Opposite of PTSD?

Erika Moen posted the other day a comic about the Liberator Chaise Lounger.

And I had a flashback – a sexual war story or sorts.  The opposite of PTSD.  Post-sex-syndrome maybe?

The sex party we got invited to, I had my own experience with a chaise lounger.

I started the night finding the second kinky guy of the party.  (I knew the first kinky guy because, well, he had helped secure the invite to the party.) Later, the host approached me, slid his hand into my hair, grabbed it, then sank his teeth into my neck.

I’m surprised there wasn’t a puddle on the floor right there.

I had never really seen him play before.  Feeling his teeth on my neck, well, I knew the issue.  He was kinky, and few women were kinky at the party.

After leaving marks on my neck – both sides – he pulled me over to their Liberator Chaise Lounger.  He laid back, slid on a condom, then invited me to join him.

Oh yeah, teeth on the neck? Hand in my hair? I was there.  Let’s go.

And let’s go, we did.

I’ll have to say that the piece of sex furniture was amazing.  Teeth on me – my cunt on him – it was perfect.  At one point, someone commented about our intensity.  I sank back down on his cock, looked at them, then asked “do you mind – we are fucking here – the peanut gallery can be quiet.”

They obliged.

Going to a swinger party – and finding both of the really kinky people? Yeah, it made me realize I needed a different direction.  My compliment to G was a good kinky man.


In a really amazing kinky way.

Oh, and I had wished I could afford that piece of furniture.  As Erika comments, it takes a standard position and makes it fucking better..  I found that the same night as that party.

Oh yeah – that was a good night.

Thank you opposite-of-PTSD!

What do you think?

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