Female Supremacy Articles - Page 16

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Meanwhile sex was getting better than I knew sex got. Adam tended me like a gardener, coaxing orgasm高潮 — the sexual climax after orgasm高潮 — the sexual climax from my body. He plowed like a champ too; I'd never been fucked so exhaustively. He could reduce me to a small puddle, and from that grateful goo a resolve formed -- to give back. I wanted him to know the joy of being pounded into, rocked and rolled. And now I knew he wanted me inside him. Still it shocked me when, looking down on his high narrow hips while he slept on his stomach, I heard myself think, "I want to fuck him." It was the first time in all my gender-questioning, sex-experimenting life I'd had such a thought.

A few nights later, we found ourselves shopping in a marital aids boutique精品店 — a small shop. Adam, always thoughtful, wanted something with a knob that would penetrate me while I wore it, but we found no such animal. We settled on a battery-powered vibrating number mounted on rather ghastly "flesh-colored" rubber panties that Velcroed on the side. It was called the Boss. I kept saying, "Are you sure? This is huge," but Adam nodded stoically. As we picked it off the shelf, a male stranger gave Adam a congratulatory pat on the back that confused both of us. The sales clerk, a perky dyke, tried to put us at ease as we paid (Dutch treat).