A Squirter For Real
Monday, July 19, 2021 11:01 AM
Some women squirt when they come. I state this fact in response to a comment I heard last week at a sex club. “She really squirted,” he said. “I thought that was only a porn thing.” It’s not.
She was the best looking girl at the club, which in this case was more like saying she wasn’t the ugliest girl in the world. A little compact and thick, she dressed up for the occasion, looking sexy enough in her heels and short skirt. She was nervous. That was clear. And she wasn’t wearing panties. We’d learn that soon enough.
Her sullen boyfriend/husband placed her on one of the padded tables, lifted her skirt and went to work with his tongue. This attracted pretty much every man in the place (including the one dressed as a woman). Lots of pathetic guys pulling on pathetic dicks. Boyfriend sounded bored when he informed them she wouldn’t be touching anything not covered in a condom. Then he went back to licking.
Only a couple of minutes later she gave a moan of sorts and a small shudder. He shifted to fingers and a rapid back and forth motion. And she squirted. Enough to puddle on the floor. Enough to rain on a spectator or two.
My first squirter was a girlfriend. I’d met her in graduate school and had been impressed by her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. These were excellent companions for her large rack and pretty face. She soaked the bed. I don’t mean dampen. I mean wet as in soaked. She’d come when we were fucking and let loose a torrent of fluid that made the bed a mess. It was a problem. After having to sleep in the wet spot a couple of times, I began planning positioning more strategically. The sex was better knowing the sleep would be too.
A different squirter I used to fuck had more of an aerosol approach. Her orgasms were marked by the usual tension and release – only this time there would be these little puffs of spray. No puddles or wet spots to worry about. Just a gentle mist, some thanks and a command to fuck her into oblivion. Who could tell if she was squirting through the pounding that would follow?
My favorite squirter was a young Asian girlfriend who was entirely embarrassed by her squirts. She warmed up slowly – and cooled down fast. But in between, she was primed and explosive. Once she got turned on, she would turn it on and fuck like a seasoned whore. When I ate her, she’d blast my face with streams of come over and over. Then sated and exhausted, she’d apologize for blasting my face. Don’t apologize. I love it.
I did love it. But if I never meet another squirter again, I’ll be okay. Not just because of the wet spot. Because I’ll take a sexy attitude over everything. Give me a girl who loves to fuck. Squirting is fun. Fireworks are the bomb.
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