I have a strange fascination with the extent to which I can emit copious amounts of juices all over the place at the moment with, of course, the right kind of impetus.
My fascination is furthered by the fact that I cannot really discuss this with any other woman to see if this is normal – whatever normal is!
Having thought about this further today, I wondered what it was that triggered this more vociferous stream of cum. Was it that I hadn’t had an ejaculation for a few days so therefore there was excess liquid? Was it that I was in a certain part of a menstrual cycle with a build up of estrogens? Was it because I had been with someone all day and had a burning desire to get his cock out of his trousers and into my fanny? Was it just that at the age of forty two, I am just a cummy type of girl who given the right environment, can just keep on going? Or is it just an amalgamation of the above.
Earlier in the week, whilst lying in bed after some sensual, totally mind-mesmerising sex, I found myself drifting into the most blissful, state of Satori where my concentration levels were sapped almost in direct relation to the amount of fluid that had escaped, or some might say, gushed from my cunt. And another thought came to me – maybe there really is some correlation between the number of orgasms I have with the quantities of ejaculation and my ability to function cognitively or indeed on any level. And then another thought came to me just now. Is there an infinite amount of liquid within my body that can just keep pouring out of me with constant orgasms, and if I was on a complete 24/7 orgasm would I actually run out of juices and have to be rushed to hospital with dehydration – rather an embarrassing dilemma in the middle of a cold spell in October!
Obviously, you need to drink to keep your body fluids up, and obviously if there was no more fluid going into your body you would probably not be able to emit quite as much – puts a completely different perspective on having a glass of water by the side of the bed, doesn’t it?
These are just a few gathering thoughts that I have about my female ejaculation, and I would love to be able to know if a) other people had ever considered these things or b) if other people have had similar experiences or c) other people thought I ought to go straight to the nearest gynaecologist to have my bits checked out or d) other people thought I ought to go straight to the nearest shrink to have a look at my over-elaborate, exaggerated imagination.
Well let me first of all dismiss the last point. I am not going insane. I do not have a furtive imagination that has led me to fabricate this phenomenon. It is actually happening to me and I am really enjoying the liberation of allowing myself to be taken away to another world by lying back and feeling this wonderful sensation pass through my entire body. What is more, which I am sure has been noted, as I become more accustomed to this, and I become more in tune with my sexuality, I can actually recognise when it is going to happen. I can feel my juices moving around my body. I can feel them piling on extra pressure and making my orgasms even more sensational. Believe me, the biggest issue here is enabling, allowing (call it what you like) your body to feel free enough to lose all those debilitating inhibitions to allow yourself to do this. It is not pee. It doesn’t feel the same as that. I am not denying that there is a possibility that pee may happen simultaneously but this is something completely different.
Having said that, here is another thought. There are some similarities to peeing and female ejaculation.
Imagine a time when you have been desperate to pee. When you eventually get to the loo, or wherever, isn’t there a satisfying sensation in being able to let the urine out? Imagine that and then multiply it by many, many numbers and multiply it again and you may begin to imagine what it feels like to have a frenetic, satisfying female ejaculation – messy, squirty, slippy, lovely juicy cum.
My imagination may be good but it isn’t that good.
What I am trying to do in this little Zenpuss rambling is to try and make people think about some science behind this and also to try and make the reader understand it and believe in it. These are real questions that I want to consider. They are real things that happen to me. These are real events that are part of my life.
When I am turned on, I have to admit that the thing that I want more than anything is to have an adorable, comfortable, known cock deep inside me. But it is possible for me to get my juices flowing by merely thinking of that cock inside me. As I write, I know that I am going to have to stop presently so that I can whip my jeans off, pull back my red lacy thongs and slide my fingers into my already lubricated cunt, whilst imagining that big, luscious cock moving towards me.
And when that cock is in front of me, I am so excited, so delighted by its physical presence, I am so wrapped in the joy and bliss of being with this person, I am so bloody well turned on when it slides into me that I have already got my mind going overtime so that I know the cum is almost instantaneous on contact of cock and cunt. So what happens is that I soak balls, and I adore this. I love knowing that my juices are rushing out of me and trickling down the shaft of his cock, out of my hole onto his awaiting pubes and balls – fucking wonderful.
Blimey, I’d be a crap bloke wouldn’t I? Talk about premature ejaculation! And before you suddenly feel sorry for the poor owner of the lovely cock, let me make this perfectly clear, I don’t stop at one cum, or even two. As I said at the beginning of this blog, I am fascinated by the fact that I have a seemingly endless supply of cum. And if I lie down wrapped up with my lover after fairly strenuous and athletic sex, even if I am more or less disabled by Satori, I know that within a relatively short space of time, I could still roll over or push his fingers towards or into my cunt and it will all start all over again.
Aren’t I an incredibly fortunate woman? Fortunate that I can ejaculate, fortunate that I can make love to a man who makes this happen, fortunate that he enjoys his balls being soaked, fortunate that I am sexually liberated enough to find a way that I can do this for myself, fortunate that I am one of a small percentage of women who knows what this is like.
Lucky me!
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