30 Day Orgasm Fun is organised by my mate Tabitha. It’s exactly what it sounds. A pledge to have an orgasm a day (at least) for 30 days and have fun trying! There’s no pressure, that’s why I avoided the word ‘Challenge’. It’s designed to give a mental health boost by getting in some important self lovin’ every day.
So I woke up early this morning, not on purpose but I took advantage of being awake before anyone else to indulge in some sexy masturbation. Do you know what I think is amazing about my job? Well, one of many things to be fair, wanking and fantasising are basically in the job description! I need to exercise my mind and my cunt to keep my writing fresh. Yay! So I got comfy, lying on my back, legs spread, and fantasised.
He stands before me. Fully clothed to my nakedness. Smirking. He hits me, like I want, like I need, with the flat of his hand, breast to breast, to thighs and back again. Harder and harder until I’m gasping and writhing and my skin is reddening.
“This is turning you on, isn’t it?” He asks.
My cheeks flush with heat at such a direct question and I nod.
He shakes his head, yet the Cheshire cat smile on his lips shows me he’s not at all disappointed.
He picks up a small, flexible paddle and continues what he was doing. Slapping one of four points, but I never quite know which will flare with pain next. Breast or thigh? I clench and gasp. Squeaking when he hits incredibly hard out of the blue.
He laughs. I grin, my turn to shake my head at his sneakiness. He continues. The red of the impact areas is darker now, some parts already showing purple. The marks will be so pretty. I groan thinking about it.
He drops the paddle and walks forward, until he’s directly between my stinging thighs.
“How turned on are you?” He asks, “That’s the question.” He cups my face with one hand, making sure our gazes are locked. “Can I check?”
I nod, rapidly, nervously. Desperate for his hands on mine, for release.
He trails his fingers down my collarbone, to my chest, lower to the bruises, past them to my nipple. He plucks and pulls, I keen, pushing my breasts out towards him as he brings his other hand to cup and brush the nipple of my other breast.
“Pretty turned on,” he mumbles, “pretty and turned on,” he smirks, looking into my face. It’s so hot, he must be able to see the red flush of the blush at his touch and his words. His gaze drops and so does his touch. Hands gently skim down over the soft curve of my stomach and drag along the top of my thighs. Stopping just before my knees. He fans his fingers out, dipping to my inner thighs and pushes them back up. I hiss at the pain of fingers digging into my bruising flesh until one hand reaches my pussy lips. He turns his hand so he can cup my cunt, spreading my lips and exposing my wetness to his touch.
“You are turned on,” He whispers into my ear, letting me rest my forehead on his clothed shoulder, “aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” the words are barely a whisper. I am so embarrassed and yet so turned on all at once.
“Good slut.” He purrs, stroking my cunt, his finger over my clit. Pleasure bursts through me, a gasp escaping my lips. He rubs and I groan, throwing my head back as the pleasure mounts. He kisses down my exposed neck and bites, in that vulnerable cup between chin and collarbone. I buck against his fingers, desperate for release. Pleasure and pain my favourite coupling, as he well knows.
He slows his touch on my clit and pulls away from my neck.
“Open your eyes.” He commands.
I do so, it’s not so easy when your whole body is drenched with lust, it’s hard to lift the weight of your eyelids. But I do it, fluttering my eyelashes until my eyes stay wide, looking into his face.
“Look at me.” He strokes my clit. I whimper and try not to let my eyes close as I response to the ecstasy. “Don’t you stop looking at me.”
I strain to keep eye contact. I can see his arousal written across his face. Tight lips, huge pupils, darkened corneas. All through his control of me, his hurting me and pleasuring me. A rush of joy explodes in my brain as I realise this and he must see the smile spread across my face.
“Good girl.” He smiles too and presses his smile to mine, a scorching kiss that sears its impression on my lips.
He fingers me, fucking me as his thumb rests on my clit. I surrender to him. I lose myself in the depths of his gaze and whimper as I desperately battle to keep my eyes open to read everything he wants and desires of me there in his eyes.
I whine and moan, squeal and groan. I don’t want to let him down but I need to close my eyes.
“Come for me, let it all go, close your eyes if you must but come for me.”
His voice seems to echo as permission is given. I close my eyes, throwback my head and surrender to the orgasm that rushes through me.
“Thank you, Sir!” I yell, convulsing with ecstasy.
Of course, that’s where my fantasy ends. But I’m sure there was hugs and cuddles and sweet goodness in the aftercare too. Of course!
So orgasm one was by my own hand and the power of my imagination. A good place to start. I’m hoping to write once a week (not decided the day yet) to fill you in on my weekly wank tally. So keep checking back. I will be tweeting about my experiences with the #30DayOrgasmFun hastag too so keep an eye on my twitter @victoriablisse for all that.