Sore Vaginal Muscles

I overused my vaginal muscles last week. They are sore now.

The prior week, SwingBot and I took a trip during which sex was just not practical or convenient. I did not masturbate myself and we did not have sex, but I did masturbate him once during the middle of the week. He had developed such a case of Blue Balls that he had tried to relieve them himself and stopped because it was painful. Not one to shy from inflicting a little sexualized pain, I got a glove, some lubricant, and stroked his shaft until he achieved a hard orgasm. That was quite fun and gave me some mental satisfaction, but physical enjoyment would have to wait a few more days.

We got home that Friday night, but I was busy with the general tasks of settling back home. On Saturday, we invited BG over for hanging out and sex. SwingBot and BG focused some attention on me, plus gave me a wonderful private show of MM action. A threesome was certainly a welcome way to end a week’s celibacy.

On Sunday, I got out a few toys and pleasured myself alone to climax. I did the same thing on Monday night. On Tuesday, I felt ambitious and went for larger than usual, using the Manrammer in my cunt. Also on Tuesday, I got other toys and used those on SwingBot. Once again, we managed balls deep with the Horse Cock in him. His ass is amazing… and apparently we both were going for “big” on Tuesday.

By Wednesday, my vaginal muscles felt sore from the daily workouts… and particularly from gripping the Manrammer. SwingBot responded, “No sex for you, then.” I gave him a sour look and explained, “I need an internal massage.” When BG arrived that evening, SwingBot was not interested in sex, but I was. SwingBot turned a video camera to our bed and left BG and me to our own devices.

BG made me cum hard and often. With tongue to my ass and clit and fingers in my cunt, I was truly indulged. After I climaxed many times from cunnilingus, he got a condom and made me climax more while fucking me. When he left, though, my body surprised me by still being horny. Fortunately, SwingBot said, “I hope you’re up for more. I’ve basically been edging for the last two hours.” He had watched us in his office through the camera. I was thrilled to conclude the night with even more fucking.

On Thursday, the soreness in my pelvic region was noticeable. The muscles told me that they had done more than enough in the past few days and deserved a break. That evening, though, I dismissed their concerns and strived for another orgasm through masturbation. It took a while, but I managed it. SwingBot then found me and helped me achieve more. However, that was decidedly overdoing it. My muscles pleaded no more, and I finally listened. I left myself alone on Friday and Saturday.

On Saturday evening, though, SwingBot pleasantly surprised me. I thought that we were both tired when we went to bed that night. I tried reading in bed for a while and SwingBot expressed interest in other pursuits. He burrowed under the covers and licked at my bikini area and cunt. I squealed and laughed; it tickled. Still holding my e-reader in one hand, I used the other to try to block his mouth. He continued until I stopped laughing and started moaning. “I can tell when you’re turned on,” he noted smugly. The area that is so ticklish when I am not aroused becomes a highly sensitive pleasure zone when I am, and he had managed to cause the change.

I appreciated his mouth on me for a while, until he concluded that he wanted more and I got onto my knees for Doggie Style. We fucked until he came — his one orgasm for my who-knows-how-many. I collapsed back on my side of the bed, feeling happy. My muscles chastised me a little, but the couple days of rest had placated them considerably.

Of course, then I composed this on Sunday evening, and, feeling aroused by the memories it triggered, masturbated again. My muscles are grumbling at me, “Was that necessary?” to which I answer, “Yes, yes, it was.”