Finders, keepers

Its Sunday morning and after a very busy week I am enjoying a morning of coffee and blog-catch up in bed. Who would have thought that signing up to all these extra curricular classes with the Russian would mean so little time and energy for other things. The Russian seduction project is still work in progress, though he now utters ‘Hello xxx’ and my name every day. Ok, so this is a long way off getting intimate with him, but its a start.

I’ve just read a cry for help by Bad Girl Bloggers on where and how to find her G-spot. And so I wanted to share my valuable lesson in finding it and keeping it.

It wasn’t until I was in my early 30s that I actually came across my G-spot. Or more specifically, that he found it. We had been out for dinner after work. I knew he was trying to seduce me and played along, though in my mind I also knew there was no way I was going to bed with him. The restaurant was just around the corner from our office and so after dinner, lecherous boss and I returned to the office to collect our laptops. We were both slightly drunk after sharing pre-dinner cocktails and a bottle of wine. Waving briefly at the security guard, we took the lift up to the 9th floor. The open plan office was dark, only the lights of the city outside cast an eerie yellowish tint to our surroundings. The air was still, stifling as the air conditioning was switched off at night. We walked to our desks to pick up our bags. As I bent down to unlock my drawer, he pushed me against my desk. I turned around and he stood in front of me, his hands positioned either side of my hips against the desk, locking me in his embrace. I held his gaze, trying to frantically communicate without speaking that I did not want him. Keeping his eyes fixed on mine, he moved his hand down my leg, pulling up my black pencil skirt. His fingers felt their way up my thigh and I could see a flash of surprise and then lust as he found the top of my stocking.

I didn’t move, I could feel his breath on my face. I felt his fingers fumble past my knickers and press against my cunt. He separated my labial lips and pushed his finger inside. I let out an unintentional sigh at this sensation. I didn’t want to encourage him, but at that moment my eyes closed and that thing in my brain suddenly flipped. He could have been anyone, I let the red darkness take me and focused my entire being on the sensation of his finger in my pussy. It was all about that moment. I was alive. There was no yesterday and no tomorrow.

He moved closer and I could feel the weight of his body pushing me against the desk, his hand pressed over mine, the edge of the table digging into my palm. And all the while his middle finger continued to move deeper inside me as I kept my eyes closed. I could feel a distant, but then an ever growing tingle as he moved his finger, beckoning me to him. It was quite unlike clitoral stimulation, which feels like ripples on the surface. This was different. There was an undercurrent tugging me deeper into the fleshy sea. A moment of panic as the sensations built into a frenzy and my mind let go, letting myself be pulled under and drowned by the waves. I came involuntarily, with sharp intakes of breath, my knees suddenly giving way and I slid down, my back scraping the edge of the desk. I didn’t know what had happened. He knelt down in front of me and asked me if I was alright. I opened my eyes again and saw his concerned expression.

‘I think you may have just found my G-spot.’ He laughed and said he had no idea how or what he had done to locate that elusive place.

I never let him finger me again after that. He has tried many times since, but he sets off distant alarm bells. I can’t quite put my finger on it (excuse the pun), however, I know he would be dangerous to get involved with.

A few weeks later, I was alone at home and frustration levels were running high (a little like this morning). I sat on the edge of my bed and inserted my right middle finger inside my pussy. I wanted to find out what he had done to cause such an intense orgasm. And so I pushed deep inside at the same angle his hand would have been and began to explore. I felt a slightly rougher, spongier spot inside and began to ‘beckon’ with my finger. Without touching any other part of my pussy, I managed to make myself orgasm. It took a little while, but with a persistent and regular motion of my finger, the same deep waves shook me.

And so I am grateful to lecherous boss for that. He found my G-spot and I’ve kept it. I haven’t even told my husband where it is. It is like a little part of me that I keep hidden from everyone. I may just go in search of it right now…

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under General

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s