, but I didn’t stop there. I continued to play with his cum, and as it mixed with my saliva, I let it drip onto my breasts and the floor. When he couldn’t take anymore, he pushed me away, and I giggled as I fell back against the couch. He went to the bathroom, and when he returned, we went into the bedroom.   

He undressed me while delivering me passionate kisses, and once I was naked, he went down to devour my pussy. It was messy and intentional, and with his finger pleasing my ass, he brought me to a phenomenal orgasm. I was ready for him to fuck me, but he wanted to explore my pussy a bit more. He licked his left fingers and slowly inserted his middle, followed by his index finger into my pussy. As I responded to his fingers, he slipped his right index finger into my ass and finger-fucked me into submission. When he was satisfied, he turned me onto my side and ran his fingers up and down my moist openings. My pussy yearned for his dick, and I was eager to be fucked, but he was in bliss, teasing me. I started to grow sexually frustrated, then he whispered in my ear, “I want to fuck your ass.” — Say Less!  

He slid the condom onto his dick as I grabbed my Womanizer. I bent over on all fours and lifted my ass in the air. He delivered a few licks to my booty-hole, and when I placed my Womanizer on my clit, he slid right in. As he pushed passed the tightness of my opening, I bit my lip in response. He gripped my waist tighter and began to pick up his pace. Each thrust, combined with the stimulation on my clit, brought me closer and closer to orgasm. When I felt myself reaching the peak, I screamed at him, “Fuck my ass!” and he pounded into me repeatedly. I felt my ass clench around his dick, and with an exhale, my pussy exploded. He continued to fuck my ass as I continued to shower him with my juices. A mixture of screams and obscenities filled the room, then he delivered his final thrust and moaned, “Fuck!” When he was done, with my face still buried in the mattress and my gaping ass in the air, I turned to him and said, “That’s what you wanted all along, didn’t you?” He simply answered, “Yes.” I passed out onto the bed, and after he tossed the condom, he joined me. When we both woke up, about an hour later, I took a quick shower and headed home.   

During the Uber ride home, I thought to myself how surprised he was when I squirted on him during the threesome. But, the second time around, he pressed all the right buttons to make my body do precisely what he wanted. The first time, I apologized; but this time, it was all induced. So, when I got dressed and saw that his sheets were still wet, I knew that his mission was accomplished.