V.L.O.G. Valentino’s Life Orgasmic Graciousness

Mornings are especially good for sex. A husband or lover may not be entirely wake. If the biggest sexual organ is sleepy (read: brain), stimulation and reaction of the ‘mini-me’ may be a little slower, hence, there’d be prolonged erection. A man may sway his hips hard on Belladonna and still after probably thirty minutes, he’s the last man standing. I recall mine being fully engorged with blood, veins and muscles tense, without even seeing my wife’s bod, hidden under the sheets, as the sun was still peeking behind the distant mountain. Sometimes, I couldn’t even feel my erection until it tries to poke above the garter of my pajamas.

In the second quarter of 2002, our family paid a visit to my uncle and aunt-in-laws, who invited us to stay at their house in Laguna for weeks. We were given a guestroom with a big bed with a soft, firm mattress. Being really fond of my son, my in-laws took him to their room.

Every day I was chafing to get out of there, not because the food or anything, but it seemed that I found the old couple’s personalities a bit bland. But they are a good and hardy folk. I respect them nevertheless. I didn’t have the heart to tell my wife, who was apparently enjoying their company. I just consoled myself that in the evenings, I would have my wife all to myself. Being good cooks, the couple practically overfed us, while the generous servings having small red spicy peppers proved to be efficient aphrodisiacs for me. They made me so horny! As soon as we closed the door of our room, I’d drag my wife to the bouncy mattress and made love to our hearts’ content.

After a beautiful evening, with the sun just coming up and the roosters’ were cock-a-doodle-dooing, I woke up and thought about having coffee. As I sat up on the edge of the bed, my wife woke too and put an arm around my waist.

“Where’re you goin’, boy?” she drawled.

“I’ll get some coffee,” I replied.

“Okay. I stood up and was about to go for the door when she called.

“Wait!” Her pupils were like morning stars as she opened them wide.

“What?’

“What a hard on!”

“Oh,” I temporized. My Apollo was trying to project itself out of my gartered but otherwise loose jimmies. Hence, the striped pastel colored fabric looked like a miniature teepee. I had had my underwear but it was thrown aside last night. She started to caress her plaything with her nimble fingers.

She sat up. Her milky full breasts were laid bare, with light brown aureolas like daisies. Till today I love to suckle them like a hungry infant. Loosing patience, she lowered the garter, and out it projected like a fountainhead. It was just in front of her beautiful face, becoming more luminous as the sun was saying hello through the gauzed curtains.

“I want it,” she commanded. She aside the floral sheets and offered her naked feminine glory like a Greek goddess. She shifted herself to the center of the bed and crossed her smooth and well contoured, athletic legs. I forgot all about my caffeine fix.

I crawled up to her, my jimmies on my knees. She opened the pearly gates and I set forth. And stopped.

She may be aroused and lubricated inside, but her netherlips were dry, the pubes tangled. I needed to moisten it with my saliva so that she won’t feel the harsh friction upon entry. I gargled water from a bottle and swallowed my ‘morning breath’ (I know, it’s gross.). Now, having fresher saliva, I got some on my fingers and dabbed my former home, massaging gently, knowing the right pressure points.

“Yeah,” she crowed, eyes narrow. I now really set forth, feeling nothing while she growled like a lioness.

I rested my face on her pillow as she licked my neck. I was on a semi-dream state. All I did was bounce the mattress and I was in business. I was enjoying the knowledge that she loved it. Yes, Virgos really fall asleep during sex.

What seemed like an eternity, felt pain. It was as if she was trying to crush my rib cage as she tightened her arms around me. I felt her nails digging into my back, like Alanis Morrissette in You Oughta Know. That put me wide awake. As she already relaxed her shakings, I got off her.

“I want to fuck behind you.” I stood on the side of the bed. She went to where I was and pushed onto me. Now, I really felt it. Glen Frey would have said, “The heat is on!” I bounced off her round white bottom and my wife was like going, “uh, uh, uh, uh, uhuh, uh…”

The pleasure was glorious for the both of us that morning.

I felt sapped though. I had to sleep the rest of the morning while my wife and the rest of her family filled the living room with animated communication.

When I woke up, my wife said she saw somebody’s shadow behind our door. It was an indiscretion to do it with people out and about. My uncle groomed his game cocks at dawn. He might have been eavesdropping on us, or worse, having the indignity to bend his whole six foot three height just to squint through the keyhole. Anyhow, I doubt if he could relish it, being fifty or something.

Eventually, I would reach that age of impotence. Inutile. But I would be able to remember what it’s like, this morning with her. And the evenings. And the adventures. That is why I enjoy writing this, even if there might be condemnation or misunderstanding for my posts. I relive those moments. The same reason why some people relive their first loves, first crushes.

Love and sex is better the second time around. Remembering makes it the best.

In 1996 I used to hang out at my best friend’s house. Rick was a moneyed guy who socialized a lot and dated several women. One evening, he was talking to someone on the phone and he gave it to me, saying he wanted me to talk to someone. That’s when I heard the sweetest female voice I’ve ever heard. Rick went about his business as I held my breath, trying to wrack my brains in keeping this beautiful stranger’s interest. Her name was Crissie. We hit it off, and soon we were burning the phone lines, so to speak.

She asked me if I wanted to have phone sex with her. I told her I never tried it. She inveigled me into it, saying I’m a dork if I don’t do it. I’m no hypocrite. I was aroused at the prospect, but I planned on meeting her and for me back then, this was no way to start an acquaintance. Still, I agreed. Our ‘lovemaking’ would sound like this.

“I’m gonna kiss you now on the neck, Crissie.”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Oh, that’s hot.” I would make wet smacking noises with my lips. I caressed my rod at her smooth, Eva Longoria voice.
“I’m on top of you. My hard on is wedged on your slit.”
“I can feel it pressing hard on me.”
“I’m French kissing your right boob. I’m doing it real slowly. Uhm…Uhm…so soft. Your nipple is in my mouth.”
“Ooh.” I let time pass.
Then I whisper, “I’m on your other boob.”
“Jeez, you’re good.”
“Just tell me when to go down, Crissie. I’m taking all my time (smacking lips, tonguing sounds). I could hear very heavy breathing on the other end.
“Go down now, Tom.”
“I’m laying my wet tongue on your tummy. It’s salty. I putting my tongue on your belly button.” She’s moaning now. Insistent.
“Go down now.”
“I’m there on your pubic hair, smells like shampoo.”
“Oh my.”
“I’m kissing your inner thighs.”
“Do it baby.”
“I’m going to put my tongue on your clit.”
“Gosh.”
“I think it’s like ice cream.”
“Oh…Oh.”
“I’m licking it all up and down.”
“I’m so wet, Tom. It’s so goood.”
“I’m licking you faster now.”
“Ah…ah…yeah…go on. Go on.”
“I’m thirsty, let me drink from your buttercup.” I heard her come, softly, lest someone might hear her, I thought. I masturbated in time with her urgent moans and ejaculated in my boxer shorts.
“Whoa, you’re somethin’.
“Thanks.”
“I’m sleepy. Let’s do this again tomorrow night.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night.”

Our midnight sessions went on for quite a while, until she invited me to meet her at their town center. I was excited. It was a sure win thing, for a hot-blooded male like me, but I was never prepared for what I was about to face.
It was already December, Christmas tunes made the air jolly. The first time we saw each other, she exceeded my expectations, literally. She was fat and full of pimples. She looked like Rosie O’Donnell as a nineteen year old with a dark tan. But when I heard her call my name, hearing that beautiful feminine voice, I knew this encounter was not about looks. This was about trust and belongingness and friendship, of kindred spirits in a world full of strangers. I went to her and she took my arm. I kissed her long and deep. She responded in kind. After eating at the local deli, she saw me off. I went home, in love.

It was already the day before Christmas day. I wanted to see her again. She asked me to come back to their town. The very first thing she did was to give me a tour of their suburb, Forest Hills. We came to the center, a little woodland. We sat on the grass and locked lips. She put her tongue in my mouth. I put mine into her mouth and she sucked on it. She told me to lie down. I said, “Why?”
“You’ll see.” She unbuttoned my fly, pulled down my pants and underwear, and my flag waved at her. She placed her chubby fingers around it.
“Already erect, eh. You’re in for a treat.” With my eyes to the leaves of the trees, I felt her probe it with her tongue, then lap at it like a lollipop.
“Oh-oh.”
“You like it, huh,” she teased. The head was like a microphone on her lips.
“Oh, yes.” Without a word, she put it in. A few moments later, I came. Somebody giggled in the distance.
“Is there somebody around?” I asked, as I got dressed.
“Nobody that I can see”, Crissie replied in a singsong. She was already up and giving me her hand. Going out of the woods, we were met by one of her girlfriends, Jeannie. She smirked at me. The two had a ‘girl talk’. I felt embarrassed at the same time trying to be cool. Jeannie left us and then we went to her house. I met her mother and kid brothers and we had a sumptuous time at the banquet table. After a few hours of talk with her family, I took my leave. She walked me to their gate and gave me a deep one.
“I love you”, saying it in her ear.
“Oh, um, I love you too.”
“Merry Chrismas, Crissie.”
“Merry Christmas, Tom.” I walked away. When I looked back, there she was, smiling her sweet smile at me. I waved back. I congratulated myself.

However, I can’t fool myself any longer. She’s disturbed, like Winona in Girl Interrupted. I’m not going to use her and leave. Feminists may damn me for trying to play the knight in shining armor, but that’s what I just did. I’m going to turn her around with my love.

Before the end of the year we had sex. And the days after. She’d call me to come to her house in the noon. By 1 pm, I was ringing her bell. She came out, hair wet, with only a towel covering her roundness. As soon as the door closed, I grabbed her, towel falling, and like I had said on the phone, I did make her feel like ice cream, melting. As we hit her bed, I was lapping at her Venus delta, just laying the whole length of my tongue on her labias, inner thighs, and on her dense pubic hair. I swallowed a strand or two.
“Tom, you really deliver,” she breathed, her thick round legs spread wide. When she came, white thick fluid oozed from the Delta. She was more than ready.
“Put it now, you bad, bad boy.”
My passion high, I directed my plunger with one hand and sunk it in. For all the weight she put on, she made up for intense vaginal pleasure. She was so very tight, hot, and slippery! In 1996, at 22, I was not yet the guru that I am now. I had just began training. As I made a few thrusts, I almost embarrassed myself by blowing up in the first few seconds. I pulled it out and sat up.
“What’s wrong?” Crissie asked, frowning.
“Nothin”, I lied. My rooster was nodding like crazy. Finally it calmed down. I recalled what I read in Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Red Book, Seventeen, and even Playboy, my modern Kamasutras. I relaxed my breathing. I let my mind wander elsewhere, distantly registering the sensation of my phallus gradually disappearing into Crissie’s private place, planting my legs at her wide buttocks, and grabbing her heavy calves for leverage. Then, I functioned like a machine. Opening my eyes minutes later, I saw her big boobs wave like the tides in Blue Crush, her head turning from side to side, seemingly trying to comprehend this novel, non-quickie love. When she came, white, sticky vagi-liva burst from her and slathered my balls. I went at her for like four hours, with a few breaks in between.
By five she asked me huskily, “Aren’t you going to come? You have to come now or my mom and the boys will see you here, and there will be lots of questions.”
With that, I laid my full weight on her, my face before her face, and moved, looking into her round, brown eyes.
There’s a problem. I have numbed myself for hours to avoid premature ejaculation, but then, when I need to release it, it’s so desensitized. Actually, I enjoyed more the pumping than the climax. I said to myself, better fake it than get caught on top of somebody’s only daughter.
I started up again and grimacing, I blurted, “I’m coming now, Crissie! Oh Crissie!” That’s when Crissie became tighter and tighter. Her vaginal muscles were strong, pressing on my shaft like it were a toothpaste tube. Now I felt I was really going to blow. Right now, she was coming with me.
“Ah…ah…Crissie! I love you!”
“I love you too. Tom, I’m coming too!” As her vagina contracted, I pulled out just in time before my manhood burst. I ejaculated on her stomach, as some of my sperm landed on her boobs, and as far as her neck.
“Whew, amazing. Tomorrow?” She pleaded with her eyes, the edges of her mouth slightly curving up, showing her cute dimples. My little chubby darling. She was finger-painting her body with my white goo. I lay on top of her, my own sperm spreading on my torso, her nethermouth bathing and tickling my bowed supplicant with waves of heat and static electricity. She kissed me and my flag was raised again.
“Again?” she exclaimed, delighted. She pushed me off, stood herself on her elbows and knees, and let her broad behind face me, invitingly.
“Come in me now”, she snarled. I couldn’t resist. I straddled her back, going in and out hard and deep, with her shouting her pleasure. My chin was on her shoulders, my panting blowing the hairs off her ear. I cupped her Cup C breasts. I came again on her round brown ass that could rival Beyoncé Knowles’.
We went on like this for four months. I can tell you about how I brought her to orgasm in the cinema with a lesbian couple intently eyeing us, or when we went to a wooded ridge and salsa-ed on our feet, resting her back on a tree, while her girl friend and her boy shook the van parked some distance away. I gave her flowers and gifts. I never put down the phone without saying how much I loved her. But no, it was never wholly peachy. Some good things were not meant to last.

One day I woke up, the world changed. I couldn’t talk with her like the way we used to. She sounded bored. She didn’t tell me come over anymore, or ask when was the next date. Finally, she stopped receiving my calls altogether. I panicked. I went to her place and rang the bell. No answer. I saw shadows within the windows. I reached over and unlocked the gate. I knocked on the door. It opened a crack. And then I saw her face, cold. Behind her stood a man. It was dear old Rick. My heart felt like it was jabbed by Manny Pacquiao, and fell on lawn, dazed, looking up at my ladylove and her new lover, not believing my eyes. Finally, it all sank in. Crissie then slammed her door to my face. As I turned around, Rick went out and tried to sound apologetic. I didn’t care. I was too in love with a woman who just wanted to play. My personality back then was predisposed to avoid confrontation before it gets any worse, for me and for them.
I left her house and Forest Hills forever. I walked aimlessly in the streets for hours. I was numbed with disbelief way through the evening. Thugs bumped me. Cars swerved to avoid me, honking their invectives. Old ladies asked what was wrong. I went on. As my feet began to ache, I regained my bearings and my senses. That’s when I took a ride home. I went straight to my bedroom, and cried. I cried and cried. My desk shook, as I put down my fists hard. Unashamed, the walls were my only witness. As my sobs calmed a bit, the memory of Rick’s sheepish grin behind her and what they’ve been doing behind my back made me start all over, racking with sobs. In the course of my sexual, love, and relationship life, I would cry for the women I lost to other men or to their disapproving families. I gave my soul to the women I loved and the doors just on kept slamming. Long after my tears dried up. It would be years later that I felt I finally received the mercy of Venus.

Postscript.
When I saw Crissie and Rick again, in 1999, my old flame had become obese. We talked, she asking me how I’ve been, placing her hand on top of mine when Rick wasn’t looking. But her eyes were sad, which pained me really acutely. I loved this woman! I thought she’s happy with rich man Rick, my old best friend. I learned the real reason. Later that year, I bumped into Jeannie in Makati, and she told me, Rick had hurt Crissie, my Crissie. She said the guy backhanded her for a remark that mentioned my name. Since then, she said, it’s getting worse. I pity him. Karma can be a bitch. As for Crissie, I pray for her to this day.
Yes, I loved Crissie, loved everything about her. I FORGAVE HER A LONG TIME AGO.
Thanks for bearing with me. I hope…well there’s plenty of time to write. I’ll tell you next time. Bye for now.