The Devil’s Waterpik

Sex, for me, is SO NOT about getting off. When I masturbate I typically like to extend it out as long as possible, hours most often. I find that the resulting orgasm is much more pleasurable and the long ride there quite satisfying.

The same goes for sex with another individual. My satisfaction is not about getting a nut and rolling over, although that can have its place after a long day. Sex with a lover, to me, is more about feeling like I am making someone else feel good at the same time. I want to feel like the fucking Man! Call it a head game, ego trip, what have you, but I want to make a woman come and have her look up at me like I am some sort of damn magician. That is what gets me off beyond belief. That is what makes me want to get up and cook her breakfast in bed the next day. If I get a call the next day, from my already horny lover, telling me she cannot stop thinking about last night and that I am unforgettable and impossible to replace I feel valued, I might even change religions, if I had one of course.

Chemistry is an amazing thing and I truly believe there is someone for everyone. I have had bad sexual relationships with women who have moved on to other man and suddenly blossomed sexually. It wasn’t me, but for her, it was just not me that hit the right buttons. Of course it was almost always mutual, either her moans or gasps did not really match what was going on at the moment, or the reflexive responses between us never really created any sort of chain reaction that resulted in really hot sex for both of us. I wish I had the time back I spent on relationships after first realizing this. I don’t regret the following time spent, but at this point in my life I know what I want and I wish I had stayed true to myself. The compounded interest from such a good investment would be in the millions by now.

I say all this to make the point that if I don’t think my lover is having a good time my own performance suffers. I am no longer in the moment and begin to think more about what I am doing than reacting naturally. This is a buzz killer and erection killer too. Squirting is a pretty sure fire way to show you are having a good time, when it is happening. It is visual, tactile and obvious. After a sudden body temperature stream of fluid drenches your pubic bone, like the devil’s waterpik, the question “Did you come?” is more of a funny anecdote rather than an insecure question for validation.

The first time I was with a woman who squirted noticeably we totally wet her bed, the mattress, some of the carpet and our clothes. It was fucking hot. It was a mess. I felt so fulfilled. She apologized and did not seem to want to acknowledge the melee, like it was a handicap that I had tolerated. I reassured her, but you know I never felt like she was totally ok with it. It happened most times we had sex. Usually, I controlled her orgasm until I knew she was at the boiling point, then old faithful would erupt. Her failure to be comfortable with it did diminish it for me, however. How could she fail to recognize the aqua validation my fragile male ego so desperately desired?

My shameless whore is another story, as you can very well see. She is quite comfortable with her body and continues to be more so all the time. Yes, she squirts, and to a degree I have never seen, and is in control of it. She is quite amazing actually. We have played with this skill and the myriad of fantasies and scenes that have been, and will be created, from this additional toy in our box of pleasure certainly is a plus. It need not happen every time. I have told her that she is the best lover I have ever had. It is true and I don’t say that because of the gushing. With or without squirting, our sex is beyond my wildest dreams. But the times I am filling her and we are both lost in each other, and Us, effortlessly, and I feel hot laser-like streams of fluid painting my genitals, I find it very hard not to follow suit.