Cocks and Cunts

Cocks are quite nice, I don't find them ugly I mean, I quite like looking at them from time to time, they can be rather beautiful.

It seems on the porn that I have watched this week, that they all look fucking gorgeous. Lovely and thick and just... yeah bloody great. As this is a new phenomena for me (to find every cock I see a bloody huge turn on), I think that's an indication that this current bout of orgasm abstinence is affecting me more than I realise and I am in fact, what could maybe described as "cock hungry".

Writing that and thinking of... well cocks, made me shiver. You know that full body shiver you get sometimes, that seems to start off from between your legs?

I want them, I practically salivate I think and I obsess about fucking and sucking and just cock, in all it's shapes and sizes, in every hole, till it hurts.

Hmmm, this is a little too frank and honest I suppose, but then I think most my blogs do tend to be a little that way. Despite me worrying that they show a completely one sided view of me and give the wrong impression. I find it impossible to write of anything other than desire and need and wanting.

Anyway, so back to the cocks… or maybe the abstinence. It's only been 4 days in truth. Well no, a week of control and abstinence, with one little tiny orgasm by mistake on Wednesday, really, honestly a mistake. I played too close to the edge and it ran away with me. So one mistake, the first and the last.

I am trying to make "it's not my cunt" my mantra, it's a reminder to take my hand away when I am so close it seems so hard to stop. I have edged before, but seem to be finding it so hard this week, perhaps because I had been through a period of cumming a lot before this venture. Or because it is the time of the month where my libido starts to peak (I am not really looking forward to next week, expect more smut, or desperate wanton poetry).

I feel I need to learn how to do it all over again. It's the struggle between getting close enough for it to ache (after all that is the intention) but not so close that it runs away with you, or that you can't stop, with the added problem that it's always tempting to get closer and closer, nearer and nearer to the point of no return, because after all it feels so fucking good. Cunt aching, pleasure radiating in greater increasing intensity "just that little bit further" you think. Which of course is getting caught up in your own pleasure, convincing yourself that a little bit more won't hurt, that you can control it. Which was the cause of the mistake on Wednesday, playing too close to the fire and getting burnt.

There is something quite seductive with being curled in a ball, body rigid, taught with passion and wanting, knowing that if you were to touch your cunt for a second you might explode and waiting for the ache, the dull mocking ache to subside from between your legs.

I've been playing it a little safer since the mistake on Wednesday, but I feel my edging isn't edgy enough. Perhaps I am trying to run before I can walk, I need to build it up, practise. I need to learn how to play safely at a lower intensity and build up, getting closer and closer to the edge. So I know exactly how far I can go, so I know exactly when to stop, and there isn't that occasion selfish internal voice that whispers "go on, just one". So that I can always remember the purpose of the exercise, and so that in the moment that I get caught up in my pleasure, I can remember his pleasure, and the reasons I am playing with my cunt and what it is I am to achieve, and what it is he wants. So I can take may hand away and not find my fingers wandering back.

So that I can remember that it's not my cunt.