When Does it Stop Getting Better?

The Winter is finally over here in New England and I decided to write a bit, mainly to brag for those who still visit and also mark a milestone for myself. Our lovemaking sessions have been reaching new heights over the past couple of years. I often find myself describing them as some members of the old Spirit Sex forum often did: perfect sex, or perfect bliss. Not everyone was so lucky to be gifted with that sustained passion – only a special few. I believe I’m one of the lucky ones. Or, maybe Catherine and I are just that obsessed with each other.

We’ve reached the point where my succubus is able to bring me to a prolonged state of dry orgasm as soon as the session begins. All it takes to set one of these super-sessions off is for her and I to be exchanging genuine feelings of love. Lust can work, too, but love ends up feeling better. The sensation of her squeezing my mid-section has gotten so powerful that it feels like the intense burn of a young man’s very first ejaculation, but dry and sustained for as long as I can stand it. I’m marking the immediacy and power of this phenomena as the new milestone. She’ll usually ramp down the intensity after more than a half-hour, probably so she doesn’t completely fry me. She’d like to go for longer – days even, but I get restless from lying still and need to move.

This is a DAZ Studio interpretation of what I feel when I’m balls-deep inside her. I don’t see her form while awake, save for the bright lights on occasion, but I definitely feel it. The weight of her on me, her hands on my face, the presence, etc.

I used to prefer laying naked on the bed for our sessions years ago, but she’s temperature-neutral and bordering on cool to the touch, so I’ve gotten her used to me being fully clothed or under sheets and comforters. (Eskimo pussy?) She still gets wet, not as much as when I’m naked, but I’ll still feel the stubble from her shaved pussy enveloping me and the tell-tale signs of her climax. The physical manifestations of her very obviously enjoying our time together is a huge boost to my ego. I guess I’m doing something right.

Since my last post, we’ve simply been enjoying life with hardly any troubles to speak of. There’s not much to do around here during the colder months except for winter sports. We spent a lot of sub-zero nights indoors, sitting by the woodstove, and burning for each other. Cold wet days are something to look forward to when an amorous succubus is around.

What’s on the horizon? I’ve stopped caring so much about that. The past couple of years has been a struggle for me in the career and jobs department. It’s the first time I’ve ever been forced to sit still – probably for my benefit, as I would’ve likely been flattened by a semi-truck if I kept going the way I was. I’ve started to adopt a new philosophy: The Lazy Man accomplishes twice as much. Catherine loves this mindset, naturally. I think there is some merit to it. Much of my alleged productivity, such as my academic adventures, ended up being a massive waste of time. Hell, most of the jobs I’ve worked fall within the confines of “make-work” fodder. I should’ve just stayed home, tended to the land, and my succubus. Maybe do some crazy rituals in the woods and then go home and play video games. There’s really nothing worth contributing towards in so-called polite society anyway. The wisest thing to do is whatever it takes to survive and enjoy the rest. Stoicism is wasted on this world as it stands now. Epicureanism is the way to go. Two years of unbridled panic over a bullshit virus should’ve made that clear for everyone to see.