I read a blog post recently (don't ask me where) where a guy talked about his stamina and recuperative powers as a young man. This brought back some memories for me. Distant hazy memories.
The most times I've ever climaxed in one day is five, one hormone-drenched day when I was in high school. (Oh, and before you think to yourself, "What a lucky girl" - there was no girl involved. Sadly, this was all a solo effort.)
I was at home sick for the day - but I couldn't have been too sick, because I had plenty of energy, and I was just *aching* with sexual desire and frustration. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, but she told me she had some errands to run, and was I sure I'd be okay at home by myself? I was sure.
The moment I heard the front door shut, I was at my dad's bookcase, looking in the stack of papers where he sometimes kept some Penthouse magazines. Yes, jackpot! There were a few I hadn't seen before, and I devoured them with horny teenage-boy eagerness. I got off twice in the first hour with the images of those nubile young bodies in front of me. I kept reading the stories and ogling the pictures, and my body just wouldn't stop - I got myself off once more in the afternoon, and then again in the evening in the shower.
As I got ready for bed, I remember being amazed at what I had done. Four times in a day was unprecedented, even by my perpetually horny standards. But now it was bedtime, and my bedtime ritual in those days *always* included masturbating. Would I forego that just because I'd already climaxed four times that day? I think you know the answer - of course I went for it again. Then I feel asleep, completely drained.
Even at that moment, I knew I was at a high-water mark that would likely never be eclipsed. And I really did feel like I had accomplished some physical feat, like climbing a mountain or running a marathon. Five times. And it was fairly effortless.
Ah to be...sixteen(?) again.... :-)