Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
*Read Part 1.*
The fourth time with the new toy was a mixed, weird, confusing experience. Suffice it to say, this guy requires lube — lots of lube. I had already done a blended orgasm with my new glass toy (more on that later) to prime my vaginal opening, get the juices flowing, start stretching the vaginal muscles inside, etc. As before, the head took a couple of tries to fully enter, and as the head/corona passed my prostate, I felt a slight sting, but it wasn’t as bad as the first few times. I thought, “Great, I’m adjusting to him.” Then feeling the shaft enter, I was breathless again at the feeling of being so very filled and stretched.
Since I’d started my session early, around 10:30 a.m., I felt no rush to finish with Bob. In fact, over the next couple of hours, I would do a round of sliding him in and out slowly for about 15 minutes, then pull him out, and relax in a blissful stupor for another 20 to 30 minutes, having nipple orgasms, sheet orgasms, clit and spontaneous O’s, then I’d reach for Bob again for another slow and easy go of it.
Each time, I did not bring myself to climax with Bob, just enjoyed the orgasms from the slow and steady pace and the occasional hard and fast thrusting and pulling out to float in that bliss for a while, then starting it all over again.
Around 2 p.m., I began again, knowing I was wet from the other orgasms, I didn’t lube Bob this time. I noticed, he wasn’t moving as smoothly as he had before. I needed some lube. Then Stupid Me showed up and totally screwed this whole experience up. The feelings in my vagina were the same as when I endured friction sex while married. Though my ex- isn’t nearly this wide, he hated me getting too wet. He was circumcised and needed friction sex to feel anything. This dry, friction feeling was then “familiar,” and being a little lazy, I thought I’d just put up with it because I really wanted the great orgasms I’d had the other few times with this toy.
Every time Smart Me said, “Man, I need lube,” Stupid Me overruled that inner voice with, “You put up with it when you were married, put up with it now and finish.” As the friction got to be too much, Smart Me won the debate, and I put a little bit of lube on the toy and re-inserted. I felt immediate stinging, more stinging, then being filled by the shaft, and then a surge of heat — not in a good way. I continued on, now that he was properly lubed, imagining my Dream Man, and long story short, I finished. Yes, the orgasm was great… but it was… weird… but it was beautiful… but weird.
I felt a strange emotion — yes, I cried, but there was something else. During that last bit, I had a realization of just what this toy represented for me. The images and feelings conjured during this session were so intensely powerful, I instantly knew who he was. The experience had become emotional during the session, and now, afterward, I wanted to give him a name, a sacred name. And I did. And I cried some more. I lay there for a while in my reverie, feeling a new awareness of completeness.
Knowing I needed to get up, I realized my fingers felt a bit strange, so I looked at them. My hands were covered in blood. I wasn’t on my period. I looked at the toy, and he was bloody, too. I got up and went to the bathroom and opened my legs up to the full-length mirror. My labia and thighs were bloody, and I had an immediate flashback to when I was raped at 21, after which I bled for 4 days. I remembered a couple other times I bled a little after friction sex.
As it so happened with this fourth time with this toy, I bled that night and the next day, but that was it. I have not noticed any blood or change in vaginal discharge. I never felt any pain, aside from the uncomfortable-ness in the moment of the “friction sex” before I re-lubed the toy.
In fact, in the couple days since, today now being 03-03-13, I have enjoyed all my usual orgasms and my new gentle-touch prostate orgasms. Everything is functioning perfectly.
Which leads me to an esoteric interpretation… In the very emotional moments of that last part of the session, I had a very clear vision of my Dream Man. He was absolutely clear to me. He is a feeling and an energy. I knew him so well, I called him a sacred name for the very first time, and I subsequently bestowed that name on the toy who is his physical representation for me.
Blood has a life force. Blood used to be an important part of rituals and taking oaths. To this day, Christians symbolically ingest the blood of Jesus when they participate in the ritualized cannibalistic practice of Communion/Eucharist. As a pagan witch, considering who and what this energy/feeling began to represent — my Dream Man, I’m not surprised that blood would have manifested as a sort of initiation with this new, clear vision — a consummation, as it were.
And yes, I know I sound crazy — I’m an artist, I always sound a bit crazy. Most people are so keyed in to the physical side of sex or climax, they miss subtleties of energy or awakenings that may be present. This vision I saw is no different than imagining a scene in one’s mind to help the arousal process along, but the difference here is that he appeared to me, and I knew him instantly.
Esoteric interpretations aside, I will have to see how using “Bob” (no, that’s not his sacred name!) goes tomorrow or the next day. I did not bleed the other 3 times, so I’m hoping that with plenty of lube, Bob and I will be hunky-dorey in our future rendezvous sessions.
Seriously, though, this experience was powerful for me, and though the blood had me a bit worried for that day, I’m hoping it was just a fluke… or an initiation.
Aroused and pondering the possibilities,