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As I’ve said in previous posts, one of my goals for Camp was to push myself
and some of my limits, particularly sexual ones.
To that end, I gave myself one specific goal and one
mostly-wistful-wishful-thinking goal.
I’ve already written about achieving my first goal; now I’m going to talk
about the second one.
I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to do it, which was why it was never a
“real” goal, but lo and behold, the last day of Camp, I took a turn on the
Clitwasher.
[MORE]
As you. ah. may have picked up from various posts and bits of conversation,
forced orgasms are kind of a &;thing&; for me. As such, it may not come as a
surprise that being held in place while fierce streams of water pounded at
my ladybits has been a longstanding fantasy of mine.
(Confession: I definitely at least once concocted a story in my head about
James Potter doing this to Lily Evans.)
That you could hear ladies loudly enjoying the clitwasher most hours of the
day all of camp just made it even more enticing.
But naked! And &;man&;! and being SEXUAL in front of people!
It just didn’t seem possible.
Next year, I kept wistfully saying to myself. Maybe next year I’ll be able
to do it. Next year in Jerusalem.
I managed to visit Jerusalem early due to a strange series of events:
First, after bemoaning why sexy things had to be so scary (and explaining
what I was talking about) to Starshine (I’m pretty sure I can use that name
on the web. I’d better double check tho.), she suggested I take someone
with me if I was nervous, and actually suggested a specific person who
happened to be perfect: I knew them well enough to be comfortable with
them, but not well enough that the thought of them seeing me be at all
sexual freaked me out; and older enough to be reassuring, but not old
enough to remind me of my parents.
Second, while doing nails at the Spa, I happened to overhear a woman (who
turned out to be the clitwasher-guy’s wife) talking about how she was meant
to go operate it soon and how the lady she was talking to should really
give it a try. I couldn’t help but ask her, and it turned out that
(although she warned me she’s not nearly as good at it as her husband) she
sometimes ran the machine and was more than willing to do that if it the
person in question preferred a lady operator.
Since men. uh. scare me, this was an enormous relief.
I think I might have still been riding the adrenaline high from my previous
successful experiment, but somehow I managed to ask the person if she’d go
with me and she said yes. (She even took care of getting me signed up for a
time with the lady operator!)
I got there a little before my allotted time, which meant I had a very nice
vantagepoint to hear a pretty lady’s pretty cries and her calls to her
‘daddy’ which was uh. pretty hot.
It turned out they were way behind, so it was another hour or so before
they got to me, and by that time the person who’d came with me had to go in
very short order.
She still came with me to get me set up. And before it ever started she
gave me a big hug and made me tell her what I would say if I wasn’t okay
anymore.
(That seems like it shouldn’t be a big deal - safewords are standard at
Camp or the club, and probably should be in general - but it was actually
reassuring to say it out loud and have that reminded that it was there and
I should use it if I needed to.)
I went up to the thing with a towel wrapped around me. The lady operator
was like, you know you’re going to need to be naked, right? But I was super
clever, okay, I brought TWO towels. One for drying off later and one for
covering most of me up. And/or hiding my face in.
Her husband was leaving for some reason and was like, I’ll be back in a few
and I kind of was quietly like, no that’s okay take your time! and they
sort of looked at each other and then he didn’t come back into the area
until I was done, which I thought was pretty cool of him.
I was kind of lightheaded and scared as the lady put my legs in the straps
- it was weird, because I was naked, and she was naked, and my ladybits
were all exposed, and there was a lot of just hiding my face under my towel.
It was - I hesitate to use the word fun. I was so freaked out I couldn’t
really relax and enjoy it.
It still felt really fucking good, but I wasn’t able to get off or anything
- too self-conscious. I might have been able to if it’d gone on longer -
next time I might try to sign up for TWO timeslots in a row, if they let
you do that - but as was, afterwards I was kind of hot and achy down low,
if you know what I mean.
I kind of freaked out when we finished, because I realized I sort of knew
the people next in line, and I didn’t want them to see me. The lady was
super nice about it; she let me cover my head with my towel and walked me
over to my clothes.
(It was kind of hilarious; I overheard her loudly mouthing to her husband
over my head that “She’s really shy.”)
I was kind of shaky and really turned on and sort of wanted to cry, even
though I wasn’t sure why, so I was really glad the person who’d orginally
came with me had made sure I knew where she was and that I could come get
her if I needed a hug or anything afterwards.
I. uh. might have cried on her a little. She didn’t seem to mind tho.
It didn’t feel like sex - more like masturbation. Despite the fact that
another person was involved. (and god I was glad I had the lady doing it
and not her husband because I had not realized before hand that there would
actually be touching of my ladybits even though it really should have been
obvious in retrospect because how else are they going to hit the right
spots, I mean really?)
All in all, it was another kind of unreal experience - one I’m glad I had,
but still kind of have trouble believing it actually happened.
(But if I’d dreamed it up, I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an orgasm. Next
year.)
so yeah. that’s my second TMI self-report from this years kinkstravaganza.
Yay me?
&;&;&;&;DO NOT REBLOG&;&;&;&;
hashtag camp camp camp
hashtag nsfw like whoa
hashtag tmi tmi tmi so much tmi
hashtag kink for kate’s bls
hashtag mkp is kinky
‘treblog
‘t_reblog
via:Tumblr http://ift.tt/1kIdEzy
As I’ve said in previous posts, one of my goals for Camp was to push myself
and some of my limits, particularly sexual ones.
To that end, I gave myself one specific goal and one
mostly-wistful-wishful-thinking goal.
I’ve already written about achieving my first goal; now I’m going to talk
about the second one.
I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to do it, which was why it was never a
“real” goal, but lo and behold, the last day of Camp, I took a turn on the
Clitwasher.
[MORE]
As you. ah. may have picked up from various posts and bits of conversation,
forced orgasms are kind of a &;thing&; for me. As such, it may not come as a
surprise that being held in place while fierce streams of water pounded at
my ladybits has been a longstanding fantasy of mine.
(Confession: I definitely at least once concocted a story in my head about
James Potter doing this to Lily Evans.)
That you could hear ladies loudly enjoying the clitwasher most hours of the
day all of camp just made it even more enticing.
But naked! And &;man&;! and being SEXUAL in front of people!
It just didn’t seem possible.
Next year, I kept wistfully saying to myself. Maybe next year I’ll be able
to do it. Next year in Jerusalem.
I managed to visit Jerusalem early due to a strange series of events:
First, after bemoaning why sexy things had to be so scary (and explaining
what I was talking about) to Starshine (I’m pretty sure I can use that name
on the web. I’d better double check tho.), she suggested I take someone
with me if I was nervous, and actually suggested a specific person who
happened to be perfect: I knew them well enough to be comfortable with
them, but not well enough that the thought of them seeing me be at all
sexual freaked me out; and older enough to be reassuring, but not old
enough to remind me of my parents.
Second, while doing nails at the Spa, I happened to overhear a woman (who
turned out to be the clitwasher-guy’s wife) talking about how she was meant
to go operate it soon and how the lady she was talking to should really
give it a try. I couldn’t help but ask her, and it turned out that
(although she warned me she’s not nearly as good at it as her husband) she
sometimes ran the machine and was more than willing to do that if it the
person in question preferred a lady operator.
Since men. uh. scare me, this was an enormous relief.
I think I might have still been riding the adrenaline high from my previous
successful experiment, but somehow I managed to ask the person if she’d go
with me and she said yes. (She even took care of getting me signed up for a
time with the lady operator!)
I got there a little before my allotted time, which meant I had a very nice
vantagepoint to hear a pretty lady’s pretty cries and her calls to her
‘daddy’ which was uh. pretty hot.
It turned out they were way behind, so it was another hour or so before
they got to me, and by that time the person who’d came with me had to go in
very short order.
She still came with me to get me set up. And before it ever started she
gave me a big hug and made me tell her what I would say if I wasn’t okay
anymore.
(That seems like it shouldn’t be a big deal - safewords are standard at
Camp or the club, and probably should be in general - but it was actually
reassuring to say it out loud and have that reminded that it was there and
I should use it if I needed to.)
I went up to the thing with a towel wrapped around me. The lady operator
was like, you know you’re going to need to be naked, right? But I was super
clever, okay, I brought TWO towels. One for drying off later and one for
covering most of me up. And/or hiding my face in.
Her husband was leaving for some reason and was like, I’ll be back in a few
and I kind of was quietly like, no that’s okay take your time! and they
sort of looked at each other and then he didn’t come back into the area
until I was done, which I thought was pretty cool of him.
I was kind of lightheaded and scared as the lady put my legs in the straps
- it was weird, because I was naked, and she was naked, and my ladybits
were all exposed, and there was a lot of just hiding my face under my towel.
It was - I hesitate to use the word fun. I was so freaked out I couldn’t
really relax and enjoy it.
It still felt really fucking good, but I wasn’t able to get off or anything
- too self-conscious. I might have been able to if it’d gone on longer -
next time I might try to sign up for TWO timeslots in a row, if they let
you do that - but as was, afterwards I was kind of hot and achy down low,
if you know what I mean.
I kind of freaked out when we finished, because I realized I sort of knew
the people next in line, and I didn’t want them to see me. The lady was
super nice about it; she let me cover my head with my towel and walked me
over to my clothes.
(It was kind of hilarious; I overheard her loudly mouthing to her husband
over my head that “She’s really shy.”)
I was kind of shaky and really turned on and sort of wanted to cry, even
though I wasn’t sure why, so I was really glad the person who’d orginally
came with me had made sure I knew where she was and that I could come get
her if I needed a hug or anything afterwards.
I. uh. might have cried on her a little. She didn’t seem to mind tho.
It didn’t feel like sex - more like masturbation. Despite the fact that
another person was involved. (and god I was glad I had the lady doing it
and not her husband because I had not realized before hand that there would
actually be touching of my ladybits even though it really should have been
obvious in retrospect because how else are they going to hit the right
spots, I mean really?)
All in all, it was another kind of unreal experience - one I’m glad I had,
but still kind of have trouble believing it actually happened.
(But if I’d dreamed it up, I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an orgasm. Next
year.)
so yeah. that’s my second TMI self-report from this years kinkstravaganza.
Yay me?
&;&;&;&;DO NOT REBLOG&;&;&;&;
hashtag camp camp camp
hashtag nsfw like whoa
hashtag tmi tmi tmi so much tmi
hashtag kink for kate’s bls
hashtag mkp is kinky
‘treblog
‘t_reblog
via:Tumblr http://ift.tt/1kIdEzy
