SEX DIARIES: ‘He used a prostate massager on my clitoris. It was the best orgasm of my life.'

I dropped down into the train seat and shrugged my overnight bag off my shoulder. I felt so naughty, knowing I was headed for a dirty night out of town. 

As I bent over to straighten my black suede, thigh-high boots, the guy sitting across from me looked up with a half-smile on his lips. I blushed and sank down further in the seat. 

Just then, I received a text: "I found some things."

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With the text was a photo of some black bed ties. I recognised them at once. 

It had been more than two years since Sam and I had caught up. 

Sam, a country doctor, would come down to the city for the weekend every few months and take me out, wining and dining me until we fell into another luxurious hotel bed and had sex all night long in the crisp sheets. 

As an expert in the human body, Sam knew exactly what he was doing and which buttons to press. He could send me wild with his touch, from a sensual massage to foreplay, and had the naughtiest dirty talk I’d heard. 

Building me up to the most incredible orgasm, he’d come loud and hard inside me, and then, within five minutes, he’d be raring for more. 


My phone flashed beside me again. 

“I aim to please.” 

By the time my train pulled into the station, my blood was racing with excitement. I reapplied a red lip and a spritz of Armani.

Sam opened his front door with a glass of red wine in one hand and pulled me in for a bear hug. At over 190cm tall, his arms engulfed me, and with a dazzling smile and musky scent that lingered in the air, I was hooked again. Even new laughter lines and grey strands creeping through his hair left him looking more distinguished than ever. 

I followed him down the corridor as he grabbed another glass and a bottle off the kitchen counter and settled myself on the couch. Work, family, friends, life — we had so much to catch up on, but it wasn’t long before he reached out and took the glass out of my hand. 

Placing it on the coffee table, he turned to face me, with a renewed fire in his eyes. Leaning forward, his lips were suddenly on mine, devouring me. Unbuttoning my dress, he let it fall to the floor, before pulling my body down the couch and pinning me underneath him. 

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Slipping my nipples out of the top of my bra, he sucked deeply on them until they were pert. While his tongue worked its magic, my fingers worked his shirt open until it fell away, and my nails could release themselves into his back. 

Rolling onto his side, Sam began to slowly trace the outline of my black lace panties, gently rubbing his warm fingers over my clitoris, back and forth. The suspense was torture and I physically ached for him. 


Kissing along my neck, he reached my ear, nibbling on my lobe.

"Let's move this into the bedroom," he breathed. 

In one swift move, he scooped me up and carried me down the hall. Laying me on his big double bed, he flipped me over so I was face down, and flicked my bra lose. 

Suddenly Sam pulled my arms above my head. Reaching for the bed ties, he bound my wrists together, before attaching them to the headboard. Sliding his hand up my thigh, he yanked my underwear down, leaving me totally exposed.  

Tied up and naked, and lying on my front, I pulled against my restraints, feeling deliciously vulnerable. 

Without warning, Sam pulled my head to the side. He’d stripped off and was kneeling in front of my face, pushing himself into my mouth. I gladly took him as he groaned in deep pleasure, guiding my head backwards and forwards. 

Moving behind me, he lowered himself over my body, reaching one hand under my chest to pull me tight as he drove himself in sharply. Filling me up, he moved quicker, in and out, as I moaned into the pillow. 

He slowed as he leant across the bed to reach into his bedside table, pulling out something silicon and black. Holding his thumb over the end of it, the new toy buzzed to life.

Lifting my body up, he slipped his hand underneath me, placing the device in front of my clit and sending every single sensation south, as Sam started to push into me again. 

It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in a toy. The strength, the intensity and the urgency brought cascading waves of pleasure. It was all too much, and I came frantically, as Sam drove into me, releasing himself too. 


Collapsing on top of me, we laid there in a heap of exhaustion, breathing heavily. My mind was stunned. 

“What. Was. That?” I panted, looking up at Sam’s face of satisfaction. 

“A prostate massager,” he grinned, “did you like it?”

As my pulse began to slow, my breathing returned, but my thoughts couldn’t leave this new toy. I wanted to know everything. Where Sam got it, whether he had used, how it made him feel. 

The more we talked, the more I wanted to try it again.

“Tomorrow, baby,” Sam whispered in my ear. “I’m spent.”

“Talk to me then,” I urged him on, as I grabbed the prostate massager for myself. With a perfectly shaped handle, I gripped the toy tight, and – laying on my back – dipped it between my legs. Focusing on my clit only, I held its vibrations to me, moving it back and forth, rubbing it against my skin, harder and harder, as Sam detailed his fantasies for the two of us. 

The pleasure built and built like never before. Turning my face away from Sam to the ceiling, I involuntarily arched my back, letting the device take over. It was just me and this prostate massager now. The intensity rose, higher and higher, as the ecstasy reached a level I’d never felt. My orgasm exploded from every fibre of my being in a total out-of-body experience.

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