orgasms

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   

hungry

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

 

 

The Little Death

The French refer to orgasm as “la petite mort” or the little death.  I have always been a Francophile and obviously I am also a fan of orgasms, so it seems fitting to write of this phenomenon.

The orgasm.  The mere mention of the word in mixed company can elicit smiles, sighs, daydreams, anxiety, erections and a host of other emotions.  It is quite the buzzword (no pun intended).  Is it merely a physical response or it there something more to it? Why is it so easy for some to have an orgasm, while it is elusive for others?

I am no expert, but I can share with you my journey; my love-hate-love-infatuation-adoration relationship with knowing how to arrive at the big O.  It’s a path of discovery, trial and error, failed debacles and self-acceptance. First things first…Is orgasm merely a physical response to stimuli that builds up and then ends in release?  Or is there a mental component to “cumming”?

For me, I have to be in the right head-space to let go and have an O.  If my mind is not stimulated, my body will stage a coup and refuse me a proper ending…almost like a cliffhanger episode on a soap opera.  I have to feel connected and present in the moment.  I need to feel connected with my partner.  And most importantly, I have to feel comfortable in my own skin.  Free to say and do what comes naturally.  If I feel confined or inhibited in any way, I can see the next exit labeled, “orgasm ahead’ I just cannot get there.  And it doesn’t matter who is driving…how fast or slow…it doesn’t matter the route, it’s not happening unless I am mentally there.  It may not be this way for everyone.  But again…this is just my story of O.

From a purely physical place, I am blessed that I am one of those lucky souls who is able to have multiple orgasms.  And for long periods of time.  Eventually, the well of bliss will run dry, but I have been known to soak through towels, sheets and mattress protectors.  It used to bother me that I “released” so much during my climax, but I’ve learned to embrace it as the gift it is.

Being a submissive who has certain appetite for pain, I have experienced orgasms through powerful scenes.  I recall one instance where I was flogged for a long period of time and it caused me to gush everywhere. Afterwards, I felt like I was floating.  I was told by my fellow subbies out there, that this is “subspace” a place of euphoria that follows a particularly intense session of play.  For me, there is nothing else that compares to this feeling.  Which brings me to…

The crying orgasm.  Not trying to bring the mood down, but I have experienced orgasms that make me weep.  It’s a rare occurrence, but it is beautiful and profound when it happens.  I have encountered these white whales when there is a deep emotional bond with my partner.  It’s a place of openness and vulnerability that is hard to replicate.  It is as real as it gets for me.  To experience such pleasure, such release, such emotion and such love.

Moving on….

What do you do when you have an orgasm?  Everyone is different…trust me, I have been with my fair share and I’ve seen and heard it all.  Some are silent throughout.  Some are so loud, you worry about the neighbors calling in a SWAT team.  Others are in between.

I’ve been with the newscasters…those who broadcast each and every detail of the scenario, from start to finish.  Often it’s not even dirty talk…it’s more like:  “my dick is so hard.  this is my favorite way to fuck.  oh yeah…oh yeah. my dick is about to explode.  here it is…here it is…”  And not that these types bother me, I rather enjoy hearing what they are experiencing, but if you’re on round two or three, it can get a bit monotonous.

I have vast experience with the “call of the wild” ones.  They usually let you know how much they are enjoying you, but trade in the descriptive banter for grunts, growls and feral-sounding screams when they orgasm and unload.  I find this type hot as hell.  Primal.  Earthly. Authentic.

There are the drill instructors.  “faster…slower…deeper…ride my cock…take that cock…fuck me…slow it down…give it to me now.”  And that’s just the first 30 seconds of the encounter.  They are bossy and demanding.  And in the right head-space, I love a drill instructor…but I could never enjoy that on a daily basis.  Just me, but I think that could become confusing!  And when they come, they announce it…every part of it…much like the newscasters.

As for myself…I am a bit loud.  I don’t even realize it.  I sound a lot like my “call of the wild” counterparts.  And on a handful of occasions, I have laughed hysterically during an orgasm.  Looking back, that laughter was a close relative to crying.  I was so overcome with emotion, that I laughed my cock-filled ass off.  But that is a rare happening.

To the women who are reading this…do you experience clitoral orgasms, G-spot orgasms, anal orgasms, or D…all of the above?  I have had them all.  And the G-spot orgasm is hands-down (no pun there) my favorite.  It is unlike any other feeling of pleasure for me.  A real bonus is when I have all 3 of these at the same time.  That has only happened one time in my life.  It was so profound, I had to take a day off of work to process it.  It was mind-blowing and life-changing.  And I am always ready to relive the experience….Really ready.  It’s got me daydreaming.

You know what?  I could use that day off.

the o