Frustrated Coming

J was fingering me- rubbing my clit, reaching inside my pussy. Kissing my neck. Rubbing furiously. My mind was racing:

Come dammit! COME!! Why am I not coming?? Have I been using my Hitachi too much?! Is my clit calloused? Have I damaged myself? I want J to get me off! I’m a bad partner if I can’t come with my partner! Right?? What’s wrong with me? Come! COME! COME!!
Needless to say, I didn’t come. Talk about performance anxiety. It all felt so good, and yet my body was just aching to come and couldn’t. My legs started twitching and aching and kicking, and I started to cry. I just want to come, I whimpered.

J offered to tell me a story. What do you want to hear about? he asked.

I want to have sex with a girl, I said softly.

First of all, J is the master of dirty talk these days. Second of all, a lot of my masturbation fantasies lately are about women. Long story short, I found out that my clit is not broken after all! (Whew)

J’s story took me to our swingers’ club, where I met a super hot girl. We make eye contact, we start dancing in the cage together, slowly taking finger tips to touch each other. Bam! I came once. And as the story progressed, I came like five or six more times. I don’t even think J finished the story! A testament to his story-telling skills. And just generally him being an amazing lover.

Last night, J and I went to our swingers’ club and while it was kind of a weird vibe there and not very many people in our age cohort, we did end up meeting a new, cute, young couple. The woman and I ended up kissing a little, which I loved. My big mistake?! Not giving them our email address before we left! What the heck?! Who does that? Apparently me, when I’m a little buzzy from both too much wine and kissing a girl.

So, if you’re out there, cute girl, I hope I see you again.

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