I had always been flexible. Ever since I was young, my body had a natural bend that others envied. Gymnastics, yoga, even casual stretching—this is the story how I managed to suck my own clit to orgasm while a friend watched me do so
It started as a fleeting thought, a playful curiosity. Could I reach myself? Could I feel what no one else ever had the privilege of touching? The idea was intoxicating, and once it took root in my mind, I knew I had to try.
But as the days went on, the fantasy grew. It wasn’t just about tasting myself anymore—it was about being seen. The idea of exposing this raw, intimate act to someone who would appreciate it, who would watch me stretch my body to its absolute limit, only fueled my arousal.
So, I made a plan. I would perfect the art of self-worship, and when the time was right, I would invite someone to witness my ultimate triumph.
Day One – The Fantasy Awakens
Lying on my bed, I stretched my legs upward, rolling my hips forward, trying to curl into myself. My fingers had no trouble reaching between my thighs, but my lips… they were still too far. I felt the strain in my spine, the burn in my hamstrings, and the tease of possibility just out of reach.
The frustration only made me hotter. The idea alone was enough to make my clit throb. I imagined how it would feel—my mouth on myself, sucking, licking, drowning in my own pleasure.
With a soft moan, I slid my fingers down, gathering the wetness that had already begun pooling between my thighs. Slowly, I circled my clit, teasing myself, playing with the fantasy until my hips began to rock against my own touch.
I closed my eyes and pictured it—the way my tongue would flick over the swollen bud, how I’d moan against my own skin, how wet I would be.
The thought alone sent me over the edge. My orgasm built fast, sharp, and when it hit, I gasped, my body trembling, legs tightening as pleasure rushed through me.
I hadn’t reached my goal yet, but I knew one thing for sure—I had to keep trying.
Day Two – The First Stretch
I dedicated the next day to stretching—deep, slow yoga poses that loosened every fiber of my body. Butterfly pose, downward dog, backbends that made my spine hum with anticipation.
That night, I lay back once again, pressing my thighs apart, arching as I tested my limits. I felt my breath warm against my inner thigh, my tongue flicking out, but still… not close enough.
So I reached for a toy. It was cool against my fingers as I ran it along my wet folds, coating it before pushing it inside. Slowly, I pressed it deeper, feeling my body yield, stretching me in a different way.
With my body filled and my arousal heightened, I tried again. This time, I got closer.
Day Three – The Tease of Progress
I could feel it now—the teasing ghost of my own lips hovering so close. My tongue flicked out, desperate, hungry, but I was still just short. My hips ached, my back cried for relief, but the pleasure of trying was intoxicating.
The toy inside me made every movement more intense. Each shift, each clench sent ripples of pleasure through me, making my clit throb with need.
I ran my fingers over myself as I curled forward, sucking them into my mouth, tasting my arousal. I imagined what it would be like when I finally reached my goal. My frustration only made me more determined.
Day Four – The Taste of Victory
I spent the whole day preparing, stretching, working my muscles until they obeyed every demand. My body had never felt so ready.
That night, I laid on my back, exhaled slowly, and bent forward, pressing myself tighter than ever before.
And then—there it was. The softest, fleeting brush of my tongue against the top of my clit.
A shock of pleasure ran through me, so sharp and unexpected that I gasped. My tongue darted out again, tasting my own wetness, my body trembling with effort and anticipation.
The toy inside me heightened everything. Every movement of my hips made it press deeper, sending waves of pleasure through my core.
I moaned, the sound vibrating against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I sucked softly at first, teasing myself, feeling the warmth of my own mouth. Then I flicked my tongue, circled, sucked harder.
The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt—an electric storm of self-pleasure, raw and unfiltered.
And yet… I wanted more.
Day Five – The Perfected Art
Tonight, I wouldn’t be alone.
I had told him about my journey, about what I was trying to accomplish, and when I asked if he wanted to watch, his answer had been immediate: yes.
So here I was, lying on my bed, naked, legs spread, my body already throbbing with anticipation as he sat in the chair across from me, his eyes devouring every inch of my skin.
“You’re really going to do it?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.
I smirked. “Watch me.”
Then I moved, bending forward, curling my spine, pushing myself to the very limit I had spent days reaching. My lips hovered over my own clit, my breath warm against my skin, teasing myself before my tongue finally met its mark.
The taste of my arousal sent a bolt of pleasure through me. I sucked gently at first, then harder, my moans vibrating against my own skin.
“That is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned.
His words only fueled me. I pumped the toy in and out, feeling the stretch, the fullness, the sheer decadence of the moment.
He unzipped his pants, his cock hard and ready as he stroked himself, watching me with a hunger that made me feel even more powerful.
“Keep going,” he murmured. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I sucked myself harder, flicking my tongue, rolling my hips, working the toy deeper, stretching every nerve in my body to its breaking point.
I heard him groan, felt his presence looming closer, and then, just as I hit the peak, just as my body began to shatter around itself, he moaned my name, his pleasure spilling over my stomach and thighs as I screamed through my own climax.
The orgasm was all-consuming, waves of ecstasy rolling through me, leaving me breathless, shaking, utterly spent.
As I lay there, skin flushed, body aching in the best way possible, he leaned down, tracing a finger through his mess on my skin.
“You really are the filthiest, most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured.
And I had never felt more powerful.
