A Rant on Squirting: Once it Starts, There’s No Stopping

I was rereading some of my old posts today, and I came across a comment by Little Miss, stating that she wanted to learn how NOT to squirt.  And, I remember thinking at the time, “What the fuck Little Miss?  Why would you not want to squirt?”

And, now don’t get me wrong.  I love to squirt.  I beg M, quite often, to make me squirt.  And once I’ve had a few squirting orgasms, they begin to erupt from me, with no end in sight.  Fuck, I soak the bed, through the sheets, on the mattress.  If my panties stay on, I can literally wring them out like a wet towel.  Not too long ago, during a rather intense night, I was squirting so much and so hard that both M’s chest and my tits were covered in my cum.  Once I’m out of control, just the touch of M’s tongue to my clit, or the penetration of one finger will have me erupting like Mt. Saint Helens.

And I wouldn’t give it up for the fucking world, but there are times when it’s not convinient.  Like the other night, M and I went for a walk at dusk.  We ended up in a local cemetery.  One thing leads to another and soon his hand is down my pants and his thick fingers are in my cunt.  He starts his manipulations, building me up for a gushing orgasm, and I say, “Sir, please just remember I have to walk home in these pants…”  And he laughs at me.  Or last week I met him on my lunch break, in the parking lot of Lowe’s.  We end up in the bed of his Semi, and there I squirt all over the place, and have to wear wet panties under my dress, concerned I reek of sex and cum for the rest of the day.

Again, I’m not complaining.  Not too long ago, I could only squirt once in a while (Thank you, as always, my dearest Hyacinthia), and after learning a few tricks (bear down ladies), I gained better control of these orgasms and leaned how to induce them, for lack of a better word.  But, silly me, thinking I had the control of these beautiful experiences.  Silly, silly me.  Because you know who has the fucking control of them?  Come on, I bet you can guess.  Yep, that’s right…  M.

And M, well, he doesn’t give a fuck if my panties are soaked.  He doesn’t give a fuck how wet the bed gets (fuck, I’m seriously considering buying rubber sheets to protect the mattress).  He doesn’t care that I don’t want to soak the seat in the van.  Because, what it comes down to is he wants me to.  Therefore I will.  Simple premise.  M wants.  M gets.  LSAM cums.  A lot.

And it fucking pisses me off.  I can make myself squirt.  But it takes a lot of orgasms and a lot of porn, a Hitachi wand, and quite a bit of time.  I can’t do it manually, no matter how hard I try.  But M, he can have me from talking about what dishwasher we are going to buy to cum running down my legs in under five minutes.  I guarantee it.  And, what makes me more angry than anything else.  There is nothing I can do to stop him.  Oh, I can fight it.  Try not to cum.  But the sensations become overwhelming.  I may try not to, but I can only take so much G-Spot stimulation, so much licking of my clit, before my raging orgasms overtakes my self-determination, leaving it standing in dust with cum dripping from it.

So, I guess my point in all this, is I have no fucking clue on how not to squirt.  Sometimes, I wish I did, just so I could be a brat and hold out my orgasms from M.  I don’t know why I would want to do this, but for some reason, it sounds like something I would want to do.  Because, perhaps, it gives me a bit of control.  Perhaps it’s because it’s my body, and I want it to listen to me.  Perhaps it’s because I become a blithering, panting, beast beneath his hands.  Who the fuck knows.

But, even as I write this, I’m shaking my head.  “You’re a little fucking liar, LSAM,” my self-talk says. “Your orgasms belong to M.  They are his.  YOU are his.  And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”  And she’s right, you know.  But fuck, what I wouldn’t give to simply have a shred of self-control when it comes to M and his fingers and his tongue and his cock…  Shit.  Fuck.  Damn.

49 responses to “A Rant on Squirting: Once it Starts, There’s No Stopping

  1. Ahhh to belong so wholly, so completely. TB can do that to me, get me squirting until I’m begging him to let me stop. But it takes work. I am somewhat envious of you LSAM.

  2. I know exactly how you feel. I can bring on squirty orgasms after alot of stimulation with my hitachi (oh how thankful I am to the hitachi gods). But with some fingers thrusting in my pussy and hitting my gspot I am gushing in seconds. And it’s ALOT !! I am investing in a plastic cover. I have shot 12 feet before. It’s fucking heaven. Good sex is messy sex. Oh well I continue to wash sheets and wouldn’t have it any other way!!

    • Ginger!! I’ve missed you! And I don’t know what the fuck I’d do if I didn’t have my Hitachi… I definitely would not be as, um… glowing. And 12 fucking feet! Christ woman!! *hugs and kisses* babe, hope all is well.

  3. It’s alright if you have a partner, although my first boyfriends mattress smelt so much of cum and sex that his mum had to buy him a new one!
    But I’m on my own now, so when I’m laid in my soaked bed I just think ah bugger. Need to change the sheet again.
    Now I have a ‘cum pillow’ which I squirt onto to absorb it more! TMI perhaps!

  4. Get a waterproof mattress pad and you’re golden. Also, I know EXACTLY how you feel. The Neighbor LOVES making me make a mess. We soaked two fucking towels recently and it was like I’d dropped it in a full bathtub. All he has to do is touch me and I’m gone and yes, bearing down will make it go FOR SURE, but I’ve yet to learn how not to wet myself. Particularly in public.

    But like M, TN badger don’t give a shit. And really, neither do I, I suppose.

    (Also, you added to my name! “Hyacinthia”?? Haha love it.). xx Hy

    • Ok, Hy, I’m fucking retarded. How about I never realized that it was “Hyacinth” and not “Hyacinthia.” Not once! With your name, or the fucking flower! I may have a pretty high IQ, but I’m not always the smartest girl! hehe.

      But yes, I was reading one of your posts the other day about how TN can make you squirt like no other, and it made me think of M, and how if anything ever happened between us, I’d really miss the fuck out of how he makes me cum. I suppose I’d miss some other things about him too, but you know what I’m sayin’. Love ya babe. Mwah!

  5. You said “I have no fucking clue on how not to squirt.” I have no problem believing this at all, because of a relatively early sexual experience I had in my teens. I was 18 and she was 16, and we were parked in the woods, while going at it hot ‘n heavy in the back of my brother’s Buick station wagon. She was really getting into it, moaning loudly and on the verge of screaming as her spread knees shook and legs quivered, while her hands uncontrollably clutched the spread sleeping bag beneath her into her tightly clenched fists…

    When suddenly, it happened! She squirted all over everything! Me, herself, the quickly drenched sleeping bag beneath her, and even a few splashes on the windows! And neither of us had ANY idea what had just happened, because neither of us had ever seen or experienced this ever happening before!

    At first, she was mortified with embarrassment, because she thought that she’d lost all control and pissed herself, but even though I was equally as clueless at the time as she was, I told her that I didn’t think she pissed herself, because the wetness all around us didn’t smell anything like urine, but had a more familiar smell that I knew and liked… But all the same we were still both stunned, cause if she had in fact really come that much, we both thought it must something that had never happened to anyone else ever before, in all of human history! Ahh, youth! LOL 😀

    After that, it happened again on a few more occasions, but I was more prepared, and had the back of my brother’s Buick covered with a rubber mattress, cause that first time required me to spend almost two hours of thorough cleaning at a car wash, since I wanted to be able to borrow my brother’s Buick again, sometime before the End of Time.

    But even after it happened a few more times, we were still young and ignorant, and still convinced that she was the only human female capable of this amazing feat. And I was feeling like Super Stud, cause I thought that I was the only guy who could make her do it… Lol 🙂

    I think it was literally not until years later, that we both finally learned that we both weren’t joint world record holders for the biggest cumming ever… Lol 🙂

  6. This is too funny! After just finishing this comment, I was chatting with a female friend, who said, “Been on my coffee for hours and just about to get another cup. At work… and swamped!”

    As soon as I saw the word “swamped!” I couldn’t stop laughing! 😀

    • HA!! I love it when non-sexual comments spark sexual thoughts. It happens to me all the time. The other day, I was with a client at the doctor’s office and the television was on in the waiting room. There was a commercial for a “men’s warehouse” where they sell suits and tuxs. And the commercial ended with “cuff and collar sale.” Fuck, it drew my attention like a fly to shit! I had to text M and tell him, because all I could think was “Damn, why couldn’t it be MY kind of cuffs and collars?” xoxox

  7. Oh the woes of the best orgasms ever. Sigh. Sir also doesn’t give a fuck about the mess I make, how loud I am, etc, etc. His cunty-cunt and his orgasm, so what he says goes–honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way, but I definitely get what you’re saying. However, we have been playing at orgasm control and denial for awhile, and I find that with the right amount of mental bondage, edging and such…I won’t cum, not matter how much I may want to. It’s all kinds of nice and awful. Heh.


    • Ah, Fatal dear… Yes, orgasm control. I have none. None what so ever. I’m often too zoned out to even ask permission to cum, which I am supposed to do. At least it only leads to a few cracks on the ass! But the orgasm denial and edging… Fuck, I hope M never gets it in his dirty little head that he wants to do that! *hugs and kisses* babe!

  8. We have this “problem”. Actually we mirror you & M. I don’t give a fuck and wring as many of them as I wish out of Leigh. She still has some of the good girl hangups but is getting over them. I tell her to embrace the gift she has to come in gallons.

    She has finally started to come around (heh) and realized she is capable of so many more than she thinks she has, even getting selfish. Good girl…

    The other evening was a 4 towel night, and more than once I have been standing naked in front of a washing machine at 1something AM stuffing soaked bed linens in while Leigh is doing the best job she can of lying down without holding on 🙂

  9. Once again, I’m laughing. Having changed the sheets this morning due to a great deal of orgasmic squishy delights, there was no choice. 🙂 We keep a basket of towels next to the bed, but even those aren’t enough some days.

    I can’t see ever wanting to stop being a sqirting orgasmic mess for Wolf. Although, the first time was rather a surprise, I’d never want to stop.

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