Dodging Responsibility

I had a big list for today. I got through a pile of other stuff that I found while organizing my list, then just could not face recreating my lost checkbook from bank statements and paying all my (overdue) bills. So I took a little break, read, ate cake, faced the pile again...

...and then ducked out, grabbed my favorite Doc Johnson Multi-Speed Bullet Vibe (it's a fetching orange; favorite setting: Roller Coaster), my lovely red and white silicone dildo in the shape of a woman (her breasts make a bump against what I assume is my G-spot), took off my pants, fired up internet porn, and masturbated happily and somewhat compulsively to six orgasms. Might have been seven. God damn, it's good to be past thirty.

I noted that orgasms alone are almost - but not quite - as intense as orgasms with someone else, but do not achieve quite the same sensation of release afterwards. On the other hand, the lack of total release leaves me wound up enough to have another one five minutes later, so I suppose it's a tradeoff.

Should you, Gentle Readers, be of a gender or persuasion that would like more detail, I will leave you with this: midway through, I switched from lying on my back with my little blanket to kneeling, leggings and blanket around ankles, thrusting with Ms. Red-and-White, short strokes followed by deep thrusts, tilting to increase the pressure on the back wall with the tip and the front wall with the bump, while pressing and sliding the bullet on the left side of my clit, teasing with direct vibration that increases and decreases, then taking it away, and at the last minute, popping the speed to high and steady as I feel myself clench rhythmically around the toy and my breath comes hard, face flushing, backs of the knees sweating, sinking down to feel the smooth rubbery base against my body, then switching to low to sustain the feeling as long as possible...

The blanket has ducks on it.