TMI: You

1. Tell us about you in 10 words or less.
Impulsive, playful, over-analytical, loving, reader, supportive, impatient, high sex drive

2. What radio stations do you have programmed and regularly listen to (format, genre)?
Rock, Alternative, Hit List, Country

3. What color are your eyes today?
Brown and bored

4. Did you shave today?
Yes, even my legs!

5. What’s your personality?
I am rarely content to be still, whether it's planned or unplanned, I am happiest doing something and exploring. I can be argumentative, but I am still a good listener and communicator. I very frequently get my own way

6. Tell us two things that most people mention they like about you.
Open minded and friendly

7. Name one thing that you really like about yourself.
My reading ability

Bonus: How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
Physically 30; Mentally either 24 or 70 - rarely anything in between 

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Summer Motivation

M here.

Sorry postings have been slimmer, though I'll explain an amazing time to be had. A, being the playful, little single she is, isn't the most consistent at blogging, though brilliant about articulating her adventures.

As for me, summer is a time of travel, as the kids have off. It is also a time where my husband and I are most assuredly separated, whether by moving, deployments, or I leave him to visit family, etc..It just seems to work that way.

So I don't have a lot of sexy inspiration during the summer, being busy and focused on the kids and their agendas more. Doesn't leave a lot of time for sex (but my masturbation time increases). Kids just have a way of sucking all the sexiness out of life.

On the bright side of all this, while playing a game together with a group of friends, my husband and I bet that I couldn't hold out 11 minutes and 18 seconds until I orgasmed (it would have been the third time). I really didn't think I would win it, but I did! Our friends were kind enough to listen to me orgasm on Skype, and helped keep track of time. My prize: an hour of being tied up.

The next day over the phone he went into delicious detail about painting a picture of what to expect: wrists tied with an immediate orgasm by fingers to keep me extra sensitive, then by oral sex, and again possibly by vibrator. Then ankles tied with knife, wax, cold glass, ice cubes, vibrator...um, I may be forgetting a few other implements. Edging, he promised/threatened five times, before allowing me to be pleased by the sixth. I believe my ankles would also be tied by my wrists by this point. Next tied position, laying on my stomach. Gosh, I believe a spreader and a plug and paddle by this point...anyhow, I have to patiently wait at least another month to have this become a reality, and I am not a patient person.

And while I was listening to the deep, sensual pitch of his voice, almost hypnotic, I couldn't help brushing my fingertips over my puckered nipples, around the soft globe of my breasts, down the curves of my waist and hips, and up my inner thighs. His words went into such great detail on where he would move, what he would do, how he would smile even (though I wouldn't be able to see through the blindfold), that I tightened with expectation. My fingertips grazed my clit, and stayed there for a few minutes, teasing my body in tone with his words, before sliding into my slick folds. I was slowly rubbing, tingling pleasantly with the soft strokes in and out, but when he began talking about edging and finally allowing me to cum, my fingers tensed up and curled and I came.

Hmm, this may be why the details of being flipped over are hazier than the rest. I heard every word, extended my pleasure to the rhythm of his story, but yet...memory with pleasure just isn't strong.

Anyhow, inspiration promises to come in spades. We are going to experiment and play to a teasing level that we haven't yet, and I'm curious how my sensitive body will handle it all.

And while I have to patiently wait for this, hopefully smaller inspirations will be granted. Until then, apologies for the sparse posts. A and I will continue on in the tempo we are motivated to.

-M

TMI: Sex Ed

Sex Talk & Sex Ed

Source: http://sex-in-words.blogspot.com

June is Adult Sex Ed Month (twitter: #AdultSexEdMonth). The movement was started by blogger @GoodDirtyWoman on twitter. Please read more here: http://agoodwomansdirtymind.com/june-is-adultsexedmonth/
This week’s TMI Tuesday questions were inspired by Sex-Ed writer Jon Pressick and his #dailysexdiscussion that happens on twitter.
1. Have you ever investigated having an open relationship?
- Have you tried to have an open relationship?
I've not investigated having an open relationship, but I have been in several. They have worked wonderfully well for me.

2. Do you have any sexual phobias?
- What have you done to manage or overcome them?
I did not until a few years when I squirted for the first time, and he sniffed it, thinking I pissed the bed. That gave me a fear that I did, or would. And a resentment towards this man. I don't like squirting for that reason, but my lover can make me do it effortlessly regardless. It would be helpful if I knew if he even liked this aspect, as I have to assume he does considering he makes me do it quite frequently. However, even though I've asked, he's been vague. I don't like squirting: I don't see it as sexy, it does give me my first and only sexual concern, and it's very messy wet. I have done nothing to overcome this issue, besides issuing a no-sniffing rule.

3. What is the best new sexual activity you have tried in 2013?
Spanking, or wax. I like them both, but I'm trying to figure out to what varying degrees. I don't always like them, so it's still a learning curve for me.

4. Have you ever called into a sex advice radio/television show or written to a sex advice columnist?
- Was it helpful?
No, I haven't, so I've no idea if it's helpful.

5. Would you use the services of a sex therapist? Why or why not?
Yes, I have seen a sex addiction therapist, who informed me that I am a nympho, not an addict. I was told that I was an addict by another therapist, but the specialist laughed at that. I will not sleep with anyone, I don't endanger my job or family or finances for it, and I am selective with who I sleep with. Just because I always think about sex and enjoy it does not mean that I have to have it, despite the cost. It was comforting, especially considering the first therapist made me feel ashamed of my thoughts.

6. Should sex therapists be allowed to engage in actual sexual activities with clients? Why or why not?
I have no idea, and I would not want to cast an overall judgment on an individualized case.

I highly recommend watching the movie “The Sessions” based on a true story of how a sex therapist helped a disabled man live a full, rich life that included sex. Movie trailer: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1866249/

Bonus:  Have you read any adult sex ed books lately? What do you recommend?
I have not on sex ed., unless we're counting Mating in Captivity by Perel. I am drafting several reviews and my own reflections on that book which deals with erotic intelligence and keeping desire in long term relationships.  
I am currently reading Story of O, which was considered a break through piece of literature on BDSM in the 1950s. It is not on education. I'm a third of the way into it, and should have it finished in a day, considering I started it late last night. Thus far, it is not as psychologically delving as I would hope. For a true mind darkening exploration experience on BDSM, I'd recommend (Anne Rice wrote it under a pseudonym) The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty series.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

TMI Travel

This week, TMI Tuesday is looking at sex on vacation.
I just got back from a lovely trip, and have quite a few more planned for the summer, so this is pretty perfect timing.

1. Do you have more sex or less when on vacation?
More, as long as the kids aren't there. Then less if they are. This last trip I pushed him for five sessions in the evening because, well, I could. We wouldn't do much sight seeing if I had it my way when we travel childless.

2. Do you plan a vacation so that you will have an opportunity to have
sex?
No, we have opportunity. I don't mind planning long car drives because of road head. I pleased him twice whenever the drive became a little boring this weekend. Sadly, he wouldn't agree to parking, but I did masturbate for him so he could watch for stolen seconds while driving.

3. Have you ever planned a vacation in order to meet someone for sex?
Yes, this used to be quite frequent.

4. Have you ever gone on a singles’ cruise or some other
hookup-facilitating vacation?
I actually was on a cruise ship with 90% of the people being swingers. Great people to party with, but I wasn't technically with them, so I've never planned a vacation with that intent.

5. Have you had sex on a means of transportation other than a car: bus, train,
airplane, cruise ship?
Cruise ship. I don't think I'd want to anywhere else, but who knows

6. Have you had outdoor sex on camping, hiking, skiing, boating
vacation?
Yes, camping. And he was so paranoid about me making any noise, or us being seen. Not hiking, but I hike all the time, so that's a shame - more his decision than mine.

Bonus: Do you pack sex toys, lubes (3.4 oz bottles or less), etc when you fly? Do you think about TSA finding them? Has TSA ever found them and questioned you about your sexual aids or displayed them? Tell us about it.
No, I am worried about this. When we moved across country recently, I shipped my favorite vibrating toy over before flying so that I would have it, but not worry about TSA finding it.

Expectations

When I was younger, I slept with a (1) man for a few months. Unbeknownst to me, several months after we broke up, I hooked up with a (2) friend he had. While that relationship was no more than one of sex, we did have sex quite often, and I met some of their other friends, another (3) of which I hooked up with just once.

So when the three of them expected me to start sleeping with a fourth friend of theirs, I was mortified. Just because I ended up sleeping with three friends does not mean that I was going to passed around to their crew of friends. Just because I liked sex, and had it when I wanted it, doesn't mean that I would sleep with everyone who crossed my path, that I "ought" to sleep with men who offered me sex, especially if it was someone I knew. I was promiscuous with casual sex and having a good time, but not indiscriminately - I chose who I was attracted to, who I was going to have sex with, and if I even wanted another partner.

The friend was equally mad at me, and felt a sense of entitlement, like it was "his turn". They even went so far to show up at my house, these four guys, and try to sell/persuade me this the fourth guy. I was shocked, embarrassed, hurt, unsure of how to respond. It was one of those freezing up moments,
when time crawls so slowly, when you desperately want to hit fast forward and see it end.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep with that fourth guy, and the other three fast became a (painful) memory. I wanted nothing to do with them after that.

They had labeled me in their minds and to their friends, and they felt that I ought to stay within the boundaries and expectations of that label. It felt shameful that they labeled me at the time, though I hardly recognized that was the emotion. And I allowed that overruling emotion to define me, and I rebelled, and I shut off my own sexuality for a year. A YEAR, without intercourse, without finding a companion to share my desires and sexually fantasies with.

I can look back on that year and say I was proud of my self-control, except it wasn't my control that regulated it - it was the control that I gave those four guys. It was the control that I gave to society's definition that I was a slut, promiscuous with the negative connotations, an oversexualized female.

And I can even point the finger at myself that I had done the same negative judgments, criticizing my virgin friends for not experiencing sex, assuming they were scared, unable to find someone, or...or... the list goes on.

What I should have done is realized that they have a choice and they CHOOSE when to intimate, and with whom. The same choice that I had, that I wanted other people to respect. It wasn't until the judgment was cast at me that I realized that I was guilty of the same type of behavior.

For Pity's Sake, No

I cried when he told me "no" after I proposed sex. It was a silly, immediate reaction that I tried unsuccessfully to hide. But the feeling of rejection was fierce.

Being aware that the no wasn't a rejection of me, but to the action at that specific moment, didn't help. It didn't help that we had sex four times already that day. I was unsure of the origin of the sudden tears, as surprised at their arrival as he was. Normally, this wouldn't bring me to tears. Hormones, melancholy that day? Regardless of the cause, there they were: fat, rounded, salty drops rolling their way down my cheeks.

I tried to hide the reaction, but he saw.

"Look at me," he ordered, but I shook my head and tried to duck into his armpit. He grabbed my chin and moved my face towards him. "Why're you crying?"

"I...I...d-don't know," I sobbed out miserably, ashamed at such a reaction that I was helpless to control.

"Let's have sex," he stated, matter-of-factly, kissing my wet cheeks softly.

"N-n-no, you don't want to, it would be pity sex. And I don't want to anymore."

He laughed, wiping my eyes. "Liar." He kissed me softly on the lips, his tongue briefly darted out to feel my quivering lips. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you want, I find myself wanting to have sex with you." He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me off of the couch where we were snuggling, but I stubbornly slipped my hand away from his.

He sat down next to me, and looked at me for a long moment. My tears were slowing, but I was embarrassed and rolled over, my back to him. His hand rubbed my back for a minute, then moved to my waistband of my pajama pants and pulled down. "What are you doing?" I protested, but weakly. I wanted to feel better, and we both knew that sex would make me feel better.

"Taking what I want," he said, right before his mouth breathed on my hip. His hand gently rotated me onto my stomach, and then parted one thigh from another. A finger gently touched my clit, then slowly stroked my labia. His finger slipped inside ever so slightly. I held my breath, until I felt his against the pink tenderness of my sex. His tongue traced around my entrance before slipping inside of me; he sucked gently at my lips as his tongue darted in. He began to move his tongue steadily, increasing the pace and pressure. My core tightened as I tensed, my hips began to move almost of their own accord. "Get on your knees," he told me, not quite taking his mouth away. I slowly moved to my knees, his mouth still sloppily kissing around my swollen sex. He slid his fingers in, first one then two, out and then deeper, probing for my g-spot. He kept pressure there as he moved, and I felt my myself squeezing tighter around his fingers, my body taut, my mind emptying itself of all thoughts save the feelings he was creating. Right before I orgasmed, he moved his fingers and again used his tongue to bring me the rest of the way.

I screamed, I pushed myself into his mouth as if he could devour me whole, as it felt as if I was utterly his. He kneeled behind my shaking thighs, pulled down his pants to his knees, and his cock nudged at my opening. Still swollen and responsive, I moaned as I leaned back into him, pressing hardness into my depth. "Oh god," I breathed, as I moved forward slightly, and then back again, trying for another orgasm, astounded at how ready I was.

"Slow down," he grabbed my hips, and began setting the pace. I began making soft noises that increased volume when he increased pace, and found myself alternating between holding and struggling for breath. Teetering on the edge of another orgasm, he began to slam his cock fully into me and my screams mixed with his moan. I collapsed with the force of my orgasm, my legs no longer wanted to support me. He rolled me onto my side, settled himself into the couch, and my body into his arms. He held my gaze, tried to gauge my mood, and suddenly I remembered how I cried, how absurd I was. As if reading my thoughts, he reaffirmed, "that wasn't pity sex, it was amazing and that's how we're going to remember it."

I nodded, and smiled. "It was amazing," I concurred. "And I'm sorry at how I reacted. It was silly."

To this date, I haven't reacted with tears when turned down for sex. I have, however, jumped up and stomped my foot impulsively, which received me a laugh and teasing: "is that a tantrum?" Where the hell had that reaction come from?

Orgasm Count - Week Two

Seen our # Orgasm Count on twitter? JohnDStories created the website, wonderfully keeps the scoreboard up-to-date, and made the most hilarious rule page based on our twitter-ings, not to mention sadly only one orgasm per session allowed.
Truly, I am just curious. So, how many orgasms do I really have...?

Week Two:
Competition: 13                                                      Reality: 36

Interference: I have seen my husband perhaps twice this week - not two days, but twice as he passed out in bed right after waking me for sex, so there goes many opportunities for orgasms. After we were all sick last week, I also had kids' practices to make up (so double driving around), a house in disarray, and a ton of other domestic stuff to make up for. This did not lend itself to really any masturbation time, as I fell into bed pretty much exhausted every night.

This is just a very honest posting of a challenged wife and mother. And as drab as this week has been, there's also no interesting stories to share towards this count.

Multiples Count Here...

Twitter found my sister and I engaged in a humorous competition.  Heard of the Orgasm Count? Probably if you follow us on twitter. My sister, when I announced I had 25 orgasms in one day alone, decided that multiples shouldn't count, check with the contestants, and they agreed. JohnDStories created the most hilarious rule page based on our twitter-ings, not to mention sadly only one orgasm per session allowed.
Truly, I am just curious. I've never kept track of my orgasms. I am married with someone who knows every button to press, and tries to fulfill every fantasy I have. So orgasms are not elusive in the slightest to my body. Still, how many do I really have...?

Week One:
Competition Count:     10                                                     Multiple Reality: 30

Interestingly enough, on day one almost set the alarm at midnight to get started. Husband decided to set it for early morning. We thought we were done with three sessions, but once I saw two other bloggers hit three, I pushed him for one more. I did, however, patiently wait until he was done vacuuming.
I panicked that we needed to get ahead on a Sunday, because once the work week started, and kids returned, we were going to drastically slow down.
Day four only reflects our typical average of 2.

Running Interference: day two (and three), my husband woke up and fingered me to orgasm, but said he wasn't feeling well enough for sex (but he stated that after a blow job). As soon as he stood up, he had to rush to the bathroom. Either stomach flu or food poisoning - not sexy. He was incredibly ill all day, not even going into work (a situation I've never seen).
I went to work, and returned with a fever.
Next day we both too exhausted, and he still wasn't feeling well. End result: I went from being tied in the lead to under 12 orgasms :(
Day five and six immediately following work, my son starts vomiting, with a fever following. It was a long night, and I called into work the next day.

Story of the week: Going with the apparent conflicting theme of the week:

It's late when my husband gets home, as always. I had just started brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed. "What are you doing up so late?" he questions, surprised.

"I just now put our son to bed," I reply heading for the bed where he follows me. I slip on a tshirt of his, the length hitting just above my knees; I sleep naked almost exclusively. "Please sleep with boxers on in case our son needs us in the middle of the night." He also sleeps naked.

It is a statement to how sick our son is just as clear as if I had gone into detail about it. "Okay," he agrees. "I'll keep our door cracked then too, because he can't open it." This new place, the door to our room doesn't fit the frame well; luckily it's a tight fit, but it is a pain to open and close.

Ah, the unspoken language of parents: we're wearing clothes to sleep in, the door will be cracked, literal translation, "we aren't having any sex tonight."

He kisses me on my forehead and pulls the covers up over me, tucking me primly. "I love you. I'm going to get something to eat," (I had not brought him dinner, unable to travel with a sick kid) "I'm starving. I'll probably play some games too."

Sure, why not? It's not like we were having sex, and I was exhausted and really not caring what he did, just grateful that he was home. "Please check on him before you come to bed, and make sure he's okay," I requested, and he nodded, then left me.

I slept that night fitfully and awoken three different times. The punctuations of awakening made me recall the different dreams I had.

In one, I was having sex with a creature - not human - but having human physical characteristics. The details have mostly escaped me already.

In the second dream, I was having sex with multiple vampires. Again, and especially because of my boy's little voice waking me, the details are hazy. I had to put my son on the couch, and set him up with cartoons; he couldn't sleep anymore, and he had a high fever. Once he was settled, and I felt comfortable, I went back to bed, snuggling for warmth against my husband's sleeping form.

The third dream I awoken from I could lay in bed and think back. Most of the sex bloggers were there, and we lived on this new island in space. Marie Rebelle had the largest house, and most of us around her were very poor, and barely able to scrape by. But she was gracious, and giving, and often we would gather at her house for parties or just to socialize. For some reason, my lover went missing, and was assumed dead after awhile. I was taken and raped repeatedly by several men. Finally, I threw myself upon a man who was sweet, and I could manipulate because he wasn't very smart. I convinced him to marry me, and I toiled at our land just as hard and for as many hours as he did. He occasionally wanted sex as part of the bargain, and while I didn't want to have sex with him, I did agree from time to time more as a sense of obligation.
*This dream is clearly influenced by a book that I had just read, recommended from a fellow blogger.

Such a juxtaposition of desire and family responsibility that night. I often will remember erotic dreams - my husband swears I have them every night, as every time he touches me after I've been sleeping, I am wet. But the creature and vampire sex is a new one. Dreaming about bloggers is probably because this community is such a big part of my life already. As for Rebel, well, she's far and away leading this competition, definitely in the "biggest house" as it were.

The absence of

Sex. My muse, my will, my motivation.

He was gone and there was nothing I could do. I'd never have him, I don't know that he was ever mine to begin with. At the same time as this rent in my heart was split wide I finally bit the bullet and admitted I was in a funk I couldn't get out of. Cue Lexapro.

It was wonderful to be at a continual even keel. Truly. My friends and family all remarked on how calm I seemed, less harried, able to slow down and enjoy and not stress over everything all the time.

Suddenly though, my motto of "An orgasm a day" was forgotten. I didn't even think about sex.

Uh, I'm a sex blogger, I read beautiful, stirring, erotic things all day from others in the community and that's not even mentioning the images. I love sex, it's a integral part of my day. Suddenly though, the desire had flown swiftly from me.

I couldn't give you an honest evaluation of what percentage each event had in the disappearance of my libido. The most heart-achingly painful thing to see in me though was the drying up of the wellspring of creativity. I knew losing my lover had a great deal to do with that, but a lot of my writing came from being simply turned on... I was suddenly rendered in a perpetual state of OFF.
Something had to be done. Boundaries explored, a solution to be had. Masturbation suddenly took 30 minutes, a previously unheard of length of time, and I might as well forget involving a partner, I couldn't even get wet. It wasn't like other medications, where I might as well have been Barbie for all of the sensation created in my erogenous zone, this was more like a dull echo. I felt it, I could vaguely tell it was pleasant, but eh... I could be playing Minecraft.

I approached my Dr about my concerns. After all, a woman at her peak doesn't go from positively exuding sex to being a diminished light overnight. Creams were prescribed to increase sensation, and assurances of normalcy issued. The problem is, even with the possibility of sensation being increased, I didn't have the desire. In fact, when the compound wasn't ready when it was supposed to be at the pharmacy I merely shrugged my shoulders and didn't go back. Lack of desire.

So, I flirt and I flit, and try to go through the motions. I try falling back in love with me and focus what creativity I have on pictures, on revealing myself to myself. My sister carries the brunt of the force of our blog and due to luck and a previously raging muse, I have pieces in draft from back when I was that goddess of smoldering sexuality. The things I do produce are lackluster, I can see the drop in interest...

Sometimes the dam breaks. Sometimes the tears fall, the indifference is lifted, and sometimes I feel the spark. There are so many beautiful and provocative people in my blogesphere, it's impossible not to be moved. I get wet at the thought of someone's hands caressing me, the sight of someone's body captured in ecstasy. A flirt and banter exchange with someone will move me to get naked, grab my camera and be the embodiment of sex I so recently was and always had been. I owe so many thanks to so many people who have unwittingly jump started my drive.

It is a heavy weight in my heart, the decision of continuing on a medication that I see making improvements in my somewhat crumpled world right now, or gaining back my passion, my zeal, and my lust for life and all the sexy things in it...

I'm still not entirely sure what path to take, but right now I feel as though I'm in a holding pattern, in the absence of... anything.

Pondering Positions

My lover broke his wrist over the weekend. Of course my concern was for him, but selfishly it went to our sex life. He broke his dominant side, but he's pretty handy at touching and fingering me with both. I was more concerned with what positions we were still going to do, and if he'd even be in the mood.

Oddly enough, he's demanding it every night (of course it's only been less than a week). It's almost like he has to prove he still can have sex with me (I shared my concern).

And as for the positions, we can't do missionary (or some form of). While I can rock his world on top, I can't do much for myself. Sadly, when I am on top I rely on him to grab my hips and move me once I come close to climax - when it starts to feel good I simply lose the rhythm and cannot finish without him keeping the pace I've set. A lot of other positions require him bracing himself on either forearms or hands.

The solution? Doggy style is definitely a winner, but we've also spooned, and he's been on his knees upright with me sideways as well. I love these positions, and glad we have more reason to use them. I am quite sure we'll continue experimenting and finding others that work just as well, and maybe discover some new positions we've never done or thought of before. Can't wait! Any suggestions? He cannot apply pressure on one arm at all at this point, keep in mind.

TMI Tuesday: Titles

1. Describe your or a lover’s penis with a movie title.
Deep Impact, Big Daddy
I couldn't choose just one. The only thing about the second title is that "daddy" is never a term that I can think in. But when I think of him, I think of the size. Seriously, the first time I saw him, I was concerned, and intimadated. Now I love the feeling of fulfillment, and will tell him when he needs to take it easy, start slower, or not as deep.  To avoid hurting me, we have a rule that both of us can't be drunk, or we can only have sex in a certain position if we're both drinking (which never happens, but it's a good plan).

2. Describe your pussy or a lover’s pussy with a movie title.
 Little Box of Sweets
Well, it's hard to not think of myself and think of the adjective "little" considering that I am overall small.  And I taste delicious.

3. Describe your last sexual encounter with a song title.
"I've Been Loving You Too Long" Otis Redding
I kept begging him to cum, but it was a night where that just wasn't happening. Meanwhile, I delighted in so many orgasms that it became surreal-and exhausting. There were moments when I forgot to breathe and he had to remind me. It was ridiculous, and amazing.

4. Describe your body with a song title.
"Flesh for Fantasy" Billy Idol
My lover's favorite part is my hourglass figure, but I don't know of a title that contains that word (just googled it, there are several). But even as much as I appreciate my curves, I love my entire body - it allows me to feel glorious things. My skin can get so sensitive after orgasm (like last night), and I relish in touch and sensations.

5. Describe your sexual appetite with a book, song, or movie title.
"Always on my Mind" Pet Shop Boys
My male friends say that I "think like a man"; clearly they don't read too many blogs or get to know the ladies of this community. I have a fixation with sex, and unless I'm working or totally engaged in another task, I am thinking about sex, and my lover, and all the things we have done or could do.

Bonus: Recommend your favorite sexy, sensual or kink oriented book.
I just finished Just Watch Me and am now reading Dirty Girls: Erotica for Women

TMI Tuesday How to play: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Morale officer

I didn't mean to become their Morale officer... Seriously, it was unintentional.

In military lingo, a "Morale officer" is a woman who has sexual relations with the unit... THE WHOLE UNIT.

Now, it wasn't as bad as all that, however I did sleep my way through their enlisted command structure, just in time for deployment.

It was a complete, sexy, lascivious accident. When Ex and I broke up, we had been together for almost 6 years... OF COURSE I HAD A SLUT FEST! My sex life with Ex was horrible. It rarely happened, there was no foreplay, and we had premature ejaculation problems that we never did work around. That was a glaring deficit in our relationship.

I first met One right after I decided I could no longer be in my relationship. It was a hard choice to make and took a very long time to make it. I was depressed, downtrodden, and completely lost. One night I went out with a girlfriend and we saw a man she knew. He was 6'8 to my 5 ft and exuded sex. There really wasn't a question about where I was going that night. In fact, my friend arranged everything because all I could do was stare and fantasize.  After 6 years, going home with One was like being a teenager again.

One of the things that frustrated me about my previous sex life was that Ex always treated me like I was breakable, when all I wanted was to be manhandled. I could tell instantly, One didn't think I was breakable and if he did then he wanted me to shatter. He tossed me around like a rag doll, made me do what HE wanted, and if I said "ow" he ignored it unless I asked him to stop... I didn't ask him to stop much. The sex was incredible and lasted forever. Round after round of virile foreplay, sex, breath, repeat. I went home with some small bruises and a huge grin. He was just what I needed at the time and helped me reclaim my own sexuality.

After a time I started dating again and I met this great guy Two. We spent a lot of time together having fun, drinking with friends, and acting young. Then I finally took him to bed....That was the end of that relationship. At one point during the sex I wanted to tell him to put his pants back on, and for God's sake stop making that noise! After evaluating my 6 year relationship I decided I would never compromise on sex again.

Two had introduced my best friend Ava to one of his friends, so while I was no longer seeing Two I was seeing his friend regularly with Ava. We'd all go out and different people would join our group. That's how I was introduced me to Staff Sargent (truly, that's all I knew him by). Rawr. The man was a glorious package of wit, rippling muscle, and rock hard desire. He tied me to my bed with my satin ties and worked my body over for hours. When he finally untied me I rode him hard and had orgasm after orgasm. We broke my bed that night. It was casual sex at it's finest and I wouldn't take it back for the world.

Ava and her man got along pretty well so he was a recurring part of our lives for a few months. Their relationship was casual, but ongoing. While his unit was getting ready for deployment the amount of time spent out increased. The ladies of my group had no complaint about joining in the fun. We were all out enjoying the entertainment to be had at one of or local stripclubs when I met The Boot. The term "Boot" is used in a derogatory way by more seasoned veterans about people who have just graduated from boot camp.

The kid was 19, had graduated boot camp the week prior, and was going on a very dangerous deployment, with no experience or time in the unit,  the following week. He also apparently had a huge crush on me. Ava's friend broached the subject with me and I told him that if The Boot wanted to talk to me then he should, you know, talk. I was advised candidly: "go easy on him, he's probably not coming back from this deployment. He's either going to get killed, or get someone else killed."
... Uh.

I had no idea how to respond to that especially after I had this adorable young guy so shyly try to start a conversation and pick up an older, more seasoned woman who would probably eat him alive in bed.
I did the only thing I could do.

I rocked that young Boot's world so hard he couldn't walk straight. I blew him until his knees went out, I asked about his fantasies and immediately went about trying to fulfill as many as I could. You want to bring a vibrator into bed? Go for it! On top  on bottom, in front of the mirror, pull my hair, smack my ass until it's glowing red? Sure thing! He was young, inexperienced, and not the best lay I'd had. If not for their deployment, I probably wouldn't have brought him home. How though, could I have said no? It didn't hurt anyone, and at least this way he was leaving with an incredible night to remember when stuck out there for months.

The day before they were set to deploy Ava and I ran into her man at the club. We also ran into One from months before. They were together...they were in the same unit. Along with Staff Sargent and The Boot and Two....

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. No one knew. And it was only then that even I realized I had slept with FOUR men in the same UNIT. While it may have been over the course of 6 months, during the course of their 6 months deployment the chances were zero that they wouldn't all figure out that I had slept my way down their command structure.

Sure enough, upon their return I found out that everyone knew. I was the units' Morale Officer. Everyone just kind of found it humorous, and in fact a couple of them asked for return visits; I declined. Now whenever some hot military man in this town approaches me, there's a tiny voice in the back of my head praying he's not with this particular unit. When it has happened, I decline developing a relationship. Let me be a legend then, of a deployment, that had a few men a bit more relaxed before they left.

The surf

I go in waves with my sexual desire.

Now, keep in mind I want it at least once a day every day, but sometimes I want it NOW NOW NOW, all day long. I've been the girl that sent the text saying: "I've been up for 3 hours and I've already gotten off 5 times... I love my new vibrator!"

I've also had days where I just don't really feel like anything. It always seems to be a block of days for each though.

I'm curious if everyone is like this?

I do know I binge on sex when I get a new partner. It's like, "you mean I can finally have sex!" I've constantly had to warn partners that they will not be able to keep up with me and that's ok. I'll be disappointed and pout, but just as long as they're willing to at least try, we'll be ok.

For some reason every man sees this as a challenge. Then after a day, maybe two, they admit defeat. Truly, no one CAN keep up. I understand the cause of this wave: it's a new toy, all pretty and shiny, of course I want to play with him. And I do settle down, as long as I get to see him regularly, and have sex on those occasions, I'll settle into 3 times a day instead of three times an hour. However, outside of this cause, there are many other times I go through these waves with no discernable pattern.

Perhaps something I'll have to start taking notice of more closely. I'd definitely like to hear other's opinions...

Wicked Wednesday

Three of a kind

I can appreciate a beautiful woman. The soft skin, gorgeous curves, delicate shape. I am able to look at a woman and appreciate the beauty, like art. I've never been "attracted" to them though.

 I've always been a curious person. If I haven't done it, I want to. So I've always said that one day I wanted to have a threesome with another woman. The problem is I don't like sharing my toys so I'm a bit possessive about my men. Sure, a casual one would work but I'd imagine it's harder to find a man and a woman in the same night. For years this meant I just talked a big game.

At my new job, during classes, I was teacher's pet. Honestly, it's not my fault I'm smart and a bit of an over achiever, but this resulted in the rest of the class being not quite endeared to me. Apparently they don't believe you can be Ms. Prim and Proper at work then go home, go to the stripclub, drink and have sex all night. That just shows how little they knew. It got to a point where almost no one talked to me in that class until one time a girl invited me to a party she was throwing with other people from work. I went, even knowing I wasn't considered one of the cool kids.

 As I arrived I met Ava out front. She was young, brass, and irreverent. She had the body of a goddess and the mouth of a sailor. She was drinking a bottle of red wine through a twisty straw... the whole bottle. Ava eyed me with keen interest, they all kind of watched me. I immediately made a strong drink and inquired as to whether anyone would like to do a shot of tequila with me. My coworkers looked astonished. After that first lick of salt, that first sting of cheap tequila and the gush of lime, I was accepted. Jokes were made, drinks were offered and body shots soon started. S, another of our coworkers showed up to the party a little late, but she was just as intoxicated as the rest of us. She immediately joined in with the exclamations of wonderment over how they never knew I was so cool, and the dirty jokes and the wit? Where had I been hiding all this? As our night continued the jokes became more sexual in nature, as tends to happen when you get a mixed group together for drinking and socializing. A friend of mine, with a pool, who hosted the best parties, called and said he had some male friends over but they were sadly lacking in females. He asked if I knew any ladies who would like to get naked in his pool. I jokingly extended the offer to the girls at the party and Ava and S immediately told me to grab my keys. We were going to cool off on this hot summer night.

As we arrived at the house I could see the effect these two gorgeous women with me had on the men present. Both tall, statuesque women with exotic looks and firm young curves, it was impossible not to stare. Drinks were quickly made and Ava and S did not hesitate to strip off their clothes and dive in the pool. I had frequently been naked in this pool before in front of these men so it was nothing for me to strip down and join. We were frolicking, splashing, drinking and playing. I couldn't tell you how it started. The men were on the side of the pool and it was just the three of us still in. A joking fondle turned to a kiss, which turned into a sincere caress. A firm breast, a body slick no longer just with water but also now too with arousal. S and I both had one of Ava's pert nipples in our mouths. My hand was caressing Ava's satiny smooth entrance and S's fingers were exploring me. Quickly Ava was moaning and had a firm grasp in my wet hair. Her mouth searched for mine hungrily. I couldn't believe that somehow I was included in this erotic show with these two goddesses.

The men could hardly contain themselves while staring with avid interest at these three woman who were devouring each other in the pool. I put Ava up on the side of the pool. I had to taste her. This is always the part I was apprehensive of, but I quickly found I needn't have been. Her taste was light, and the unique smell of her not unpleasant. S continued to play my body like a instrument. She knew just where to press, just where to rub. I could feel her breasts cool against my back as I continued to worship Ava with my mouth. I quickly brought Ava to release and then the places were turned. S smiled up at me as I parted my legs from the ledge of the pool. She was excited and knew it was my first time. Ava and S stared at me and had a dueling of their tongues, fingers darting here and there. Then suddenly the flick of S's tongue was on my clitoris. I was startled and instantly gushing. With Ava behind S, staring at me while bringing S to her own peak, I quickly found release from the expert skill of S's mouth. Soon we are all satiated, and langorous.

We laughed and continued on with our night as though nothing had happened, as though we hadn't just put on the most erotic live show any of those men could've hoped to see. I was bewildered, and privileged to have been a part of that. I look back on the evening with pleasure. Not only had I had my threesome with another woman, I had it with two women who were almost impossibly beautiful. It was so different from anything that I had ever experienced in my life. Being with a woman is a whole different level than a man. They know what it feels like, it's not searching or wondering. There is assurity in movement and action. I, however, still love men and can honestly say that although that night was pleasurable, women still don't do it for me sexually. I'm attracted to masculinity and hard planes. The soft touch of a woman didn't excite me the way a firm grasp of a man does. After that night, Ava and I went on to be best friends and there has never been a repeat. There has never been an awkward moment or desire to either. I'm lucky to have found her and lucky to have been in such capable hands for my exploration into being with another woman.

This post is my first Wicked Wednesday entry. Thanks for the inspiration Rebel!

Wicked Wednesday

Key to Happiness

Me: What would your ideal sex life be like? (We were discussing frequency)

Him: Probably about two or three times a month. (My heart just dropped, a month?! Seriously?) With the ability to negotiate more if wanted.

Me: A month? Are you serious?

Him: More if wanted.

Me: Then why didn't you just stay in your previous relationship?

Him: She wouldn't negotiate more. And we weren't happy like you and I are.

Me: You know why we're happy?

Him: Why?

Me: Because we're getting laid, daily, at my insistence.

Him: Is that why we're so happy?

Me: Absolutely, beyond a doubt. It's the key to happiness.

Men are like shoes

Our mother told us frequently: "Men are like shoes. You must try on a lot of them to find the right fit."

All of us girls have tried on many, many different pairs. For myself, I am all too aware of what fits and what doesn't, and which to keep, and which to pass up on. It is a unique and personal decision. What may not fit me, will have another delightfully happy. I've always found this odd, true, but wonderful advice.

Not so thankful Thanksgiving...

I am sexually demanding. I acknowledge that and will rarely make apologies for it. So when I demanded sex on a daily basis before agreeing to marriage, it was a clear expectation.

And then the military gets him more than I do....

I am patient, understanding, waiting; always waiting.

And then he actually had a whole four days off. I was wet just thinking about it. I told him all the things I wanted us to do. Expressed the desire to be mindless from so many orgasms. We had no kids for the holiday, I took out our ties and proudly kept them on our bed posts. This was not going to be our normal routine, obligatory sex. Oh, no sir.

And then reality set in, like his exhaustion from actually having time off. So when I demanded, and he agreed, the sex was good, I still wanted it. But I wanted a partner who wants me just as fiercely. This has been a battle in every relationship; it is clearly an internal conflict at this point in my life.

It's not about love. He loves me with an intensity that is unquestionable. It is a separate, and still important, ingredient in our relationship. I need to feel desired. Even after three times throughout the day, I want to be played with, touched, pulled towards, thrown on the bed and fucked senseless, even if we were just there minutes ago. We don't have many opportunities to be spontaneous, languorous.

It's not about adequacy. With the merest of touches, he pushes buttons and an orgasm gushes. But I wanted an urgency, a fervent lust, a physical worship, a need like breath. I didn't want the one-sided initiation every time. I wanted out of our routine....