My Triumph

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My name is Voln, and I am a sexsomniac. It sounds better than it really is. With those that I have been intimate with, I tend to grope them while I sleep. It didn’t used to be an issue, though over the years and with the new stresses of life, that would not be the choice way to initiate sex. That is what has happened with my lover. She is no longer turned on by the direct approach. She has brought this invasion of privacy to my attention. “You would have gotten sex but you went right for my crotch. If only you had just cuddled.” So any time I think of sex, I think of reaching over, placing my thumb at her sternum and holding her chest under her left breast. Holding her close and cherishing her. I am hoping to train myself to these new stipulations.

I went to sleep early so my sexomnia is less likely to rears its head. Though I still had the thoughts of sex keeping me awake, I knew how to take care of this. I retired to the restroom and began furiously rubbing myself. I concentrated on the thoughts as I approached cumming. I reached under my sac to hold back my flow and faced the toilet. I release myself into the bowl, wiped off and returned to bed. Sleep came quick and I was off into dreamland.

Images began invading my sleep. Armed troops busting through the front door of a fortified trabzon escort base. Monkeys using sticks to get at the tastiest grubs burrowed into a tree trunk. Meteors smashing through the surface into underground caverns. These images began to blur into one and as they came into focus, I could see my lover beneath me in the throes of passion. I leaned my head back in triumph as I have trained myself to get what I want. I breathe into the air, “YES!” “Oh gods, yes”, I hear from beneath me.

Now that I am no longer on autopilot, I drive myself into her, letting her know how good I am feeling about myself and how great this feels. I drive harder and faster into my groove. My rhythm has been praised by many people, and most weren’t even in the room at the time. I looked down to her breasts and watched them make ellipses to the beat. I leaned over and held them tight close to my face. I love the feeling of her skin upon mine, especially her silky breasts. It didn’t take long with all of the stimuli until I felt I was approaching the usual place I release. Though nothing was cumming, so I continue harder and faster. After a few more thrusts, I pulled her away from the wall fearing a bumped head would ruin the mood.

I needed more pressure and more friction to reach my second trabzon escort bayan climax. I reached under her left ass cheek and lightly scratched her over her ass, down her thigh and grasped her muscular calf. I pulled it up and over to my left and straddled her other leg. I held her top leg to me and continued thrusting into her. Her face has turned into the pillow and I could hear the muffled moans and screams coming from her. I felt god-like. My hands had turned her leg red from holding so tight. I am sure the underside of her leg was red as well. She had no qualms about those marks, nothing was taking away from the pleasure she was screaming into the pillow. Both legs were clenched around me, holding me tightly to her. Her moans had peaked again in prolonged squeals. It was time to change position again.

I pulled her up onto her knees and pressed them together with mine. Her face was buried and yet I can still hear her moans. Without missing a beat I ram into her again and again prolonging her orgasm beyond her dreams. Again I can see her breasts moving in circles and peaking out from her sides. I dig my hands onto her hips and push deeper into her each time. She turned her head to the side and I could see wet spots on the pillow from her eyes. They were not tears of escort trabzon pain, but passion. I had achieved this level of pleasure before and knew it was an excellent sign. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back in triumph. When I turned back I noticed her head was getting dangerously close to the wall again. I leant back pulling her away from the wall and pounded up into her. This time as I felt myself climax, something was cumming. I slow down and made each stroke longer and deeper until a released into her, holding tightly for a moment and falling back.

When I landed, I felt our juices land on my chest from my penis flopping onto my stomach. Our scents filled my nostrils and they refused to let me grow soft. Her scent alone is my personal aphrodisiac. One whiff of her and I am instantly turned on. I let my breathing calm to a more manageable pace. Instead of asking the silly questions like, “how was it?”, or “didja cum?”, I looked down to her and asked, “How about another round?” I heard some mumbling, but I couldn’t quite understand what she had said. “I am guessing the words of Zapf Brannigan, ‘the mind is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised.'” She responded with a thumbs-up in the air. I leaned back in the bliss and enjoyed the smell of sex permeate my nostrils.

The feeling of accomplishment was immense. I had trained myself successfully and everyone has gotten what they wanted. I was happy.

She reached down to me and squeezed my knee; her command came in the husky exhausted voice I loved, “come here.” Who was I to deny her?

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