I am moving and I hate moving. I love travel, but moving the home base, my nest, is a process of slow mental deterioration that leaves me sobbing in a dark corner somewhere bemoaning the loss of some self perceived notion of stability.
Life is not stable. It is in a constant state of flux and evolution that is based in chaos....kind of like my libido. There are certain elements of life that are predictable, again like my libido. There are cycles of life that come and go...again like my libido. So the conclusion is, my life is my libido and it is relocating itself to a large city after living in a quiet rural area for well over a decade. It is quivering in its own dark corner of denim right now, bemoaning the loss of a playground, but somewhere in the depths, it is eager to arrive into a new neighborhood and make new friends.
I have learned to be single again in the last year and established a sense of stability within myself. Now it is time to take myself into a bigger and deeper pool and learn to swim.....
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
THE TRANSITION
There is always a point of transition between the point of ‘was’ and the next point of ‘am’; I am caught in between these two points and am riding some pretty tumultuous waves of the changing sea.
The sexual aspect of my nature is going through the most difficult birthing process I have ever known. Simple questions like what are some of my fantasies leave me standing mid stride, lost in thought. What are some of my fantasies? Such a simple question has thrown me into a confusing whirl of self discovery. Sexual exploration was never part of my menu…repressed? You bet. Unwilling? Hell no! But honestly, I am trying to figure out what it is that I like and dislike, and how would I know if I haven’t tried it yet? I am looking at the past and realize how little I have acted out on my sexual needs/wants/desires. Over time, an invisible wall of reluctance based on a lack of trust in my partner developed and became a hardened ball of intimidation and fear.
This fear has kept me from acting out on what I perceive as selfish fantasies, and has kept me disabled from exploration. Over the years, being a mother, caretaker, wife/partner taught me well enough to give, but not how to take and this has always been apparent in the bedroom. Don’t take this wrong, it isn’t like I haven’t known pleasure, but I do not know how to verbally express and take what I want sexually, despite my being incredibly assertive in the real world. No one who knows me would guess how timid I am to express myself in this venue when it comes right down to it; it goes against my visible temperament too much. The most ridiculous thing of it all is that all this time, I realize that I have been looking for a partner to read my mind, translate the warped shit that spins in there and act appropriately for my pleasure. Looking at it from this angle, I realize how selfish THAT is!
So here I sit with a challenge before me. A willing lover who wants me to communicate and express myself; wants me to tell or even write out what it is I want; a single fantasy to start with. I have been stumped. Not because I don’t have one or two, but silent about it until now and afraid to reveal my innermost sexual self.
THIS moment is my transition.
The sexual aspect of my nature is going through the most difficult birthing process I have ever known. Simple questions like what are some of my fantasies leave me standing mid stride, lost in thought. What are some of my fantasies? Such a simple question has thrown me into a confusing whirl of self discovery. Sexual exploration was never part of my menu…repressed? You bet. Unwilling? Hell no! But honestly, I am trying to figure out what it is that I like and dislike, and how would I know if I haven’t tried it yet? I am looking at the past and realize how little I have acted out on my sexual needs/wants/desires. Over time, an invisible wall of reluctance based on a lack of trust in my partner developed and became a hardened ball of intimidation and fear.
This fear has kept me from acting out on what I perceive as selfish fantasies, and has kept me disabled from exploration. Over the years, being a mother, caretaker, wife/partner taught me well enough to give, but not how to take and this has always been apparent in the bedroom. Don’t take this wrong, it isn’t like I haven’t known pleasure, but I do not know how to verbally express and take what I want sexually, despite my being incredibly assertive in the real world. No one who knows me would guess how timid I am to express myself in this venue when it comes right down to it; it goes against my visible temperament too much. The most ridiculous thing of it all is that all this time, I realize that I have been looking for a partner to read my mind, translate the warped shit that spins in there and act appropriately for my pleasure. Looking at it from this angle, I realize how selfish THAT is!
So here I sit with a challenge before me. A willing lover who wants me to communicate and express myself; wants me to tell or even write out what it is I want; a single fantasy to start with. I have been stumped. Not because I don’t have one or two, but silent about it until now and afraid to reveal my innermost sexual self.
THIS moment is my transition.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
BOOB JOBS
I love breasts. I really do. I don’t care what anyone wants to call them, there is a smörgåsbord of names to choose from…..and whatever name they go by does not change how I react to them. Love them! Of course, I am a little obsessed, but hell, I have always been obsessed about certain things…tits just happen to be one of many obsessions.
Now, don’t take this wrong…I love mine, even named them (yea, ok, whatever!), and they have served me well, and my children too. I nursed all of them and I wouldn’t change that simple pleasure for anything in the world. But my children were greedy little shits and managed to suck the perkiness right out of my tits slowly but surely. If that wasn’t enough, Mother Nature comes along, tries to take her pound of flesh, finds them lacking in even a half pound of weight and sends Gravity to wreck vengeance before my very eyes! So, sue me, but I have a resentment with the both of them, and am going to fight back.
I have never been a fan of boob jobs, but I have never been 40 years old either! So I started looking at augmentations. I have seen more tits in the last two weeks than I care to admit….and didn’t get to touch any of them…..sigh...but the belief that I held, until a few days ago, was that I would not have one. Simple, I thought, until I heard that it was possible to take the fat from your own body and recycle it into your own breasts! WOA buddy!!! THIS has me hopeful and giddy and hopeful and giddy, and did I mention hopeful? How 'bout giddy?
I pride myself on being environmentally aware and active. I have been recycling for years now, and the thought of having my own body recycled into something so positively awesome has me, yup, hopeful and giddy in addition to the pride that comes from being a responsible, environmentally aware soul.
But here is the deal…my insurance isn’t paying for this, so I have had to get creative with my thinking….so the ‘tips for tits’ jar has begun. You would be hard pressed to believe that servers make an average of $10,000 to $20,000 more a year for having larger, perkier breasts, but it is true, and working IS about the money honey. (I have my nails done to make that extra 11% as well). Soooooooo, with that said and knowing how I am all about improving my work performance, I will be diligently saving my money from here on in.
But knowing how the industry goes, I have this insane fear of being just shy of reaching my ‘prettier peaches’ campaign when they will discover a major medical danger concerning this procedure. So I have started another campaign, one of prayer and fasting to the goddess Venus herself. I pledge myself to morning and evening prayers and now fast once a week. I light incense and candles; I am even learning Greek in order to sing hymns of praise to her boobiness and blessed protection over this medical procedure, at least long enough for me to get mine! Selfish? Oh yes. Shameful? No way, remember, it’s the perfect recycling program I have ever heard of!
Besides the money aspect of the peaches campaign, there is the practical aspect of nipple sensitivity to consider. My nipples are a large part of foreplay; trust me, a large part. Mmmmmmmmm, just thinking of having my nipples played with makes me want to arch my back in response and enjoy that special shiver of pleasure that runs down my back. I am sooooo not willing to give that up. So do I choose saggy boobs that bring me intense sexual pleasure or perfect peaches with the loss of sensitivity? I am a hedonist so it shouldn’t take too long to figure out which one I would choose, so it is no surprise that I swooned and nearly fainted with relief to learn that my tits can still remain sensitive as well as beautiful again…whew!
So with all this goofiness aside and out of my system, I am seriously researching breast augmentations, focusing primarily on the above mentioned procedure. But before anyone walks away thinking that I am going for something that I am not, let me state for the record…a nice, solid, perky, happy pair of B’s will do me just fine because those C’s look like they could hurt me and/or others. Nothing against those gals with large breasts, I am sure that you manage just fine. I know myself though, and I would be giving myself and others black eyes just trying to simply clear a dirty dish and that would affect my tip, and again, it is about the money honey………………
Now, don’t take this wrong…I love mine, even named them (yea, ok, whatever!), and they have served me well, and my children too. I nursed all of them and I wouldn’t change that simple pleasure for anything in the world. But my children were greedy little shits and managed to suck the perkiness right out of my tits slowly but surely. If that wasn’t enough, Mother Nature comes along, tries to take her pound of flesh, finds them lacking in even a half pound of weight and sends Gravity to wreck vengeance before my very eyes! So, sue me, but I have a resentment with the both of them, and am going to fight back.
I have never been a fan of boob jobs, but I have never been 40 years old either! So I started looking at augmentations. I have seen more tits in the last two weeks than I care to admit….and didn’t get to touch any of them…..sigh...but the belief that I held, until a few days ago, was that I would not have one. Simple, I thought, until I heard that it was possible to take the fat from your own body and recycle it into your own breasts! WOA buddy!!! THIS has me hopeful and giddy and hopeful and giddy, and did I mention hopeful? How 'bout giddy?
I pride myself on being environmentally aware and active. I have been recycling for years now, and the thought of having my own body recycled into something so positively awesome has me, yup, hopeful and giddy in addition to the pride that comes from being a responsible, environmentally aware soul.
But here is the deal…my insurance isn’t paying for this, so I have had to get creative with my thinking….so the ‘tips for tits’ jar has begun. You would be hard pressed to believe that servers make an average of $10,000 to $20,000 more a year for having larger, perkier breasts, but it is true, and working IS about the money honey. (I have my nails done to make that extra 11% as well). Soooooooo, with that said and knowing how I am all about improving my work performance, I will be diligently saving my money from here on in.
But knowing how the industry goes, I have this insane fear of being just shy of reaching my ‘prettier peaches’ campaign when they will discover a major medical danger concerning this procedure. So I have started another campaign, one of prayer and fasting to the goddess Venus herself. I pledge myself to morning and evening prayers and now fast once a week. I light incense and candles; I am even learning Greek in order to sing hymns of praise to her boobiness and blessed protection over this medical procedure, at least long enough for me to get mine! Selfish? Oh yes. Shameful? No way, remember, it’s the perfect recycling program I have ever heard of!
Besides the money aspect of the peaches campaign, there is the practical aspect of nipple sensitivity to consider. My nipples are a large part of foreplay; trust me, a large part. Mmmmmmmmm, just thinking of having my nipples played with makes me want to arch my back in response and enjoy that special shiver of pleasure that runs down my back. I am sooooo not willing to give that up. So do I choose saggy boobs that bring me intense sexual pleasure or perfect peaches with the loss of sensitivity? I am a hedonist so it shouldn’t take too long to figure out which one I would choose, so it is no surprise that I swooned and nearly fainted with relief to learn that my tits can still remain sensitive as well as beautiful again…whew!
So with all this goofiness aside and out of my system, I am seriously researching breast augmentations, focusing primarily on the above mentioned procedure. But before anyone walks away thinking that I am going for something that I am not, let me state for the record…a nice, solid, perky, happy pair of B’s will do me just fine because those C’s look like they could hurt me and/or others. Nothing against those gals with large breasts, I am sure that you manage just fine. I know myself though, and I would be giving myself and others black eyes just trying to simply clear a dirty dish and that would affect my tip, and again, it is about the money honey………………
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
THE INTERVIEW
So the interview went something like this….
“Well, you represented yourself accurately…you are gorgeous”
“And you are beautiful as well”
“You have lovely eyes”
“So whatdoya think?”
“You haven’t even kissed me yet!”
(Imagine what you will here….it was simpler than you are thinking)
“So now whatdoya think”
‘”It’s a go”
Okay, there was actually much more dialogue involved, but it basically boiled down to this. I am fascinated by the simplicity.
“Well, you represented yourself accurately…you are gorgeous”
“And you are beautiful as well”
“You have lovely eyes”
“So whatdoya think?”
“You haven’t even kissed me yet!”
(Imagine what you will here….it was simpler than you are thinking)
“So now whatdoya think”
‘”It’s a go”
Okay, there was actually much more dialogue involved, but it basically boiled down to this. I am fascinated by the simplicity.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
THE BLOG ACCORDING TO BOB
My dildos and vibrators are currently named ‘bob’, which I suppose is a better name than GumbyX due to the lesser syllables required to roll of the tongue. I didn’t come up with the name; it was a happy accident that occurred at work. Imagine a gaggle of geese trying to talk about dildos, sex, fucking and sucking while working with the public….tricky sometimes. So the boss blurts out the name ‘bob’ in direct reference to our conversation, and Bob it has been ever since much to our amusement and pleasure.
It is one thing to talk about fucking yourself with your toys with co-workers, but it is still a surreal experience to talk about dildos to a straight faced attendant young behind the counter of an adult store. Maybe because talking about dildos at work with the other women is a lot like the cooler conversations at the office, or fishing stories with the guys….I once had a dildo thiiiiiissss bbbiiiiiiigggg…..a delightful form of entertainment with enough edgy seriousness to make it real. Maybe it is the lack of visual, hell, I assume that we are not carrying our Bobs into work with us (well, maybe some of the gals have butterfly Bobs that we are not aware of….interesting to ponder about), but overall……there is a difference for me at least between discussing Bob with the gals at work, and seeing Bob in all of his glory in the hands of a beautiful looking young man at the Bob store.
Shopping for Bob is amazing to me. There are Bobs out there that seem ridiculously impossible to take home to momma. You know what I mean….the 10’ (not inches, feet!) double headed dildo that is everyone’s favorite party toy that you know isn’t practical, but you wonder who is using those anyways………oh yea you think, I saw that in a porn one time! Then there are Bobs with a lot of bling; shinny, but you still wonder if under all the pretty shine, is there quality there? There are Bobs with parts that I still don’t think I want to know about….ok, yes, I do want to learn about the anal tickler attached to it…..but do I want the guy behind the counter to know that I may like that? And if the answer is yes can he give me a demonstration? Bobs with pearls, Bobs with jelly skin, plastic skin, surreal cyber skin…etc…..a lot of cleaning to think about there…and using a condom with Bob???? That gets me to no end…..Bob is my best and closest friend, even when others come over to play. Can I not trust him the most and not have to wear a rubber? (I know, condom use is for when letting Bob play with your friends as well as yourself….it was just a liberty I took…)
Shopping for Bob is like picking up a guy…..scope, review, decide…..mmmmmm, that one looks good, bet it can do this for me…but that one over there, well, now we are talking endurance….how bout Bob supercharged model triple thousand X? I bet that is worth 20 orgasms! How can I be expected to pick out just one? Then reality sets in after all of my oohhing and aaahhhing. I know what I want and need in a Bob…..and I since I am a practical sort and not inclined to Bob shop frequently, I usually go for quality and endurance with a touch of spice, not worrying about the bells and whistles so much as the hard core endurance…..I want my Bob to last.
With the final selection made, I approach the counter. Now the squirming begins. I want to ask this guy, hey, is this Bob any good? I want to know if him and his girlfriend have tried this particular model, how did she like it, how bout the quality, and tell me if you really, really enjoyed the look on her face while you were pumping this particular model of Bob in and out of her pussy? Of course I don’t ask, and of course he remains professional and states something like, well, generally speaking ladies and gentlemen, this Bob is a sure fire hit with the ladies……and next thing you know…..I buy the farm, the car, the extra batteries and the toy cleaner for good measure. (Maybe I was thinking about him and his girlfriend too much and got excited)
It is just too much excitement for me at the counter. I am calm and in control until that moment. Maybe it is the test demonstration that gets me. I know that the counter attendant knows exactly what Bob is going to do for me as soon as I get him home. I start to feel the tingles of exposure. I am mentally having an intimate experience with a complete stranger at a condom and lube filled display counter and it fucks me up every single time. This stranger (who just happens to be really cute, young and full of life) is holding and demonstrating a simulated cock before my very eyes and I have an insane urge to crawl up on the counter, spread my legs and give my new Bobby baby a whirl right there….Hell, I want to know how well it works and watch him watching me watching him and getting pumped. But this guy insists on giving me instructions on dildo and vibrator care with a straight face and I play along, but……but I still want the attendant to slide that bad boy up my pussy and rev up the engines. I continue to act like I am buying groceries at the store and he pretends that we are not talking about making my pussy hot, swollen, moist and wet. We are not talking about how good my clit is going to feel with that humming little do dad riding up on it. We are not talking about how incredibly hot it is to have someone sliding a play cock inside and out of me and watching me cum, but I am thinking it…and I am convinced that sometimes this counter attendant does too. We are not talking about how I am going to feel the power of Bob carry me to my favorite place in the whole wide world and then thrash around in the throes of beautiful pleasure. Nope, we are not talking about this, but he is showing me all about it as I watch the head of Bob spin around and around and he hums and purrs and wiggles, struggling so valiantly to get out of the plastic into my waiting pussy.
So with straight faces, he says ‘thank you for shopping and have a great day’…..and I say, ‘you too’. But with my fantasy still freshly acted out in my mind, I rush to the car and light a cigarette wondering how fast I can drive and get away without a ticket.
Happy Bobbing Tuesday to All!
It is one thing to talk about fucking yourself with your toys with co-workers, but it is still a surreal experience to talk about dildos to a straight faced attendant young behind the counter of an adult store. Maybe because talking about dildos at work with the other women is a lot like the cooler conversations at the office, or fishing stories with the guys….I once had a dildo thiiiiiissss bbbiiiiiiigggg…..a delightful form of entertainment with enough edgy seriousness to make it real. Maybe it is the lack of visual, hell, I assume that we are not carrying our Bobs into work with us (well, maybe some of the gals have butterfly Bobs that we are not aware of….interesting to ponder about), but overall……there is a difference for me at least between discussing Bob with the gals at work, and seeing Bob in all of his glory in the hands of a beautiful looking young man at the Bob store.
Shopping for Bob is amazing to me. There are Bobs out there that seem ridiculously impossible to take home to momma. You know what I mean….the 10’ (not inches, feet!) double headed dildo that is everyone’s favorite party toy that you know isn’t practical, but you wonder who is using those anyways………oh yea you think, I saw that in a porn one time! Then there are Bobs with a lot of bling; shinny, but you still wonder if under all the pretty shine, is there quality there? There are Bobs with parts that I still don’t think I want to know about….ok, yes, I do want to learn about the anal tickler attached to it…..but do I want the guy behind the counter to know that I may like that? And if the answer is yes can he give me a demonstration? Bobs with pearls, Bobs with jelly skin, plastic skin, surreal cyber skin…etc…..a lot of cleaning to think about there…and using a condom with Bob???? That gets me to no end…..Bob is my best and closest friend, even when others come over to play. Can I not trust him the most and not have to wear a rubber? (I know, condom use is for when letting Bob play with your friends as well as yourself….it was just a liberty I took…)
Shopping for Bob is like picking up a guy…..scope, review, decide…..mmmmmm, that one looks good, bet it can do this for me…but that one over there, well, now we are talking endurance….how bout Bob supercharged model triple thousand X? I bet that is worth 20 orgasms! How can I be expected to pick out just one? Then reality sets in after all of my oohhing and aaahhhing. I know what I want and need in a Bob…..and I since I am a practical sort and not inclined to Bob shop frequently, I usually go for quality and endurance with a touch of spice, not worrying about the bells and whistles so much as the hard core endurance…..I want my Bob to last.
With the final selection made, I approach the counter. Now the squirming begins. I want to ask this guy, hey, is this Bob any good? I want to know if him and his girlfriend have tried this particular model, how did she like it, how bout the quality, and tell me if you really, really enjoyed the look on her face while you were pumping this particular model of Bob in and out of her pussy? Of course I don’t ask, and of course he remains professional and states something like, well, generally speaking ladies and gentlemen, this Bob is a sure fire hit with the ladies……and next thing you know…..I buy the farm, the car, the extra batteries and the toy cleaner for good measure. (Maybe I was thinking about him and his girlfriend too much and got excited)
It is just too much excitement for me at the counter. I am calm and in control until that moment. Maybe it is the test demonstration that gets me. I know that the counter attendant knows exactly what Bob is going to do for me as soon as I get him home. I start to feel the tingles of exposure. I am mentally having an intimate experience with a complete stranger at a condom and lube filled display counter and it fucks me up every single time. This stranger (who just happens to be really cute, young and full of life) is holding and demonstrating a simulated cock before my very eyes and I have an insane urge to crawl up on the counter, spread my legs and give my new Bobby baby a whirl right there….Hell, I want to know how well it works and watch him watching me watching him and getting pumped. But this guy insists on giving me instructions on dildo and vibrator care with a straight face and I play along, but……but I still want the attendant to slide that bad boy up my pussy and rev up the engines. I continue to act like I am buying groceries at the store and he pretends that we are not talking about making my pussy hot, swollen, moist and wet. We are not talking about how good my clit is going to feel with that humming little do dad riding up on it. We are not talking about how incredibly hot it is to have someone sliding a play cock inside and out of me and watching me cum, but I am thinking it…and I am convinced that sometimes this counter attendant does too. We are not talking about how I am going to feel the power of Bob carry me to my favorite place in the whole wide world and then thrash around in the throes of beautiful pleasure. Nope, we are not talking about this, but he is showing me all about it as I watch the head of Bob spin around and around and he hums and purrs and wiggles, struggling so valiantly to get out of the plastic into my waiting pussy.
So with straight faces, he says ‘thank you for shopping and have a great day’…..and I say, ‘you too’. But with my fantasy still freshly acted out in my mind, I rush to the car and light a cigarette wondering how fast I can drive and get away without a ticket.
Happy Bobbing Tuesday to All!
Friday, October 05, 2007
KINKED PENIS
Circumcision is a way of life for many cultures. I remember when this supposedly common, routine procedure was performed on my first born son. I cringed and cowered in the hallway listening to him cry as he was strapped down to the little papoose board. The procedure lasted only minutes, and he was healed within days. I wish I could say the same for one little boy in upper Egypt who wasn't so lucky.
I can't imagine the consequences of a badly performed circumcision in Western civilization, let alone in a developing area of the middle east. I can barely look at these pictures (posted below this post) without wanting to wrap my arms around my own sons knowing how grateful I am that we live where we do and knowing that their male sexuality has not had to suffer such a heavy blow as this poor little guy. I don't know, maybe it is different over there and he (the little boy) will not have any hang ups, but I do wonder about the long term affects of it all. Will he be able to perform, sexually? Will he clearly remember what he used to look like? Does it hurt still, and will it always hurt him? Will there be a possibility of future infections? Does his culture look down on this 'flaw' and judge him unworthy? Will it lower his value as a potential mate or husband? Maybe these are ridiculous questions to wonder about, but after seeing these pictures...I really felt for this little guy and really hope that he has a blessed life after going through something so traumatic.
At one time, I had an unidentifiable growth on my right labia that had to be removed and biopsied. It was painful, large and embarrassing for me. I thought that something was wrong and it did affect my sexuality to a certain degree....there is still a scar that I can see, but since this event occurred as an adult, I was able to mentally overcome the ramifications to my self image. Of course, having someone between my legs, lapping me up with gusto and admiring the beauty of my inner flower helped me get over any embarrassment that I was experiencing after the ordeal, but hell, having someone between my legs has always helped me in more ways than one!
Our sexuality is a joy....and for this little boy, I hope when he matures, his sexuality is not so adversely affected that he is unable to experience all the wonderment that can be had between lovers.
I can't imagine the consequences of a badly performed circumcision in Western civilization, let alone in a developing area of the middle east. I can barely look at these pictures (posted below this post) without wanting to wrap my arms around my own sons knowing how grateful I am that we live where we do and knowing that their male sexuality has not had to suffer such a heavy blow as this poor little guy. I don't know, maybe it is different over there and he (the little boy) will not have any hang ups, but I do wonder about the long term affects of it all. Will he be able to perform, sexually? Will he clearly remember what he used to look like? Does it hurt still, and will it always hurt him? Will there be a possibility of future infections? Does his culture look down on this 'flaw' and judge him unworthy? Will it lower his value as a potential mate or husband? Maybe these are ridiculous questions to wonder about, but after seeing these pictures...I really felt for this little guy and really hope that he has a blessed life after going through something so traumatic.
At one time, I had an unidentifiable growth on my right labia that had to be removed and biopsied. It was painful, large and embarrassing for me. I thought that something was wrong and it did affect my sexuality to a certain degree....there is still a scar that I can see, but since this event occurred as an adult, I was able to mentally overcome the ramifications to my self image. Of course, having someone between my legs, lapping me up with gusto and admiring the beauty of my inner flower helped me get over any embarrassment that I was experiencing after the ordeal, but hell, having someone between my legs has always helped me in more ways than one!
Our sexuality is a joy....and for this little boy, I hope when he matures, his sexuality is not so adversely affected that he is unable to experience all the wonderment that can be had between lovers.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Erotic Art
I love erotic art…I can’t help it. I am a junkie when it comes right down do it; a voyeur in the best of ways. Erotic art is a turn on for me no matter how I look at it (upside down, on my back, standing on my head), it is a subject to fuel my fires for days at a time. Now, the difference between erotic and pornographic is a slippery one. Porn picks me up and dumps me right into the sexual act, but erotic art is more like foreplay, a visual vibrator that creates and builds the sexual tension within my mind.
When I saw Robert Lombarte's "Cops and Robbers" piece for the first time, I felt the first stirrings of my kinky vibrations.I realized that there was a longing in me to play with this aspect of my nature. Come to find out, I have an insatiable appetite for the restrained teasing game, but I wasn’t able to act out on it for years. I am sure that given enough time, I would have eventually identified this interest of mine, but his piece helped me to see my longing despite it's 'tame' nature.
Art is like that. This is the purpose of Art: to provoke and provide visual food for longings, feelings, and other indescribable states of being. How many times have we responded to a piece of art and have not been able to put our reaction into words? It is part of the creative mystery, and when it comes to sexuality, there is something so primal at times, it defies words.
The wonderful thing about it all….art is subjective for every person, there is something for everyone. What does it for me, may or may not do it for you, but I guarantee that something out there does do it for you…so go explore your creative sexual nature and get back to me. Tell me what you find and why you like it…I am listening and who knows, your stuff may just turn me on too and then we will have something in common; a nice start to a long friendship.
Friday, September 28, 2007
WAKING UP
Perfect morning sex. Some are into, some aren’t, but for me folks, I LOVE to wake up with this way! Now, I am not talking about actually coming to consciousness with a dick already in me, pounding away. I am talking about that slow lazy ride to the surface of ‘awake’ and feeling my lover’s body resting up against mine. I can feel his chest pressed into my back, his knees bent into the back of mine, and his hips in perfect alignment with mine. I am talking about feeling his hands stroking the entire length of my body in a ridiculously slow way that gets my sleeping minds attention and baits me like a fish on a hook and brings me to the surface with skill and patience.
I love the sensuality of coming awake like this. I feel warm and soft all over without a single thought to take away the perfection of the moment....just lovely skin wrapping all over me, and I can't help but give in to 'the stretch'. That delicious, all consuming morning stretch that pushes my ass into his hips and arches my back and the feeling of hard cock sliding its way into me before it is completely over. It is as close to a perfect spiritual moment as any other. (Think “Oh God, yeeeeeeeeessssssssssssss!)
I do miss that part of a relationship.
I love the sensuality of coming awake like this. I feel warm and soft all over without a single thought to take away the perfection of the moment....just lovely skin wrapping all over me, and I can't help but give in to 'the stretch'. That delicious, all consuming morning stretch that pushes my ass into his hips and arches my back and the feeling of hard cock sliding its way into me before it is completely over. It is as close to a perfect spiritual moment as any other. (Think “Oh God, yeeeeeeeeessssssssssssss!)
I do miss that part of a relationship.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
A LITTLE MORE ABOUT ME
As promised, I am delivering a bit more of myself upon the silver platter today. Hm, where to start? Well, I guess the name is as good of a place as any.
Persephone is my favorite myth; holding a special place in my heart and my libido. Persephone, as a goddess archetype, came into my life many years ago and remains as fascinating to me today as she first did all that time ago. What does this have to with any form of sexuality? Well, everyone claims she was abducted/kidnapped, by Hades and tricked into eating of the Pomegranate that would permanently bind her to him forever. Poor Hades, no female in their right mind wanted to hang out with him, let alone have sex with him; he was/is the god of the underworld after all. So he resorted to stealing what he wanted and tricking her into a form of bondage.........so the story goes.
My take on it is a wee bit different. The symbology of Persephone is one of a woman who delves deeply into her 'shadow' self and comes to terms with it. Hades represents the Underworld, but also deals with anything that is repressed within our own psyches. Our sexuality is a major subconscious issue that dwells within this realm. Now,imagine if you will, if the story goes like this.....
Persephone is growing into womanhood and lives in the realm of her mother; eternal sunshine, perfect weather, right actions, blah blah blah. 'Seph starts to feel and think things that are not is agreement with this perfect paradise. Her libido starts to wake up and her desires awaken, but mom (Demeter) wants to keep her a child forever. Well, that is all good and fine, but we know how the story goes in real life....'Seph starts flirting with some good looking, tall, dark and handsome guy she starts to see on the side of the flower fields. You don't think that Hades would just grab the first thing he could? Nah, he watched her...figured out how to get close to her and courted her on the fringes of Demeter's (the conscious)realm. Of course, Hades is putting his best foot forward, and 'Seph is attracted enough to want to bed him.
Of course they fall in love/lust, whatever you want to call it and knowing that dear 'ol mom wasn't going to go for it, they staged the abduction, the first elopement and got away with it. 'Seph ate the fruit that would bind her to him, but with a twist. She wasn't stupid. She wanted both worlds. She only ate enough to bind her to him for part of the year, and this allowed her to return home the other time of the year. Pretty slick, eh? You bet. The best of both worlds. Sex and queendom (cause we should all be the queen in bed mind you!) and the world of a lady as well.
Isn't this a perfect illustration of being a lady on the street and a whore in bed? (I am hoping that you are following along with me here) because I could go on and on and elaborate forever, but I won't. But maybe you are getting a better idea of who I may be....
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Persephone is my favorite myth; holding a special place in my heart and my libido. Persephone, as a goddess archetype, came into my life many years ago and remains as fascinating to me today as she first did all that time ago. What does this have to with any form of sexuality? Well, everyone claims she was abducted/kidnapped, by Hades and tricked into eating of the Pomegranate that would permanently bind her to him forever. Poor Hades, no female in their right mind wanted to hang out with him, let alone have sex with him; he was/is the god of the underworld after all. So he resorted to stealing what he wanted and tricking her into a form of bondage.........so the story goes.
My take on it is a wee bit different. The symbology of Persephone is one of a woman who delves deeply into her 'shadow' self and comes to terms with it. Hades represents the Underworld, but also deals with anything that is repressed within our own psyches. Our sexuality is a major subconscious issue that dwells within this realm. Now,imagine if you will, if the story goes like this.....
Persephone is growing into womanhood and lives in the realm of her mother; eternal sunshine, perfect weather, right actions, blah blah blah. 'Seph starts to feel and think things that are not is agreement with this perfect paradise. Her libido starts to wake up and her desires awaken, but mom (Demeter) wants to keep her a child forever. Well, that is all good and fine, but we know how the story goes in real life....'Seph starts flirting with some good looking, tall, dark and handsome guy she starts to see on the side of the flower fields. You don't think that Hades would just grab the first thing he could? Nah, he watched her...figured out how to get close to her and courted her on the fringes of Demeter's (the conscious)realm. Of course, Hades is putting his best foot forward, and 'Seph is attracted enough to want to bed him.
Of course they fall in love/lust, whatever you want to call it and knowing that dear 'ol mom wasn't going to go for it, they staged the abduction, the first elopement and got away with it. 'Seph ate the fruit that would bind her to him, but with a twist. She wasn't stupid. She wanted both worlds. She only ate enough to bind her to him for part of the year, and this allowed her to return home the other time of the year. Pretty slick, eh? You bet. The best of both worlds. Sex and queendom (cause we should all be the queen in bed mind you!) and the world of a lady as well.
Isn't this a perfect illustration of being a lady on the street and a whore in bed? (I am hoping that you are following along with me here) because I could go on and on and elaborate forever, but I won't. But maybe you are getting a better idea of who I may be....
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Saturday, September 22, 2007
ALL ALONE
As I mentioned before, I am the masturbating queen. I chose to involve myself in a long distance relationship (for more reasons than I am going to get into right now) but suffice it to say, I have decided that long distance isn't for me.
I have masturbated a lot in the last few months. I have masturbated more than I think I ever have in my entire life. I have diddled myself on the computer, on the phone, was thinking about the web cam (decided against it) and in the shower. I have flicked my bean in the car, in my bed, in front of the mirror, on the floor. I have found myself thinking about doing it in the bathroom at work, which, thankfully, has remained just a thought.
I have done it standing up, sitting down, dogie style, splayed out on the bed and cowboy style. I have enjoyed and entertained myself while waiting for 'us' to get together for some real deal fun. It isn't like I have never masturbated before (I do know how to get the job done folks), but I have never expected this kind of solitary relationship with myself while in a relationship with someone else!
So I am here to tell you that diddling yourself for your own pleasure is a terrific hobby, a pleasurable sport and fulfills the need to a certain degree, but after so long, you realize that you are not keeping yourself company anymore. I am not willing to wait to hear his voice from afar whenever he can find a few moments to spare, because to be honest, I have discovered that I don't need to wait for someone else's convenience. I want what I want, and I want something different now.
Diddling myself to this degree has been a great educational opportunity though. I have discovered some new sexual fantasies that I didn't know I had, and talk about technique and toys...:) well, you get the gist, so I really can't say that it is all bad, because when is an orgasm EVER a negative? (This is a rhetorical question, honest)
So for now, I bid you all a goodnight...I have some business to attend to.
I have masturbated a lot in the last few months. I have masturbated more than I think I ever have in my entire life. I have diddled myself on the computer, on the phone, was thinking about the web cam (decided against it) and in the shower. I have flicked my bean in the car, in my bed, in front of the mirror, on the floor. I have found myself thinking about doing it in the bathroom at work, which, thankfully, has remained just a thought.
I have done it standing up, sitting down, dogie style, splayed out on the bed and cowboy style. I have enjoyed and entertained myself while waiting for 'us' to get together for some real deal fun. It isn't like I have never masturbated before (I do know how to get the job done folks), but I have never expected this kind of solitary relationship with myself while in a relationship with someone else!
So I am here to tell you that diddling yourself for your own pleasure is a terrific hobby, a pleasurable sport and fulfills the need to a certain degree, but after so long, you realize that you are not keeping yourself company anymore. I am not willing to wait to hear his voice from afar whenever he can find a few moments to spare, because to be honest, I have discovered that I don't need to wait for someone else's convenience. I want what I want, and I want something different now.
Diddling myself to this degree has been a great educational opportunity though. I have discovered some new sexual fantasies that I didn't know I had, and talk about technique and toys...:) well, you get the gist, so I really can't say that it is all bad, because when is an orgasm EVER a negative? (This is a rhetorical question, honest)
So for now, I bid you all a goodnight...I have some business to attend to.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Introducing myself
Well, let me just say hello and introduce myself; I am known as the masturbationg queen at this point in time and not by choice. I would personally love to be having sex at this very moment, but it is not to be. You can call me Persephone, or 'Seph if you would like, either way, I hope we can become friends.The picture above is me. It really is and I can hardly believe that I have posted it here at last. Wonders will never cease, and neither will sex, at least for the lucky few!
I intend on explaining more about myself and my name in the next post. I hope you come back to take a peek.
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