Diary of An Unrepentant Sex Addict

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Tales of Disastrous Sex: Number 1 in a Series

The lovely Virgin Slut made an interesting suggestion earlier this week. I took it to mean a focus on disaster stories, though that isn't exactly what she meant.

Nonetheless, I shall devote this week (granted, I'm only starting on Tuesday), to...

Tales of Disastrous Sex

Episode I: A Saturn Wrecks My Wank

The setting: Denver, somewhere around March or so of 1996.

I was living with P, my only real long-term partner. Someone I'd actually met while still in Oklahoma, who moved to Denver a year or so after I did. Like me, she still had family in Oklahoma. Her sister had been in town visiting for a few days, which had been a bit of a damper on our sex life, since P was ultra-paranoid about exposing her (underage) sister to anything even remotely inappropriate (no comments on this part, please, it was P's preogative to make this choice and I honored and respected that). To make matters worse, P was driving the sister back to Oklahoma (that had been the plan-- sis flew out one-way, then P would drive her back and see the rest of the family as part of it) so it was going to be another few days. But on the other hand, P was taking her son, and I was faced with the prospect of having the house to myself for several days.

So of course my first thought once the car pulled away from the house was to have a first-class masturbation session. I wasn't even going to wait for bedtime, either. I did wait about an hour or so, first. I figured that if they forgot anything, there were likely to remember it in the first 30 minutes or so. When they weren't back within an hour, I assumed they were well on their way.

So I laid out the implements of my pleasure: Medium vibrator for anal play (check), smaller vibrator for genital stimulation (check), good-quality lube for larger vibe (check), tasty porn for visual stimulus (check), and towel to lay down so the lube doesn't mess up the bed (check). I then set about said pleasure.

It went a little like this: Start with the medium vibe, around the opening of the ass. No pressure yet, not even a need for lube (yet). Just build up an appreciation of the sensations. When that starts to feel really good, introduce the lube. Don't be stingy. The towel is there to catch any excess. Liberal application, then start working the vibe inside. Again, taking one's time about it. When the buzzing tip cozies up to the prostate, you'll know it. Oh, you'll know it for certain.

At this point, I start using the smaller vibe around my balls and the base of my shaft. Also, by this point, I'm pretty close to completely rock-hard. So I position myself so that I can rock back and forth on the bed to control the vibe in my ass, and reach for the lube. The plan is to use the strong hand to stroke, the other hand to use the smaller vibe, and a gentle back-and-forth rocking to control the medium vibe. Versatile, no?

Then I hear the front door open and shut.

Something I didn't point out earlier: I'm in a mostly-underground, basement level of the house. The door is upstairs. It's not like anyone walked in right on me at that moment. However, shortly after I hear the door, I hear P call out my name. "Are you downstairs?" she calls. An involuntary tightening of the sphincter ejects the medium vibe. I hop off of the bed. I'm now frantically trying to clean the lube off of my hand and from around my ass, so I can get dressed before she gets down here.

Footsteps on the stairs. She calls again. "Just a minute!" I reply, hoping to by a few more seconds. She comes around the corner as I'm zipping up my jeans. Figuring out immediately that I'm flushed and up to something, she looks around me at the bed, and sees the toys, the towel, the porn.

She burst out laughing.

They had gotten about 45 minutes away (just to the edge of the metro Denver area), when an oncoming car threw a rock that glanced off the drivers' front window. In one of those freaky situations, it was just enough force at just the right angle to make the window totally distintegrate with a loud "Pow!" So they had turned around and come home.

And she had literally caught me with my pants down. And the sad thing was, she was half-expecting it. That's why the sister and son were still in the car: just in case I wasn't decent. Good call, that, since I wasn't.

We did what we could with the window, and they left again. I waited the 11 hours or so for them to get all the way to the family's home, waited until I got the call from her that they were there safely, before I went at it again.

Couldn't get into using the toys again, though. I kept seeing the look of amusement on her face. Plus, she had been disappointed, since I had waited until she left. She wanted to watch me, if I was going to be that elaborate about it.


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