Ch.4 -- Professional Help
One Month After the Anniversary
"I have the pussy. I make the rules." Annie muttered to herself with half of the humming shaft inside her.
"Oh god." She panted. The shaft of the vibrating dildo painted her insides with a deep purple shade of lust. But it was her mind, her new mantra that was allowing it, coaching her to stretch and take more inside her.
"I have the pussy..." The toyed hummed steadily. She pushed it in another half-inch. Such good advice.
The toy wasn't something she could've ever tried before. It took a 15-years-gone-by, breathlessly hot memory, a persistently horny husband, and some major advances in vibrator design and engineering for her to try something like this.
Covered in soft silicone, it was light-years beyond the hard plastic or rubbery toys she'd always seen that seemed a little too intimidating. Her new "friend" wasn't quite as long as Sam but about as thick, with a little appendage that looked like a tiny cock or an obscenely long clitoris, which worried her own clit as soon as she massaged the dildo far enough inside. It was quite a leap from her old, "pocket rocket" and bullet toys.
"Mnnnnnmm," she licked her lips as the little cock finally started brushing her growing clit.
She was already cumming by her previous standards when she finally squirmed the last inch inside her. But as the vibrations of the big shaft hit her g-spot, (something she'd always needed Sam for previously) at the same time the little guy/girl found its mark against her clit and she really hit the "big one" as she called it.
"I make the rules." She grunted as she came off the huge orgasm. The affirmation by itself sent made her orgasms flutter again.
The dildo was still buzzing - almost grinding away at her lingering inhibitions. And unlike her pure clit massagers, she couldn't take it off right away. It was deep inside her, methodically massaging her innermost spot. Maybe when she got more used to its length and girth she could pull it right out, but not now. And because she hadn't cum from Sam pounding away on her like some kind of hammer beating an anvil, it wasn't so intense that she needed it to stop.
It wasn't better than sex with Sam- she was pretty sure that she couldn't quite replicate that feeling. Those feelings she should say: one when she ground and rode on top of him, lifting and dropping her pussy and clit on his cock; or the other, when he was like a beast on top of, or behind her, opening her up by repeatedly thrusting in and out, smacking up against her, making her butt shake from the force of their fucking.
Yet even so, her new toy let her explore something similar all on her own, an autonomous mining of those deep nerve endings. And it was satisfying a hunger, which practically speaking, Sam couldn't every single day with kids, site meetings, etc.
For a moment the concern returned- was she losing herself in hedonistic perversion? Was she grinding her sensibilities away?
"No. I'm polishing myself, my self, my sex." Annie was happy.
And Sam's happy. God knows he's happy, if maybe a bit confused, maybe a little bit in the dark, but he can't argue with her- he's fucking thrilled. She'd milked his cum out of him like a pulp romance harlot two nights ago. He lay in a heap on top of her for a few minutes afterwards, like a steam train at rest on the tracks, huffing and blowing out steam while his spent cock pulsed to pump the last of his seed into her wet, open sex.
She was testing him and herself. It was a funny analogy, but she couldn't get it out of her head. "They're testing the fences!" She laughed to herself. Well, half-laughed, half-spasmed as the relentless toy hummed away to another small orgasm. Annie was learning; tinkering really, with how to push Sam's buttons and her own to specific desired effects.
Dr. Carly, who in retrospect had done a lot to inspire the delicious developments of the last two weeks would approve. Approve that Annie was following a woman's advice, happy that Annie was exploring herself, pleasuring herself, but not as some kind of treat. As the new normal, as part of a paradigm shift.
************
45 Days Before the Anniversary
Nearly 3 months prior, a friend posted a link about conducting a self-inventory via social media. The link led to a video of a talk, which was really good and spoke to her about honest ways of being grateful for what one has, but still going out to get the things one doesn't have but wants. Annie was "working on it" as she'd say.
Within the comments section on that talk was a curious link to another lecture promoting confidence in women by a Dr. Carly Venner. Comments sections are dangerous places, Annie knew that, but this OP's other comments seemed pretty reasonable and confidence was a fickle mistress for Annie. Moreover, a few folks, including some with male screen names, had thanked the OP profusely for introducing them to Dr. Venner's theories, which would scare and fascinate her leading up to the fateful anniversary.
One of Venner's contentions is that women's insecurities and fears are not all that biologically distinct from men, but are rendered much more difficult to address by hypocritical cultural norms. In other words, men have all kinds of socially encouraged means of testing and expressing power, confidence, even dominance, but women are discouraged from most of the same means.
Circumstances have improved somewhat through women's athletics and the growing influence of lesbian culture on straight women according to Venner, for fairly straightforward reasons: women were in charge more and confidence is cultivated by opportunity to lead, not the other way around. But where things really got sticky and provocative was Venner's focus on changing the personal dynamics of women's sex lives.
About 5 minutes, into her talk, (3 minutes longer than the average boyfriend and husband's attention span for a woman talking), Dr. Carly presented her main, rather controversial theory:
Women must exhibit sexual dominance over men and other women.
"Only after sexual dominance is achieved, can we navigate and introduce parity into a man's world." Dr. Carly abruptly asserted in a gentle Southern accent. Her calm, nearly cloying voice was in such a stark contrast from her radical, kind-of-offensive theories. Her leggy, toned middle aged body and bleach-blonde hair providing both a softness and an edge to her overall presentation. From there on out, the lecture became "adult" with a number of frank points of borderline erotic discussion.
Among them were detailed discussions of male and female biology, cultural analysis of non-heterosexual dynamics, modern Japanese sexual dysfunction, pornography consumption studies, and some greater and lesser anecdotes such as a rather fishy claim that male CEOs have a propensity to frequent dominatrices.
*A slide of a woman in a leather bodice and thigh-high boots standing behind a seated man flashed behind Dr. Carly.
Annie wasn't sure about that kind of thing, but she kept watching and listening.
And speaking on all these issues Dr. Carly declined to use clinical terms because as she put it, "The delicate treatment of female sexuality does not empower us, it undermines us by treating us as delicate flowers unable to have 'pussies' or 'tits' without being compromised or being sexually subordinate."
"How many times do you hear confident, powerful men call their manhood a 'penis," she questioned to a laughing audience. "Never! It is a cock, or a rod, or a shaft, or in its humble, platonic moments, a 'dick," she smiled in answer to her own query.
*A slide of a confident, rugged, and half-naked man.
"But Carly, aren't 'pussy,' 'ass,' and 'tits' all a little crass? A little uncouth?" "Yes! Yes of course, but it is also the language of uninhibited sexuality! No one writes an erotic story about 'his proud and steely penis."
The audience laughed again. "I have a vagina with my obstetrician, not my lovers, correct? But when I say I have a 'pussy' what does that mean to you? What does it mean to me?"
*A slide of a smiling, self-assured woman in a cocktail dress.
"To me, it means I have the superior sexual biology. I have the ability to cum multiple times, in multiple places, in multiple ways, with or with anyone else in the room. In the proper physical and mental condition I can outlast any man in the duration and intensity of sexual pleasure, correct?"
*A slide of a large astrological symbol for venus behind a woman in business attire reaching into her own pants while a man watches.
"And so my pussy takes what it wants. It does not 'receive.' My pussy expresses what cocks, straight, and gay by the way, all around the world have comfortably reckoned every day without a second thought since the beginning of time - that its penultimate function is to feel and produce pleasure."
*The same woman with her hands in the man's hair as he kisses her chest.
"Yes, yes. The primary function of sexual anatomy is to a mechanism for providing us our treasured children. But even there we are built undeniably to have pleasure aid conception."
*A series of gifs of a vagina and cervix in orgasm.
"As we cum, two amazing things happen. As you see here, the contractions of orgasm cause cervical dip. Our cervix essentially buckles in our ecstasy, dipping down so it can soak our eggs in sperm," instructed Dr. Carly.
"At the same time, our bodies reward us with a flood of Oxytocin! Not only are we awarded those delicious moments of euphoria and relaxation, but research tells us that this orgasmic chemical flood reduces fear and anxiety, helps us bond with our mate or mates, and nourishes our arousal for future encounters."
*A softcore image of the same woman straddling the man in her office chair.
"This is by design, ladies, design! The implications of this design are startling to our cultural norms.
