Inspired byyesterday's post. I was reading "Women of/r/gonewildstories, tell us about the best orgasm you've ever had", thinking that I had stories, but couldn't remember them very clearly, and then last night happened. I could not help but share. Plus its good writing practice. Luckily this is fresh in my mind still.
Tiny bit of (fun) exposition: during sex, or when I masturbate, I've always preferred getting myself off with tight, quick circles on my clit using my ring and middle finger, preferably with very little moisture directly on my clit. Something about the traction my fingers get seems to give me more control of the movement. It just feels better all around. Too slippery, and I lose all my momentum. My husband is very much the opposite. He loves the slick sensation when he spreads lube or my own fluid around to let his fingers move smoothly across my skin. I don't have any complaints when he does that, of course. Different strokes and all Anyway, we found a new way to manually stimulate me a couple months ago, and it was fantastic. Beyond fantastic.
Since for the most part the clitoris is pretty analogous to the penis (the head being more sensitive, becoming erect when aroused) with just way more nerve endings in it, we realized that treating it like a penis was really fun. He was sort of giving my clit a really gentle hand job, but with his fingers. Just rubbing up and down the clitoral shaft like he was jerking me off. The more direct clitoral stimulation was only possible because of how lubricated everything was. Helped to dull that overly powerful sensation I typically get.
I've had plenty of orgasms in my life, but I never considered making a ranked list of them till that one. It sailed to the top of that imaginary list, by the way. I just lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a few long minutes afterward, every cell in my body was vibrating and just supremely satisfied. I laughed WAY harder than I normally do after sex. I'd never gotten such a strong endorphin rush like that.
So we continue on our marital way. A few weeks later, we tried getting me off like that one more time the way he'd done it, but no fireworks or anything. Very serviceable orgasm. But last night...jesus. Being able to pretty nearly replicate the most intense orgasm I can remember makes me very optimistic for the future. To be clear, though, I'm a big proponent of the mindset that an orgasm is not all that defines good sex. All around it was just an awesome night together.
So last night, in the near pitch dark of our bedroom, we're laying side by side in bed, kissing, hands exploring, half groggy because of how late it is. Both viscerally aware that though we never wear clothes in bed, we haven't had sex in a while. He lays on his side and I roll onto my back as his hands run down my chest. Further down my stomach. His hands are so warm against me. He's freshly showered, soft. When he grips my thigh and drapes it over his hip to give himself better access to me, I slide right up against him, the chill of my side and the heat of his chest clashing against each-other. I wake up a bit more at that.
I'm often too sensitive for him to go straight to my clit with his fingers, but I don't move his hand when he starts to touch me directly. I ride through the sharp sensation: it's a little past comfortable, but it's been way too long. His index finger slowly traces the length of my clit. Back and forth. Leisurely. I can feel him smiling against my mouth as it get firmer under his touch. It's easily his second favorite thing that my body does for him. Soon, he's switched to his thumb with that motion, and his middle finger drifts to the underside of my clit, sliding along the smooth, slick skin he finds there.
His two fingers, gently grasping me from above and below, begin the move together. Stroking along the shaft of my erect clit. Slowly tugging the hood back just a bit, pink shaved pussy and then pulling it forward. His middle finger dips inside me every few strokes, and we both feel the moment that I am suddenly very wet. Our bodies grow tense against each other, yet somehow relax, too. There's a familiarity to it, an anticipation that we both sense. That we both need.
His finger coats my clit, and now everything is wet. Every gentle tug of his fingers is now smoothed, and my eyes roll back at how fucking good it feels. My back arches, and his mouth falls from mine and finds my nipple. Teasing it with his teeth and his tongue. It's the only sound in the quiet between us. I can't manage to make any noise, my body's too distracted by the sensations. His hand is relentless. Constant. Taking his time. The stroke of his fingers against my clit is gentle, but his grip is firm.
He's doing all this for at least five or ten minutes. But that's a guess. Honestly, I was too far gone to notice time passing. My hands are draped over my head, gripping his free wrist on the pillow above me. Clinging to him as he continues.
The slickness, the heavy thrill in my chest, his hands, his mouth, my fingers gripping the back of his hair: they completely overtake anything else. I'm squirming against him, but he maintains his deliberate pace. The pleasure is coiling up at my core. My fingers scrape along his shoulder, down his back. But he doesn't let up. His middle finger is inside me now, pressing my wall with its tip as his palm now rubs the underside of my clit. His thumb continues to stroke the top. Everything is heat, and fluid, and getting stronger as I'm reaching the edge.
My breathing halts as I cum. I know if I exhale, it will end too soon. I'm all nerve endings. Shuddering against him. My back arching, nearly jolting my to sit up as every muscle tenses. My chest rocks back and forth. My brain short circuits. His fingers keep stroking me slowly, egging me on. His body is solid against me, his breath low and heady, right against my ear. It's pitch black in the room still, but everything somehowfeels bright. I finally exhale, and I start to come down very slowly, my body pressed up against him. I can feel him hard and wet, rubbing against my thigh.
His fingers don't stop moving. I'm usually way too sensitive to be touched after an orgasm. But somehow, this time I love the feeling of his fingers continuing to rub against me. He's returned to circles around my clit. It still feels good. Not that I could manage another round, but it's relaxing. I love being able to have him still intimately connected with me as I recover. Everything in my body is heavy with a numb, pleasant sensation. He asks if he should stop. I encourage him to to keep going.
"Slow is so much better," he murmurs against my ear, smiling.
In the fog of my brain, I smile back, kissing his neck and sprawling back on the bed. A few moments later, with his hand still inside me, leisurely exploring, I decide to test that theory. It was my turn, now...
Thanks for reading! I can't recommend this enough, ladies and gentlemen. /, will bang again
I'm still a little amped up thinking about it.sigh Best day ever...
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