Nineteenth and Twentieth

I don’t keep riding, I know how that doesn’t work by now. I could ride myself to more cumming immediately, probably several times; but it will wear me out, just like yesterday, when I was knackered when the day was only half done. I need to strategise this. There is still plenty of time. When I cum only once every hour, I will make it easily, and it will be much less stressful and tiring.

I get up from the pole, but I maintain my arousal. I watch porn for about half an hour. I imagine it is me, when a huge black dick impales a girl who seems much too small to take it. I tell myself that I’m not scared of it at all, it looks like a great way for her to be driven into cumming. Taking the full scene into my brain sustains my hornification, stretches it, supports it like a buttress, makes it durable and stable.

When I feel comfortable about my durability, I take another ride, a longer and slower one. I stretch it to 10 minutes before I yell out “19!” to the mirror, and get off the Hitachi again without trying for the next immediately.

Another anal video is playing, and I don’t even have to **** myself to cross the boundary between disgust and salaciousness again; I never even return to the wrong side. I watch in amazement as the girl isn’t taken on all fours, but straddles the man. She leads his cock into her asshole and starts bouncing down on him herself. She doesn’t really seem distressed or in pain, rather, the haze of lascivious delight is in her expression as she rides him vigorously. There is no indication that she has any acting skills; it looks completely genuine. It makes me wonder… no, I could never do that, not with the man behind the mirror watching me. Still, a seed of fascination is sewn; and if anything, it maintains my hornification levels perfectly.

When half an hour has passed, it certainly is enough to return to a pole again. For the first time, I pick one extending from the wall rather than the floor, protruding into the room almost horizontally, and go down on all fours to press my ass back towards it. I am very aware that there are two possible holes which might gobble up the dildo, but I desperately try to hide that thought from my observer, and I aim for slit without hesitation. I ride it fast and furious, cumming is upon me in minutes.

“Twenty.“ My words to the mirror are a whisper now. I’m keeping my schedule, going slow, going steady, but this strain still grabs me. Every single orgasm is a peak which is more than I ever lived through, and the stack of them is taking its toll as well. My new strategy aims to diminish fatigue, but it cannot eliminate it. Ten to go.