Saturday, November 28, 2020

My Descent Into Degenerate Hedonism Is Cumplete

 

With the posting of my 5th #AiLovesToOrgasm I'm realizing there is a story here. For nearly the last year I've been pinballing from problems, crisis, emotional highs and the very depths of my emotional lows. For the first time in over a decade I was close enough to suicide I had to drop everything and take a breath before I lost everything. I bawled naked in a shower while my Spouse held me for hours and I just completely flipped my brain off.

I would say this has been a long time coming. I'm not emotionally stable on the best of days and the last year has been a roller coaster I was not prepared for. Thinking on it in a realistic timeline, I lost my job, wrote a book, got a new job in a completely different sector, published the book, had to deal with the pandumbic, got censored, took on too much to market my book back from the brink, got sucked into multiple addictive social media outlets, had my meds adjusted twice - the second time much harder and the straw on the camel's back to my emotions - had an emergency session with my therapist and got my meds adjusted AGAIN, all while trying to live up to a fandom that has been beautiful and giving and I don't want to disappoint anyone. This while getting 90% of the way to finishing Book 2, working enough overtime to get a new car and start looking to buy a new house...

I'm honestly surprised I'm still alive.

So, promises of finishing broken, Book 2 is on hold. I'll get to it when I get to it. In the mean time, surprisingly, my stupid orgasms-for-reviews idea kinda took off and I'm looking at 6 new reviews in one week! Each time I responded, I kept getting more daring and I've edged away from any vanilla O as I try to test the limits of my body and see what new and weird thing I can do for your amusement. When Felicia Skye ( @EroticMorsel ) asked for a short bit of something for her blog, I gave her a collection of posts from social medias and now there's a weird short erotic story on her blog ( https://eroticskye.blogspot.com/2020/11/grab-bag-friday-ai-love-incentive.html ).

I like it. It is disjointed and lacks flow, but the format feels raw and real. So I want to take everything from my social media, blog and some interviews I've done and just cram it all into a book. It will be the strangest erotica novella I've ever seen, but it will be all of me. However, while I'll work on some preliminary stuff and get a cover commissioned, I'll not want to publish it until Book 2 is done. That way it can be about the creation of Book 2 and kinda tie everything together in a neat bundle.

What do you think? It isn't like the stuff on there isn't available for people to read already. All I'd be doing is organizing it and then charging people for the privilege of reading about me. It will be weirdly autobiographical but also feels so self-indulgent. Comment on what you think I should do.

Although plenty of reviewers got called out on social media, here it is again: Leonard Bowman, Scott A Vieira Jr, Peter Anderson, R Lee and all you other silent reviewers, THANK YOU!! You are all the reasons I am still alive today (part of the reasons) because when I was hating myself and unable to cope, I actually went to my Amazon page and read some of your reviews. In a tiny bitty way, you helped me realize I matter!

Now that the emotional stuff is out of the way, wipe your tears so you can feast your eyes on my latest commission from Morgan Wright ( https://www.morganwrightbooks.com/ ):

ANIMATED COVER!!

It is sooooo cool looking, and she actually managed to make Diane's boobs bigger so mega-good job there. If you author, make sure to get her services because they are top notch!

Lastly, for those of you who have stuck around and bother to read my blog, I have a special treat. I've put up a lot of preview chapters from Book 2 on here before (seriously, there's probably 10% of the book previewed in previous blog posts) but I have always been very careful to avoid one fetish that is KEY to the story and is central to ALL the wives. It will be short, but this is the actual first part of the first chapter followed by the first part of chapter 2 here and although it doesn't have a lot, I think the implications will give you all a good idea where Book 2 will be heading.

And yes, I do go all the way with this fetish.

((NOTE: this is an unedited preview of Book 2 and as such is subject to change in publication))

“This does not appear to be normal.”

“Ya think, Velma? Wanna add a jinkies for good measure?”

Diane, in shock more than anything, wearing only a matching pair of red panties and bra, was holding onto her stomach as if she didn’t know what to do.

Holding her pregnant stomach.

Very pregnant.

Like, nine-months-with-triplets pregnant.

Both Honoka Jefferson and her first wife, Diane, were in Honoka’s bed - wide awake now - on an early Friday morning, August 29th. The covers had been thrown to the floor in a panic. Honoka was in an oversized brown shirt with a faded spaceship on the front and the caption Browncoats Do It In The Verse. A month ago the shirt was more oversized than now but the twenty-six year old mixed African and Japanese American woman was having something of a late growth spurt. As was common since the Change, the black skinned hermaphrodite sported a painful, throbbing, oozing with precum, sixteen inch long and thirteen inch circumference, veiny, uncircumcised, tilting upward and slightly curved penis shaft growing out where the clitoris would be on a normal woman, above a damp, engorged-with-lust yet otherwise normal vagina. Typically, the Beast (Honoka’s pet name for her black man-sausage) would be invading her thoughts with mounting need (or a need to do some mounting) but right now Honoka had other problems. Pregnant problems.

“Did you, I don’t know, accidentally eat something?” Honoka asked, flustered to the point of asking stupid questions.

“Does this look like a food baby?!” Diane shifted around, trying to move into a more comfortable sitting position, failed, and growled in frustration. Shooting her bright green eyes up at her wife, Honoka got a full-powered hormonal glare. “A little help?”
Honoka started, blinked, then leaned over to help the irritable redhead succubus into a more comfortable position. Or tried. Honoka was five foot four inches, four inches taller than a month ago, but she still looked like a recovering anorexic; without some Status help, moving a five foot eleven pregnant woman was exhausting. The emerald green wings and tail only made it more difficult. The fact the mattress was a little broken from a surprise event last Monday morning made it even more difficult.

“I’m no expert,” Honoka said, flopping back onto her side of the bed, giving Diane’s stomach a more critical examination, “but isn’t there supposed to be something a bit more...gradual in the process?”

On Sunday of this week, an orgy in the basement gym of their large Indian styled home occurred. Hundreds of feet beneath what used to be Harvard and twenty-four days after the five year anniversary of the aptly named Change - bringing to earth fantastical Races and Classes and blue-colored Status menus - a group of eight married women performed their wifely duties following a fun movie night. The main event was Honoka copulating with Diane for the first unprotected time with the express intention to have a child. It was possibly the happiest moment of both their lives, made better with mind blowing orgasms, magical growth of all sorts and enough milk and cum to fill a large water tower.

Sunday. Five days ago.

“It’s not like I’ve been secretly pregnant for the last nine months,” Diane replied, her frustration starting to subside and replaced with worry. “We’ve seen each other every single day since we met. We went to bed four hours ago: both you know and I know I was as flat as a washboard last night.” Holding out her hands, she looked down at herself as if this was some kind of prank. “Unless you have a better theory, I’m calling Status shenanigans.”

Both of them grew silent, giving the Beast side-eyed glares as if it was all his fault. It was, but blaming the penis seemed adolescent.

“Next step is obvious.” Honoka gave the succubus a quick kiss, rolled off the bed, picking up her phone and walking towards the door. “Either a healthy baby or magical mega cancer is in there: both mean you are going to a hospital.”

“Mega cancer?!” Diane squeaked, the idea this might be something other than a baby never occurring to her.

Honoka winced, giving an apologetic glance back toward the bed. “Sorry, guess the joke wasn’t funny.” Checking her phone, the black futa peeked out the door to see if there were any underaged children waiting outside. “It’s five thirty right now. Be ready to leave at six. I’m going to wake up everyone, get some cereal, get a quick handjob, then we are heading to a hospital even if we need Banda to carry you there. Loves.”
Diane blew a kiss and Honoka walked out, both furiously texting. However, even if Honoka was trying to sound unworried, this new development had her terrified inside.

————————

“You’re pregnant.”

Honoka tried really hard not to roll her eyes. “We gathered that. Could you tell us how far along she is?”

This time the doctor looked like he was trying really hard not to roll his eyes. Glancing at Diane sitting on the table, strapped in a pair of stirrups and displaying her sopping pussy in a clinic manner, her tummy too large for the one size fits most hospital gown, then looking back at Honoka. “I can’t be sure without running some more tests, but I’m fairly confident she’s at least thirty-eight weeks and is more likely into week forty. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was dilated right now.”

Being honest with herself, Honoka didn’t understand what Doctor Doyle was telling them. She knew the basics of baby making but there were a few terms in there that flew over her head. Honoka had planned on there being more time to research everything. She could, however, understand the sarcasm weighing the doctor’s words.

Narrowing her eyes, she had to suppress her instincts to bite back and held her breath, letting it go after a moment. “Thank you, doctor. Before we have the ultrasound, could you give us a few minutes to discuss things?”

“Of course.” Doctor Doyle gave them some odd looks while leaving the small room, but he’d been giving them odd looks for the last hour so it was par for the course at this point. Which left Diane on the bed/table, Honoka pursing her lips and holding Diane’s hand.

It was almost noon and the entire morning had been a whirlwind of activity. Banda needed milking so Pad took up the task while Dolly and Quinn had to finish a delving assignment with an assist from Aruna for a large batch of Transmutation Crystals Becoming Monsters has ticketed for the end of the day. Eve decided she wanted to pick up Miaka from the airport so Eve got allocated to human (allowing her feet to reach the pedals) and Padmava got to experience what it was like to be a goblinaga. Which left Honoka to manage the hospital visit. Not difficult, because while Diane wasn’t moving much under her own power today, a few points in Strength got Diane princess carried to the large Harvardtown Hospital in the Shiny District.

“’K, before he gets back, now that we know I don’t have some kind of disease we might want to get out of here,” Diane announced, sitting up and looking ready to leave.

“We don’t know you aren’t sick, not completely. What about the ultrasound?” Honoka asked, her ears twitching as she imagined eavesdroppers all around.

“Can we risk it? Dr. Suspicious has already put me through the ringer with questions I couldn’t answer honestly, though Racism was working in our favor for once because succubi have unexpected kids all the time.” Diane was on her feet now, wobbling a little as she held onto Honoka for support. “We devil whores are notorious for evading questions like who’s the father? and why didn’t you see a doctor sooner?”

“I appreciate you wanting to keep my secrets, but is it worth it?” Honoka asked, having not moved and speaking so softly Diane could hardly hear her. “What if my Race did something to you, or to our child? What if…”

“Three moves ahead,” Diane assured Honoka, tapping away at her phone. “Your mother got hold of your Uncle Akisame. He’ll be arriving from Gainesville tonight and he’s already sent in the request forms for Service Privileges at this hospital. Uzume also said because everyone is coming up to Boston anyway, he’s bringing his entire family.”

Honoka breathed in to grumble further, but she let it out in a yelp as the door suddenly flew open and Eve burst in like a Michael Richards impression.

“Maternity Taxi, at your service,” Eve said with a bad New York accent, her face turned in a cheesy grin. “You preg ‘em, we leg ‘em.”

Eve got a double dead pan, which she graciously accepted as her rightful due. Eve was still human, placing her at six feet three inches and looking like an ebony athlete decided to dress like a professional rave bunny. Although usually wearing fishnet like strippers wore glitter, today she wore a tight white body stocking that was more transparent than a time traveling Scotsman’s aluminum. To keep within the bounds of modesty (or within the legal limit of indecent exposure), her waist was covered in a black latex micro skirt and her prominent Ds had thick Xs of electrical tape over the nipples. A bright red thong looped over the top of the mini and two matching flats finished the ensemble. Her hair, usually a kinky mess whenever she humaned, was in a bunch of tight dredds and tipped in gold colored rings on the end, her hair clinking in the middle of her back whenever she moved. Her thick lips under her broad and flat nose was shaded the same red as the thong and her eyes were brushed in the same gold as the ringlets in her hair.
It was a smoking outfit and if Honoka wasn’t so worried about Diane, the futa-girl might have shoved a chair under the door and went for a threesome. That didn’t stop her dick from bonering a bit inside her jock strap under her crimson skirt. However, Honoka had other concerns. After stuffing all her anxieties into a tiny ball, Honoka sighed and stood.

“Why are you here?” Honoka asked, moving to give Eve a resigned hug and a lingering kiss, likely getting lipstick all over her face. “Not that I don’t love the outfit, but we still have an ultrasound and…”

“Your uncle is bringing special equipment, no worries,” Eve replied, striding over to Diane and looking her up and down. “Hmm, gonna need at least ten Strength. Pass the six from Pad and another six from Diane to me, should be plenty to get this girl back home.”

Honoka stifled a growl, realizing something was going on but not knowing what. Glaring at the two women, Diane had the decency to duck her head in guilt but Eve just spun her hand to get on with it. Pursing her lips, Honoka pulled up her Status and allocated the Strength and some Endurance. “Until we know more, Diane’s off the allocation table, but Banda is done milking and can spare the points.”

Maybe Honoka shouldn’t allocate angry, because Eve got her muscles grown into her within a fraction of a second. The force alone of gaining muscle mass at such a velocity flung the tall black woman first into the wall and then onto the floor. Normally a masochist, without her goblin pain/pleasure receptors, Eve stayed on the ground for a full minute groaning (not in a sexy way).

“That wasn’t nice,” Diane chided, causing Honoka to flush and fiddle with her Status to move the goblin Racial Feature Painz Gone! back to Eve, instantly turning the groans into moans.

“I wonder if there’s a way to do that again, but with some chains,” Eve said, licking her lips as she stood back up. The body stocking had fit her tightly before, but going from a fitness model to Jen Walters burst seams all over and now looked more like destroyed pantyhose. Her hips didn’t widen so much, her glutes had exploded to shove the micro up onto her waist and completely expose the red thong. Her breasts didn’t grow any bigger but they got thrust forward as pectorals major and minor rippled underneath. Popping her left bicep in a sharp curl, the black and veiny softball swelled into a hard melon, tearing completely through the stocking, Eve grinning at her strength.

Honoka was having trouble keeping her own clothing from tearing over a swelling of another kind, gulping and wiping some sweat off her forehead.

“Well, time to get you home,” Eve said suddenly, scooping Diane into an easy carry and briskly walking out the door. She only stopped for a moment to grab Honoka’s pink bag stuffed with Diane’s clothing and loop it over one shoulder.

“Wait!” Honoka cried, worried about Diane but more worried about some kind of plot between the wives against her. “What is going on here?”

“Don’t worry about anything,” Diane said over Eve’s toned and rounded shoulder as the ebony woman strode down the hospital hallway, dodging around doctors and nurses and people in gurneys and wheelchairs. The succubus gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. “You just have fun.”

“Wha—?”

It happened too quickly for Honoka to react. Clawed talons clasped around her shoulders and yanked her backwards. Before the surprised futa could bring up her Status and allocate, she spun around in a utility closet no larger than a bathroom stall and witnessed Miaka locking the door behind her.

“Miaka? I...” Honoka trailed off, a few other things becoming clear in the dim light of the single bare bulb.

Miaka’s breathing was deep and loud, as if the former MMA fighter had gone a few rounds. Her overly large hazel eyes practically glowed with their intensity, her gaze not up on Honoka’s face but down lower. Her bright red and blue plumage was matted with sweat, giving the woman a stark appearance. She wore a long white tank with a stylized sketch of Toni Jaa on the front that hung down to her hips, which is when Honoka realized the shirt was the only stitch of clothing on the owl woman.

“Heya, Hedwig,” Honoka said slowly, raising her hands up in a placating and also defensive manner, gulping as she tried to regain control of the situation. “Happy to see you’re excited to get on with harmonizing, but why don’t we cool off a bit and get home. I mean, not a lot of room in here for anything exotic.”

“Don’t care, need to f…screw.” Miaka stalked forward a step, putting her in reach of her long feathered arms.

“I can see that,” Honoka mumbled, her own resistances wearing down, her eyes locked on the neon blue skin of Miaka’s clit and labia underneath the soft red down of her mons. Those bits of blue looked swollen, moist and oozed with femine need. The futa girl backed up as much as she could, her back jostling the shelves of TP and other bathroom supplies behind her. “Still not the best place for a first time.”
Miaka didn’t answer, instead taking another step and pushing her body up against Honoka’s, the hard muscles of the kikiyaon’s erotic body pressing Honoka against the shelving and eliciting a squeek out of the smaller chocolate Ymirian. The owl brought her arms up sharply, grabbing the shelves on either side of Honoka’s head while moving her taloned feet under the shelves, essentially locking Honoka into place. All Honoka could see was red feathers and could feel the rapid heartbeat of the Japanese owl beating hot blood throughout. With Honoka’s recent growth they were almost the same height, Miaka leaning in for the last inch to plant her beak inside Honoka’s mouth and lick the other woman’s teeth with her long, thin blue tongue.

“Mmmm!” Honoka tried to say, tasting the rancid flavor of Diane’s C&A potions as Honoka tried to pull her head away and Miaka leaned farther in. But then heat rose inside Honoka and her own tongue got involved and her body slowly untensed.

Breaking off, Miaka reached down with her hands to undo Honoka’s skirt, keeping her body pressed close and even grinding a little. Miaka was working blind and after a few frustrated seconds, she reached a talon around the band and sliced it down a few inches, using her other hand to roughly shove the fabric down Honoka’s bare legs. Exposed to the air now, Honoka’s XXXL custom jockstrap was straining to hold her meat in place and her inner thighs were starting to soak from her own womanly juices. Another claw more gently moved the support out of the way to spring the chocolate cock into the air, premen already dribbling down the shaft.

“You are now going to stick that in me and pound me until we both can’t see straight,” Miaka stated with husky force, crawling up the shelves with her arms and legs to suspend her pussy just above the tip. Those shelves must have been heavy duty to support her weight, but Honoka didn’t care at the moment as the owl woman rubbed her blue lower lips across Honoka’s turgid meatus, pushing the tip in far enough to bring dark foreskin downward. “If you don’t want anyone finding us, you better do it quickly and quietly.”

-------------------

And there you go, now y'all can get on reddit and make wild theories about my next book and start flame wars over what this all MEANS!

...please do that then send me links, I'll totally join in!

Not sure when my next "regular" blog post will be, but stay tuned for the next #AiLovesToOrgasm here.

Keep harmonizing!

#ailovestogrow #beinganauthorishard #mentalproblems #preggopreview


Friday, November 27, 2020

#AiLovesToOrgasm Session 5: Nipplegasm

 

((Note: this is part of a series of personal sexual encounters where I record as soon after the event as possible based on receiving a review to one of my books on Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Ai-Love/e/B084ZYD67G . The game is the more detailed the review, the more detailed or exotic the sexual session described, looking specifically for details such as a favorite scene or favorite character from the book in the review. Follow on social media under the hashtag #ailovestoorgasm ))

To start off, getting a nipplegasm is not a fast process. At least, I’ve spent hours before on it but never had the patience to finish. In other words, I just get so horny and worked up I give up and I’m shoving my fingers into my throbbing and drenched snatch to jill myself into oblivion. Those orgasms have always been intense so I’ve wondered if there was overlap and an actual nipplegasm would flatten me or something.


After getting home from The Feast, I flew out of my nice clothes and into some comfy PJs: gray sweatpants and a red sweater with a pair of shōjō anime eyes over the chest. No bra but I’m not doing this naked, the room is too cold right now. Dozed in and out a bit from the threatening food coma, but was determined to do this, so I started on the couch and pulled up some ASMR porn I have on a playlist. Ever since I got the audioporn chapters done from the book, I have become obsessed with listening to the sounds of sex, so I have an audio collection of hot and steamy sex, moans, groans, screams and gasping breaths taken from my personal collection of over 3000 porn videos. I use it as background noise A LOT when I’m masturbating and whenever I say I’m listening to ASMR, it cums from these files. If you ever have a hot file of yourself (preferably a girl/woman or couple) with a recording of yourself actually orgasming (#noprofanity please), I’m collecting them. Have a separate small iPod I keep them all on.


Once the audioporn started panting in my ears, got to work by closing my eyes and playing with my nipples with my hands under the sweater. I didn’t want to go hog wild, just sensually brushing them over the sloppy groans of what I think is the actress Kali Roses getting pounded in one of her videos. When they aren’t erect, my nipples are just little clumps of loose skin on top of a thin layer of mammary tissue pancaking (more like crepes!) on top of not insignificant pectoralis major and minor that I can’t help but flex in a rhythm of bouncing muscles dancing under my hands.


Unlike my pussy, which has a hair trigger, my nips take a while to get going. I’m kinda hitting a trance so I lose track of time, but eventually I’m biting my lip as those puppies engorge and fill up between my fingertips. I’m a grower not a shower. And while my lower regions are sensitive enough to get off by just rubbing my legs together, these chest erections aren’t as tender so I start to crank and squeeze more forcefully as time passes.


“Aah!”


I open my eyes when I cry out in a gasp, instantly embarrassed. Spouse looks from the book he’s reading and smiles suggestively, wiggling those eyebrows. I blush, even through it isn’t like I haven’t done worse in front of him and lean in for a quick kiss before falling back and work those nubs like a baker kneading the morning dough.


Getting my nipples erect is a slow process. They can take as long as ten minutes to go from soft to hard, but once fully engaged they are THICK. It is almost as if my body understands how badly I’ve wanted large breasts and tried to make up for it with turgid fatties. They are thicker than some of my fingers, though my hands are admittedly very small and dainty. What I’m starting to really crank is my puffy and bumpy areola, which fattens up as well into a dome of thick skin and it is all adding up.


There’s actually some science behind smaller breasts being more tender than larger ones because the glandular tissue isn’t wrapped up in so much fatty tissue. Big gals might not know, but us shortstacks get a lot of aches and pains when groped too hard. If you are a guy, as best as I can piece it together from the Spouse, the feeling is similar to having a hard round of testicular groping. At least that’s what I threaten him with whenever his groping gets too enthusiastic. So when I say I’m kneading myself, the focus is on the nipples and areola as I pull and twist. My chest muscles are swole and sore from a hard workout earlier today and my mammaries are already radiating waves of light pain, so my ministrations are energetic yet careful.


I’m constantly moaning and whimpering now, sliding my body around on the couch and bumping into my hubby while my sweater is pushed up to my collarbone and I’m now wondering who’s stupid idea it was to wear sweats! My crotch is damp but not wet and I have to almost physically restrain myself from reaching inside myself to finish the job. I’m in the danger zone and when I open my eyes I see that 80 minutes have passed. As I said, a long process to build up this far.


“Time for phase 2,” I say, gasping a bit as I most definitely do NOT rub my thighs together, slowly creeping up and shuffling to the bedroom while I slip out of my sweaty sweats, only wearing my boyshorts style pink panties now.


Spouse doesn’t say anything, but he’s a quiet one like me and he follows with a smile. I’d jump him right now but he is adamant about having sex only once every 2-3 days. I don’t know how he does it, I’d suck him dry 6 times a day if he’d let me, yet he respects my needs and is always willing to help with my perversions.


“I love him so much,” I think as he gets me strapped spread eagle on the bed for the second time in a week. It doesn’t take long, we’re old hat at getting me tied and pied.


I’ve still got the ASMR in my ears with the current girl a screamer begging in Japanese. However, I can hear when the hitachi flips on in the hand of my future tormentor and my head whips around, getting my hair in my eyes that I attempt to blow out. His other hand holds a tube of Vaseline.


“Just a little Vas, don’t want you chaffing,” the spouse says. I think. Hard to hear him with the earphones, got a girl screaming for a harder pounding in my ears. Putting it to practice, a few cold glops plop on my nips before he straddles over top of me and leans over like a mad surgeon about to perform sexual surgery.

 

Then he pulls over the second massager, my little green one.

 

"Oh snap!" I say as I struggle against my restraints, my eyes wide as Spouse does exactly what I told him ("no matter how much I beg, no matter how much I strain, I AM GETTING A NIPPLEGASM TODAY! Never give up, never surrender!"). I just thought in my head he'd only use the hitachi, which would have given me some slight reprieve, I think. The hitachi has the big round head but the green one has a flat disk with knobs I just KNOW are going to dig into breast flesh and drive me bonkers.


Despite my hesitation, I gulp and smile valiantly, rubbing my crotch up against his rough denim. He shifts up my abdomen and slaps my thigh, waving a no-no finger before turning both massager on and kissing me in the mouth to distract me, going in for the kill.

 

"OOOOH!!" I scream loud enough our neighbors now know exactly what the [Loves] are up to again (here's to hoping they've stopped trying to call the cops on us). Putting those vibes on my nipples like he did was like that time I stupidly got myself hit with one of those stun sticks on full power. I immediately thrashed from the shock and pleasure zapping through my body, but Spouse is a big guy and he was expecting it, using his thighs to keep me in place and have me ride out the initial plunge. The roughness of his jeans only turns me on more as he completely controls me, forcing another scream/moan out of me as most of the pain fades into the background.


Now I had to go to work.


A woman's orgasm is a delicate thing and is mostly mental. In other words, if I'm not in the mood (yeah, like THAT happens often, but it does happen) no amount of vibing or pounding is going to get me there. However, if I WILL myself to THINK about getting over the top of that wave, cumming will happen.


Because my breasts are the focus, I use my vivid imagination to believe these massagers are some kind of scifi device used to increase my minuscule breasts into boobs, into tits, into JUGGS!! I can feel them swelling, bloating, growing into a pressure on my chest, on my body. The Spouse has to tumble back as he's caught inside my cleavage, trapped while boulders blossom into a flood of flesh, filling the room and straining against the walls, wood and plaster creaking loudly as...

"OH YES, YEEEESSS!!"


I was not expecting it to cum so quickly! I'm used to something like a rack, pulling and straining until that tipping moment when everything crests over and you get flooded with all those lovely chemicals that feel sooooo good.


This was like a bomb going off. One moment I was riding the pleasure and the pain and starting to really radiate a lot of soreness from my nips as they were brutally beaten, the next it was my whole body seizing up as if I was being pushed into an orgasm instead of being pulled into it.


"Aaah! Enough! Enough! Stop! PLEeeAAAAAH!!"


I arch my back and lift the Spouse into the air as the second bomb goes off and I feel myself lose all control, the second O a squirter deluging into my pink panties and sloshing onto the bed before the Spouse even has time to back off. He doesn't, the cruel taskmaster that he is, keeping those tools of torment on my nips as best he can as I try to buck him off. This is all happening so fast and I'm seeing spots as the Spouse does what I've trained him to do while he waits for the safeword.


"Lolipop!! LOLIPOP!!" I scream as I finally remember there is a safeword and what it is. My whole body is a tingling and twitching mess as he finally relents and rolls off me, aftershocks causing me to suck air like some landed fish.


I'm done, this whole idea is done. I like an intense orgasm as much as the next lady, but I can't even enjoy the afterglow right now because I have some serious pain I need to deal with. When the straps come off and I get a look at myself, I notice one of my nipples - the one the green massager was on - is bleeding and even thinking about wearing any form of cloth of them makes me wince in pain.


Spouse grabs me a bandaid and some Tylenol and my water jug because my throat is raw. I gulp water and just lay in my sweat and squirt mess, knowing now I needed to wash the sheets if I wanted to sleep in a few hours. Was not expecting the squirt at all, though this was going to be a simple O like I'm used to vibing out.


I'm writing this while lazing in the bath, sheets in the wash, but my head is drooping and I'm afraid I'm going to drop it in the water. Hope you enjoyed this new format and remember, I like to cum but you only get to read about the ones I see reviews for.


Keep harmonizing!

#ailovestoorgasm #nipplegasmsaredangerous #sotender #canigetanother

 

 

 

Friday, November 20, 2020

I Hate Censorship

 

This post is to admit that my life has been something of a failure since mid June. I haven't been writing as much as I was, I spend all my time on social media or avoiding social media or just rereading what I've written over and over until words have lost all meaning. Mid June is when my life kinda turned into a spiraling mess and I am still trying to find a way out.

Mid June is when I got Dungeoned by Amazon. For no other reason than someone working for a corporation saw my book and didn't like it for ANY ARBITRARY REASON, I lost any ability to gain traction or a following. This was the beginning of the end for me and everything since then has been one long march to try and keep my ragged sanity from flying apart at the seams.

I know I should have expected it, but until it happens to you, that feeling of helplessness when someone takes away your freedom and throws it into the garbage, I hate it. Every day since then, all it has done is EAT at me and drive me into more and more desperate avenues to try and make up for being violated this way.

I talk a lot about things on here and social media, but there are some things I won't talk about. I have issues and having something taken away from you without consent is something that sticks with you.

However, my problems are not your problems, or at least they shouldn't be. I might have been able to increase my sales through creating the CENSORED version, marketing that, through social media and a dozen other little marketing schemes I've put forth, but the amount of money and especially TIME has been such a drain that I don't have anything left to give for my book. While my sales have actually increased dramatically, my total net from gross is only a very small margin and if I was charging myself by the hour, I'd be thousands of dollars in the hole from the sheer womanhours.

I WILL NOT deliver a subpar book! I can't! And the expectations I've given myself are just mounting and mounting and I'm nearly at my breaking point here. Considering I slit my wrists and needed 3 units of blood when I was a teen, my breaking point could prove deadly.

I met with my therapist last month. I unloaded everything about the book, Ai Love, getting censored, writing, expectations, my anxiety and depression. I'm already on some heavy medications but my therapist suggested a radical change in some of my doses and drugs. I started those regimines last week.

I don't know how many of you take drugs that effect your emotions or brain chemistry, but even small adjustments can put you through heck. I've been adjust dozens of times in 26 years and each time it nearly kills me. This time was one of the worst and I'm still not even close to recovered. I have a constant headache, my mouth is always dry even though I'm drinking water by the gallon each day, I can't focus and I will go from laughing to crying to shouting at the drop of a hat. On top of that, I'm expecting my period any moment now and that can only mean more awful to come.

I haven't written anything this week. I don't know when I'll write anything in Book 2 next. I'm sorry, but it is all I can do to go to work each day and pretend to the world that my world isn't cracking apart. The book won't be done this month, I don't know when it will be done. I need to get a grip on my life first.

On a plus side, if you want to help improve my mental health, I still like to orgasm. #AiLovesToOrgasm is a trending tag and I'll post out any review I get on Amazon with something mindblowing (for me, at least). I've even gotten permission to go past my daily 2 orgasm limit from the spouse if I get more reviews in one day! So keep me cumming back for more!

If you see me about on Social Media (I'm trying to cut down), say hi. I might not look it, but I love fan response and would spend all day every day just talking about sex and monster girls and cumflation if I could get away with it. Sometimes I think my manager is onto me for spending too much time on the media at work, but I get my reports in on time and they all look great so I think he looks the other way.

As for Book 2, I might give the first 1/3 to Editor-kun to start working on so I can at least get some of the preview chapters and audioporn worked on, getting the promos out there for when the release is ready.

Sorry for such a let down, I hope you don't hate me too much for being such a terrible slacker.

Keep harmonizing!

#ailovestogrow #mytherapistknowseverythingnow #failureauthor #keepmecumming

Saturday, November 7, 2020

Short And Sweet

 

Just going to make this quick and to the point. I got 9000 words. Chapters are meaningless at this point, but I'm past 30, I think.

Really, I've been messing around with what parts go where and the chapter numbers are all messed up.

I wanted to do so much more, but had a family crisis and then work had a thing that took all my routine and got really intense. Same hours working - maybe a little more - but it left me so exhausted each day I just stared at the screen. 9000 is an accomplishment in my book.

Still plan on finishing this month, just means I have to pick up the slack. I DID stay off of Twatter...mostly. My app on the phone lets me know when I get a DM. I feel obliged to answer those, but I resisted the siren call of twatting all week, only ejaculating my mind jizz this morning and throughout most of the day. Still got a third of my writing done today but could have done better if I stayed away from my twat. So if you DM me, I'll probably still reply, I just won't do anything in the Greater Twatverse.

Shoutout to Ruggedascent on GoodReads for the stars. Love me some reviews. In fact, speaking of reviews, depending on the type and length of a review on Amazon, I might be tempted to live tweet an orgasm out to you all. What do you think? I believe I'm pretty descriptive (you who have read my book, you be the judge) and so I would be fine with orgasming over a review.

((to be clear for Amazon bots reading this, I am not paying for reviews with orgasms, nor am I telling people HOW they are to review my product. I am saying that any review I get - good or bad - MAY lead to some sort of happy orgasm that COULD BE live Tweeted in a related but not directly influential way))

I'm also finding some great friends while playing with my Twat feed. @SandsShay, @BrandonBVarnell, @byMorganWright, @SuperAbsurdist, @insert25c, @AlexaSommers, @Vivienner0se, @AverageJAuthor, @LustfulTigress, @Kousakacomplex1, @WriterLindsey, @DTFullerBooks, @cmac10302, @EroticMorsel, @TJDallas7, @Scottzapper and @laulauev.

(If I missed you, please don't hate me, I'm just running out of time and there are so many wonderful people I want to thank!)

Special love to @laulauev for publishing my first interview at https://cadmusuk.com/featured-writer-ai-love/ . There's even some bit of fun back and forth between this austere lady and myself and I'm happy to see even my filthy mind didn't turn her away. I want everyone to make sure they get a chance to drive traffic her way!

Need to put a lid on it today. Will update all my RSS feeds, send out my final twat, then call it a night. Tomorrow I have early Church because new C-Plague regulations are in place, but whatev's. Moses wanting to free his people shouldn't stop worshiping the Lord.

Loves and kisses to you all, you are all my lifeline!

Keep harmonizing!

#ailovestogrow #WIP #needtocumsobad #Shayisinsane

PS: Almost forgot! Sometime this week, @SandsShay will be doing another round of #ShayNo reading chapters from my book. I've already given her The Orders, and it should all be lots of fun. Make sure to keep track because I am serious that I will not be on this week, will read all about it next week. I might also be tempted to do something similar in the future, but I'm not sure how I would go about it nor would I be doing it probably unless I had enough of a following on Twat to justify the time.

Quick Update

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