Time is tapping on my shoulder and I have to be somewhere, so I'll make this quick. During my life thus far, I've had numerous dalliances with men of my own ilk and while some were satisfying many were not. However, it's the satisfying ones that I draw on from time to time as a trigger-point to enhance my sessions and indeed, my vivid imagination will take me back through the TIME TUNNEL of unique, pleasurable raw-lust. Last night was a trip down that tunnel, but something was different. My MGX got me rolling off to a good start, some incredible vibratic waves shimmering up and down my loins and twirling around my abs, all unassisted by way of contractions, just happily purring along to their own rhythm. Then it came time to change things up a bit, so I switched out the MGX for ProGasm. Feeling a little tired, I dozed off with Pro in place. How long I napped, I don't recall, but suddenly, there was a knock on the back door that startled me. My response was slow, relaxed and easy. I had already lubed Pro with a coating of Vaseline finished with a top coat of ID Silicone so it was still nice and slippery and was not struggling for easy movement. Well, this is where things took a turn, the in-voluntaries kicked in fairly swiftly, really surprised me as to the pace, which kept building greater and greater like none other in the past, then, flashes of a blog that I had just read from BigOluver washed over me and squirmed me with heightened arousal that would not cease and I began to insert my own images into his text that ramped things up. I was now, not only subjected to my own vivid imagination but the colors painted by BigOluver were reshaping my canvas with mighty desirable strokes of the brush. As the Pro switched gears, I was now in the fast lane. I had no choice but to simply surrender. This V8 was 5.0 litre on a course with no boundaries. Who, in their right mind would impede the thrill of this ride. I can actually recall the moment when I questioned myself about stopping, thinking, is this too much? Surely this can't be this good, shouldn't be this good, how is it possible? I kept asking myself over and over, all the while my body quivering from head to toe. Spasmodic rhythms in total control rendered me Master over my own submission until The Master lost all control and rhythm took on its own rhythm of uncontrolled submission that found me soaked in a cocoon of white cotton, heaving, breathing, pleading for recovery. The plunging depths of action would not cease no matter what, my nipples swollen, hard and tingling, were on fire resonating through the conduit of blissful nerve pathways en route back and forth from my swollen bulbous, magic button, screaming pleasure from inside of my bum. If that wasn't enough to send me over the edge, wait! The auto-fucking was in full swing, but I sensed it wanted to go deeper, so I assumed the position on all fours, bum raised and stretched wide. Argh, argh, argh, no way, no way … man, this was now insane. The visions racing through my mind were being projected at 100 frames per second and I actually began to cry incessantly and my face was forced down on the pillow. The crying was deep and profound. I was fully conscience of thinking how incredibly primal this was, that it was ok, that it was supremely normal, and that it had reached in so deep that my natural fibers are finally awake and sighing a long awaited expression of relief.
I've had many "super O's" but this was a whole different kettle of fish, and I should warn you, limit this to once per week and mix it in with a few "super O's" the rest of the week. This morning I woke feeling like I had just ridden The Kentucky Derby … or had it ridden me!