035 Was this the Monday from Heaven or Hell?
Drying off and putting my sports bra back on and some shorts I went to the living room and cleaned up the few condom wrappers that didn’t get put in the trash, picked up all the towels and started them in the washing machine. The place looked like a complete wreck but in reality it only took maybe 5 minutes to clean up. I dreaded the kitchen though, it always got the messiest as I used it a lot. But as I went in there looking to clean it up, my guys had done a really good job! Everything was done, dishes, counters, hell even the stove was cleaned.
The floor in the kitchen didn’t get cleaned but that was fine and in my opinion would be too much to ask, after all they’re not a cleaning service they’re friends that I like to have fun with. I called out to my digital assistant [DA] to start the Roomba and let it do it’s job. I got my clothes arranged in the closet for the week ahead. Yes I have a space in my closet that I hang my clothes I intend to wear for the week so that I don’t have to think about it early in the morning when I’m getting dressed. I just grab them in order, left to right and away I go. It’s sort of an Albert Einstein thing, which is where I got the idea, except I actually have different things I wear and not just an identical outfit over and over.
I grabbed a huge gym bottle of water and sat down on the couch. I needed to re-hydrate after the weekend and especially all the alcohol I drank. Watching the TV I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up a couple of hours later, it was 1900. Hell I needed the sleep and I knew it. Feeling more relaxed I flipped channels on the TV. It amazed me, 9 million channels and maybe 4 actually had anything good on them. I settled on the Fail Army channel as it was mindless and I didn’t have to think, which is relaxing as at work that’s all I do all day is deal with customers, management, and technical problems.
As I sat there after about 15 minutes I kept thinking about the weekend that was ending and everything that had happened. Just thinking about it kept me in a state of constant arousal. I wanted something to do that was sexually related but my vagina was starting to hurt a bit and felt like it was swelling. Like when you take a paint ball to your head at close range. and you get a lump. Yes I like going and playing paint ball. I play a couple of times a month, and since the gigantic implants it’s much more difficult. Not only the weight I have to carry around, but they stick out so damn far that I can’t hardly shoot from cover unless it’s cover that I stand up over. Every time I try to shoot from the side and have to lean left or right the damn things stick out so far that I get shot in the tit most of the time. So I’m now the one that hangs back and either manages a lane or is the sniper. And let me tell you trying to manage a paint ball gun with a 22″ barrel isn’t exactly easy.
The soreness of my vagina was very obvious to me and while it hurt it was turning me on because it reminded of me of it became sore. This was actually getting uncomfortable I was getting so turned on. I still can’t believe me, after all the sex that was almost constant for the last 2 days I was still turned on. I needed to let my vagina recover even though it was sore I still felt like I wanted more. After about 15 minutes of this I decided to get my long toy I taught myself to deep throat with.
I still used this at least 2 times a week because I like it and I like the idea of being able to deep throat a guy. James and Mike, my guys, weren’t so long that I could really deep throat them, just a bit of their cock heads actually went into my throat. But it was enough I could swallow and my muscles grabbed them and they really reacted to that.
Giving it a quick wash as I always do I went back to the couch and watched Fail Army while I slowly pressed my throat muscles open with the long toy and stroked it in my throat never pulling the top out of my throat, but repeatedly stroking my throat with it in and out. I wasn’t using much of it, which is open for interpretation as it is 22″ long, but I was maybe pushing and pulling probably 11-12″ in and out. I could feel it pressing against the back of my throat as it bent and curved to make the turn created by my throat to get it pointed down my esophagus. I tried to think of this as a massage but it did actually make my throat sore if I did it too much and then I basically had a sore throat. Way not good.
I only did this for maybe 20-30 minutes. Besides it’s not like a real penis that’s hard would bend like this does. To keep from having a sore throat I slowly pushed almost all of it down my throat all the while sitting on the couch and watching TV. I consciously had to think about just keeping my throat muscles relaxed and just let it sit there holding them open unlike their normal state of closed. I was holding on to the shaft just below the top at the other end and concentrating on keeping calm and my throat relaxed, while ağrı seks hikayeleri I had probably 18-19″ of this thing down my throat. I swear I could feel it sitting on the opening that led to my stomach.
Authors note:
Yes I know this sounds unrealistic and very far fetched but this is how I have become since my divorce and having a very repressed sex life for so long.
I sat there for probably 20 minutes just holding this toy in my mouth. While having to keep a towel handy for the drool that it was causing. This caused me to wonder how I’d do trying to swallow with a shaft holding my throat open and not just the top of a cock that would get squeezed backwards when I did.
I got up and walked to the bathroom, leaving my training toy in place with only holding on to the shaft behind the tip with my teeth. It was an interesting sensation contracting my abdominal muscles to get up. Not to mention the sensation of walking with something all the way down your esophagus. I’m still not sure if it feels good or not, it’s really impossible to explain it seems.
Pulling it out of my mouth like a magician performing a trick, except with a lot of saliva. I spit in the sink and rinsed the toy off. I took a couple of drinks of water and rested a minute or so. I stood in front of the mirror, took a few deep breaths and inserted the toy back in my throat. I just put the tip in as I did when I was first learning to do this. Holding the rest of the toy still watching myself in the mirror I closed my eyes relaxed, took a deep breath and contracted my throat muscles like I was swallowing.
With the shaft only having so much give to it I felt my muscles press on it. It hurt and I gagged. I gagged again. I lurched for the toilet as my throat rejected what I had tried to do, as it forced the toy back out, I threw up in the toilet.
With eyes watering and nose running I cleaned my face up and flushed. Standing back up I rinsed my mouth out at the sink as well as the toy.
Ok that wasn’t the best experience. But now I had a goal. There is something about having to do something that I want to do despite how weird it might be. I was going to do this again. This had to be some sort of disorder I thought. Ya there was something definitely wrong with me to obsess about not only this but everything sexual it seemed. Jesus, why didn’t I take up quilting or something more normal to obsess over?
Once again, I forced my throat open and felt the top pop past and my muscles clamp down on the shaft. Again with the calm deep breathes, I tried to swallow again. While this hurt it caused my vagina to tingle. Again I had to head for the toilet, as I threw up again. Rinse and repeat, literally.
I did this probably 8-10 more times. Every time having to kneel over the toilet until there was nothing left in my stomach and I just dry heaved. This was really tough. But how many women could do this I thought. Also thinking, why was I so obsessed with this?
I was actually sweating by now I guess vomiting took a lot of energy. I wiped my face off and went to the kitchen. Refilling my gym bottle with water I took a drink, wow that hurt. I guess that made sense if you over work a muscle that’s not used to it, it will be sore. Pausing to think about this for a few seconds I thought, you know I have ice packs to stick in my vagina, basically, why not my throat? I mean they’re clean and sanitized.
Grabbing a cooling insert I use for my vagina I ran a bit of water over it to warm just the surface so it didn’t freeze my saliva. Like sticking your tongue to a frosty pole in the winter. I then slid it into my mouth and past the back of my throat. It slid in really easily as it was very smoothly tapered and not nearly as wide. Being only 7″ long not much went past the back of my throat, which was all I needed. Besides I didn’t want to lose the thing in my esophagus and not be able to get it out, and choke to death.
It felt great, it was cool and soothing. Gently stroking it in and out my throat began to feel much better, still sore but not like it was. A few minutes later still standing in the kitchen, I cleaned it off, and put it back in the freezer.
Leaning against the counter there I was thinking about how to pull this off. Yes it’s a fucked up obsession, I know.
Authors note:
Yes this seems unrealistic. I have been to counseling for this, and I still go even today. I’m diagnosed with an obsessive disorder that happens to be related to my sexless 20’s. This is no different than being born with bad eyesight, or any other disability. It’s just something I have had to learn to manage. Think of it like Turrets Syndrome that with practice and therapy can be controlled to an extent enough to function in normal society.
I walked back to the bathroom and cleaned the toy again as I laid it on the counter top. Staring at myself in the mirror I was thinking this through like I would any other problem at work. Then it occurred to me, I had sore throat spray in the cabinet. I grabbed the bottle and sprayed the back of my throat with 5-6 sprays. In a few seconds it started to feel numb. I sprayed the end of the toy with it as well.
Giving it about a minute to take effect I gently pushed the toy back in my throat and stroked a couple of inches back and forth to ensure that the numbing liquid was spread out. Pulling the top just to the back of my muscles where I could feel it just touching the back side of them, I took a breath and tried to swallow again. I gagged and coughed through my nose. But that was it. I didn’t throw up.
I gave my throat muscles about a minute to re-relax. Then tried again. And again I was stopped from completing the muscular contraction for swallowing and gagged, then wretched again. But that was it, I didn’t try to vomit. I was on to something. This made it better but still not what I was trying for. I wanted to be able to contract my muscles to swallow and be able to not gag. I took a break for a bit.
Going back about 10 minutes later I sprayed my throat and the toy again. Again I did the same thing. And again I gagged, coughed out my nose then wretched. This was a motherfucker of a thing to try and do. Had anyone else ever tried to do this? Was this even physically possible.
I tried this 4-5 times then rested between each try. Hell it was like I was doing sets on a weight exercise at the gym. I guess people have special workouts for gymnastics, track and field, swimming, and this was similar. Was I so obsessed with sexual things that I was actually ‘working out’ trying to accomplish things?
I stopped about 2030hrs cleaned up and went to bed. I had to get up early for work and the gym as usual. I laid down and I swear I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. The next thing I knew my alarm was going off at 0500. Wow that seemed like only a 20 minute nap. I was groggy and had a tough time keeping my eyes open. Hitting snooze once I immediately went back to sleep. 9 minutes later, why is it always 9 minutes for snooze, the alarm went off again.
I finally sat up and turned the damn thing off. There was no way I was making it to the gym still this tired. I turned, put my feet on the floor, stood up and immediately felt a sharp pain and fell down. Wow something hurt. It was totally unexpected as when I went to bed sure I had soreness, inside and out, but it wasn’t bad. I rolled over, sat up on my knees and slowly started to get up. My hips were really sore and it hurt to put weight on them. Not to mention the extra 16lbs of tit I had to haul around.
Gingerly I moved each leg to move the joints in them as well as the muscles that were tight. Hell I went to yoga to keep from being sore in general but damn it sure didn’t seem to do much for this. Extending each leg out and back while on my hands and knees a few times I started to get up again. Holding on to the night stand and bed, I helped lift myself up. As I started to support my weight on my legs they hurt with soreness, and as my abdominal muscles contracted my vagina was much more sore than last night.
I stoop up eventually and shifted my weight to each leg while holding on to the night stand at arms length. The soreness became tolerable and I was able to walk. Ok it was more of a waddle, that by the time I made it to the bathroom turned into a limp. Fucking hell was I going to need a cane or crutches from being fucked? That had to be a record or some shit.
Moving around and very carefully getting dressed I started to become more ambulatory. The 800mg of Motrin helped a lot when it finally started to hit. That bottle was going to work with me that was for damn sure. Getting breakfast and coffee I was definitely not making it to the gym after the apparent abuse my body took over the weekend. But damn it was fun!
I decided to just go into work early before rush 5 hours, also hoping to leave work before the evening battle in traffic to get home. I walked to my car, loaded my laptop bag, me and my tits in and went to start it. I pressed on the clutch and I though my guts were going to come out my ass. Holy fuck that hurt. I mean fucking hell should I buy a different car that’s an automatic?
Having to recover from that for a minute or so, I tried again, and same thing. Damn this was going to be like getting up and walking. A few more minutes of press and rest I was reasonably sure my guts weren’t going to fall out or shoot out of some opening. I managed to start my car and get going to work.
The parking garage was pretty empty because it was a little over an hour before the morning shift people showed up. Making my way to my office the stairs were equally as challenging, up as well as down. I had to mull over the decision to go down them and back up just to get coffee. I was feeling better but I still hurt. Damn I didn’t see this coming!
After the adventure of getting coffee I started my day as I usually do, emails, environment checks, etc. First shift came in and they all gathered in the open area of the NOC. Shit! It was time for the morning meeting. I gingerly got up and walked down stairs, hitting the button that opened the door so I didn’t have to push it like the couple I already had, and immediately regretted.
I tried to walk over to the NOC as normally as I could, but I could tell I had a limp as could everyone else. I was asked about and explained I rolled my ankle over the weekend. The meeting went as usual, turn over from the night shift to the morning shift and the light workload that was still needing to be finished up.
I noticed that the new guy Brandon wasn’t there. Ok he’s late was he going to be one of those problem employees that I couldn’t really do anything to because he was hired by the CEO directly? This would cause a problem, and a bad one if the rest of the team noticed his getting slack and no one else getting the same.
I walked back toward my office door at the bottom of the stairs and got there just as Brandon walked through the man trap door. I was standing right inside the door in the area that was at the bottom of the stairs, probably a 6X8 or 6X10 foot sort of landing for stairs. It’s comfortable enough for 2 people to stand apart and talk without invading personal space. And it’s well lit so you don’t trip over the first step.
Me
“Running late?” I asked with an annoyed tone.
Brandon
“I’m really sorry.”
The door started to close as I’d used the handicapped button to open it. Brandon caught it with his hand. It was actually a pretty heavy door so I stepped back and he stepped in. Besides it was much quieter and helped block out the constant dull roar of all the cooling systems and fans.
Me
“We have the morning meeting at 0810 to give everyone a minute or 2 to get in, get coffee, go to the restroom and the like. I would expect that to be enough time to get settled with a little leeway.”
Brandon
“I know. I was in the mens room, I wasn’t able to, ummm, be at the meeting.”
This was actually difficult for me to talk with him in a professional manner, after the incident in the parking garage. Not to mention him having pants that could barely conceal his penis that would be easily visible as it hung down his thigh, and rattled around in his pant leg.
Brandon
“Kind of having a wardrobe change that I’m getting used to.”
This was skirting the line of professionalism and sexual tension. He was having trouble not looking at my breasts, which I was used to, and honestly loved it when that happened. But co-workers were off limits and I tried to dress down, not that it ever did any good.
Me
“Well you’re business casual and you look just fine for the work place.” I said trying to be understanding and professional, while trying not to think about his gigantic hard-on that was sticking out under the material of his pocket in the parking garage a few days ago.
Brandon
“I’m just trying to draw less attention to ummm, as; well; you ummm… noti…” He trailed off. Trying to be professional but informative of his garment struggles like I had. Except there was no hiding my struggles. At lest he was trying, sadly.
He was aware as was I of the sexual tension that was almost so thick you could cut it with a knife. With that he stepped back with his left leg a little letting his right leg stay in front of his left slightly as he shifted his weight on to his back leg.
When he did that, his pant leg tightened over his right thigh and unmistakably silhouetted his monstrous appendage that we both knew was there.
I don’t think he was intentionally trying to show it off as he still seemed nervous. It was thick, like one of the smaller 8oz Red Bull cans like thick. And it looked like it was almost to his knee! I wondered if he was still calming down from the mens room?
I guess I was obviously staring and even I noticed my eyes get wide. Because he shifted his legs with his right in the back now trying to draw less attention. But there was still an obvious bulge no matter what he did in those pants.
Brandon
“Oh, gosh I’m really sorry! I wasn’t trying to, I mean I didn’t mean to…”
He was obviously nervous as I would expect a younger guy to be.
Me
“No, I apologize I wasn’t meaning to stair.”
Brandon
“I just don’t want to break any HR rules about harassment or anything.”
Me
“I get it. But as far as HR is concerned someone has to be offended or feel treated improperly. I think it’s obvious that I have gotten used to the stairs. And I am very understanding of, well, similar issues. So I don’t get bothered easily, and I really don’t get offended hardly ever. I’ve had some people come to me with personal issues that they told me much more than they should have. I don’t judge I try to help however I can. If anything I don’t want to step over that line and offend or make you uncomfortable.”
Brandon
“Thanks you are really easy to talk to. And I don’t mind this discussion topic. As you’ve said you have to deal with something similar just much more obvious.”