My body aches to feel touched. Since all recent sexual activity seems to be him pushing me over and slamming me from behind at some random moment to signify his interest, the lack of personal interest, intimacy, and desire leaves me rather unsatisfied.
For my birthday I bought myself several new tools for my artillery. Granted all of these new toys were couple-friendly. I think about us, always. I love to please my partner... but I love to know that he wants to please me too. He has lost all ability to show me this.
So, fuck him... or rather, not. I'm sick of waiting. Nearly a month since I purchased all this crap... and I haven't had a chance to use it. Like a school-kid who purchases all the new school clothes in July. Those new clothes stare the kid in the face all through July, August and September. Each day, they open their drawers and the clothes are dying to be put on. Calling to them. Clean. Unwrinkled. Fresh. ... they want to be worn.
This is how my toys are calling me. Especially going from full-fledged sexual addiction to a man that is satisfied to have sex once every other week or so. Not only am I throbbing with desire and hot blood... but my mind and body are screaming just as loud.
I take a nice hot bubble bath. Vanilla spice is all over me... and I'm tempted to lick my own skin. Something about the satiny smooth, freshness puts me in a serene state of sensuality. I lightly spritz my body with bath oil and my desire intensifies.
Finally, I am able to find a decent setting of the 14 available. I place it against me and it slides in like it was meant for me. And fuck does it ever. I just barely have time to get the C-spot against me and I'm already clawing at my bed sheets. MMmmmmm... 3 seconds... is that a record? I wish he'd catch me.
Fuck it... who needs him and I go for round two...