but life has been going absolutely wild lately.
My 16 yr old has to have her tonsils & adenoids out in 2 weeks.
I have to have some bone hunked out of my neck vertabrae--whenever they tell me.
My son is going thru a shit-ton of testing for ADD, aspergers & whatever the hell else alphabet soup they can come up with. We have an average of 3 dr/shrink appts each week. I can't keep up & the gas money is killing me.
Still seeing Roger & Sue, at least once a week, sometimes more. Sue is showing signs of jealousy & I'm soooo not cool with that. I'd prefer to have alone time with them both, to be able to develop physical AND mental connections--instead of always a THREESOME. (which is a lot of pressure at times). So--when I mentioned this, she immediately assumes that I want time alone with Roger & not her---well YES, but I want time alone with HER too.
I'm turned off by jealousy & greedy behavior. I want a balance. I'm tired of every Saturday night is a drunken threesome. We need some variety & some different things brought in. Not just props, but different experiences & dabbling.
I've also been talking to Jack alot. Been having some web-cam action & enjoying the hell out of his orders. He's trying to come up with the money for me to come see him this weekend. (I'm broke--forever & a day). Soooo...I think I'm going to. I do love him, we just can't live together ever again. I love our physical connection, but also, we've been playing a lot of Daddy/little girl play. I put my hair in pig-tails, put on some little girl jammies & took some naughty pics of me & my teddy bear. Then he talked me through some orgasms on the webcam. Totallyyyy freakin HOT. He doesn't have a cam, but I could hear his voice---telling me what to do, how much of a good girl I was being---*swoooon*.
There will be a major conflict when I tell Roger & Sue tomorrow that I'm going to see Jack this weekend. Sue believes that I'll dump them for him--nooooo. This is supposed to be an OPEN POLY RELATIONSHIP--and I don't plan on being nailed down to just seeing them. I'm not going to be monogamous with anyone at this point. I'm playing around with people I LOVE, not just out whoring & picking up random people. I do love Roger & Sue, but I still love Jack too. Hell, if my house was clean enough, I'd take on another lover than lives 25 minutes away. He had such a great cock & was all about 'no strings attached'. But--he was kind of an odd duck. Anyway, we'll see what happens. I'm betting there will be a fight w/ Roger & Sue though. Oh well!
The other day, my pain level got so high & I started having a total manic/panic attack. It lasted for hours it seemed. I'm still right on the edge of breaking down just thinking about it. Everything in my life falling apart and I can't get anything in control. Just felt like a tornado was in my house & the voices in my head were SOOOO LOUDDDD. I talked to a couple people on the phone & messaged with Sue & Roger & Jack too. They've all been there, but I think I scared them because they've never seen me fall apart like this.
My daughter saw me going downhill at 4 when I picked her up from school. She swooped in & took care of my son, made sure there was dinner & was absolutely awesome. I'm so proud of her but I hate that I have to have a damn breakdown for her to understand I could use some help--all the TIME, not just when I fall apart. What a great kid though--she was supportive & caring & I knew I could count on her to take care of herself & my son. He's 10==so it wasn't like I was dumping a newborn on her & flaking out. They can pretty much take care of themselves--I am very grateful that she understood what I was going thru & pitched in. I hate that MANIC state where I just can't stop bawling & shaking & not able to breathe. Ugh, probably need new anti-depressants soon.
Other than that?? My car is screwing up, my laptop cord went to hell (60 bucks for a replacement--my friend bought it for me THANK THE GODS! & bless her heart!), and I'm still battling state insurance for coverage for my pain patches. I have to appeal it every 3 months & then I go without the medicine for 3 weeks until I can get all the paperwork through. IT'S THE SAME PAPERWORK EVERY TIME. Sooo annoying and hella painful because I need that med just to FUNCTION DAILY. It's all about rules & how they can 'save money' if I'd switch to oxycontin or some other cheap morphine crap. Bottom dollar and all that.
Ok, I know, rambling like crazy, I'm off to play on facebook--I'm addicted to the Castle Age & Vampire Wars games...oh my GODS, they amuse me & waste plenty of time!
Ta ta!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Nirvana
My lovers stayed over Friday & Saturday night. I'm getting so attached that I'm afraid. My heart glows when I know they are coming over. I'm squishy in love & yet, a nervous wreck at the same time.
My little house was full--4 adults, 3 kids full-time plus a neighbor kid & a friend from school for about 4 hours each day. Holy hell, the noise level. And the dishes. And the cooking. And the clutter. But it was fun!
Ohhhh & I got a punishment spanking around 4 Sunday morning. (Well, kind-of--because it's hard to keep it as a punishment in my head when I like it. But there is that mindfuck that I've messed up & need to repent.) I told Roger I was going to go put on my jammies & he said I had to dress in front of him. I brushed my teeth & came out of the bathroom with only a t-shirt on, walked across the room to my dresser to grab panties & jammie pants. He came up behind me when I was looking in the dresser, pulled my t-shirt off, placed his hand around my throat & had me look in the mirror. Whoa. He's whispering in my ear--Did I tell you that you could put on a t-shirt? while he pressed his body up against mine. I'm not struggling for breath, but it's not real easy to talk--so I just shake my head 'no' slightly. He grabbed my left nipple & pulled it so hard I got tears in my eyes--& felt my pussy twitch & start to get wet. Oh my gods, he can do things just with his voice that makes my body respond. But the play-choking & nipple torture is really nice too.
Sue leans in to take my other nipple in her mouth and I lean back into Roger to enjoy the sensation. He's still talking lowly into my ear, one hand still on my throat & the other roaming my body-- forcing me to look in the mirror while he describes my body. Sue's hand slaps my thighs & tells me to open my legs. My brain is racing with endorphins & Roger grasps tighter around my neck. She starts slapping my cunt--first three strokes were easy & then a sharp sting...three more easy taps & then another hard strike. I moan at the sharp slap & she jams two fingers inside me. The only reason I'm still able to stand up is because Roger is supporting me--my knees feel like jelly. She pulls out her fingers & shoves them in my mouth. Roger releases my throat & tells me I'm such a dirty little cunt for tasting myself. And bad little girls don't get orgasms when they don't obey. Daddy doesn't like it when his little girl can't behave. (fucking SWOON baby, I'm FLYING and moaning.) Sue shoves her fingers back inside me hard & fast...teasing my g-spot with precision. She pulls out & rubs my wetness all over my labia--I swear it feels like it's running down my leg. Roger's hand goes around my throat again while Sue rubs her fingers across my mouth. I start to suck on her fingers & she grabs the back of my hair hard, pulls me to look in her eyes while SHE sucks my wetness off of her fingers. A gutteral moan escaped & Roger bites my shoulder & neck while Sue kisses me. Her other hand starts tapping against my labia, swift sharp slaps while I groan into her mouth. I can no longer tell whose hand is where, I just know that this is nirvana.
Roger guides us to the bed, he has my hair entertwined in his fingers. He pulls me down to my knees & I start to reach for his zipper. Sue grabs my wrists & pulls them behind my back--my head tipped backward from my hair being pulled. She ravages my mouth with her tongue & Roger starts slapping my tits again. When I don't moan for a few seconds, he grabs both nipples & pulls me to his lap. Ohmyfreakingawd, I love to lay across (or sit in) his lap. With my ass in the air, Roger started spanking me swift, sharp & loud--his hand on the back of my neck holding my hair taut,my head shoved to the mattress. I'm trying not to drool because I'm so turned on. In between slaps, I feel Sue's hand rub across my red, stinging cheeks. I moan Thank You to her for soothing me & then I feel her hand slap right in the sweet spot where my thighs meet my cheeks. Roger & Sue alternate spanks while they tell me what a naughty sub I am, how I need to pay attention to Master's orders better, how I was their little girl to do with as they pleased. I start to really squirm because I'm not sure how much more I can take. Tears are brimming my eyes & I sniffle as I struggle to be still. The spanks keep coming hard with an occasional rub randomly thrown in. When they rub the sore spots, I try to say "Thank you" but it comes out as a sob. Fingers swiftly enter my cunt & start grinding against my g-spot again. I can tell it's Sue's fingers inside me--she has a gentler touch entering me but then strokes me hard once she has her fingers in deep. Roger is rubbing my blood red cheeks telling me that I'm a good girl for taking the spanking so well. Daddy loves his little girl so much. (swoon again!) I try to lift my head to tell him I love him too & he says "Put your head back down, you little bitch. I didn't tell you to move." Tears start rolling again & Sue pulls her fingers out to rub against my clit. I can't help but tilt towards her fingers.
I'm climbing higher & closer with each swirl of motion across my clit. Roger has taken his hand out of my hair & is tweaking my nipple so hard I think he's going to pull it off. I feel transcendental, like if I close my eyes I could watch this from the ceiling corner. My body flexes to rigid state as I hit the top peak of my orgasm. One of them shoves their fingers against my g-spot & the floodgates open up. I felt warm liquid pulse out of me as I gasp, moaning 'oh fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck' over & over. When I finally stop quivering from the intensity, four hands are rubbing all over me. THIS is nirvana.
Roger tosses me to the middle of the bed, Sue grabs a towel. We snuggle into our usual spots and I sleep like a dream. The last thing I remember them talking about is how I have to please them in the morning. And so it goes...
Have I said how much I love my life right now?
My little house was full--4 adults, 3 kids full-time plus a neighbor kid & a friend from school for about 4 hours each day. Holy hell, the noise level. And the dishes. And the cooking. And the clutter. But it was fun!
Ohhhh & I got a punishment spanking around 4 Sunday morning. (Well, kind-of--because it's hard to keep it as a punishment in my head when I like it. But there is that mindfuck that I've messed up & need to repent.) I told Roger I was going to go put on my jammies & he said I had to dress in front of him. I brushed my teeth & came out of the bathroom with only a t-shirt on, walked across the room to my dresser to grab panties & jammie pants. He came up behind me when I was looking in the dresser, pulled my t-shirt off, placed his hand around my throat & had me look in the mirror. Whoa. He's whispering in my ear--Did I tell you that you could put on a t-shirt? while he pressed his body up against mine. I'm not struggling for breath, but it's not real easy to talk--so I just shake my head 'no' slightly. He grabbed my left nipple & pulled it so hard I got tears in my eyes--& felt my pussy twitch & start to get wet. Oh my gods, he can do things just with his voice that makes my body respond. But the play-choking & nipple torture is really nice too.
Sue leans in to take my other nipple in her mouth and I lean back into Roger to enjoy the sensation. He's still talking lowly into my ear, one hand still on my throat & the other roaming my body-- forcing me to look in the mirror while he describes my body. Sue's hand slaps my thighs & tells me to open my legs. My brain is racing with endorphins & Roger grasps tighter around my neck. She starts slapping my cunt--first three strokes were easy & then a sharp sting...three more easy taps & then another hard strike. I moan at the sharp slap & she jams two fingers inside me. The only reason I'm still able to stand up is because Roger is supporting me--my knees feel like jelly. She pulls out her fingers & shoves them in my mouth. Roger releases my throat & tells me I'm such a dirty little cunt for tasting myself. And bad little girls don't get orgasms when they don't obey. Daddy doesn't like it when his little girl can't behave. (fucking SWOON baby, I'm FLYING and moaning.) Sue shoves her fingers back inside me hard & fast...teasing my g-spot with precision. She pulls out & rubs my wetness all over my labia--I swear it feels like it's running down my leg. Roger's hand goes around my throat again while Sue rubs her fingers across my mouth. I start to suck on her fingers & she grabs the back of my hair hard, pulls me to look in her eyes while SHE sucks my wetness off of her fingers. A gutteral moan escaped & Roger bites my shoulder & neck while Sue kisses me. Her other hand starts tapping against my labia, swift sharp slaps while I groan into her mouth. I can no longer tell whose hand is where, I just know that this is nirvana.
Roger guides us to the bed, he has my hair entertwined in his fingers. He pulls me down to my knees & I start to reach for his zipper. Sue grabs my wrists & pulls them behind my back--my head tipped backward from my hair being pulled. She ravages my mouth with her tongue & Roger starts slapping my tits again. When I don't moan for a few seconds, he grabs both nipples & pulls me to his lap. Ohmyfreakingawd, I love to lay across (or sit in) his lap. With my ass in the air, Roger started spanking me swift, sharp & loud--his hand on the back of my neck holding my hair taut,my head shoved to the mattress. I'm trying not to drool because I'm so turned on. In between slaps, I feel Sue's hand rub across my red, stinging cheeks. I moan Thank You to her for soothing me & then I feel her hand slap right in the sweet spot where my thighs meet my cheeks. Roger & Sue alternate spanks while they tell me what a naughty sub I am, how I need to pay attention to Master's orders better, how I was their little girl to do with as they pleased. I start to really squirm because I'm not sure how much more I can take. Tears are brimming my eyes & I sniffle as I struggle to be still. The spanks keep coming hard with an occasional rub randomly thrown in. When they rub the sore spots, I try to say "Thank you" but it comes out as a sob. Fingers swiftly enter my cunt & start grinding against my g-spot again. I can tell it's Sue's fingers inside me--she has a gentler touch entering me but then strokes me hard once she has her fingers in deep. Roger is rubbing my blood red cheeks telling me that I'm a good girl for taking the spanking so well. Daddy loves his little girl so much. (swoon again!) I try to lift my head to tell him I love him too & he says "Put your head back down, you little bitch. I didn't tell you to move." Tears start rolling again & Sue pulls her fingers out to rub against my clit. I can't help but tilt towards her fingers.
I'm climbing higher & closer with each swirl of motion across my clit. Roger has taken his hand out of my hair & is tweaking my nipple so hard I think he's going to pull it off. I feel transcendental, like if I close my eyes I could watch this from the ceiling corner. My body flexes to rigid state as I hit the top peak of my orgasm. One of them shoves their fingers against my g-spot & the floodgates open up. I felt warm liquid pulse out of me as I gasp, moaning 'oh fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck' over & over. When I finally stop quivering from the intensity, four hands are rubbing all over me. THIS is nirvana.
Roger tosses me to the middle of the bed, Sue grabs a towel. We snuggle into our usual spots and I sleep like a dream. The last thing I remember them talking about is how I have to please them in the morning. And so it goes...
Have I said how much I love my life right now?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Genetically fucked
This week has been insane. Four appointments & after-school junk & my pain level has been out of this world. I've had to force myself to get my ass outta bed. The house looks like nasty hobos live here & I need to fumigate.
Took son to his new shrink, trying to figure out what is going on with his attention span, failing grades & just spacey behavior. All his life, I've just said "he's quirky" and we've catered to his behaviors. We used to call him Eeyor because he was just so laid back & whatever about stuff. He's a totally sensitive, loving, great kid--but sometimes tells lies--and not even good ones. The shrink called me in & had my son tell me what they talked about. My 10 yr old sat beside me & told me how he's planned on committing suicide since 3rd grade. I absolutely did NOT see that coming. I'm trying to not lose it & sob & my BABY COMFORTS ME. Oh my god. We talked about it with the doc & he now has a safety plan for when these feelings hit him. And off we go to the shrink weekly--30 minutes away. I am so thankful for Medicaid--but it is a total bitch to get things covered & approved.
So thus far--the doc thinks he has Asperger's Syndrome along with ADD (no hyper) and depression. I knew the depression thing--as it's a total family trait. Both my parents, me, my 16 yr old & who knows what on their dad's side--they are odd ducks. I feel that I have genetically screwed up my kids for life. Would it have stopped me from having kids? Nahhh, I just wish I knew about all the family history & acted upon therapy YEARS ago.
I'm unsettled about it all. I don't understand enough about Aspie's & ADD yet. What I've read so far online--I'm flabbergasted that he has SO MANY of these traits and I didn't do/think/figure it out before 5th grade. My 16 yr old has been on depression meds since she was 14 and--she's a cutter. (as was I--now I compensate differently though). I'm unnerved that three depressed people should live in the same house. Holy shit, that's fucking overwhelming. There isn't much sanity in the house and I'M THE MOMMY. Fuck.
And with other great news, I went to the pain doc yesterday to talk about surgery. I have a huge ass knot right where a bra would go (if I wore one lol). He kept flicking it with his fingers to see how hard I would flinch. Fucker! He hemmed & hawed when I asked direct questions about fibro & all the other spinal issues I have--until he just said "He doesn't believe that fibro is a correct diagnosis. He believes there is SOMETHING wrong & dr's can't explain it--so they slap the Fibro name on it." Hmmm okayyyy. BUT--he is very understanding & comforting & acknowledges that I AM in PAIN. He totally said "Sometimes we JUST.DON'T.KNOW what is wrong, but I will do what I can to fix it." I dig this guy, truly. I've been thru some jackass docs in the last 20 years and this one ADMITS he's HUMAN.
Sooooo...the knot in my bra line is either a fracture or a tumor. But don't worry--either way, we'll stick a 2 foot needle in there & root around. And it may take three weeks to get Medicaid to approve x-rays & a new MRI. (Did I get new pain meds? NOPE--I'm just fucking dealing with it and wise-cracking to my friends that I may-or-may-not have a goddamn tumor on my spine.)
And--after THAT is taken care of--I'm going to have a stimulator put in my spinal cord. It VIBRATES away PAIN. I'm all for it--because hey--I like vibrating things. lol. I'm also pretty excited that this implant will set off airport security, shoplifting sensors and I can't ever have another MRI--because the wires will be like cooking aluminum foil in a microwave. YAY ME!! They give me an ID card showing that I will set off this stuff--so I told my g/f that I'm going to start shoplifting & then getting pissy that they are discriminating against me because of the implant in my body. (not really)
Here's another thing I'm pretty worried about--who the hell is going to deal with taking care of me in recovery? I'm a single mom with 2 kids--my mom is my only family (i have a sister--but she's a pain in the ass). How the hell am I going to get thru this? AND NOT HAVE SEX? DAMMIT ALL TO HELL. Who's gonna feed them hogs? (obscure country song reference--but I totally get it!)
The other thing about the stimulator is--I'm going to have this fifty-cent piece plastic thing under my skin. It had by-god-better not be on my rump. I'm not giving up spankings. The humanity! Oh & the big-ass splotchy burn on my back from my heating pad? I have permanently TATTOOED myself--it will never go away. It looks gross as hell, but I'm all ready cock-eyed, what's another thing? I stopped using the heating pad back in July--it's STILL red as apples. I am an idiot!
Ok, I'm going to do the dishes, Roger & Sue are coming over later. Wooohooo lovin's! They give me such comfort--emotionally and physically. It's weird to be in love with a married couple. I go from feeling all squishy in love to--omg--if my other friends' or family knew--they'd have me committed. That's something that really bothers Roger--because he wants to tell everyone. And I'll always be in the closet about being poly & bi--if I continue to live here. Maybe in a different lifetime? Or when my kids are over 18? Maybe.
Took son to his new shrink, trying to figure out what is going on with his attention span, failing grades & just spacey behavior. All his life, I've just said "he's quirky" and we've catered to his behaviors. We used to call him Eeyor because he was just so laid back & whatever about stuff. He's a totally sensitive, loving, great kid--but sometimes tells lies--and not even good ones. The shrink called me in & had my son tell me what they talked about. My 10 yr old sat beside me & told me how he's planned on committing suicide since 3rd grade. I absolutely did NOT see that coming. I'm trying to not lose it & sob & my BABY COMFORTS ME. Oh my god. We talked about it with the doc & he now has a safety plan for when these feelings hit him. And off we go to the shrink weekly--30 minutes away. I am so thankful for Medicaid--but it is a total bitch to get things covered & approved.
So thus far--the doc thinks he has Asperger's Syndrome along with ADD (no hyper) and depression. I knew the depression thing--as it's a total family trait. Both my parents, me, my 16 yr old & who knows what on their dad's side--they are odd ducks. I feel that I have genetically screwed up my kids for life. Would it have stopped me from having kids? Nahhh, I just wish I knew about all the family history & acted upon therapy YEARS ago.
I'm unsettled about it all. I don't understand enough about Aspie's & ADD yet. What I've read so far online--I'm flabbergasted that he has SO MANY of these traits and I didn't do/think/figure it out before 5th grade. My 16 yr old has been on depression meds since she was 14 and--she's a cutter. (as was I--now I compensate differently though). I'm unnerved that three depressed people should live in the same house. Holy shit, that's fucking overwhelming. There isn't much sanity in the house and I'M THE MOMMY. Fuck.
And with other great news, I went to the pain doc yesterday to talk about surgery. I have a huge ass knot right where a bra would go (if I wore one lol). He kept flicking it with his fingers to see how hard I would flinch. Fucker! He hemmed & hawed when I asked direct questions about fibro & all the other spinal issues I have--until he just said "He doesn't believe that fibro is a correct diagnosis. He believes there is SOMETHING wrong & dr's can't explain it--so they slap the Fibro name on it." Hmmm okayyyy. BUT--he is very understanding & comforting & acknowledges that I AM in PAIN. He totally said "Sometimes we JUST.DON'T.KNOW what is wrong, but I will do what I can to fix it." I dig this guy, truly. I've been thru some jackass docs in the last 20 years and this one ADMITS he's HUMAN.
Sooooo...the knot in my bra line is either a fracture or a tumor. But don't worry--either way, we'll stick a 2 foot needle in there & root around. And it may take three weeks to get Medicaid to approve x-rays & a new MRI. (Did I get new pain meds? NOPE--I'm just fucking dealing with it and wise-cracking to my friends that I may-or-may-not have a goddamn tumor on my spine.)
And--after THAT is taken care of--I'm going to have a stimulator put in my spinal cord. It VIBRATES away PAIN. I'm all for it--because hey--I like vibrating things. lol. I'm also pretty excited that this implant will set off airport security, shoplifting sensors and I can't ever have another MRI--because the wires will be like cooking aluminum foil in a microwave. YAY ME!! They give me an ID card showing that I will set off this stuff--so I told my g/f that I'm going to start shoplifting & then getting pissy that they are discriminating against me because of the implant in my body. (not really)
Here's another thing I'm pretty worried about--who the hell is going to deal with taking care of me in recovery? I'm a single mom with 2 kids--my mom is my only family (i have a sister--but she's a pain in the ass). How the hell am I going to get thru this? AND NOT HAVE SEX? DAMMIT ALL TO HELL. Who's gonna feed them hogs? (obscure country song reference--but I totally get it!)
The other thing about the stimulator is--I'm going to have this fifty-cent piece plastic thing under my skin. It had by-god-better not be on my rump. I'm not giving up spankings. The humanity! Oh & the big-ass splotchy burn on my back from my heating pad? I have permanently TATTOOED myself--it will never go away. It looks gross as hell, but I'm all ready cock-eyed, what's another thing? I stopped using the heating pad back in July--it's STILL red as apples. I am an idiot!
Ok, I'm going to do the dishes, Roger & Sue are coming over later. Wooohooo lovin's! They give me such comfort--emotionally and physically. It's weird to be in love with a married couple. I go from feeling all squishy in love to--omg--if my other friends' or family knew--they'd have me committed. That's something that really bothers Roger--because he wants to tell everyone. And I'll always be in the closet about being poly & bi--if I continue to live here. Maybe in a different lifetime? Or when my kids are over 18? Maybe.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
My first lapdances....
I've been to strip clubs before. My first one was in an Army-base town & my friend was a pregnant stripper. (classy) I was 20 and trying not to let anyone see me look at the girls. I battled with being attracted to girls a LOT. It was 1991, I was from a small redneck town where gay-bashing jokes were rampant & scary. There was no way I could tell anyone that I liked boys AND girls. And wanted to devour them all.
(sidenote: my ex-husband proposed to me in an alley outside a strip club. High class.)
Even in jr high, I remember changing clothes in the locker room & the girl beside me had incredible tits. My mouth watered as I forced myself to look the other way...but all I wanted to do was lean over and put her perfect, rigid nipple in my mouth. I was out-of-my-mind afraid that people could read my thoughts, so I always kept my eyes downcast as much as possible in school.
Jr high & high school was a very confusing time for me, all those hormones racing & I could not figure out if I liked boys or girls. I went along with the mainstream crowd & 'dated' boys. Always the 'bad boys' too, if they had a rugged exterior, caused trouble or had a bad reputation. Hell, I grew up & still live in John Mellencamp & James Dean country. Bad boys liked wild girls.
Anyway, back to the 'attracted to girls' thing. I pushed that down for years, didn't explore it until I was 19. I fell in love with a girl & we were both terrified of our feelings. Kissing her was like biting into juicy peaches...oh my god, I still fantasize about her kisses. We were both totally inept at the girl-on-girl thing....and we laughed and learned and explored. It's a hella lot easier sneaking girly sex with the ruse of sleepovers than it is trying to get it on with your boyfriend when you still live with your parents.
And then one day...it all just fell apart. No more sleepovers, no more phone calls...just stopped. I ran into her at a drugstore buying a pregnancy test. She totally avoided eye contact. Awkward as hell, I wished her the best & walked out. I've not been 'in love' with a girl since--until now. I'm more terrified of loving a girl than I am a guy--I don't have a clue why. It just wounded me to the core.
Hell, this all started as a story about going to the strip club and now I'm all trying to figure out my girl attraction.
Roger, Sue & I went to a little dive with $50. Dollar lapdances bayyybeee! I loved staring at the men getting hard with booty in their face. (I do so love watching cocks harden.) I'm not wild about touching strangers--but Roger pulled the "dom card" and I melted into a puddle. He leaned over, yanked my hair hard, shoved bills in my hand & said "DO IT." I'm a wuss, I admit it. lol.
I damn near had to sit on my hands--I wanted to fondle her perky tits & nibble on her perfect ass. Gyrating her ass in my face, Sue made eye contact with me & I pretended to take a bite. The bouncer sees this & hollers "BITE HER" and I accidentally touched her leg & she flinched. I was MORTIFIED. I'd broken the cardinal rule of the strip club--they can touch YOU, but you can't touch THEM. I turned 4 shades of red and kept saying "I'm sooooo sorry!" She laughed it off while the bar laughed at ME! lol.
Sue & I were the only non-stripper/non-bartender girls there. Roger is pointing out who is checking us out. I told him he had a god complex because he was the only guy there who was definitely going to get laid that night AND with two women. We went home with $10, hot, horny & had crazy threesome sex. Ahhh, I love my life.
(sidenote: my ex-husband proposed to me in an alley outside a strip club. High class.)
Even in jr high, I remember changing clothes in the locker room & the girl beside me had incredible tits. My mouth watered as I forced myself to look the other way...but all I wanted to do was lean over and put her perfect, rigid nipple in my mouth. I was out-of-my-mind afraid that people could read my thoughts, so I always kept my eyes downcast as much as possible in school.
Jr high & high school was a very confusing time for me, all those hormones racing & I could not figure out if I liked boys or girls. I went along with the mainstream crowd & 'dated' boys. Always the 'bad boys' too, if they had a rugged exterior, caused trouble or had a bad reputation. Hell, I grew up & still live in John Mellencamp & James Dean country. Bad boys liked wild girls.
Anyway, back to the 'attracted to girls' thing. I pushed that down for years, didn't explore it until I was 19. I fell in love with a girl & we were both terrified of our feelings. Kissing her was like biting into juicy peaches...oh my god, I still fantasize about her kisses. We were both totally inept at the girl-on-girl thing....and we laughed and learned and explored. It's a hella lot easier sneaking girly sex with the ruse of sleepovers than it is trying to get it on with your boyfriend when you still live with your parents.
And then one day...it all just fell apart. No more sleepovers, no more phone calls...just stopped. I ran into her at a drugstore buying a pregnancy test. She totally avoided eye contact. Awkward as hell, I wished her the best & walked out. I've not been 'in love' with a girl since--until now. I'm more terrified of loving a girl than I am a guy--I don't have a clue why. It just wounded me to the core.
Hell, this all started as a story about going to the strip club and now I'm all trying to figure out my girl attraction.
Roger, Sue & I went to a little dive with $50. Dollar lapdances bayyybeee! I loved staring at the men getting hard with booty in their face. (I do so love watching cocks harden.) I'm not wild about touching strangers--but Roger pulled the "dom card" and I melted into a puddle. He leaned over, yanked my hair hard, shoved bills in my hand & said "DO IT." I'm a wuss, I admit it. lol.
I damn near had to sit on my hands--I wanted to fondle her perky tits & nibble on her perfect ass. Gyrating her ass in my face, Sue made eye contact with me & I pretended to take a bite. The bouncer sees this & hollers "BITE HER" and I accidentally touched her leg & she flinched. I was MORTIFIED. I'd broken the cardinal rule of the strip club--they can touch YOU, but you can't touch THEM. I turned 4 shades of red and kept saying "I'm sooooo sorry!" She laughed it off while the bar laughed at ME! lol.
Sue & I were the only non-stripper/non-bartender girls there. Roger is pointing out who is checking us out. I told him he had a god complex because he was the only guy there who was definitely going to get laid that night AND with two women. We went home with $10, hot, horny & had crazy threesome sex. Ahhh, I love my life.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Educate me, please...
I took my 16 year old daughter to Planned Parenthood today. She threatened to walk in the office & ask for a coat hanger. I lost it & spewed my energy drink down my shirt. Sick & twisted runs in our family--we can't help it. (She'd seen the coat hanger joke online somewhere & stored it in her brain for *this* exact moment. I love that sick kid of mine.)
We're surrounded by college girls in the waiting room. I felt out of place being the only mom there...but I hoped to score some cheap condoms too. (They always have a great assortment of colored ones--nothing like a blue condom to make you giggle during sex.) We went through all of the brochures & attempted to educate ourselves. Plus--there was a great tutorial on "How to Use A Condom"--we took three.
Daughter had to fill out a sex history form and I was totally stumped by a couple of the questions.
"Do you have problems remembering to wear your seatbelt?" I can only guess that's a sign that you're too dingy to be on a birth control pill & actually take it daily. (I was in that category..umm..once or thirteen times.)
The second stumper was "Check all the types of sex you have had.
__Vaginal __Oral __Anal __Other_______"
Other? Daughter leaned over & asked what "other" might be. I started humming the Veggie Tales theme song & we giggled like maniacs. The lyrics in my head were "If you'd like to fuck with tomatoes, If you'd like to insert potatoes, If a squash can make you smile...Have we got a zucchini for you!" (yeah, I'm not lyrically talented--whatever, this IS my brain & I'm seriously not on enough drugs.)
I really couldn't come up with an answer. Do you really want to write in "finger-banging" or "tit-fucking" there? Is that truly necessary to divulge? Do you think this includes dildos, vibrators & masturbation? I want to know what some people have opted to 'write in'. I'm curious as hell! I'd love to fill one out myself and write in "Once, at church camp..." (Who am I kidding--I've only been to Vacation Bible School?)
The other question was "Have you had inappropriate sex?"
Inappropriate HOW? Are we talking illegal & immoral? Ye GODS--I'm not sure I want to know what they would consider 'inappropriate.' Much of my sex life was inappropriate..and still is--but that's how I LIKE it.
My daughter tapped her pen beside this question and I shrugged my shoulders & whispered "Moooooooo" in her ear. She snorted her laugh so hard--she sounded just like a pig & I just said "EXACTLY--please don't fill that one out honey, I really don't want that recorded in your medical file for all eternity."
We were getting glares from the preppy college girls. I can only guess they were trying to concentrate on filling out their Plan B or syphillis form. Sluts. heehee.
Thank gods for Planned Parenthood though...they saved my ass for several years.
I'm so snitching all the blue condoms out of my daughter's loot bag & trading her with the clear ones. When are they going to start putting Ed Hardy tattoo images on condoms? Wouldn't that be bad ass???
We're surrounded by college girls in the waiting room. I felt out of place being the only mom there...but I hoped to score some cheap condoms too. (They always have a great assortment of colored ones--nothing like a blue condom to make you giggle during sex.) We went through all of the brochures & attempted to educate ourselves. Plus--there was a great tutorial on "How to Use A Condom"--we took three.
Daughter had to fill out a sex history form and I was totally stumped by a couple of the questions.
"Do you have problems remembering to wear your seatbelt?" I can only guess that's a sign that you're too dingy to be on a birth control pill & actually take it daily. (I was in that category..umm..once or thirteen times.)
The second stumper was "Check all the types of sex you have had.
__Vaginal __Oral __Anal __Other_______"
Other? Daughter leaned over & asked what "other" might be. I started humming the Veggie Tales theme song & we giggled like maniacs. The lyrics in my head were "If you'd like to fuck with tomatoes, If you'd like to insert potatoes, If a squash can make you smile...Have we got a zucchini for you!" (yeah, I'm not lyrically talented--whatever, this IS my brain & I'm seriously not on enough drugs.)
I really couldn't come up with an answer. Do you really want to write in "finger-banging" or "tit-fucking" there? Is that truly necessary to divulge? Do you think this includes dildos, vibrators & masturbation? I want to know what some people have opted to 'write in'. I'm curious as hell! I'd love to fill one out myself and write in "Once, at church camp..." (Who am I kidding--I've only been to Vacation Bible School?)
The other question was "Have you had inappropriate sex?"
Inappropriate HOW? Are we talking illegal & immoral? Ye GODS--I'm not sure I want to know what they would consider 'inappropriate.' Much of my sex life was inappropriate..and still is--but that's how I LIKE it.
My daughter tapped her pen beside this question and I shrugged my shoulders & whispered "Moooooooo" in her ear. She snorted her laugh so hard--she sounded just like a pig & I just said "EXACTLY--please don't fill that one out honey, I really don't want that recorded in your medical file for all eternity."
We were getting glares from the preppy college girls. I can only guess they were trying to concentrate on filling out their Plan B or syphillis form. Sluts. heehee.
Thank gods for Planned Parenthood though...they saved my ass for several years.
I'm so snitching all the blue condoms out of my daughter's loot bag & trading her with the clear ones. When are they going to start putting Ed Hardy tattoo images on condoms? Wouldn't that be bad ass???
Sunday, September 20, 2009
So...I'm a unicorn.
And Roger & Sue are taking me shopping next weekend for a new collar. Surreal, happy, content. Nearly a year ago, Jack & I were looking for our own unicorn to play with. I love how life changes.
This is the first time in my life--that I've had friends, that I can say ANYTHING to. I don't have to hedge my comments or hold back my thoughts or censor my fantasies. It is fucking EXHILARATING. I love hanging out with them & talking all night. I love sleeping in between them & holding Sue's hand while Roger snuggles & spoons me. And the sex is a whole bunch of awesome.
In every relationship I've ever been in--I've held back or tried to be/act/say what I thought the other person wanted me to be. Yes, it was insane...but I've had this underlying need to be 'approved of.' The struggle of pretending to be someone I wasn't for most of my life is over. I can tell them anything & they love me *anyway*.
Except for the part where I can't 'come out' to my family or 'normal' friends as being a bisexual-owned-submissive in a polyamorous relationship with a married couple. Ok--I'll never be able to divulge that to most of the people in my everyday life. I live in a small, backward, redneck-ish town & I never want my kids to have to deal with idiots judging them--because of me.
I'm totally not making much sense, I only slept for 4 hours in between them Saturday night...and that was after having 5 shots of Crown. Then last night I had 4 shots & slept for 6 hours--before son woke me up at 6:30 a.m. wanting me to put the head back on his action figure. WTF--do you see me sleeping?
Also Saturday, Roger & Sue drove 3 hours each way to pick up a girl they've been talking to online. I told Roger he is just wanting to feel like a god with three women in his bed. Greedy! The girl was fun, intelligent & cute. She's 13 years younger than me...so that is a bit strange. I prefer to date people who remember the 80's. lol. She slept in the spare bedroom & claimed a headache...after saying she could drink us all under the table. Ha! Maybe me--because I am a lightweight with drinking nowadays. But Sue? I've seen her drink a half a gallon of vodka & not even slur. There were a couple of times the 'new girl' contradicted herself into a corner with her own lies; I'm glad she lives far away. Not from jealousy, I get a vibe that she can create a ton of drama. My own warning bells go off when people don't have a driver's license, job or talk constantly how 'The Man is out to get them.' Ummm, yeah. We all have our own demons, but dang girl, try not to show up on Psycho Radar.
I'm still fighting with my insurance company for coverage of a med I've been on for over 3 years. I've been without it for three weeks as of today & I've made more than 20 phone calls about it to my dr's office and insurance company. Gee, no rush. Fuck it all, glad I only have *chronic, debilitating pain* rather than ya know--something serious. There have been a handful of moments where my brain has entertained thoughts of suicide because my pain level is that.fucking.bad. Oh sanity, where art thou? I cannot tell this to my primary dr--because I am paranoid that my ex could find out & use it against me in court/custody. The receptionist is a friend of his girlfriend and I can't ever let that be documented. I'm praying that it is cleared up today. I don't have minutes to spare on my stupid ass rape-me-by-the-minute cell phone. Plus, the weather changed drastically & I'm feeling it in my bones. I so need to move to a better climate.
I'm going to take a nap. Yay for rainy days & Mondays.
This is the first time in my life--that I've had friends, that I can say ANYTHING to. I don't have to hedge my comments or hold back my thoughts or censor my fantasies. It is fucking EXHILARATING. I love hanging out with them & talking all night. I love sleeping in between them & holding Sue's hand while Roger snuggles & spoons me. And the sex is a whole bunch of awesome.
In every relationship I've ever been in--I've held back or tried to be/act/say what I thought the other person wanted me to be. Yes, it was insane...but I've had this underlying need to be 'approved of.' The struggle of pretending to be someone I wasn't for most of my life is over. I can tell them anything & they love me *anyway*.
Except for the part where I can't 'come out' to my family or 'normal' friends as being a bisexual-owned-submissive in a polyamorous relationship with a married couple. Ok--I'll never be able to divulge that to most of the people in my everyday life. I live in a small, backward, redneck-ish town & I never want my kids to have to deal with idiots judging them--because of me.
I'm totally not making much sense, I only slept for 4 hours in between them Saturday night...and that was after having 5 shots of Crown. Then last night I had 4 shots & slept for 6 hours--before son woke me up at 6:30 a.m. wanting me to put the head back on his action figure. WTF--do you see me sleeping?
Also Saturday, Roger & Sue drove 3 hours each way to pick up a girl they've been talking to online. I told Roger he is just wanting to feel like a god with three women in his bed. Greedy! The girl was fun, intelligent & cute. She's 13 years younger than me...so that is a bit strange. I prefer to date people who remember the 80's. lol. She slept in the spare bedroom & claimed a headache...after saying she could drink us all under the table. Ha! Maybe me--because I am a lightweight with drinking nowadays. But Sue? I've seen her drink a half a gallon of vodka & not even slur. There were a couple of times the 'new girl' contradicted herself into a corner with her own lies; I'm glad she lives far away. Not from jealousy, I get a vibe that she can create a ton of drama. My own warning bells go off when people don't have a driver's license, job or talk constantly how 'The Man is out to get them.' Ummm, yeah. We all have our own demons, but dang girl, try not to show up on Psycho Radar.
I'm still fighting with my insurance company for coverage of a med I've been on for over 3 years. I've been without it for three weeks as of today & I've made more than 20 phone calls about it to my dr's office and insurance company. Gee, no rush. Fuck it all, glad I only have *chronic, debilitating pain* rather than ya know--something serious. There have been a handful of moments where my brain has entertained thoughts of suicide because my pain level is that.fucking.bad. Oh sanity, where art thou? I cannot tell this to my primary dr--because I am paranoid that my ex could find out & use it against me in court/custody. The receptionist is a friend of his girlfriend and I can't ever let that be documented. I'm praying that it is cleared up today. I don't have minutes to spare on my stupid ass rape-me-by-the-minute cell phone. Plus, the weather changed drastically & I'm feeling it in my bones. I so need to move to a better climate.
I'm going to take a nap. Yay for rainy days & Mondays.
Friday, September 18, 2009
DAMMIT.
My laptop is still acting up & out of my realm of experience with fixing it. Grrr.
I'm going out with Roger & Sue Saturday--karaoke & girly bar & getting tipsy & staying over at their place--woohoo!!! I do love going to a strip bar--people watching & boobies & curves & YUMMMMM. And, of course, by all powers of the universe trying to dampen my fun--I started my cycle. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I don't want early menopause--I just want sex EVERY day without ick factor. And no chemicals or pig hormones--or whatever the hell they prescribe to not have a period. I'm all for nature doing it's thing--but dammit, it adds to a lot of laundry.
Having my tubes tied was LIBERATING. Sex without fear of getting knocked up--omg, it was exhilarating. I wouldn't encourage another woman to do it though, the long-term problems suck.
Another thing--the men I've dated over the last two years, they've all been previously married, with many women in their past...etc.. When I would say "I started" & pull away from them when they tried to put their hands down my pants--they look at me like I'm speaking a foreign language. What the hell? Do I have to spell it out EVERY TIME?
I just began saying "It's Blow Job Week." They all understood then & of course, loved it. Me? Whatever--get me off afterwards, because I give amazing blow jobs. Just simple courtesy, geez. Another point that always made me ponder--especially with living with someone--why am I expected to give a blow job every day of BJ Week--when the other 3 weeks, I'm begging for sex four times a week? (ok, probably more than 4, but dang...can't help it.)
I'm rambling, still fighting with my insurance company over covering meds & it's making me a bit off-kilter. Two weeks without a particular med makes me a BIT FUCKIN OUCHY.
Oh--and my 10 yr old son was just diagnosed as ADD. Welcome to my world son--I've been self-medicating for years. He'll get to go thru 2 shrinks & evaluations soon. I look at my 'perfect' kid & feel bad that I've passed on some of my worst traits/genes. I really, really don't want to medicate him--BUT--he's struggling with school and it's affecting his self-esteem to almost a depression. He's still 'just my baby' in my eyes. His whole ADD symptoms have been apparent since birth & especially when he started school, but I've just tucked them away in my head & said "That's just how he is, he has peculiarities."
The straw that finally broke me to take him to the dr was 2 weeks ago. He brought home 15 review problems in Math. He sat at the kitchen table while I tried EVERYTHING. Nudging his answers, giving him hints, yelling at him, promising him to have his friend over, BRIBING HIM WITH VIDEO GAMES--and he STILL struggled. I'm bawling because I yelled at him, he's bawling because I yelled at him. We were totally frustrated. 15 problems took him from 3 until 7:45. I called his teachers to ask for help--maybe they knew some tricks? Nope, they've tried it all too & they get the same results. This brilliant child--who has tested GENIUS and well ABOVE AVERAGE in ALL of his subjects---brought home 4 D's on his mid-terms.
I feel guilty that I didn't pursue it earlier. But in the last 3 and a half years--the stress level has been tremendous. Losing my dad instantly--who was EVERYTHING to my kids, my grandmother to Alzheimer's--a slow & painful death for all of us, especially watching such a proud, strong woman to lose her dignity & her mind, my uncle to a sudden cancer---and then all my back problems--struggling to WALK or get out of BED--and then a DIVORCE? Holy shit, it's no wonder I need depression meds.
Another pro-active thing I've done for my son--I signed him up for Boy Scouts. He was in for a while in 1st grade..but we just stopped going. Now I realize, he needs to be around MEN WHO AREN'T ASSHOLES. He needs "man-skills" and to know that there are men who DO care & don't treat people like his father treats him. I was a tom-boy when I was young, but there are just certain things that a mother cannot teach her son. I just feel this great pressure that I have to teach him how to be a GOOD man--but he does NOT have an example in his life. So..Boy Scouts it is. And they are going camping in two weeks & he CANNOT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.
So, that's what's going on here. Daughter & I are having a power struggle. She somehow thinks she's the boss. Whatever--are you 18 yet? Gahhh, she's so much like me--it's like yelling at my 16 yr old self in a mirror! (Not in looks, but in ATTITUDE & indignant behavior.)
But--girly bar--Saturday & booze. Yay me!
I'm going out with Roger & Sue Saturday--karaoke & girly bar & getting tipsy & staying over at their place--woohoo!!! I do love going to a strip bar--people watching & boobies & curves & YUMMMMM. And, of course, by all powers of the universe trying to dampen my fun--I started my cycle. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I don't want early menopause--I just want sex EVERY day without ick factor. And no chemicals or pig hormones--or whatever the hell they prescribe to not have a period. I'm all for nature doing it's thing--but dammit, it adds to a lot of laundry.
Having my tubes tied was LIBERATING. Sex without fear of getting knocked up--omg, it was exhilarating. I wouldn't encourage another woman to do it though, the long-term problems suck.
Another thing--the men I've dated over the last two years, they've all been previously married, with many women in their past...etc.. When I would say "I started" & pull away from them when they tried to put their hands down my pants--they look at me like I'm speaking a foreign language. What the hell? Do I have to spell it out EVERY TIME?
I just began saying "It's Blow Job Week." They all understood then & of course, loved it. Me? Whatever--get me off afterwards, because I give amazing blow jobs. Just simple courtesy, geez. Another point that always made me ponder--especially with living with someone--why am I expected to give a blow job every day of BJ Week--when the other 3 weeks, I'm begging for sex four times a week? (ok, probably more than 4, but dang...can't help it.)
I'm rambling, still fighting with my insurance company over covering meds & it's making me a bit off-kilter. Two weeks without a particular med makes me a BIT FUCKIN OUCHY.
Oh--and my 10 yr old son was just diagnosed as ADD. Welcome to my world son--I've been self-medicating for years. He'll get to go thru 2 shrinks & evaluations soon. I look at my 'perfect' kid & feel bad that I've passed on some of my worst traits/genes. I really, really don't want to medicate him--BUT--he's struggling with school and it's affecting his self-esteem to almost a depression. He's still 'just my baby' in my eyes. His whole ADD symptoms have been apparent since birth & especially when he started school, but I've just tucked them away in my head & said "That's just how he is, he has peculiarities."
The straw that finally broke me to take him to the dr was 2 weeks ago. He brought home 15 review problems in Math. He sat at the kitchen table while I tried EVERYTHING. Nudging his answers, giving him hints, yelling at him, promising him to have his friend over, BRIBING HIM WITH VIDEO GAMES--and he STILL struggled. I'm bawling because I yelled at him, he's bawling because I yelled at him. We were totally frustrated. 15 problems took him from 3 until 7:45. I called his teachers to ask for help--maybe they knew some tricks? Nope, they've tried it all too & they get the same results. This brilliant child--who has tested GENIUS and well ABOVE AVERAGE in ALL of his subjects---brought home 4 D's on his mid-terms.
I feel guilty that I didn't pursue it earlier. But in the last 3 and a half years--the stress level has been tremendous. Losing my dad instantly--who was EVERYTHING to my kids, my grandmother to Alzheimer's--a slow & painful death for all of us, especially watching such a proud, strong woman to lose her dignity & her mind, my uncle to a sudden cancer---and then all my back problems--struggling to WALK or get out of BED--and then a DIVORCE? Holy shit, it's no wonder I need depression meds.
Another pro-active thing I've done for my son--I signed him up for Boy Scouts. He was in for a while in 1st grade..but we just stopped going. Now I realize, he needs to be around MEN WHO AREN'T ASSHOLES. He needs "man-skills" and to know that there are men who DO care & don't treat people like his father treats him. I was a tom-boy when I was young, but there are just certain things that a mother cannot teach her son. I just feel this great pressure that I have to teach him how to be a GOOD man--but he does NOT have an example in his life. So..Boy Scouts it is. And they are going camping in two weeks & he CANNOT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.
So, that's what's going on here. Daughter & I are having a power struggle. She somehow thinks she's the boss. Whatever--are you 18 yet? Gahhh, she's so much like me--it's like yelling at my 16 yr old self in a mirror! (Not in looks, but in ATTITUDE & indignant behavior.)
But--girly bar--Saturday & booze. Yay me!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Another night
Another night of debauchery at Roger & Sue's house. I'm exhausted but sated. Sue took pictures---holy SHIT. I've seen them on the camera--but I'm afraid to upload them to the laptop until I can find an online photo site that I can protect. I can't use flickr unless I create another alter-ego through yahoo (pain in the ass!). Plus--I'm ULTRA PARANOID that my kids will someone come across them--so they can't go in a folder anywhere on my laptop & I have to get them off of my memory card ASAP!
So if anyone knows of a decent place to hide nekkid photos online--without yahoo involved--let me know! That way I can transfer a few over to here; after they are properly altered & made anonymous. I'm not sure that I'm going to tell Roger & Sue about this blog yet--I want to continue to be uncensored & not afraid to post something I'm feeling. Then again, it's not right to post pics without their consent either. Dilemma, yes it is! (plus all that bitching I did about dog-sitting--I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings!)
There is one pic of me mid-orgasm, my neck is craned, back arched--just riding out in bliss. I think that one may look good altered in black n white. Not sure yet! I'm still amazed at how small my tits are--I used to be a full C--now I'm BARELY a B. I now understand why women get boob jobs! There are 3 or 4 shots of my ass flaming red with Roger's hand mid-air. My favorite is of Roger on his back, me on my knees above him & he's got his hand clenching my neck, just that energy of that moment still sends shivers to all the right places. I do love this power-exchange, it's so intense. My neck is tender this morning & I'm hoping I don't bruise. My body is so bizarre with all of the fibro problems & steroid effects.
Roger manipulates my g-spot until there is NO DRY SPOT anywhere on the bed. Hell, I wasn't at their house 30 minutes & I'd drenched my jeans, wetness running down my legs. He was sitting on the couch, I'm standing in front of him, his mouth on my nipples and fingers cranking inside me. GD--what a rush, it's such a weird feeling, this squirting thing. I'm definitely enjoying it, but it's still kind of bizarre. I'm going to have to start packing clothes when I go over.
Sue wasn't feeling the greatest, but I could feel her hands on me & in me from time to time--in between pictures. I did kiss, nibble & suck on her tits while Roger was fingering her. It really takes a lot to get her off, she's always giggling when I get off 3 or 4 times in a row. Again? OMG REALLY? Hell, I can't help it!
Now that I'm home, drinking coffee....I miss them both. I want more...more closeness, more affection, more laughter, more spanking, more teasing...yep, yep, yep. More.
So if anyone knows of a decent place to hide nekkid photos online--without yahoo involved--let me know! That way I can transfer a few over to here; after they are properly altered & made anonymous. I'm not sure that I'm going to tell Roger & Sue about this blog yet--I want to continue to be uncensored & not afraid to post something I'm feeling. Then again, it's not right to post pics without their consent either. Dilemma, yes it is! (plus all that bitching I did about dog-sitting--I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings!)
There is one pic of me mid-orgasm, my neck is craned, back arched--just riding out in bliss. I think that one may look good altered in black n white. Not sure yet! I'm still amazed at how small my tits are--I used to be a full C--now I'm BARELY a B. I now understand why women get boob jobs! There are 3 or 4 shots of my ass flaming red with Roger's hand mid-air. My favorite is of Roger on his back, me on my knees above him & he's got his hand clenching my neck, just that energy of that moment still sends shivers to all the right places. I do love this power-exchange, it's so intense. My neck is tender this morning & I'm hoping I don't bruise. My body is so bizarre with all of the fibro problems & steroid effects.
Roger manipulates my g-spot until there is NO DRY SPOT anywhere on the bed. Hell, I wasn't at their house 30 minutes & I'd drenched my jeans, wetness running down my legs. He was sitting on the couch, I'm standing in front of him, his mouth on my nipples and fingers cranking inside me. GD--what a rush, it's such a weird feeling, this squirting thing. I'm definitely enjoying it, but it's still kind of bizarre. I'm going to have to start packing clothes when I go over.
Sue wasn't feeling the greatest, but I could feel her hands on me & in me from time to time--in between pictures. I did kiss, nibble & suck on her tits while Roger was fingering her. It really takes a lot to get her off, she's always giggling when I get off 3 or 4 times in a row. Again? OMG REALLY? Hell, I can't help it!
Now that I'm home, drinking coffee....I miss them both. I want more...more closeness, more affection, more laughter, more spanking, more teasing...yep, yep, yep. More.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
My guitar
I mentioned I've been picking up the guitar again. My mom gave me my twelve-string Yamaha back. I sold it to my dad when my daughter was born so I could buy diapers and he promised I could have it back when I re-paid him. Slacker that I am--I never had the money to re-pay him. He passed away three years ago & my mom is ready to have her space in that room without ancient Fender amplifiers & cheap guitars. lol.
Anyway, I am progressively getting a bit better. I pulled out my old books of tablature (sp?) that my former teacher wrote out. I struggle with it--it has NEVER came naturally to me. I prefer finger-picking over any other style. Over the years, I've taught myself to play some of my favorite songs & just played them over & over. A lot of the songs my teacher was into--it was the late 80's--are obsolete to many people. He enjoyed heavy metal & I wanted to learn oldies! lol. I've got an eclectic collection of tabs--so if I ever got the nerve to play in front of someone--they wouldn't know the song. lol. In all my 38 years--I've only played in front of my kids or my roommate in college. Once I played for my mom when I was around 19, but never again since then. I'm just so shy about it because I KNOW I suck! lol. Oh wait--I was at a party when I was around 20, all my guy friends were musicians--I played a couple licks & then imitated them immediately. I was blown away--how do people DO that??? So I put it down quickly & just enjoyed watching them play. Now they are all in bands & get PAID, make some indie cd's & work their P/R. Cool cool.
When I was about 10, my dad would take me with him to his banjo lessons. He was never that great at playing guitar--but he thought he was. lol. I did learn some of his licks & still play them from time to time. What irritated him about the banjo lessons was--I could pick up the guitar afterwards & play the lesson from what I watched. Dad was amazed & irritated at the same time.
My twelve-string--ohhhh, I forgot how BEAUTIFUL it sounds. The chords echo, the strings are smooth & easy to play. I got cold chills it was just that reverberating--like the sound came to life. So I have to get over this struggle & really start to force myself to learn new songs. I'm working on Greensleeves now---I love love love folk music. Give me Dylan, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Melanie, Mamas & Papas, Simon & Garfunkel, Peter, Paul & Mary---and I'm in a GREAT mood. The harmonies are just mind-blowing. It helps that my first real job was at a radio station that played 50's & 60's Solid Gold & I started snitching my parents albums when I was about 7. I've got them all now---Original Rolling Stones, Beatles, Steppenwolf---and I still love the crackly-crappy sound. It takes me back to my childhood--trying to drop little bits of water on the needle to reduce the crackly-sound. lol.
I guess that is something that bugs me about my kids. They love their music. Daughter has an iPod, son has an mp3 player. There's a radio or stereo in most rooms of our house. But they are not as OBSESSED with music as I am. I used to put my cd player speakers on my belly when I was pregnant, we always have music playing in the background in the kitchen. But they aren't as MOVED by certain songs as I am. I've taken them to live shows & they do LOVE it, but I don't see the SPARK that I had at that age. When I was from 7 to 10--I was in love with the Beatles, my parents bought me the White Album for my 10th birthday. My 14 yr old cousin asked me "Paul McCartney was in a band before WINGS?" I was mortified & totally stopped looking up to her. I couldn't FATHOM how she didn't know who the Beatles were.
I just went in to turn on the record player & daughter was cranky & unresponsive. I listened to No Sugar Tonight--the long version. Oh I love that song. Anyway, music moves me. It can put me in a great mood or even make me melancholy. It's so emotional. I love everything from Jerry Lee Lewis to Nickelback to Aerosmith (my favorite!!) to Willie Nelson to Nirvana to Nine Inch Nails. It's all good to me.
One of my elusive musicians I love--is a man from Texas. He's big there around Austin, D/F/W & Houston, but not a national well-known. His name is Shake Russell and the first song I heard of his--I broke down in TEARS. He's kind of country/ kind of rock--just a great, GREAT musician & lyricist.
I found him through a messenger friend I met in a chat room around 10 years ago. The chat room was Married But Flirting. lmfao! We totally hit it off & still talk to this day. He's known intimate things about my life that I've never told ANYONE. But he told me about how he loved going to live shows of Shake Russell and I had to download it from Napster. (back when Napster was COOL).
Ok, going to get in that shower NOW, times a wastin'! Gonna crank the stereo & get busy!
Anyway, I am progressively getting a bit better. I pulled out my old books of tablature (sp?) that my former teacher wrote out. I struggle with it--it has NEVER came naturally to me. I prefer finger-picking over any other style. Over the years, I've taught myself to play some of my favorite songs & just played them over & over. A lot of the songs my teacher was into--it was the late 80's--are obsolete to many people. He enjoyed heavy metal & I wanted to learn oldies! lol. I've got an eclectic collection of tabs--so if I ever got the nerve to play in front of someone--they wouldn't know the song. lol. In all my 38 years--I've only played in front of my kids or my roommate in college. Once I played for my mom when I was around 19, but never again since then. I'm just so shy about it because I KNOW I suck! lol. Oh wait--I was at a party when I was around 20, all my guy friends were musicians--I played a couple licks & then imitated them immediately. I was blown away--how do people DO that??? So I put it down quickly & just enjoyed watching them play. Now they are all in bands & get PAID, make some indie cd's & work their P/R. Cool cool.
When I was about 10, my dad would take me with him to his banjo lessons. He was never that great at playing guitar--but he thought he was. lol. I did learn some of his licks & still play them from time to time. What irritated him about the banjo lessons was--I could pick up the guitar afterwards & play the lesson from what I watched. Dad was amazed & irritated at the same time.
My twelve-string--ohhhh, I forgot how BEAUTIFUL it sounds. The chords echo, the strings are smooth & easy to play. I got cold chills it was just that reverberating--like the sound came to life. So I have to get over this struggle & really start to force myself to learn new songs. I'm working on Greensleeves now---I love love love folk music. Give me Dylan, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Melanie, Mamas & Papas, Simon & Garfunkel, Peter, Paul & Mary---and I'm in a GREAT mood. The harmonies are just mind-blowing. It helps that my first real job was at a radio station that played 50's & 60's Solid Gold & I started snitching my parents albums when I was about 7. I've got them all now---Original Rolling Stones, Beatles, Steppenwolf---and I still love the crackly-crappy sound. It takes me back to my childhood--trying to drop little bits of water on the needle to reduce the crackly-sound. lol.
I guess that is something that bugs me about my kids. They love their music. Daughter has an iPod, son has an mp3 player. There's a radio or stereo in most rooms of our house. But they are not as OBSESSED with music as I am. I used to put my cd player speakers on my belly when I was pregnant, we always have music playing in the background in the kitchen. But they aren't as MOVED by certain songs as I am. I've taken them to live shows & they do LOVE it, but I don't see the SPARK that I had at that age. When I was from 7 to 10--I was in love with the Beatles, my parents bought me the White Album for my 10th birthday. My 14 yr old cousin asked me "Paul McCartney was in a band before WINGS?" I was mortified & totally stopped looking up to her. I couldn't FATHOM how she didn't know who the Beatles were.
I just went in to turn on the record player & daughter was cranky & unresponsive. I listened to No Sugar Tonight--the long version. Oh I love that song. Anyway, music moves me. It can put me in a great mood or even make me melancholy. It's so emotional. I love everything from Jerry Lee Lewis to Nickelback to Aerosmith (my favorite!!) to Willie Nelson to Nirvana to Nine Inch Nails. It's all good to me.
One of my elusive musicians I love--is a man from Texas. He's big there around Austin, D/F/W & Houston, but not a national well-known. His name is Shake Russell and the first song I heard of his--I broke down in TEARS. He's kind of country/ kind of rock--just a great, GREAT musician & lyricist.
I found him through a messenger friend I met in a chat room around 10 years ago. The chat room was Married But Flirting. lmfao! We totally hit it off & still talk to this day. He's known intimate things about my life that I've never told ANYONE. But he told me about how he loved going to live shows of Shake Russell and I had to download it from Napster. (back when Napster was COOL).
Ok, going to get in that shower NOW, times a wastin'! Gonna crank the stereo & get busy!
Damn laptop
Either my cord or my battery is FRIED, so I've been WITHOUT INTERNET. Omg, I started playing guitar again--I've been THAT out of sorts! It works intermittently--& then shuts off & won't turn back on for hours. And a new laptop cord is $95 bucks! Holy moly--that's damn near what we live off of in a WEEK. It's impossible to save money when you barely scrape by.
Anyway--I've been having LOTS of FUN with Roger & Sue. Threesomes & spankings & fuckings & OMG--the ORGASMS. I feel like a goddess in a threesome with both of them working me over finger-fucking me or spanking me or torturing my nipples. And I'm going over to their house tonight. WoooHOOOO.
Last weekend, we all got really drunk & Roger pushed me to my limit & I ended up a sobbing, snotting mess. It was cathartic and cleansing. Every emotion I've held back came bubbling up to the surface and spilled out in tears. Being fucked hard, spanked, used---it was INTENSE. He held me & petted me, whispered beautiful things while I shook in his arms. I can't even describe how healing it was.
He keeps telling me he loves me & that worries me. I'm new to this poly gig--I think it's awesome, but I'm afraid of loving this married couple. I want them to remain my friends--whether we are all fucking or not. I do love them both, I enjoy spending time & talking, hanging out--they are so intelligent & funny. I don't know--the "love' word is giving me some resignations.
Roger being my dom is altogether a great thing right now. I enjoy his power & the sex is amazing. He helps me feel 'not so lost' - if that makes any sense. I guess I'm still a bit connected to Jack--in my subby head. I don't want to sound desperate, but it is a good feeling 'being owned'.
Sue & Roger both are encouraging me to go to a swinger's club and trying to think of who I'd like to go out with--combing the online dating sites & their group of friends. I sooooo do not have the nerve to go to a swinger's club...but I think watching would be very hot. I've not been an open slut--only to relationships. It's all new territory, inviting & terrifying at the same time!
Their birthdays are coming up & they are planning an orgy with their group of friends. I've not met their friends, but have heard much about them. They are all friends of Jack too--so I'm sure it will eventually get back to him. Roger keeps telling me he's going to order me to fuck his friend while I blow him. Yikessss! I'm definitely going to need some shots of Crown to get that kind of courage.
In any case, I'm still alive & hoping this post comes through. I never know how long the laptop is going to work! I hate how obsessed with the pc I've become--it's my LIFELINE and I'm totally addicted. I've even been running to my mom's to catch up on my messenger friends. I'm pathetic, I realize that! Whatever--most of my friends LIVE on the internets.
Gotta get to the liquor store & pick up my bi-monthly bottle of YUMMMY. It's good that I'm a lightweight with booze now--because I can't afford to be an alcoholic--(like I used to be.) I used to drink a 5th each weekend--but now all I need is 4 or 5 shots & I'm grooooovyyyy. Groovy is cool ;) and much, much cheaper. When I can't afford Crown Royal, I've been buying Canadian Club--it's a bit harsher going down, but the effects are the same. I have to have a soda to sip when I'm drinking CC. With Crown--I just hit shots like a seasoned drinker. lol. It's just so tasty to me.
My insurance company has decided to fuck with me & not cover my pain patches. I've been off of them a week now & it HURTS to BE IN MY SKIN. I've not had withdrawals--but damn, I hurt hurt hurt. Even in the shower---the water hitting my shoulders--it's painful. Fibromyalgia SUCKS!!!! But the endorphins I'll be getting later today--will keep me floating for 2 or 3 days. I think there needs to be more research on how BDSM, subspace & endorphins can help chronic pain patients. Finding a doctor who would believe it would be a problem though. Oh well--one of these days.
Ok, off to get in the shower, I'll be back when my laptop allows it!
Anyway--I've been having LOTS of FUN with Roger & Sue. Threesomes & spankings & fuckings & OMG--the ORGASMS. I feel like a goddess in a threesome with both of them working me over finger-fucking me or spanking me or torturing my nipples. And I'm going over to their house tonight. WoooHOOOO.
Last weekend, we all got really drunk & Roger pushed me to my limit & I ended up a sobbing, snotting mess. It was cathartic and cleansing. Every emotion I've held back came bubbling up to the surface and spilled out in tears. Being fucked hard, spanked, used---it was INTENSE. He held me & petted me, whispered beautiful things while I shook in his arms. I can't even describe how healing it was.
He keeps telling me he loves me & that worries me. I'm new to this poly gig--I think it's awesome, but I'm afraid of loving this married couple. I want them to remain my friends--whether we are all fucking or not. I do love them both, I enjoy spending time & talking, hanging out--they are so intelligent & funny. I don't know--the "love' word is giving me some resignations.
Roger being my dom is altogether a great thing right now. I enjoy his power & the sex is amazing. He helps me feel 'not so lost' - if that makes any sense. I guess I'm still a bit connected to Jack--in my subby head. I don't want to sound desperate, but it is a good feeling 'being owned'.
Sue & Roger both are encouraging me to go to a swinger's club and trying to think of who I'd like to go out with--combing the online dating sites & their group of friends. I sooooo do not have the nerve to go to a swinger's club...but I think watching would be very hot. I've not been an open slut--only to relationships. It's all new territory, inviting & terrifying at the same time!
Their birthdays are coming up & they are planning an orgy with their group of friends. I've not met their friends, but have heard much about them. They are all friends of Jack too--so I'm sure it will eventually get back to him. Roger keeps telling me he's going to order me to fuck his friend while I blow him. Yikessss! I'm definitely going to need some shots of Crown to get that kind of courage.
In any case, I'm still alive & hoping this post comes through. I never know how long the laptop is going to work! I hate how obsessed with the pc I've become--it's my LIFELINE and I'm totally addicted. I've even been running to my mom's to catch up on my messenger friends. I'm pathetic, I realize that! Whatever--most of my friends LIVE on the internets.
Gotta get to the liquor store & pick up my bi-monthly bottle of YUMMMY. It's good that I'm a lightweight with booze now--because I can't afford to be an alcoholic--(like I used to be.) I used to drink a 5th each weekend--but now all I need is 4 or 5 shots & I'm grooooovyyyy. Groovy is cool ;) and much, much cheaper. When I can't afford Crown Royal, I've been buying Canadian Club--it's a bit harsher going down, but the effects are the same. I have to have a soda to sip when I'm drinking CC. With Crown--I just hit shots like a seasoned drinker. lol. It's just so tasty to me.
My insurance company has decided to fuck with me & not cover my pain patches. I've been off of them a week now & it HURTS to BE IN MY SKIN. I've not had withdrawals--but damn, I hurt hurt hurt. Even in the shower---the water hitting my shoulders--it's painful. Fibromyalgia SUCKS!!!! But the endorphins I'll be getting later today--will keep me floating for 2 or 3 days. I think there needs to be more research on how BDSM, subspace & endorphins can help chronic pain patients. Finding a doctor who would believe it would be a problem though. Oh well--one of these days.
Ok, off to get in the shower, I'll be back when my laptop allows it!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
missing
my body misses his at night. i reach for him in my sleep & only find his pillow, my only solace his scent. i bury my face deeper to inhale the memories made here. the laughter, the lovemaking, the giggling & the spanking.
god, i miss being in the nook of his shoulder, our bodies flesh to flesh, my hand resting on his chest so I can feel his heart rhythmically beat against my palm. As he starts to drift off to sleep, his breathing deepens and soothes me off to sleep.
When he rolls over towards me, I turn to my side. I push my hips firmly against his, his arm surrounds me, his hand tucked beneath me, holding me tight. I feel so loved, protected & grounded. I miss the weight of his arm against my ribs. Sometimes at night I roll up blankets and tuck them around me to try & remember how it feels.
And do you know what I realized? It's not Jack I'm missing in my bed. It's a man. Not Jack--not my ex-husband, not an ex-fuck buddy, not anyone specifically. I just miss snuggling & sleeping beside a man.
Friday night Roger & Sue came over and they ended up spending the night. Roger snuggled & cuddled me off to sleep. Sue slept on the other side while I was in the middle. It was wonderful. (and boy do I have a whole 'nuther story about Friday night--wooohooo)
My next lover? I hope he's prepared, because I'm going to waller & snuggle & cuddle until he thinks I'm attached to him. I can't wait.
god, i miss being in the nook of his shoulder, our bodies flesh to flesh, my hand resting on his chest so I can feel his heart rhythmically beat against my palm. As he starts to drift off to sleep, his breathing deepens and soothes me off to sleep.
When he rolls over towards me, I turn to my side. I push my hips firmly against his, his arm surrounds me, his hand tucked beneath me, holding me tight. I feel so loved, protected & grounded. I miss the weight of his arm against my ribs. Sometimes at night I roll up blankets and tuck them around me to try & remember how it feels.
And do you know what I realized? It's not Jack I'm missing in my bed. It's a man. Not Jack--not my ex-husband, not an ex-fuck buddy, not anyone specifically. I just miss snuggling & sleeping beside a man.
Friday night Roger & Sue came over and they ended up spending the night. Roger snuggled & cuddled me off to sleep. Sue slept on the other side while I was in the middle. It was wonderful. (and boy do I have a whole 'nuther story about Friday night--wooohooo)
My next lover? I hope he's prepared, because I'm going to waller & snuggle & cuddle until he thinks I'm attached to him. I can't wait.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
my tweet won't go thru
So i'm posting it HERE dang it.
"when i see the abbreviation CBT, my 1st thought is cognative behavioral therapy. And then a lightbulb appears. Ohhhh THAT CBT."
I spent the day masturbating. And I could go for a couple more but the kids will be home soon. I should get dressed now & hide the sex toys & fold laundry.
I've been thinking about prostitution lately. Sex is pretty much my only marketable skill. The things that holds me back the most? Serial killers & jail. Ok and smelly people--that's a big turn-off.
Anyway, gotta hide the dildo ;)
"when i see the abbreviation CBT, my 1st thought is cognative behavioral therapy. And then a lightbulb appears. Ohhhh THAT CBT."
I spent the day masturbating. And I could go for a couple more but the kids will be home soon. I should get dressed now & hide the sex toys & fold laundry.
I've been thinking about prostitution lately. Sex is pretty much my only marketable skill. The things that holds me back the most? Serial killers & jail. Ok and smelly people--that's a big turn-off.
Anyway, gotta hide the dildo ;)
Assignment & Confession
I've been given an assignment.
I'm still talking & teasing with Jack online.
He wants me to masturbate twice daily until I can find my 'squirt button'.
He wants me to ejaculate while I'm sitting on his lap. He wants to feel my warm juices explode and drip down his hard cock.
What he doesn't know is--I can do this pretty much within minutes by myself. I'm not able to squirt buckets like some girls can, however there is definitely a puddle. What holds me back is trust. I don't have this bond of trust with him that will allow me to give it. I have a mental block that stops me from sharing it with him--(part of it goes back to a former fuckbuddy who thought I peed on him. That was fun explaining in the midst of fucking. Former F.B. had the perfect bend in his cock that slammed against my g-spot--I do wonder what he's up to now. :D Once F.B. figured out it was a GREAT thing, he was into it. )
I have a confession to make. It's deceitful, misleading and I'm ashamed. I faked it. Yes--I faked orgasms with Jack more often than not. Even in the beginning when I was falling in love with him & we were experimenting & he was trying to train me to come on command. I feel really awful about it and I'll never tell him--but now, it's been so long & he knows my body (or thinks he does) and I can't turn back. I have orgasm guilt and it sucks.
In ten months of dating, fucking, living together for 6 months--I faked them all except for the first time we had sex. I was sitting in his lap (see a pattern here? I love sitting on a man's lap) in the backyard in a rickety lawn chair. He handed me the bullet vibe to hold on my clit while he fingered me. I came so hard that a moan escaped--loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Within seconds, there was a puddle on his jeans and he was hooked.
We did have lots of great sex--don't get me wrong. I felt pressured to perform. While fucking or using toys on me, he would ask 'was that three?' and I wouldn't disagree.
There were many times after he went to sleep, all I had to do was touch my clit & I would explode. I would roll over at the same time so he wouldn't feel my hips bucking or my knees shaking. But for some reason, I couldn't give him this part of me.
Other times, I would wake myself up at night with my hands in my panties, completely wet & turned on. I could get to my orgasm without him even waking up. Sometimes I'd go to the couch because I didn't want to get caught shaking the bed & my body was in the mood for multiples.
I'll be seeing him later this week or early next. I don't know if I can remove the mental block to actually ejaculate on him. I want to--but sometimes my brain is more in control of my orgasms & squirting than my physical manipulations are. I get close & then my brain shuts off that valve. For me, orgasms are just as much mental as physical.
Is it because I love him? Nah-it could cloud it a bit because I don't want to disappoint him. I have been in love & been able to ejaculate with others before him. I don't know, all I can say is--I feel pressured. And he doesn't like dirty talk during sex--that's one thing that gets me fired up, I can get so close without penetration or clit action. Just whispering nasty, naughty ideas in my ear & I will literally be on the edge of an explosion, muscles twitching & puddling. When I'd beg for him to talk dirty, he'd either shush me or get into breath play-(that's one way to shut me up lol). He always said talking during foreplay or sex distracted him, so I just dropped it.
And I hate myself for faking it. Sometimes I was really tired, sometimes I'd ask him to do this or that, sometimes I was bored from the same position too often, sometimes he was so close to getting off that I could squeeze my kegels and milk his orgasm from him. (I do love having that capability. It's my only super power. Ok, I take that back--blow jobs are another one of my super powers. lol)
I'm grabbing my generic hitachi & a towel. I need to get off NOW.
I'm still talking & teasing with Jack online.
He wants me to masturbate twice daily until I can find my 'squirt button'.
He wants me to ejaculate while I'm sitting on his lap. He wants to feel my warm juices explode and drip down his hard cock.
What he doesn't know is--I can do this pretty much within minutes by myself. I'm not able to squirt buckets like some girls can, however there is definitely a puddle. What holds me back is trust. I don't have this bond of trust with him that will allow me to give it. I have a mental block that stops me from sharing it with him--(part of it goes back to a former fuckbuddy who thought I peed on him. That was fun explaining in the midst of fucking. Former F.B. had the perfect bend in his cock that slammed against my g-spot--I do wonder what he's up to now. :D Once F.B. figured out it was a GREAT thing, he was into it. )
I have a confession to make. It's deceitful, misleading and I'm ashamed. I faked it. Yes--I faked orgasms with Jack more often than not. Even in the beginning when I was falling in love with him & we were experimenting & he was trying to train me to come on command. I feel really awful about it and I'll never tell him--but now, it's been so long & he knows my body (or thinks he does) and I can't turn back. I have orgasm guilt and it sucks.
In ten months of dating, fucking, living together for 6 months--I faked them all except for the first time we had sex. I was sitting in his lap (see a pattern here? I love sitting on a man's lap) in the backyard in a rickety lawn chair. He handed me the bullet vibe to hold on my clit while he fingered me. I came so hard that a moan escaped--loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Within seconds, there was a puddle on his jeans and he was hooked.
We did have lots of great sex--don't get me wrong. I felt pressured to perform. While fucking or using toys on me, he would ask 'was that three?' and I wouldn't disagree.
There were many times after he went to sleep, all I had to do was touch my clit & I would explode. I would roll over at the same time so he wouldn't feel my hips bucking or my knees shaking. But for some reason, I couldn't give him this part of me.
Other times, I would wake myself up at night with my hands in my panties, completely wet & turned on. I could get to my orgasm without him even waking up. Sometimes I'd go to the couch because I didn't want to get caught shaking the bed & my body was in the mood for multiples.
I'll be seeing him later this week or early next. I don't know if I can remove the mental block to actually ejaculate on him. I want to--but sometimes my brain is more in control of my orgasms & squirting than my physical manipulations are. I get close & then my brain shuts off that valve. For me, orgasms are just as much mental as physical.
Is it because I love him? Nah-it could cloud it a bit because I don't want to disappoint him. I have been in love & been able to ejaculate with others before him. I don't know, all I can say is--I feel pressured. And he doesn't like dirty talk during sex--that's one thing that gets me fired up, I can get so close without penetration or clit action. Just whispering nasty, naughty ideas in my ear & I will literally be on the edge of an explosion, muscles twitching & puddling. When I'd beg for him to talk dirty, he'd either shush me or get into breath play-(that's one way to shut me up lol). He always said talking during foreplay or sex distracted him, so I just dropped it.
And I hate myself for faking it. Sometimes I was really tired, sometimes I'd ask him to do this or that, sometimes I was bored from the same position too often, sometimes he was so close to getting off that I could squeeze my kegels and milk his orgasm from him. (I do love having that capability. It's my only super power. Ok, I take that back--blow jobs are another one of my super powers. lol)
I'm grabbing my generic hitachi & a towel. I need to get off NOW.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Biker Catharsis
Just a few moments ago, I heard a rumble outside, peeked out the window to see a police escort of nearly 150 people on motorcycles. I grabbed my son & we ran to the front porch to watch. The leaders of the ride were big, battle-scarred, burly men dressed in leather -head to toe. With tears rolling down their faces.
Chills rocked to my core. A few of the women waved to my son--who was saluting them. My hand went to my heart because it felt like it was being pulled out of my body with emotion. Pride. Love. Empathy. Human connection. Several of the riders I knew nodded to me, they winked at my son solemnly saluting them. For some strange reason, I felt that they approved of me--raising a son who knew by instinct that he had to honor them somehow.
By the time they passed, my face was streaming in tears. The rumbling faded into the distance and I turned to walk in my door. I walked into my bedroom, flopped on my bed face down in my pillow to sob. My heart breaking for many things, this catharsis flooded over me--not just because of the riders, but for the people I've lost in my life, for the sadness of this summer when I held my daughter's hand during her abortion, the injustice of watching my child struggle with the biggest and most difficult, haunting decision of her life, the bad luck that has followed me throughout the last several years, the poverty level that we live at is not fair to my children--but my body is too broken to hold a job, the shame of begging for food at the pantry, the sneers I am attacked by at the grocery store when I use my food stamp card, the doctors accusing me of being an addict--of the very same medication they gave me, the guilt I feel when I tell my kids "sorry, we can't afford it," every.little.thing.that.has.ever.gone.wrong--it spilled out into keening & soul-wrenching sobs.
These people are family to each other. They were bonding together to raise money for a woman biker who has cancer, no health insurance but her 'family' has hope. Hope that she will have the strength for this battle. Hope that she will make it through chemo. Hope that she will ride again with them.
Hope.
Bikers get a bad rap. My dad's best friend when I was 2 was my first 'biker friend.' I remember the very first time I met him, he was So.Cool. He was 4'11", tattooed from neck to his feet, a ZZ Topp beard and a leather "Bowery Boy" hat. He partied too much but had the most amazing stories. When he showed up, I'd jump into his lap & make him flex his bicep to see the Naked Lady dance. (My mother was flipped out that I'd even go NEAR him.) After he'd leave, I'd make my dad draw tattoos on my forearms. I vividly remember begging for a tattoo until my parents' ears bled. The begging continued all of my childhood years--which is why once I turned 18, I got one. My mom was shocked when it went through the gossip grapevine & called me names, saying that "Women With Tattoos are Trashy. How could you? You better had hope your dad doesn't find out." She eventually got over it, although she gets a little wild-eyed when I mention the next one I plan to get. (I would have done it by now, but money for food seems to be a priority over me getting more ink. lol)
Anyway, I'm rambling. Back to bikers getting a bad rap. Society has tried to outcast this group of people for decades. Too loud. Too rough. Too much alcohol or drug abuse. Too wild. Too dangerous. Too non-conformist. Whatever.
I'm drawn to my memories of sitting in my "Uncle Biker's" lap & laughing until my belly muscles hurt. He was my first living teddy bear. He let me drag him into my bedroom for tea parties. He had the biggest heart I'd ever seen. He let me hang around in the garage while he worked on his bike & hand him tools. He was the first one to show up when I wrecked my dad's truck at 16 to help put it back together--all the while calling me a dumbass. He offered to kick my ex-boyfriends ass at 17 because he broke my heart. He gave me an old tool box filled with some extras he had lying around for my graduation present. (In the bottom drawer was a flask of whiskey & two joints---I never did figure out how he knew--he just did. My parents would have had a Conniption F.I.T.) But I always knew I could go to him with my problems, he'd either laugh at me or help me figure out a plan. He died about 5 years ago. I miss him almost as much as I miss my dad.
When I'm in a store and I see mother's pulling their child closer to them because of a leather-clad, tattooed biker. I am appalled at her behavior. I cringe at the invisible slap in the face he just received. I can't imagine judging someone by their appearance. If anything, I'm more leary of starting up a conversation with a June Cleaver type person, than a person with tattoos & a motorcycle.
We are all on this planet, surviving, trying to get ahead, looking for connections, making friends, enjoying family and just enjoying life. I am more moved by Biker Rallies for Charity than I am by the Golf Outings or the 5K runs. Because I've seen inside their hearts, I've been touched by their souls. I know in a heartbeat who of my friends will be here to help me when I need it the most. And it won't be the phony Christian neighbor with her awful casserole & a hallmark card. It'll be my friend Snake & his wife--showing up with food for the BBQ, maybe a couple of beers, maybe a bottle of Crown & they'll hug me when I need it the most and make me laugh through my tears.
When tragedy knocks me down again, I will hear that familiar rumbling of a Harley and know that I'm going to be all right. I am blessed. I have been touched by humanity. In my world, it just so happens to be teddy bears in disguise--tattooed & dressed in leathers.
Chills rocked to my core. A few of the women waved to my son--who was saluting them. My hand went to my heart because it felt like it was being pulled out of my body with emotion. Pride. Love. Empathy. Human connection. Several of the riders I knew nodded to me, they winked at my son solemnly saluting them. For some strange reason, I felt that they approved of me--raising a son who knew by instinct that he had to honor them somehow.
By the time they passed, my face was streaming in tears. The rumbling faded into the distance and I turned to walk in my door. I walked into my bedroom, flopped on my bed face down in my pillow to sob. My heart breaking for many things, this catharsis flooded over me--not just because of the riders, but for the people I've lost in my life, for the sadness of this summer when I held my daughter's hand during her abortion, the injustice of watching my child struggle with the biggest and most difficult, haunting decision of her life, the bad luck that has followed me throughout the last several years, the poverty level that we live at is not fair to my children--but my body is too broken to hold a job, the shame of begging for food at the pantry, the sneers I am attacked by at the grocery store when I use my food stamp card, the doctors accusing me of being an addict--of the very same medication they gave me, the guilt I feel when I tell my kids "sorry, we can't afford it," every.little.thing.that.has.ever.gone.wrong--it spilled out into keening & soul-wrenching sobs.
These people are family to each other. They were bonding together to raise money for a woman biker who has cancer, no health insurance but her 'family' has hope. Hope that she will have the strength for this battle. Hope that she will make it through chemo. Hope that she will ride again with them.
Hope.
Bikers get a bad rap. My dad's best friend when I was 2 was my first 'biker friend.' I remember the very first time I met him, he was So.Cool. He was 4'11", tattooed from neck to his feet, a ZZ Topp beard and a leather "Bowery Boy" hat. He partied too much but had the most amazing stories. When he showed up, I'd jump into his lap & make him flex his bicep to see the Naked Lady dance. (My mother was flipped out that I'd even go NEAR him.) After he'd leave, I'd make my dad draw tattoos on my forearms. I vividly remember begging for a tattoo until my parents' ears bled. The begging continued all of my childhood years--which is why once I turned 18, I got one. My mom was shocked when it went through the gossip grapevine & called me names, saying that "Women With Tattoos are Trashy. How could you? You better had hope your dad doesn't find out." She eventually got over it, although she gets a little wild-eyed when I mention the next one I plan to get. (I would have done it by now, but money for food seems to be a priority over me getting more ink. lol)
Anyway, I'm rambling. Back to bikers getting a bad rap. Society has tried to outcast this group of people for decades. Too loud. Too rough. Too much alcohol or drug abuse. Too wild. Too dangerous. Too non-conformist. Whatever.
I'm drawn to my memories of sitting in my "Uncle Biker's" lap & laughing until my belly muscles hurt. He was my first living teddy bear. He let me drag him into my bedroom for tea parties. He had the biggest heart I'd ever seen. He let me hang around in the garage while he worked on his bike & hand him tools. He was the first one to show up when I wrecked my dad's truck at 16 to help put it back together--all the while calling me a dumbass. He offered to kick my ex-boyfriends ass at 17 because he broke my heart. He gave me an old tool box filled with some extras he had lying around for my graduation present. (In the bottom drawer was a flask of whiskey & two joints---I never did figure out how he knew--he just did. My parents would have had a Conniption F.I.T.) But I always knew I could go to him with my problems, he'd either laugh at me or help me figure out a plan. He died about 5 years ago. I miss him almost as much as I miss my dad.
When I'm in a store and I see mother's pulling their child closer to them because of a leather-clad, tattooed biker. I am appalled at her behavior. I cringe at the invisible slap in the face he just received. I can't imagine judging someone by their appearance. If anything, I'm more leary of starting up a conversation with a June Cleaver type person, than a person with tattoos & a motorcycle.
We are all on this planet, surviving, trying to get ahead, looking for connections, making friends, enjoying family and just enjoying life. I am more moved by Biker Rallies for Charity than I am by the Golf Outings or the 5K runs. Because I've seen inside their hearts, I've been touched by their souls. I know in a heartbeat who of my friends will be here to help me when I need it the most. And it won't be the phony Christian neighbor with her awful casserole & a hallmark card. It'll be my friend Snake & his wife--showing up with food for the BBQ, maybe a couple of beers, maybe a bottle of Crown & they'll hug me when I need it the most and make me laugh through my tears.
When tragedy knocks me down again, I will hear that familiar rumbling of a Harley and know that I'm going to be all right. I am blessed. I have been touched by humanity. In my world, it just so happens to be teddy bears in disguise--tattooed & dressed in leathers.
Friday, August 21, 2009
I'll be back soon
I'm having some major issues with my laptop. It stalls & has been overheating so badly that I can only run it with sitting on an ICE PACK. I do have a fan underneath it all ready. My guess is--the innards are stuffed full of cigarette ashes and cookie crumbs. I've got to go buy a can of compressed air later today & hopefully that will dislodge some of the gunk.
Wouldn't hurt to run thru all of my virus & defrag programs as well. And I update every other day--because this version of Vista is LeSuck. Never in the 11 years of owning a pc has a system constantly required updates. But at the time I bought this one, you couldn't buy a laptop without Vista on it. And I'm not smart enough to wipe it out & put a different OS on it. I need friends who are computer techs and work for cheap-to-free!
I'll be back soon--promise!
Wouldn't hurt to run thru all of my virus & defrag programs as well. And I update every other day--because this version of Vista is LeSuck. Never in the 11 years of owning a pc has a system constantly required updates. But at the time I bought this one, you couldn't buy a laptop without Vista on it. And I'm not smart enough to wipe it out & put a different OS on it. I need friends who are computer techs and work for cheap-to-free!
I'll be back soon--promise!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Step 2 - BadBadGirl's Big Bad Contest
BadBadGirl's Big Bad Contest - Step 2
It took me three days to build my wishlist over at eXtremeRestraints.com . I want it all! Especially the Ursula Reversible Corset. And the Classic School Girl Uniform.
Restraints, Books & Dildos Oh My! It will make it easier when I find my sugarDaddy so I can easily be spoiled. Hahahaha. Reality check has all ready been cashed--it bounced! No need to laugh at my expense. Ok, go ahead, I don't mind one bit. (I may not be making much sense because, once again, I've not slept in 50 hours. My brain needs a nap.)
So if there are any secret benefactors with a disposable income on this crazy planet, here is the link to my wish list. Hey, if you're going to wish then wish BIG! Plus, a bonus of me having these outfits? I could do one of those really hot-bathroom-mirror pics like all the teenagers do on myspace. And the other 20+ things on my wishlist? They'd just make me happy. That's all. I like happy.
And~since I can't get the Awesome Prize chart to show up correctly~ please use this link & go to BadBadGirl's BigBadContest post to see how it all works. The more people that enter--the MORE PRIZES will be given to the Luckiest Person Evah.
http://bbgblog.com/2009/08/bbgs-big-bad-contest-the-grand-fucking-prize/
DO IT. I command thee! If you don't have a blog--GET ONE. Tell your friends!
It took me three days to build my wishlist over at eXtremeRestraints.com . I want it all! Especially the Ursula Reversible Corset. And the Classic School Girl Uniform.
Restraints, Books & Dildos Oh My! It will make it easier when I find my sugarDaddy so I can easily be spoiled. Hahahaha. Reality check has all ready been cashed--it bounced! No need to laugh at my expense. Ok, go ahead, I don't mind one bit. (I may not be making much sense because, once again, I've not slept in 50 hours. My brain needs a nap.)
So if there are any secret benefactors with a disposable income on this crazy planet, here is the link to my wish list. Hey, if you're going to wish then wish BIG! Plus, a bonus of me having these outfits? I could do one of those really hot-bathroom-mirror pics like all the teenagers do on myspace. And the other 20+ things on my wishlist? They'd just make me happy. That's all. I like happy.
And~since I can't get the Awesome Prize chart to show up correctly~ please use this link & go to BadBadGirl's BigBadContest post to see how it all works. The more people that enter--the MORE PRIZES will be given to the Luckiest Person Evah.
http://bbgblog.com/2009/08/bbgs-big-bad-contest-the-grand-fucking-prize/
DO IT. I command thee! If you don't have a blog--GET ONE. Tell your friends!
Friday, August 14, 2009
My date last night...
was kind-of a flop. I'm always surprised to discover how people are sending you photos via chat or email--that are at least 10 years old. Like when we meet in person--I'll just be so overwhelmed with their charm, that I'll forget that they misrepresented themselves. To me, that equals lying. I've had enough of lying to last me the rest of my life.
The photo on my dating profile is 4 months old--and you can see the grey shining through my bleach job. I have 3 photos up--two full lengths and one close-up--different outfits, different days. I'm a bit thinner now than in my profile pics. I'm not hiding my imperfections, I throw them out in conversation beforehand. I don't claim to be something I'm not. I don't wear a lot of makeup, don't even own a push-up bra and I sure as hell am not going to put up a 10 year old photo. (Besides 10 years ago, I was going through a really frumpy phase. lol)
In any case, he was a really nice guy. Opened the door, held out my chair and seemed interested in my stories. (Bonus points for manners, always!) There wasn't much chemistry or sexual tension, we did make each other laugh. I sensed a bit of a desperation with him--like he's been turned down one too many times and was insecure about women. I get that--completely. I'm pretty insecure as well, I may hide it better in person than he does. The most we'll ever be is occasional friends though.
He refused to let me pay for my dinner--which was really nice because I'm beyond broke this week. He left a good tip, --this is so important to me. If I don't have the money to tip, I won't eat out. He was pleasant to the wait staff even when part of our order was goofed up. I've dated some jerks (and married one) who were total assholes to waitresses. I've gone back in to restaurants to apologize and leave decent tips more times than I can count.
I walked him to his car, he kissed my hand and said we'd chat soon. He hit me up on chat later to say he had a really great evening and that I was prettier in person than in pictures. A girl can never hear that enough. I thanked him again for the dinner and his company, and we both left it open to talk again soon.
The photo on my dating profile is 4 months old--and you can see the grey shining through my bleach job. I have 3 photos up--two full lengths and one close-up--different outfits, different days. I'm a bit thinner now than in my profile pics. I'm not hiding my imperfections, I throw them out in conversation beforehand. I don't claim to be something I'm not. I don't wear a lot of makeup, don't even own a push-up bra and I sure as hell am not going to put up a 10 year old photo. (Besides 10 years ago, I was going through a really frumpy phase. lol)
In any case, he was a really nice guy. Opened the door, held out my chair and seemed interested in my stories. (Bonus points for manners, always!) There wasn't much chemistry or sexual tension, we did make each other laugh. I sensed a bit of a desperation with him--like he's been turned down one too many times and was insecure about women. I get that--completely. I'm pretty insecure as well, I may hide it better in person than he does. The most we'll ever be is occasional friends though.
He refused to let me pay for my dinner--which was really nice because I'm beyond broke this week. He left a good tip, --this is so important to me. If I don't have the money to tip, I won't eat out. He was pleasant to the wait staff even when part of our order was goofed up. I've dated some jerks (and married one) who were total assholes to waitresses. I've gone back in to restaurants to apologize and leave decent tips more times than I can count.
I walked him to his car, he kissed my hand and said we'd chat soon. He hit me up on chat later to say he had a really great evening and that I was prettier in person than in pictures. A girl can never hear that enough. I thanked him again for the dinner and his company, and we both left it open to talk again soon.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
insecurities...
I'm completely insecure about my body (unless it's with a lover..and the lights are dimmed.) I'm thinner now than I was in Jr. High, I fluctuated from 150 to 180 since high school, marriage & babies. Even in elementary school--I was the chubby girl. Or my parents would say "I"m big-boned." I look at my childhood pictures and think "Jesus--look at that fat head. And that beer gut at 10 was not attractive."
Probably the sexiest I've felt about myself was when I was breast-feeding and the Boobie Fairy showed up. My regular "B and One Half" Cups spilleth over into "C" cups and hormones? Holy hell, I was insatiable. (ok, I'm still insatiable lol) At the time, the ex was OTR trucking--I had a 5 yr old & a newborn. I wore out my vibrator and bought this electric generic hitachi-like massager. Anytime a kid was sleeping, I was running upstairs to rock on an orgasm. I was lucky to get fucked once a week. That was about the same time I got a computer and learned how to cyber-sex. I had an internet affair with an older man. His day off was Fridays & we'd masturbate together all day. He mailed me a camera & then we added visuals to our self-loving. We're still talking about meeting up for weekend to fuck like teenagers. As soon as he can get away from his wife.
I'm intimidated by the other sexy bloggers who have luscious round curves. These ladies are smokin' hot and gorgeous. Some are thin, some are filled out, some are heavy--but you can tell in their photos--that they are comfortable in their skin.
And the men bloggers?--whoa. All I need to see is strong arms & I'm dreaming of being wrapped in them. Another favorite part on a man is where the hip bone leads way to a slight indention--oh, I've said this before-but I love to kiss that spot. Or run my fingers lightly along it when we're spooning & I'm behind him.
My body? Mehhh. Since the divorce diet (where you fear your kids won't have food to eat if you have a sandwich--so you just stop eating? Yeah-that diet.) I lost around 30lbs and went through such a deep depression, I didn't know if I was going to survive. But people kept telling me how great I looked. (Which only reinforced that before--when I was heavier--I must NOT have looked great.--cuz my brain is a jackass & tears away at my soul.) My younger sister was giving me clothes and being really shitty because she was always "the thin one."
I'm 128 lbs. Barely any boobs and I think I have a nice looking ass. Three men in my life have called me beautiful. I don't feel that I'm ugly, just average. Not quite pretty, but maybe 'cute.'
I don't have a tripod so I propped a tray table on a kitchen chair & then tried a tower of cds, books & magazines. My house is small & there's clutter--so finding a spot was a challenge in itself. It's fucking difficult to set it all up, hit the timer & then run around to pose. I did it about 12 times before I gave up. When I loaded the pics to the laptop--I almost cried. THIS is my body? I deleted the ones that offended me the most. My tits looked like someone has let the air out. My hair looked like straw. Stretchmarks on my tummy were glowing in the flash. The line from my sternum to my belly button is crooked because of my fucked-up spine.
It's a goddamned reality to take photos of your half-naked self.
So I've fiddled around, cropped & altered some photos & a few more in a dress Saturday. If I'm going to jump into the deep end of sex-blogging, then I'm going to try and emulate my idols. I'm exposing my mind, I might as well expose the vessel as well--but still be creatively anonymous. But I'm taking baby steps. This is my body, it's not going to get better. Accept and move on.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A bit agitated...
I went & saw Jack last night. He's been tormenting me via chat for the last week about how much sex we were going to have when I visited. One of our heated chats was this post. Ok, we've been tormenting each other.
I drove an hour + each way, spent $25 in gasoline, delivered more of his belongings (that he purposely left here), and we had sex once. An hour later, I gave him a hand-job.
Guess who didn't get an orgasm? Guess who begged for it & then was made to feel like an ass 'because he was tired' --even though I'd gotten him hard again? I was at his house for 6 hours--he had plenty of time to recuperate.
Guess who talked to herself in the car saying "I'm doneeee. D.O.N.E. doneeee" all the way home? Guess who is just a bit PISSY this morning? Plus, I've not slept but 6 hours since Saturday. I bet you got all the answers correct ;)
In related news, the laptop that I asked him to fix for me 8 months ago? Somehow he twisted my words around in his head, got into a fight with his brother over it & then gave it to his mother for her birthday. She gave it back to him a while back when he was still living here.
I was so excited to get it back. I had worked my ASS off for 5 months to buy it in the first place a couple years ago. And my kids don't have a p.c., so we let them play with it if they'd pitch in with the dishes or whatever. Morale was up. Production was up. The house was looking good. Bribery works on my kids occasionally.
When Jack moved out, I thought my daughter had the laptop in her bedroom upstairs. She wasn't home when we left. I forgot about it until the next day. Once I realized he took it with him, I asked for it back. He started in on this long spiel about how I gave it to him, don't I remember? And how he doesn't have a back-up & his computer is acting up...blah blah blah. Before the conversation was finished, I asked him when he was done with it, I'd really like it back. Sure, sure sure.
He sold it for rent money. I knew he would.
The dilemma I'm having with myself is...he left behind a brand new $125 fancy double joystick that he received as payment for building a computer for his best friend, Roger. I have the original box & software, but haven't checked to see if I have the cords yet. Jack had every opportunity to pack it & take it with him--but he didn't. Roger has been here & seen it. He mentioned that I should be sure & take it to Jack the next time I see him and I rolled my eyes.
I know for a fact that Jack will talk a friend into driving him up here to pick it up--if I don't deliver it to him fast enough. I also get the distinct impression that Roger wants Jack to have it back...and Roger & Sue come here twice a month or so.
I have the urge to sell it. I feel that since he lived here free for 6 months, a joystick is just a small token in the grand scheme of things. But I don't want him showing up on my doorstep & having a 'scene.' I loathe confrontation. And I don't want to ruin my friendship with Roger & Sue over it either.
I can't make up my mind. I could definitely use the money--school starts next week and my daughter's 16 birthday is in 2 1/2 weeks.
And, my ex-husband called at 8:30 a.m. to bitch about (un-true) gossip he heard and give me more threats of taking me back to court over visitation. I'll have to explain the visitation thing some other time.
I'm just agitated.
I drove an hour + each way, spent $25 in gasoline, delivered more of his belongings (that he purposely left here), and we had sex once. An hour later, I gave him a hand-job.
Guess who didn't get an orgasm? Guess who begged for it & then was made to feel like an ass 'because he was tired' --even though I'd gotten him hard again? I was at his house for 6 hours--he had plenty of time to recuperate.
Guess who talked to herself in the car saying "I'm doneeee. D.O.N.E. doneeee" all the way home? Guess who is just a bit PISSY this morning? Plus, I've not slept but 6 hours since Saturday. I bet you got all the answers correct ;)
In related news, the laptop that I asked him to fix for me 8 months ago? Somehow he twisted my words around in his head, got into a fight with his brother over it & then gave it to his mother for her birthday. She gave it back to him a while back when he was still living here.
I was so excited to get it back. I had worked my ASS off for 5 months to buy it in the first place a couple years ago. And my kids don't have a p.c., so we let them play with it if they'd pitch in with the dishes or whatever. Morale was up. Production was up. The house was looking good. Bribery works on my kids occasionally.
When Jack moved out, I thought my daughter had the laptop in her bedroom upstairs. She wasn't home when we left. I forgot about it until the next day. Once I realized he took it with him, I asked for it back. He started in on this long spiel about how I gave it to him, don't I remember? And how he doesn't have a back-up & his computer is acting up...blah blah blah. Before the conversation was finished, I asked him when he was done with it, I'd really like it back. Sure, sure sure.
He sold it for rent money. I knew he would.
The dilemma I'm having with myself is...he left behind a brand new $125 fancy double joystick that he received as payment for building a computer for his best friend, Roger. I have the original box & software, but haven't checked to see if I have the cords yet. Jack had every opportunity to pack it & take it with him--but he didn't. Roger has been here & seen it. He mentioned that I should be sure & take it to Jack the next time I see him and I rolled my eyes.
I know for a fact that Jack will talk a friend into driving him up here to pick it up--if I don't deliver it to him fast enough. I also get the distinct impression that Roger wants Jack to have it back...and Roger & Sue come here twice a month or so.
I have the urge to sell it. I feel that since he lived here free for 6 months, a joystick is just a small token in the grand scheme of things. But I don't want him showing up on my doorstep & having a 'scene.' I loathe confrontation. And I don't want to ruin my friendship with Roger & Sue over it either.
I can't make up my mind. I could definitely use the money--school starts next week and my daughter's 16 birthday is in 2 1/2 weeks.
And, my ex-husband called at 8:30 a.m. to bitch about (un-true) gossip he heard and give me more threats of taking me back to court over visitation. I'll have to explain the visitation thing some other time.
I'm just agitated.
Monday, August 10, 2009
WoooHOO--EdenCafe Contest
Yes, I'm a contest junkie when it comes to sex toys. I find them from the sexy bloggers I read & on Twitter.
The latest one is EdenCafe is giving away a $100 gift card. Can you imagine the possibilities? If I'd win--would I buy that big rotating rabbit vibe I've heard so much about or a couple little things? I don't know! I just know that it would be a great addition to my pleasure bag! It's just a laptop bag-green camo with pink daisies & rhinestones & it's NOT FULL! See? I need to win. lol
Here's the link -there are several ways to win, sign up!
(This is the first time I'm trying the link thing)
by the way--my Twitter is andadaisytattoo
The latest one is EdenCafe is giving away a $100 gift card. Can you imagine the possibilities? If I'd win--would I buy that big rotating rabbit vibe I've heard so much about or a couple little things? I don't know! I just know that it would be a great addition to my pleasure bag! It's just a laptop bag-green camo with pink daisies & rhinestones & it's NOT FULL! See? I need to win. lol
Here's the link -there are several ways to win, sign up!
(This is the first time I'm trying the link thing)
by the way--my Twitter is andadaisytattoo
I've got a date...
Thursday night @ 7. I'm going to meet a man from a dating site at a restaurant. We've talked quite a bit on messenger, shared pics and stories.
I'm a nervous wreck!
Is it wrong to ask for a spanking on the first date? lmfao. I wouldn't dare, but damn. I'm itching for one. I've not asked if he's kinky yet, we've not even talked about sex. I'll bring it up if there's any chemistry or a second date.
Plus, I'll be seeing Jack later tonight or tomorrow & he'll take care of that. We're either meeting half-way & finding a secluded spot in a park. Or I'll go on down to his house for a couple of hours. And then I'll be going down some more...lol.
I don't have the time to divulge right now--but I saw a former stalker (who thought he was my boyfriend in high school) at my reunion. He made me dance with him --after I said No, I can't dance with my cane. (I can--but I was trying to get out of it) He pulled me into a hug, started swaying to the music & told me he still loved me. I said "Ummm, sorry, I'm in a relationship." He said he didn't care. Yuck & dammit. {Not going to tell him I believe in open, poly relationships!}
My friends? Yeah--they were worthless. They were pointing & laughing at me, while I sent them signals of HELP ME & rolling my eyes. They are SO getting a payback. In any case, now I'm concerned that he'll start stalking again. He always was a creeper.
I'll not hesitate to get a 2nd restraining order! The 1st one is my ex-husband because of his violent rages & coming to my house at all hours to pick a screaming fight. The police department are now my friends because they were here so much last summer. I like having friends who are big, manly & carry guns. lol.
Ok, off to be a mommy for a while.
I'm a nervous wreck!
Is it wrong to ask for a spanking on the first date? lmfao. I wouldn't dare, but damn. I'm itching for one. I've not asked if he's kinky yet, we've not even talked about sex. I'll bring it up if there's any chemistry or a second date.
Plus, I'll be seeing Jack later tonight or tomorrow & he'll take care of that. We're either meeting half-way & finding a secluded spot in a park. Or I'll go on down to his house for a couple of hours. And then I'll be going down some more...lol.
I don't have the time to divulge right now--but I saw a former stalker (who thought he was my boyfriend in high school) at my reunion. He made me dance with him --after I said No, I can't dance with my cane. (I can--but I was trying to get out of it) He pulled me into a hug, started swaying to the music & told me he still loved me. I said "Ummm, sorry, I'm in a relationship." He said he didn't care. Yuck & dammit. {Not going to tell him I believe in open, poly relationships!}
My friends? Yeah--they were worthless. They were pointing & laughing at me, while I sent them signals of HELP ME & rolling my eyes. They are SO getting a payback. In any case, now I'm concerned that he'll start stalking again. He always was a creeper.
I'll not hesitate to get a 2nd restraining order! The 1st one is my ex-husband because of his violent rages & coming to my house at all hours to pick a screaming fight. The police department are now my friends because they were here so much last summer. I like having friends who are big, manly & carry guns. lol.
Ok, off to be a mommy for a while.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Reunion
I went to my 20 year class reunion Saturday night. I've not been invited to any of them, rumor has it that the people in charge can't find me. I have lived in the same town as my high school--for 17 of the last 20 years. My mom still lives in the same house, even has the same phone number as I did back then. One of the men on the committee is my second cousin. I find it completely hilarious.
I knew one of my best girlfriends was definitely going to be there, so I wouldn't feel too weird walking in alone. I did need some encouragement from my daughter, she even told me that "You don't look like a freak. Just GO!" Nice kid, let me tell ya.
I don't like crowds. They make me edgy & uncomfortable as hell. I've been known to have full-blown panic attacks in crowded stores that have extremely loud music. So now I have these little white pills from my doc that keeps me from spazzing out when I'm pushed over that anxiety cliff. I made sure to take one before I left.
Walking in that door--to be judged--took some internal strength for me. (I intentionally showed up an hour late so perhaps I wouldn't stand out as much & the hopefully the hoopla had died down some.) Comparison. That is really the only reason I can pin down why people like going to these things. To see who has aged badly, who has gotten fat, who has money, who has married well, who has divorced, who lives in better houses, drives the cool cars and so on.
Because I think if you truly cared about these people from your past--you would do something to contact them, write them, make them a part of your life. Instead of just showing up every 5 or 10 years with empty promises of "We'll get together soon" or "We can play golf."
Why do we need reassurance that we are living a worthy life? Each person in that bar was doing their own P/R stunt, talking about their jobs, their kids, their spouses, heartaches & victories. They wanted to share, to be acknowledged, to be complimented, to be admired.
Isn't reflecting on our own life enough? Loving our families, cherishing our friends, working hard at our jobs and in our homes.
I sat in a dark corner booth by myself for several minutes to observe. Fake smiles. Boob jobs. Worry lines & wrinkles. Faux designer clothes & $200 shoes. Alcoholics, bulimics, manic depressives. Thinning hair, bulging stomachs. I saw through some of their bravado--hiding their own personal demons to project a successful life.
I know my own demons well and how hard it is to struggle through this life at times. Making the best of a bad run of luck. Praying that you are doing the very best thing for your kids. Hoping that you'll make it through the next day-week-month.
I also know that most of these people I've not seen for twenty years have done nothing to mold or share my life journey since then. The "How Are You's" and the "What Do You Do For a Living's" are just bullshit--to get through your speech--so they can tell you their story. You nod, smile & wait for an opening in the conversation to get more of your story out. As they do the same for you. Until it's time to break away to another familiar stranger--only to start all over again.
Nod. Smile. Laugh. Story. Repeat.
We were tossed and shuffled for four years in high school. We held tight to our cliques, stood fast by our friends, struggled with our homework, had fun in our sports and clubs. We grew into adulthood at our own pace; some did so gracefully, some did so awkwardly. We gauged life only as it related directly to our own desires but then second-guessed our choices by what others may think--what others may criticize. For what? Recognition? Condemnation? Or for ourselves? High school was a battlefield of hormones, angst, growth & peaks. For some it was a challenge, for some it was a breeze.
In my town, the misfits are still considered the misfits. The preps are still the preps. The hoods are still the hoods. Jocks, cheerleaders, science kids, band members...they've not lost their auras of who they were trying to be back then.
And not a one has forgotten your faults & fuck-ups from back then. Several were quick to point out "Remember that time you drank Jack Daniels through a straw for breakfast, got caught & kicked out of school?" Nooo, I'd blocked that, but hey thanks for reminding me. (Not really, I remember very clearly why I drank to excess to numb my reality at 15--but they didn't know what was behind my walls then. And they never will. But I'll always be that girl to them.
Maybe I'm jaded, but for each person who wrote down my email or asked for my phone number--I know I won't hear from them again. Thank god. My best friends from high school are still my best friends. We don't get together often. But in a crisis or a celebration, we're still the first one's that we call, the first one's on each other's front porch--ready to help, ready to listen, ready to bail each other out. Because we've been through everything together and still love each other anyway. Warts and all. Divorces, miscarriages, abortions, bankruptcies, parents, siblings & grandparents dying, addictions, abuse, depression, pregnancies, wives or husbands leaving, raising kids & paying taxes. And yet, at the core, we're still those goofy heavy-metal-loving misfit clique in the yearbook. In another 30 years or so, we'll be the misfits raising hell in the nursing homes too.
I knew one of my best girlfriends was definitely going to be there, so I wouldn't feel too weird walking in alone. I did need some encouragement from my daughter, she even told me that "You don't look like a freak. Just GO!" Nice kid, let me tell ya.
I don't like crowds. They make me edgy & uncomfortable as hell. I've been known to have full-blown panic attacks in crowded stores that have extremely loud music. So now I have these little white pills from my doc that keeps me from spazzing out when I'm pushed over that anxiety cliff. I made sure to take one before I left.
Walking in that door--to be judged--took some internal strength for me. (I intentionally showed up an hour late so perhaps I wouldn't stand out as much & the hopefully the hoopla had died down some.) Comparison. That is really the only reason I can pin down why people like going to these things. To see who has aged badly, who has gotten fat, who has money, who has married well, who has divorced, who lives in better houses, drives the cool cars and so on.
Because I think if you truly cared about these people from your past--you would do something to contact them, write them, make them a part of your life. Instead of just showing up every 5 or 10 years with empty promises of "We'll get together soon" or "We can play golf."
Why do we need reassurance that we are living a worthy life? Each person in that bar was doing their own P/R stunt, talking about their jobs, their kids, their spouses, heartaches & victories. They wanted to share, to be acknowledged, to be complimented, to be admired.
Isn't reflecting on our own life enough? Loving our families, cherishing our friends, working hard at our jobs and in our homes.
I sat in a dark corner booth by myself for several minutes to observe. Fake smiles. Boob jobs. Worry lines & wrinkles. Faux designer clothes & $200 shoes. Alcoholics, bulimics, manic depressives. Thinning hair, bulging stomachs. I saw through some of their bravado--hiding their own personal demons to project a successful life.
I know my own demons well and how hard it is to struggle through this life at times. Making the best of a bad run of luck. Praying that you are doing the very best thing for your kids. Hoping that you'll make it through the next day-week-month.
I also know that most of these people I've not seen for twenty years have done nothing to mold or share my life journey since then. The "How Are You's" and the "What Do You Do For a Living's" are just bullshit--to get through your speech--so they can tell you their story. You nod, smile & wait for an opening in the conversation to get more of your story out. As they do the same for you. Until it's time to break away to another familiar stranger--only to start all over again.
Nod. Smile. Laugh. Story. Repeat.
We were tossed and shuffled for four years in high school. We held tight to our cliques, stood fast by our friends, struggled with our homework, had fun in our sports and clubs. We grew into adulthood at our own pace; some did so gracefully, some did so awkwardly. We gauged life only as it related directly to our own desires but then second-guessed our choices by what others may think--what others may criticize. For what? Recognition? Condemnation? Or for ourselves? High school was a battlefield of hormones, angst, growth & peaks. For some it was a challenge, for some it was a breeze.
In my town, the misfits are still considered the misfits. The preps are still the preps. The hoods are still the hoods. Jocks, cheerleaders, science kids, band members...they've not lost their auras of who they were trying to be back then.
And not a one has forgotten your faults & fuck-ups from back then. Several were quick to point out "Remember that time you drank Jack Daniels through a straw for breakfast, got caught & kicked out of school?" Nooo, I'd blocked that, but hey thanks for reminding me. (Not really, I remember very clearly why I drank to excess to numb my reality at 15--but they didn't know what was behind my walls then. And they never will. But I'll always be that girl to them.
Maybe I'm jaded, but for each person who wrote down my email or asked for my phone number--I know I won't hear from them again. Thank god. My best friends from high school are still my best friends. We don't get together often. But in a crisis or a celebration, we're still the first one's that we call, the first one's on each other's front porch--ready to help, ready to listen, ready to bail each other out. Because we've been through everything together and still love each other anyway. Warts and all. Divorces, miscarriages, abortions, bankruptcies, parents, siblings & grandparents dying, addictions, abuse, depression, pregnancies, wives or husbands leaving, raising kids & paying taxes. And yet, at the core, we're still those goofy heavy-metal-loving misfit clique in the yearbook. In another 30 years or so, we'll be the misfits raising hell in the nursing homes too.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Today...
I've not taken Jack the rest of his belongings. Not seen him since the day I dropped him off. I have been talking to him on chat programs & it's the same funny banter that attracted me to him in the first place.
I totally-by-accident (I swear)- found him on fetlife and I laughed. I guess it was a combination of closure and no more guilt.
Today--he suggested that I get into my kids' savings account so I could visit him, bring him his stuff & have sex.
Ummm...No. No more. I'm not spending another DIME of my kids' CHILD SUPPORT to support, aid or abet him. Buy his monthly game cards, soda, cigarettes, clothing, food, coffee...etc...
But I do still want to have sex with him....
It was comfortable & predictable, at times monotonous--but it was still quite pleasurable. Damn these hormones of mine. Orgasms are more intense when they are shared. Usually.
I totally-by-accident (I swear)- found him on fetlife and I laughed. I guess it was a combination of closure and no more guilt.
Today--he suggested that I get into my kids' savings account so I could visit him, bring him his stuff & have sex.
Ummm...No. No more. I'm not spending another DIME of my kids' CHILD SUPPORT to support, aid or abet him. Buy his monthly game cards, soda, cigarettes, clothing, food, coffee...etc...
But I do still want to have sex with him....
It was comfortable & predictable, at times monotonous--but it was still quite pleasurable. Damn these hormones of mine. Orgasms are more intense when they are shared. Usually.
Friday, August 7, 2009
He asked...
what do YOU want?
So I thought about it awhile...and started typing the scenario...(please excuse the grammar tenses--it was in a chat program & thinking off the top of my head)
I want to be lying on top of you, skin against skin...nuzzling, nibbling, kissing. sliding down--sucking & nibbling more down your tummy...to your hip bones then to your thighs. my hands caressing from your chest to your thighs--avoiding touching your hard cock just yet, letting you anticipate while I tease you more by nibbling closer & running my fingertips up to run over your nipples & then lightly drag my fingernails to the dip of your flesh by your hipbone. Your breath is getting more rapid & my hair drapes over your thighs.
My head is hovering above your cock as I lower my tongue to tease the tip of your hardness. Swirling it around, lowering and opening my warm wet mouth to gently suck & slide all the way down. Taking you in, applying pressure with my tongue on the upstroke & swirl again..sucking harder each time. Finding the rhythm that gives you the most pleasure...stroking you with my right hand, my left hand is on your hip but you want to buck deeper into my mouth, sucking and stroking slowly. Sliding my tongue down your wet hard cock, making you moan only makes me want your cock inside me more.
I love giving you this pleasure, it is intense for me because I have to hold back from climbing on top, parting my lips & plunging you deep inside of me. That first stroke is mind-blowing. I can't focus and need for you to take over--you tilt your hips up to mine, driving your cock in deeper & deeper. With each stroke taking us closer, you smack me hard on my ass. Once. Thrust. Smack twice more quickly. The endorphins race through my brain, pain that turns to such intense pleasure. I'm teetering on an orgasm & Spank twice more. My muscles clench around your cock & you thrust even deeper. My orgasm grabs hold and muscles spasm around your hardness. Your hands pushing me deeper onto you while I pulse & moan.
You guide me & re-position until I'm on my knees & you're behind me-on your knees as well. Another assault of quick swats on my cheeks & you grab my hips and bury your cock inside me with fury. Pulling on my hips to grind deeper & deeper. You run your hands across the red welts on my cheeks--tingling & tender, warm to to touch. Another ravage of slaps and then gentle caresses. Endorphins still clouding my mind, I can only moan Yes. Ohhh Yes Daddy. Please- while you twist my nipples until I moan even more. You pull my hips to bury your cock until I feel you explode inside me. Our bodies locked together throbbing & pulsing until you're empty, quivering into bliss.
That is what I want. Right now anyway. Subject to change. No refunds or returns. All sales final.
So I thought about it awhile...and started typing the scenario...(please excuse the grammar tenses--it was in a chat program & thinking off the top of my head)
I want to be lying on top of you, skin against skin...nuzzling, nibbling, kissing. sliding down--sucking & nibbling more down your tummy...to your hip bones then to your thighs. my hands caressing from your chest to your thighs--avoiding touching your hard cock just yet, letting you anticipate while I tease you more by nibbling closer & running my fingertips up to run over your nipples & then lightly drag my fingernails to the dip of your flesh by your hipbone. Your breath is getting more rapid & my hair drapes over your thighs.
My head is hovering above your cock as I lower my tongue to tease the tip of your hardness. Swirling it around, lowering and opening my warm wet mouth to gently suck & slide all the way down. Taking you in, applying pressure with my tongue on the upstroke & swirl again..sucking harder each time. Finding the rhythm that gives you the most pleasure...stroking you with my right hand, my left hand is on your hip but you want to buck deeper into my mouth, sucking and stroking slowly. Sliding my tongue down your wet hard cock, making you moan only makes me want your cock inside me more.
I love giving you this pleasure, it is intense for me because I have to hold back from climbing on top, parting my lips & plunging you deep inside of me. That first stroke is mind-blowing. I can't focus and need for you to take over--you tilt your hips up to mine, driving your cock in deeper & deeper. With each stroke taking us closer, you smack me hard on my ass. Once. Thrust. Smack twice more quickly. The endorphins race through my brain, pain that turns to such intense pleasure. I'm teetering on an orgasm & Spank twice more. My muscles clench around your cock & you thrust even deeper. My orgasm grabs hold and muscles spasm around your hardness. Your hands pushing me deeper onto you while I pulse & moan.
You guide me & re-position until I'm on my knees & you're behind me-on your knees as well. Another assault of quick swats on my cheeks & you grab my hips and bury your cock inside me with fury. Pulling on my hips to grind deeper & deeper. You run your hands across the red welts on my cheeks--tingling & tender, warm to to touch. Another ravage of slaps and then gentle caresses. Endorphins still clouding my mind, I can only moan Yes. Ohhh Yes Daddy. Please- while you twist my nipples until I moan even more. You pull my hips to bury your cock until I feel you explode inside me. Our bodies locked together throbbing & pulsing until you're empty, quivering into bliss.
That is what I want. Right now anyway. Subject to change. No refunds or returns. All sales final.
The sun's coming up...
Roger & Sue just left. Wow...what a fun night. And--they took their stinky dog home!
No threesome action, but separately we had some adventures. At one point, Sue & I were laying on the bed kissing & fondling each other. She's insecure about her weight, she is a big girl--I hope she takes me seriously when I tell her she's beautiful. Sue is hysterically funny, we click on so many levels. We giggled like teenagers, we made fun of Roger's penis & had him pull it out to compare length & width to our lighters. His penis won the contest, hands down. We were both fondling him.
As Sue left the room, she handed Roger my flat wooden hairbrush. Holy STING...it's been a while--I need my ass toughened up first. He lit up my ass & my thighs; I couldn't take much on my thighs. Swift, striking slaps with the hairbrush while he alternated pulling my hair or twirling & pinching my nipples hard. My panties were wet within the first 3 strikes. I just turn into this putty waiting to be played with, squish me-mold me-spank me-take me.
He threw down the brush & frantically tore down my shorts, hooking his fingers right on my g-spot & shaking fairly rough. Kissing me with force, his tongue strongly sweeping mine--sucking on my lips & letting go with a nibble. And then pulling my hair hard & placing my head on his shoulder while he banged me into an orgasm. I love how he whispers dirty little secrets while he's manipulating me. Roger is so sensual but yet forceful--his dom tricks are HAWT. He held me close to him while my body rippled in pleasure, a smile on both of our faces. Yummity yummm.
With all three of us on the bed, we talked about everything--from politics, health care reform, psychiatric care, how Jack had issues, (he's fathered FIVE kids & no contact, no help raising, no concern other than himself), bad shrinks/good shrinks, cooking & kids stuff. I've only known them since around Christmas 08, but we really click.
We turned the lights off, Sue was sitting at the end of the bed and I started stroking Roger's cock. I love that feeling of soft turning hard within a few motions. When I put him in my mouth, he growled & bucked into my mouth. Guiding each stroke by bucking his hips & yanking my hair, I swirled my tongue around the tip on the upstroke & then sucking hard on the downstroke. My hands rubbing on his thighs, scratching, playing with his balls & then pulling his ass closer to me to suck him deep again. His breathing got ragged & intense--there were a couple times I lost rhythm & felt awkward, praying that I didn't alter his upcoming orgasm. I gained back the rhythm that was working for him and upped the intensity of my sucking, grabbing his ass & forcing him to me, I tugged downward on his balls slightly, he moaned & I tugged a bit harder-Roger groaned & stiffened. I could feel his muscle pulsing--(he doesn't ejaculate) so I softened my tongue swirls & suction until he pulled away.
He flopped on the bed to recover, breathing raggedly. Sue asked if he got off--he replied "Duhhh." She said "Omg-You don't know how HARD it is to get him off. He can go for HOURS." And bizarre as it sounds--SHE HIGH FIVED ME.
I laughed like an idiot. In my mind, I'm thinking how SURREAL this moment is: I just gave a blow job to a man with his wife at the end of the bed-watching in the semi-darkness.
Three years ago, this was totally out of the question. I've evolved into a much more open, sexual person. I didn't know *anything* about poly other than what I knew about Mormons. Hell, three years ago, I'd only heard the term bdsm & had no idea why people wore collars.
Today? I'm still learning, but damn, what a great experience. I'd always been on the very high end of vanilla kink, I liked spanking during sex & bondage & orgasm control, I sure as hell obeyed my husband but it wasn't in the right mindset. I love the possibilities.
No threesome action, but separately we had some adventures. At one point, Sue & I were laying on the bed kissing & fondling each other. She's insecure about her weight, she is a big girl--I hope she takes me seriously when I tell her she's beautiful. Sue is hysterically funny, we click on so many levels. We giggled like teenagers, we made fun of Roger's penis & had him pull it out to compare length & width to our lighters. His penis won the contest, hands down. We were both fondling him.
As Sue left the room, she handed Roger my flat wooden hairbrush. Holy STING...it's been a while--I need my ass toughened up first. He lit up my ass & my thighs; I couldn't take much on my thighs. Swift, striking slaps with the hairbrush while he alternated pulling my hair or twirling & pinching my nipples hard. My panties were wet within the first 3 strikes. I just turn into this putty waiting to be played with, squish me-mold me-spank me-take me.
He threw down the brush & frantically tore down my shorts, hooking his fingers right on my g-spot & shaking fairly rough. Kissing me with force, his tongue strongly sweeping mine--sucking on my lips & letting go with a nibble. And then pulling my hair hard & placing my head on his shoulder while he banged me into an orgasm. I love how he whispers dirty little secrets while he's manipulating me. Roger is so sensual but yet forceful--his dom tricks are HAWT. He held me close to him while my body rippled in pleasure, a smile on both of our faces. Yummity yummm.
With all three of us on the bed, we talked about everything--from politics, health care reform, psychiatric care, how Jack had issues, (he's fathered FIVE kids & no contact, no help raising, no concern other than himself), bad shrinks/good shrinks, cooking & kids stuff. I've only known them since around Christmas 08, but we really click.
We turned the lights off, Sue was sitting at the end of the bed and I started stroking Roger's cock. I love that feeling of soft turning hard within a few motions. When I put him in my mouth, he growled & bucked into my mouth. Guiding each stroke by bucking his hips & yanking my hair, I swirled my tongue around the tip on the upstroke & then sucking hard on the downstroke. My hands rubbing on his thighs, scratching, playing with his balls & then pulling his ass closer to me to suck him deep again. His breathing got ragged & intense--there were a couple times I lost rhythm & felt awkward, praying that I didn't alter his upcoming orgasm. I gained back the rhythm that was working for him and upped the intensity of my sucking, grabbing his ass & forcing him to me, I tugged downward on his balls slightly, he moaned & I tugged a bit harder-Roger groaned & stiffened. I could feel his muscle pulsing--(he doesn't ejaculate) so I softened my tongue swirls & suction until he pulled away.
He flopped on the bed to recover, breathing raggedly. Sue asked if he got off--he replied "Duhhh." She said "Omg-You don't know how HARD it is to get him off. He can go for HOURS." And bizarre as it sounds--SHE HIGH FIVED ME.
I laughed like an idiot. In my mind, I'm thinking how SURREAL this moment is: I just gave a blow job to a man with his wife at the end of the bed-watching in the semi-darkness.
Three years ago, this was totally out of the question. I've evolved into a much more open, sexual person. I didn't know *anything* about poly other than what I knew about Mormons. Hell, three years ago, I'd only heard the term bdsm & had no idea why people wore collars.
Today? I'm still learning, but damn, what a great experience. I'd always been on the very high end of vanilla kink, I liked spanking during sex & bondage & orgasm control, I sure as hell obeyed my husband but it wasn't in the right mindset. I love the possibilities.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Hallelujah!
They are coming to get the dog--hee hee. They are COMING to GET the DOG-ha ha.
And I might get lucky too. :D Roger & I have been fooling around for months, we've just never gone all the way. The flirting & teasing has been intense. Jack always encouraged it when he was sober--but if we were all drinking, he became territorial. Even if Sue & I were making out, he'd interrupt to pull the d/s strings & the next thing you know--I'd be kneeling beside him. Often with handprints on my behind. ~yum~ I do so love my sub chain yanked.
What to do? Roger or Sue? The dilemma of leaving one out, but I'm not quite in the mood for a threesome. When Jack lived here, I didn't have the guilt of leaving anyone out--we just paired off with each other's partners--be it talking or fondling or orgasms. Ahh well, booze does loosen me up--I may go pick up a small bottle.
I need a dom/sub session. I miss that power exchange. Plus--it's been two weeks since I've gotten laid. Yikes.
This morning I masturbated until my forearm muscles were sore. I used the same fantasy I've had since I was about 5 years old-truly. I've added a lot to it over the years, but it all relates back to being in a tent off of a small cliff in the woods & a 'caring' individual is attending to a wound on my upper thigh. Back then, it was just a camp counselor-like person lifting my nightgown to put a band-aid on. Now--it's much, much more than just a band-aid but it starts out the same way. Sometimes it's a man, sometimes a woman--sometimes both are tending to my different needs.
In any case, once I got started & had my first orgasm--the next several were easy to attain. Rolling the fantasy over in my mind & lifting my hips tensing my thighs--I squirted a small puddle just from clit action. Squirting is such a random occurence for me--I've yet to find the right combination every time.
I guess I do have a bit of squirt envy. The porn I've seen where the girls are like FOUNTAINS--that totally amazes me. It looks like such an intense release, I'd love to be able to do that to a woman. Hell, I'm up for anyone to make ME do it--just to see if I have it in me. I don't want all the laundry that comes with it though. lol.
Off to pick up some of the clutter & hit the liquor store & maybe have a nice bubble bath.
And I might get lucky too. :D Roger & I have been fooling around for months, we've just never gone all the way. The flirting & teasing has been intense. Jack always encouraged it when he was sober--but if we were all drinking, he became territorial. Even if Sue & I were making out, he'd interrupt to pull the d/s strings & the next thing you know--I'd be kneeling beside him. Often with handprints on my behind. ~yum~ I do so love my sub chain yanked.
What to do? Roger or Sue? The dilemma of leaving one out, but I'm not quite in the mood for a threesome. When Jack lived here, I didn't have the guilt of leaving anyone out--we just paired off with each other's partners--be it talking or fondling or orgasms. Ahh well, booze does loosen me up--I may go pick up a small bottle.
I need a dom/sub session. I miss that power exchange. Plus--it's been two weeks since I've gotten laid. Yikes.
This morning I masturbated until my forearm muscles were sore. I used the same fantasy I've had since I was about 5 years old-truly. I've added a lot to it over the years, but it all relates back to being in a tent off of a small cliff in the woods & a 'caring' individual is attending to a wound on my upper thigh. Back then, it was just a camp counselor-like person lifting my nightgown to put a band-aid on. Now--it's much, much more than just a band-aid but it starts out the same way. Sometimes it's a man, sometimes a woman--sometimes both are tending to my different needs.
In any case, once I got started & had my first orgasm--the next several were easy to attain. Rolling the fantasy over in my mind & lifting my hips tensing my thighs--I squirted a small puddle just from clit action. Squirting is such a random occurence for me--I've yet to find the right combination every time.
I guess I do have a bit of squirt envy. The porn I've seen where the girls are like FOUNTAINS--that totally amazes me. It looks like such an intense release, I'd love to be able to do that to a woman. Hell, I'm up for anyone to make ME do it--just to see if I have it in me. I don't want all the laundry that comes with it though. lol.
Off to pick up some of the clutter & hit the liquor store & maybe have a nice bubble bath.
Tell me lies, sweet little lies..
In this case BIG FAT HAIRY lies. In all of my 'major' relationships with men--long-term dating, living together, married, living together again. I've been in love with LIARS. I must have some chemical reaction that says "Oh Sure, I'll believe ANYTHING...for a while & then I'll hate myself when I become suspicious & asking direct questions & mentioning little tid-bits in front of family & friends. So they can either stare at me like I'm the most naive person on the planet when it turns out to be a lie.
My ex husband, for instance, if his mouth was open, he was lying. Including "Do we have enough bread?" Oh yeah, we've got a LOT of bread. So I'd go & make the kids sandwiches...with heels. Because lying over bread is like-so-fucking-important. I'd get huffy & he'd start yelling...that wasn't what he said & then start twisting it around to make ME feel like an ass because We're Fighting Over Fucking Bread.
So you'd think I'd learn something from living with lies for 15+ years. Nope. I don't learn NUFFIN, cuz I'm thinking with a rock between my ears.
When I met Jack, he told me he was in the military for 12 years. Wow. 12 years. I respected him because of that. Most of the men (and a few women) in my family have served in every War & conflict dating back to the American Revolution. I have great admiration for those who serve.
Jack told in-depth stories to my son about airplanes, jets, submarines, guns, weapons--details of how he had PTS syndrome, how he'd act startled when fireworks went off. He was a great liar. He even went to college with help from his GI Bill. (ha)
In the past year, I've met Jack's parents twice. The second time I asked his mom for a military picture. She said "I don't know if we have one, but I'll look." I thought that was odd--how can you not have a picture of your son? (So I put it in my head that --maybe they just aren't "Picture People" like me & my family are. We take pictures of EVERYTHING. Bad haircuts, our cars, babies with messy faces, our flower beds, homes...you get it.) Jack was instantly pissed off at me, we left quickly & I've not seen his parents since.
I made him a cross-stitched bookmark with his military symbol & a flag as the backdrop and gave it to him for Veteran's Day. He acted embarrassed & said "But I didn't do that much." {foreshadowing people--I don't usually catch it but this one stuck out}
When Jack plays his MMORPG, he's on voice chat with his game buddies. Three out of four of them were in the same branch of military but at varying times. Jack was the highest rank among them & they all talked a lot of trash.
A few months later, Jack got really sick. Like walking pneumonia sick and he wasn't getting any better. He's allergic to the antibiotics I had on hand, so I couldn't even offer those. I was ready to take him to the emergency room one night but he just told me I was being overprotective. The next day I asked if I could make him an appt at the VA Hospital. He gave me a "NO, just DROP IT, I'll be fine." Mmmmk. Ten minutes later he fesses up--"I hit an officer & got a dishonorable discharge."
Damn. Shock. I still assumed he'd served SOME time. He just had too many details of things.
I've got to back up a little here. Jack's best friend & wife were the only friends of his we hung out with. Roger & Sue are also into bdsm, both are pagan, bi & poly and I've gotten really close with them. I discovered 5 months in--that Sue and Jack share a child. A 14 year old boy--who I never knew existed until I was in their kitchen & saw his picture on the fridge. Jack also has 3 other children by his ex-wife--whom he hasn't seen in years-nor paid support. Another story--for later on.
ANYWAY..when I needed to talk to someone about Jack & how to get him to move out--I called Roger & Sue. They welcomed me into their home and the Truth About Everything came spilling out. They were the only ones that knew about Jack and his past. And with all of my bad relationships of my ex's violent behavior--I needed to know what to expect. Is he going to punch me? Scream? Break shit? Also--another story for another time. He didn't get violent though.
The whole point of this long-winded drivel is...Jack was kicked out of BASIC TRAINING. He abandoned Sue when she was pregnant. He doesn't get a job very often--because he's 10-bazillion dollars behind in child support for his 3 kids. Sue's parents tricked her into signing over her & Jack's newborn son. (They've since healed & Sue's parents are still raising him.)
I feel like a complete fool. I want to tell my son eventually, just not right now. Maybe when Jack is completely out of the picture...I still have a ton of his crap here & I'd like to get my laptop back from him before we're totally severed.
I want a lie detector machine for my next relationship. And a background check. And maybe a private investigator.
My ex husband, for instance, if his mouth was open, he was lying. Including "Do we have enough bread?" Oh yeah, we've got a LOT of bread. So I'd go & make the kids sandwiches...with heels. Because lying over bread is like-so-fucking-important. I'd get huffy & he'd start yelling...that wasn't what he said & then start twisting it around to make ME feel like an ass because We're Fighting Over Fucking Bread.
So you'd think I'd learn something from living with lies for 15+ years. Nope. I don't learn NUFFIN, cuz I'm thinking with a rock between my ears.
When I met Jack, he told me he was in the military for 12 years. Wow. 12 years. I respected him because of that. Most of the men (and a few women) in my family have served in every War & conflict dating back to the American Revolution. I have great admiration for those who serve.
Jack told in-depth stories to my son about airplanes, jets, submarines, guns, weapons--details of how he had PTS syndrome, how he'd act startled when fireworks went off. He was a great liar. He even went to college with help from his GI Bill. (ha)
In the past year, I've met Jack's parents twice. The second time I asked his mom for a military picture. She said "I don't know if we have one, but I'll look." I thought that was odd--how can you not have a picture of your son? (So I put it in my head that --maybe they just aren't "Picture People" like me & my family are. We take pictures of EVERYTHING. Bad haircuts, our cars, babies with messy faces, our flower beds, homes...you get it.) Jack was instantly pissed off at me, we left quickly & I've not seen his parents since.
I made him a cross-stitched bookmark with his military symbol & a flag as the backdrop and gave it to him for Veteran's Day. He acted embarrassed & said "But I didn't do that much." {foreshadowing people--I don't usually catch it but this one stuck out}
When Jack plays his MMORPG, he's on voice chat with his game buddies. Three out of four of them were in the same branch of military but at varying times. Jack was the highest rank among them & they all talked a lot of trash.
A few months later, Jack got really sick. Like walking pneumonia sick and he wasn't getting any better. He's allergic to the antibiotics I had on hand, so I couldn't even offer those. I was ready to take him to the emergency room one night but he just told me I was being overprotective. The next day I asked if I could make him an appt at the VA Hospital. He gave me a "NO, just DROP IT, I'll be fine." Mmmmk. Ten minutes later he fesses up--"I hit an officer & got a dishonorable discharge."
Damn. Shock. I still assumed he'd served SOME time. He just had too many details of things.
I've got to back up a little here. Jack's best friend & wife were the only friends of his we hung out with. Roger & Sue are also into bdsm, both are pagan, bi & poly and I've gotten really close with them. I discovered 5 months in--that Sue and Jack share a child. A 14 year old boy--who I never knew existed until I was in their kitchen & saw his picture on the fridge. Jack also has 3 other children by his ex-wife--whom he hasn't seen in years-nor paid support. Another story--for later on.
ANYWAY..when I needed to talk to someone about Jack & how to get him to move out--I called Roger & Sue. They welcomed me into their home and the Truth About Everything came spilling out. They were the only ones that knew about Jack and his past. And with all of my bad relationships of my ex's violent behavior--I needed to know what to expect. Is he going to punch me? Scream? Break shit? Also--another story for another time. He didn't get violent though.
The whole point of this long-winded drivel is...Jack was kicked out of BASIC TRAINING. He abandoned Sue when she was pregnant. He doesn't get a job very often--because he's 10-bazillion dollars behind in child support for his 3 kids. Sue's parents tricked her into signing over her & Jack's newborn son. (They've since healed & Sue's parents are still raising him.)
I feel like a complete fool. I want to tell my son eventually, just not right now. Maybe when Jack is completely out of the picture...I still have a ton of his crap here & I'd like to get my laptop back from him before we're totally severed.
I want a lie detector machine for my next relationship. And a background check. And maybe a private investigator.
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