Sexual Snippets

Sexual Snippets: I wanted to write this evening only I wasn’t sure what to write about. Therefore the following may not be of particular interest or intrigue and is probably more for my benefit than the reader. However, I hope it is appreciated nonetheless.

The Taste of Things to Cum

I love it when I experience small synergies in my life. It makes me feel connected to the world and the people within. It is a quirky, surreal experience when some unrelated and isolated events or situations are moulded together through some invisible strand, pulling us all together in some form of unity.
We are all different, with unique needs and particular passions but then, all of a sudden, something connects.

Last week my lover was talking to me about food. He commented on how I was unusual in my liking for extremely hot and spicy food. He pondered on the idea that my cum and lubricant may taste different depending upon what I had eaten, and suggested, with his own liking for fiery tastes, that we might experiment to find out whether I tasted different after a madras curry or a particularly raunchy chilli.

I’m more than happy to oblige.

I rather like the idea of doing a food diary with a difference…. “Today I have been mostly eating……. So how do my fuck juices taste today?”

I’m even happier to oblige if it means that I get extra cunnilingus.
I adore cunnilingus.
Having his tongue wander around my pussy is one of the most divine and sensual experiences that I can get. Forcing his tongue inside me in preparation for his fingers frolicking around my fanny, sending me to orgasmic highs is stupendous and that is before he has finished me off with a wonderful cock slide, straight in to stimulate me some more.

But back to the taste test.
I rather like my lover been so accustomed to the variety of taste in my fuck juices that he can stick his tongue inside me and tell me what I had for dinner! How cool would that be!
I also rather like the idea of him getting a splendid spicy flavour from my juices that tingles his taste buds but I fear the amount of liquid that he encourages me to cascade may just dilute the effect. More of this later.

No sooner had we had this conversation that I read an account of a man who deliberately changes his diet to ensure his spunk tastes as good as it can. I hadn’t really considered the effects of diet on fuck juices and then within forty eight hours, the subject comes up twice.
I think a serious scientific study should be done on this. It could be life changing for those who are reluctant to engage in fellatio or cunnilingus, purely on the taste factor. It could be enormously liberating if someone could make a connection between a specific food and the deliciousness of secretions.
And just in case this can be proven, I will continue to eat chocolate and oranges to make my stuff as sweet as possible.

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Inexhaustible Gushes

I apologise to those readers who have considerable sexual experience. Mine have been somewhat average; more than most, considerably less than others, according to recent statistical information.
Of course these surveys are asking about frequency of sex rather than quality, and to this extent as I say, mine have been average, as has the quality, until recently.

So I have another query regarding sex and the bodily functions of an active, turned on woman of my age, or indeed any age.

Can you run out of sex juice?

I once had a conversation with a group of young lads in the course of my work, explaining how sperm was made and how millions of the little blighters were produced daily. The horror on one of the boys face was hysterical. He literally turned ashen and white. His smile faded and a look of the utmost concern registered distinctly in his eyes.
Willing him to ask a question before having to directly acknowledge his concern, I waited for the inevitable. Thankfully he asked before being cajoled.
“What happens to all the sperm? Where does it go?”

The poor lad had visions of his balls exploding if he didn’t manage to get the damn things out of him with a little help from Lucy and Rita.

As we know, the sperm disappears of its own volition without the masturbatory assistance of the aforementioned left and right hands, although I would strongly advocate that if the need is there to assist the little fellows on their way, then the mantle should indeed be firmly grasped.

The recollection of this conversation made me think about women and their fuck juices.
For example, how rapidly do they develop? I would suggest – pretty quickly between being stimulated and gushing forth.
Is there a part of your body that stores this juice? Well clearly not, otherwise there would be poor virginal women across the world with masses of fluid in their bodies waiting to strike forth.
Can you run out? If so, for how long? Or is the female body so incredible (which of course it is) that it can produce this stuff on tap given the right stimulation?

Last week, I had the utter joy of an immense amount of sex. On Monday, I came all over my beautiful friend as he lay on top of me, fucking me senseless. As soon as he slid his cock inside me, the impact of it being within me made me cum everywhere. Great swathes of juices were pouring out of me. Within the hour, I was riding his cock that was deeply pushed within me, whilst simultaneously stimulating my clitoris. Same thing happened – a mini cataract over his balls, his dick, his stomach and his bedclothes, dribbling out of me and down the side of his legs.
After lunch, we fucked some more and I covered the poor man’s settee in yet more juices, thoroughly soaking his t-shirt and my shirt.

The same happened on Thursday. More towels were needed and more fuck juices poured out of me.

Friday was sensational. Our love making was incredibly tender but fucking hard or sensually making love – it makes no difference. I still cum with incredible volume and intensity. Gallons of juices spill out and after some unbelievably powerful orgasms, I thought that there could not possibly be anything left to come out.

Before the cynics amongst you think I must have been drinking too much water or needing a pee, I can assure you this was not the case. I had neither drunk to excess nor needed to go to the loo prior to having sex.

More sex after lunch produced the same amount of cum and I honestly think that had I stayed in the place any longer, I would still have managed to get another gush out.
So what physically happens to my body? And am I capable of producing that much cum all day?
The other issue is that I am convinced that the more I cum, the more frequent the gushes, the more I want to cum some more, the more I do cum some more.

It seems to me that there is a strong possibility that the cleverness of the female form is such that it really does have the capacity and capability to have inexhaustible amounts of gush.
As with the food tasting experiment, I would now like to put myself forward as a human guinea pig. I want to fuck my man all day – from, let’s say, nine in the morning to nine in the evening – a full twelve hours of bonking. Mmmmm, guess whose fanny is filling up at the prospect?

Again, for those who may be concerned about my poor lover having to deal with this middle aged nymph, fear not. As I have explained on many occasions before, there is more to sexual stimulation than mere penetration. Even if he did get exhausted with fucking me with his cock, then he has plenty of well exercised fingers that are more than capable of curving into my cunt to extract more cascades of cum. And I am yet to exhaust him completely for he too has a very vociferous and healthy appetite for sex. He can keep going for a hell of a long time, and his cock is happily and frequently ready for as much sex as my pussy.

The results of these experiments will, of course, be written about on these pages.

Watch and wait.
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Fucking Frustration

It’s been a long week. After a thoroughly fulfilled sexual experience last week, I have had to go to the other extreme this week with no penetrative sex at all.
My dildo has had plenty of action and awaits me now as I conclude this writing.
It is Thursday and I am probably not going to have sex again for some considerable time.
I’ll survive but right now, I could seriously do with getting into my car, driving a reasonable distance and jumping into bed with a man who I know would appreciate the company.

It is not “fucking frustration” at all really because I have more than my fair share of wondrous sex, and despite outward appearances, I can cope without it. I recently went for an immense amount of time without it, and I coped.

But just as sleep breeds sleep, then so to does sexual desire demand more sex.
Last week’s marathon of sex did not placate my need or desire, rather it exacerbated it.

Today, I had the unexpected fortune of spending an hour with my beautiful friend, all the more lovely for it being totally unplanned and a huge surprise. We had a gloriously sexual snog, followed by a quick grope, just enough for him to get some of my lube on his fingers to taste immediately and also to hopefully linger long after I had gone. I managed a quick fondle of his balls and cock, loving the feeling of its arousal, and then we had to stop, behave ourselves, be rational and I had to take my leave.

It was wonderful, it truly was but tearing myself away was quite torturous. And now, I am longing to be in his bed and giving him some much deserved attention. I seriously hope that the sight of me, frazzled and unbecoming as I was, has given him the impetus to grab his gorgeous big one in his hand, slowly wanking himself to climax, whilst thinking about me doing the very same.

………. Where the fuck have I put my vibrator?