Kicked
So I’m pretty sure Laramy’s penis kicked me in the balls.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking: “Silly Pussy, chicks don’t have balls.” Well, you haven’t seen me sing karaoke, then. It takes serious stones to belt out Sister Christian by Night Ranger when you haven’t had a sip of alcohol since last October.
I guess you do have a point, though. Maybe I don’t literally have balls to be kicked in, and maybe Laramy’s cock doesn’t literally have feet with which to kick. But what did happen resulted in some crazy sensations that seem roughly parallel.
For a long time I’ve likened having my cervix pounded into to getting kicked in the balls. This was based only on the fact that it hurts and cramps and makes me want to stop having sex (I’ve met very few men who want to soldier on after I’ve accidentally taken out their artillery, if you know what I mean. Boo.) But one thing I pride myself on is my ability to understand proportion. I knew all along that it wasn’t a perfect comparison. There seems to be some sort of blinding nausea that comes into play in the balls scenario. As someone mentioned on twitter, it’s “like someone dropped a load of cement on your guts.” Also, there appears to be a profound full-body weakening that skates past mere pain and into the realm of horrifying comic book vulnerabilities. My cervix has never worked this kind of alchemy.
Until, perhaps, recently.
Laramy and I were in agreement: we were damn well about to fuck any minute. First, I thought I’d put on some music to drown out my caterwauling so I was bent over my keyboard, ass presented. Laramy came up behind me, my pants collapsed to the floor, and suddenly I found it incredibly difficult to concentrate on pointing and clicking anything. His cock slid in and I gasped as it split me. I’m not sure what it was: my pussy gripping harder than usual in ever denser and more furious orgasms, or some slightly altered angle as he fucked me from behind, but the intensity was blistering. I either had roughly 300 orgasms in rapid succession or one incredibly long one. I honestly couldn’t tell.
After a while like that, I was starting to feel crampy enough that the mad orgasms weren’t dulling it anymore. It was really starting to fucking hurt, actually. But I have these priorities, see. When one position is bringing pain, you don’t throw the baby out with the sexual bathwater (…it got weird, didn’t it?), you change position. So I switched to an even lazier posture: missionary. And then we fucked some more. The pain seemed less urgent. I pretended I didn’t see it sitting there, watching us fuck. The orgasms (orgasm?) kept coming in, crashing. Laramy was pounding harder now, building. It suddenly occurred to me that when all that climaxing, analgesic of the gods, stopped I’d probably have something unpleasant to deal with. But you know how when you’re in the throes of passion you just don’t care?
But, as they ever must, the orgasms eventually came to an end. And sweet leaping Odin, a singular and absurd pain broke across my body. It was rather like the feeling one has during and just after a spinal tap: blasted with weakness and nausea and an inexorable pressure. I was shuddering and hysterically panting/giggling, though I assure you it didn’t seem funny at the time. I wanted to get to the bathroom in case I had to throw up, but I could barely move at first. Just shake. And laugh. Then I tottered semi-successfully to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I felt right again within 10 or 15 minutes.
I think I traumatized Laramy a little. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt me, but I was so set on ignoring everything to keep having awesome sex he ended up not getting much of a choice. It was so totally not his fault, but I know he felt pretty bad. Probably because I looked so wrecked from it. Fortunately he wasn’t so upset that he’s refusing to have sex with me now or anything.
But you know, it did kind of feel like someone dropped a load of cement on my guts, so I’m wondering if somehow we fucked at an angle where his penis kicked my cervix, and that I experienced the female version of being kicked in the balls. Either way, I’m going to recommend you go ahead and not try it.
That’s your ovary that he kicked babe. It’s just like being kicked in the knackers. Obviously you’ve bent in a way that has transferred the shock wave up or out further than usual.
@Damian Despite fully understanding that ovaries are analogous to testicles, that honestly never occurred to me. Huh.
They seem like they’d be too far out of the way to be hit that way…
This is probably an overshare to a bunch of strangers (hi, strangers!), but when I was 15, I had an ovarian cyst. In order to ascertain that the horrible pain in my abdomen was, in fact, an ovarian cyst, the doctor put several fingers up in me and sort of poked really hard off to the side. It hurt like hell, partly because she was poking the cyst in question, but anyway–yes, ovaries can be poked that way.
Since then, I’ve occasionally had experiences like this during sex, especially in certain positions (like doggie) and particularly if there’s something else going on in that neighborhood, like if I’m ovulating.
This is why I like tall women.
@quizzical pussy
You’ve obviously had good gynecologists. I’ve had pelvic exams by a few who obviously had my ovaries confused with fruit, because the palpation was more like an attempt to pick them.
I’ve had this experience twice in my life.
DO. NOT. WANT.
After having set up the whole moment and getting really hot and heavy (ride him like a pony – yehaw) all of the sudden:crushing:bruising:complete and utter agonizing pain courses through my body in radiating waves.
I fling myself into the bathroom and pray to the porcelain ghod for near 20 minutes as he’s holding my hair and wiping the sweat off of my body. I think I laid in the bathroom for another half an hour after that just to make sure I wasn’t dead and the cold floor was keeping me alive.
Yep, been there done that. It required a warm bath. The sex was so amazing though that it was just almost worth it.