Owning My Orgasm - (nc17 do not read if you are my family :))







Broken, she once said. out loud. multiple times.

                I feel, I am, I must be

                       B R O K E N.

I want to be thrown up against a wall, I want you

to be whatever it is I have been programmed to

                think a man should be

to pair with whatever I have been programmed to

              think a woman should be

                              in me.

I see, I think, through cloudy eyes, a faint


of hope that none of this is


She sees, she thinks, a faint


of hope that none of this is


Own your orgasm, she hears and tingles

head                        to                         toe

and suddenly that pinpoint of hope has a

location. a spot. a small charged path to

what she somehow knows is the road


      her clit.




Under the covers, after years of a steamy

triple A affair, she wonders.

                     fifteen minutes.

and she thinks, I can not wait any longer

for you                                           for him

and she thinks, I can not wait any longer

                           for me

Reaching for the thin gold timing device

opening what she has heard is called a


she stroked….and stroked….and stroked



opening what I have heard is a container


I stroked……………………....and stroked

                        and stroked.

Slow at first, and dry, just the smallest area

                            of me.

me                           to                            me.

fingertip to upper left quadrant. wondering

          what it would feel like wet

                  I suck my finger

drench it, tasting perhaps for the first time

                    my salty veil.

            oh, my breath hitches.


unchartered territory sends my brain traveling


what about him?


    up stroke up up up stroke

I wonder what he’s doing?


         up up over up up

I wonder if other people do this?


            stroke up over stroke

I wonder if my batteries would be faster


     up up faster up more pressure up

I wonder am I even doing this right? I drench

                    my fingertip again.


she drenches her fingertip again. She wonders


if she’s doing it wrong.

      and then her hips buckle.

        and her back arches

         her breasts saying hello to the sky

like greeting the oldest of friends




she can feel a dent in her skin and a

swelling she had never felt before. fascinated

in this tiny portion of her own body

she continues to stroke.

spreading a new dampness over what

had suddenly become expanded and ridged.

her hips begin to pulsate

the energy running through her entire body

different that anything she had yet

experienced. all from just. one. spot.

one tip               to                         one clit.

her breath hitches again

                        and again deeper this time

                                                  and again.

hips steady……………………...back arched

aware she is craving more she steadies focus

                        down there.

I don’t have to clench sheets she thought

hands otherwise occupied

my breasts do not have to be palmed to know

and then

                                                 it all stopped.

       all thoughts

                                   any ideas

anything other than the waves of energy the

                  waves of pleasure

the waves that can not be outrun as they ran

                  through her body

                  through my body


involuntary I have heard is what we crave.


in that moment seven and a half minutes later

I believe I rendered myself involuntary.

with one tip of one finger that was mine.

                    that is mine.

what will happen when that finger belongs

to another?

when I don’t have to be quiet for my roommate?

when I choose to share this

                       heavenly exploration

                     with a man?

                      maybe with a woman?

what will happen past seven and a half minutes?

what will happen when I….




the heat started just below her belly button




she sat alone in her candle lit office finding it

practically impossible to drag the pencil across

the page

the sirens echoed outside

the beat echoed inside against the walls

and her right hand could not help but begin

to explore

the entire span of her soft white skin.

is this foreplay? she thought breath deepening

her whole body tightened as her ass shot out

from behind her and she found herself

practically bent over her own glass desk.




I heard the voice say softly yet sternly





                TO TAKE ME TO BED


she slid her fingers between her lower lips


grinning as the moisture enveloped her.

who’s broken now

she whispered to the empty room

                                         not fucking me.

and she threw herself against her own


metaphorically speaking


making plans to be stroked

                         making plans to welcome

another’s finger tip.

                         making plans to share

the pleasure of her clit.

                         making plans to say yes.


learning that the pleasure was hers, inside.

stroking up, up, up

against those metaphorical


over…………….and…………... over

until the walls came down entirely

leaving her

                                            leaving me











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