My sex life is, for the most part, with myself, but I do have one, and with the aid of an addiction to romance novels - and the internet - I get quite a bit of inspiration. Now Brad, whatever his last name was, was an even more important inspiration.

Although I admittedly felt a little guilty over it.

I have a dildo, because penetration has always aroused me. The bigger the better, as long as it doesn't hurt, of course. How much, how big I can take comfortably is a physical byproduct of my body's reaction to arousal. This is scientific fact.

Thus the vibrator.

I know people who think I'm a prude would be astonished, but I really don't understand why. Do they honestly think a person can't talk respectfully and expect proper manners while still being interested in sex and sexuality? Honestly!

Brad reminded me of Conan the Barbarian, a movie I watched mainly for the hunky men (savages!) in loincloths. I don't mean the early one with Arnold Schwarzenegger or whatever his name was, but the newer one with the tall, rugged man from California.

I stepped into the shower, which had been remodeled ten years earlier. It wasn't large, but had a tiled bench where I could perch, and there I imagined being a slave girl being held prisoner by a cruel warlord, being used ruthlessly and outrageously!

I let my left hand caress and knead my breasts as my right pushed the dildo deeper, my breathing growing more ragged as my body flushed and my skin heated. When it was sufficiently deep I let the heel of my hand press against it as my fingers stroked my already engorged clitoris, arching my back as sensations began to pulse upward from between my legs!

My breasts already felt warm and swollen. The clarity of the vision in my mind's eyes was much sharper than usual since I was not basing it on pure imagination or even on someone I'd seen in a picture or in a movie, but in life, only a short time earlier.

That made me especially aroused, and I felt my heart racing as the heel of my hand pushed rhythmically against the base of the dildo, forcing it slowly deeper. It ached, but given the nature of my fantasy, that was actually helping!

I moaned softly, squeezing my breasts more roughly now, as if it were him doing so. He would be rough, I knew! He would be no gentle, respectful lover! He would be a brute! An animal! He would use me ruthlessly!

I squirmed helplessly on the bench, one leg extended, the other on the floor, spread wide as my hips sought to grind forward against my fingers. I was jamming the heel of my palm harder and faster against the dildo, forcing it achingly deep as my fingers danced on my clitoris!

I was surprised, very surprised, when the heel of my palm made contact with the soft flesh of my mons! I stared down, gasping for breath, amazed that I had forced the whole thing into me! It ached but it ached deliciously! I felt so full! I didn't think I'd ever gotten all of it into me before!

I moaned to myself, then abandoned my breast, reaching down with my left hand to stroke my clitoris as my right gripped the base of the dildo between thumb and fingers, drawing it slowly back, then thrusting it in again. Hard!

I gasped helplessly, moaning, arching back and rolling my head against the corner of the walls! The heat rolled up my body in waves as I began to pump harder and faster, letting out harsh, ragged little cries of pleasure mixed with pain as the nose jammed into what must surely be the deepest part of my vaginal tunnel!

I felt the orgasm rising up, up, up, and then, as I pumped even faster and rubbed even harder, it fell upon me like a collapsing tidal wave! The explosive release of pleasure swamped my mind, and I cried out in a long, undulating scream - yes, scream - of pleasure as my entire body trembled violently!

I screamed out every breath in my lungs, then sucked in a desperate breath and cried that out, too! What a wonderful orgasm! It was so intense! Much better than usual!

I had first had a powerful orgasm when I was still in my teens. It remains one of my more humiliating life experiences. Of course, the boy I was with was delighted. And of course, he had bragged to everyone he knew about it.

I was a "screamer", in the parlance of crude, disrespectful, improper gossiping conversations! It is one of the reasons why I am so reluctant to engage physically with men. I am proud of myself as a dignified, intelligent, educated and sophisticated woman! Losing all my dignity and becoming a howling animal is... humiliating!

Not if no one hears, of course. I have often thought how good sex with a deaf man might be!