I began dating a twenty-six-year-old woman I met in an evening French class. We talked while walking in the same direction home after the class. On one such walk, I asked her out. She was an artist, who worked with visiting artists in fabric print media. Usually, the visiting artists were new to working with fabrics and she helped them with the new media. Sketches and paintings from the visiting artists hung in the rooms in the house she and her two roommates lived in. Sex was good, in that she had a hot body and was very funny and cute. She liked different positions and let me experiment to a point, but licking her clit was forbidden. Masturbation was not something she did or talked about.

After a few weeks, I decided the nuns in the Catholic high school she had attended years before were somehow to blame. I ordered an electric massager that was marketed as a masturbation device. It was fairly quiet at the low speed, and I had experienced this model when I'd found one on the bedside table while house-sitting. My engorged cockhead had enjoyed wearing one of the attachments on that device like a little hat. I figured that if my girlfriend refused to let me use the machine on her, it still wouldn’t gather dust.

It arrived, and on the following weekend she was going to sleep at my place. At playtime, I showed her the box and gadgetry. She began crying and said she was a freak. Said her previous boyfriend had told her she was frigid. I told her there was no such thing.

It took a lot of coaxing and gentle suggestion to be allowed to use the massager on her neck and shoulders. I did that for a while and it eventually traveled to her ass and thighs. I suggested massaging her front and talked her into turning over. When the vibe slowly sneaked along toward her clit she grabbed a paperback from my night table and began to read it, like she was bored or something. She turned the page about every minute. I quickly switched to the attachment for “personal stimulation” and she turned pages faster.

After several minutes of teasing, she said, “That feels so good,” and continued turning pages. The tip of the massager worked closer to her clit from different angles and then began repeating a slow path that ended at the tip of a stiff cluster of female nerve endings.

“What are you doing?” she said, and then threw the book. Around thirty seconds later she began growling and grunting, her hips making a fucking motion and her head lifting off the pillow. I kept vibrating her clit, then began easing away from it and switched off the device.

When her breath became normal I asked if that had ever happened before. “Not even close,” she answered, staring at the ceiling. I waited five more minutes while I guessed she was letting it sink in. I told her women can sometimes go again. She didn’t say anything, and I waited a minute for her to give an answer, but she seemed to be shy about that. So I switched on the massager and she opened her thighs. When she came this time her head rose from the pillow but there was less grunting and more moaning.

I told her we needed to wait for the machine to cool down, and we kissed while my penis slid around in a precum smear on her thigh. She was very slippery inside too, and we fucked until I had to cum.

Afterwards, she spread her thighs once again when she heard the switch and the hum, and came again, moaning and lifting her head. She was now very ticklish and giggly, and wouldn’t let me touch her anywhere. "I’m very sleepy," she said and was out like a light.

I tried to sleep as well, but was too worked up. I needed a reliable sleep-inducer, so I lay next to her and masturbated while running the entire sequence in my mind. With her in deep sleep, I shot cum onto my chest.

Two times more during the night, I woke her by turning on the device and helping her to make up for lost time.