Giggety Goo

At first, Shelly was skeptical about the idea of a seven-minute workout. “The quickie,” as she called it, promised something akin to the fountain of youth to the modern-day, aspiring fitness buff. Shelly believed a truly sculpted body needed an hour or two a day, at least, and she didn’t think she could get that from a workout that took longer to dress up for than to do.

But when a friend shared an article with app recommendations she could run on her smart TV, she decided to give it a try. Six days in, Shelly swore it was easier to squeeze her round butt into her yoga pants. She felt youthful, had more options in her wardrobe, and flirted more.

Still, even a quickie workout wasn’t easy on a Monday evening. The house was quiet — the kids were at the ex’s — and Shelly planned to curl up with some HGTV and cheese puffs when an intriguing message popped up on her TV. The notification from the Seven-minute Sweat app promised a “revolutionary new update” with an intriguing warning about new content and images not appropriate for anyone under 18. Shelly clicked through the licensing agreement and waited for the app to launch, twirling her hair in anticipation.

The cute instructor with abs of steel and an ass to boot didn’t speak in the previous app, but she opened up with a monologue in the updated version.

Thanks for updating Seven-minute Sweat. We are committed to enhancing women’s health and today we are taking a radical new approach to how we define well-being.

To begin this regimen, you’re going to need the following accessories: a waterproof mattress cover, kegel exercise balls, lubricant, and one of those “massagers” husbands buy their wives to get out of those “pesky” back rubs.

The instructor liked her air quotes.

Hit play when you’ve found all these items or “safe” substitutes.

Shelly rounded up the closest things she could find, and came back to the living room with a shaggy towel, a pack of the ex’s unopened golf balls, Vaseline, and an obscenely large cordless massager — truth be told, she also snuck a small bowl of cheese puffs. Her hair was pulled back and she was ready to go with her yoga shorts and a sports bra bursting at the seams with her boobs.

OK, ladies, I think I have a workout you’ll like better than the old one. Do you want to squirt with me?

Shelly sat forward with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

We join millions of women in affirming squirting as a positive, hygienic, fulfilling, and “explosive” contributor to a woman’s pleasure and sexual health. I’d be lying if I told you this will happen in seven minutes. You’re going to have to work hard and you still might never squirt. Maybe not today, maybe not ever. But don’t you think you owe it to yourself to try?

Shelly nodded in affirmation.

If you go through this whole workout and apply these techniques there’s a possibility your vagina will be dripping — I mean, really gushing — by the time we’re done. Are you ready?

“Mmmmmmmmm,” said Shelly, licking every last flake of cheese from her fingers.

The instructor launched into her first routine.

Squirting begins with squatting.

Instead of raising her arms as she squatted down, the instructor rubbed herself slowly during a 30-second “warmup.” Shelly stripped down to the thinner fabric of her thong and mirrored the routine.

If you really want to push yourself, insert your kegel balls and repeat this exercise. I’ve had mine in all day and I can’t wait to pull these suckers out. The balls within balls effect creates tingling sensations that contract your vagina muscles and bring on greater blood flow. This is essential prep work for ejaculating.

Shelly grabbed the golf balls and rubbed them in the Vaseline until they were lubed down to the dimples. She giggled, feeling like a little pervert, when she pulled her underwear aside and crammed the slippery balls up inside her. After repeating the squatting warmup three or four times, Shelly was starting to feel like she was building some real vaginal tone.

The app took Shelly through several more exercises focused on the pubococcygeus or PB muscle, including glute bridges, clamshells, and cat back stretches. Sweaty and exhausted, Shelly was relieved when the instructor announced a break.

If you’re going to squirt, you need to have confidence that you’re not just peeing. Hashtag, “it’s not pee.”

Rolling her eyes, the instructor introduced a new segment, “This is peeing.” The instructor was on the toilet with her face buried in a Tristan Taormino book on female ejaculation dubbed over with some cheesy sound effects of peeing.

“Oh my,” said Shelly. “Seriously?”

The next segment, “This is squirting,” introduced a new actor — maybe from a porno movie — who squatted down and used her fingers to induce a magical gush until the cement floor below her was shimmering.

“Holy shit,” said Shelly.

That was real. Squirting is real. But if you’re going to be a doubting Thomas, it’s time for you to take a bathroom break. You can’t pee on an empty bladder, but you CAN squirt.

Please use this opportunity to continue your kegel exercises by starting and stopping yourself from peeing.

Shelly went to the bathroom and pushed out the golf balls, which bounced haphazardly around the bathroom floor. She did toilet exercises long enough to order Taormino’s book on squirting from her smart phone.

Now for the really fun part. Time to fire up that vibrator.

The camera panned out to show the instructor naked and leaning back on a workout bench. A big-headed vibrator concealed her private parts.

Take as long as you need for this one. We’ve assembled some images to help you along. When you feel like something is happening, move to the next session. Shelly cozied up on the couch with a ridiculously sized cordless massager that just about required two hands. The massager started with a whizzing sound that became a dull roar.

The next session started with beautiful pictures of nature — erotic looking flowers and such —but soon Shelly was drowning in pictures and videos of women kissing, men having sex, threesomes, and women squirting. What really got her going were images of beautiful naked people pleasuring themselves around the camera, as if they were watching her.

Shelly felt like she was far enough along to click ahead. The instructor now had the vibrating wand going full blast over her clit. She was struggling to maintain an authoritative voice as she was losing her breath.

OK, we’re almost there, girls. Time for the mattress pad.

Shelly threw off her thong and sports bra but was too close to coming to be bothered with the towel. Her hair was a frizzy mess and she was slicked up with sweat and Vaseline. She rubbed her nipples while keeping the top-heavy massager from slipping off her clit. Her breath was deep and heavy.

Some woman have an easier time coming when they do a “come hither” movement over their G-spot. Me personally, I just like to try to pinch my clit between my G-spot and my wand as I tighten and relax my PB muscle as intensely as possible.

If you feel like you’re going to pee you’re on the right track. Remember, you just emptied your bladder.

The instructor looked like she was about to blow. She pulled down on the string attached to the kegels and a splash of liquid came out.

OK, girls. Relax, girls. Now push! Push! Push it!

Shelly wanted to come with the instructor. She could feel something stirring on her insides. She continued to exercise her pussy muscles and felt some liquid trickle out of her on a particularly tight squeeze. She jammed her sweaty back into the corner of the couch, intensifying her movements with every ounce of energy she had left and swallowing up the vibrator in between her legs.

You can do it, girls. Push, push, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuhhhhhh, fuhhhhh, fuhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The movie slowed down to show the instructor gushing from multiple angles.

“Ohh, fuck,” Shelly said, slipping into her native horny tongue.

She clenched her PC muscles and pushed out, reaching down to feel her fat lips, which puffed out like they were ready to pop. With a mixture of shock and awe, she felt herself melt from the inside out as her orgasm was peaking. She clenched and pushed out again, angling her pussy upwards as her juices shot out in a flat, physics-defying arc that came down on the faux suede with the sound of a torrent from a rain cloud. A second wave came out just as strong but hit one of the vibrator heads on the way out and splattered over the couch like buckshot from a sawn-off shotgun. The gushing continued but Shelly could only see the couch microfiber darken beneath her and feel the pleasure puddling below.

“Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh god!” she whined.

She slammed back into the arm of the couch in a quivering state. Every part of her body was tingling and untouchable as she felt herself dissolving.

She awoke sometime later, still shivering but from a damp coldness. She grabbed the remote and a blanket and moved to the dry couch. The TV was caught showing the instructor on an endless loop of crunches.

Her explosion hadn’t put out the fire. She masturbated while watching a rerun of This Old House.