May 052015
 

When M asked me if I would do the Wicked Wednesday on dating, I figured it would be fitting… After all, I do a lot of it.

I however, would definitely not be the greatest person to ask for advice. I do a lot of dating, which means I haven’t gotten it right. It seems my picker for men is broken. I have dated a series of men who ended up being not even close to worth my time.

So, let’s go over my BAD dating habits:

I ignore a lot of red flags

I’ve fallen for it when men say they’re just starting a separation. I’ve discovered that’s code for just cheating for a bit.

I choose to believe, despite my BS sensor going off, most of the shit they tell me.

I give everyone my all, even when they’re only giving me a fraction.

I fall too fast.

I give too many chances.

I chase after men who don’t put nearly the level of effort in for me.

I have a hard time letting go.

And even when I do find an amazing man, it seems like there’s always sexual compatibility problems.

In the sea of all of these problems I have with dating, there is a bright side. I am currently seeing someone who, despite a few fail sex moments, I’ve had none of the above problems with. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but I’m not putting any pressure on it. I am however enjoying every minute of dating someone without all of the stress and bad choices I’ve made in the past. Wish me luck!
Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 12:42 am  Tagged with:
May 012015
 

I participated in the A to Z Challenge this month, which led to me reading a few new people. I found this blogger, Lillyanna Rose Submits, through that challenge. For the letter D, she writes about Domestic Discipline, and while I can’t relate to Disobedience, I love and try to practice the other Ds.

Another new blog (to me) discussed from Wicked Wednesday is Through the Smoky Looking Glass, and he writes what he does in such arousing detail how he convinces her she’s beautiful.

XCritic showcases Kayden Kross’ reasons why she likes cum, and it’s more extensive than I would have been able to articulate.

This really made me laugh. Shelby Cross discusses, slide by slide, a photo meme she read which discusses anal sex. And the article is ridiculous, which she points that out in a witty and utterly obvious frustrated way.

Molly (Molly’s Daily Kiss) describes a slow build up of anticipation and it is moments like this which fuel my desire far more than touching.

A Dissolute Life Means writes about Casual Sex Rules, and what she beautifully weaves a story in there.

Easily Aroused writes such beautiful erotica and the experiencing a new, and taboo, activity is gorgeously written.

 Posted by at 8:35 am
Apr 302015
 

Z: Our last entry for the A to Z Challenge, Z is for zipper – the most frustrating design to clothing at times.

I am naked, lying in bed beside you, propped up on one elbow. As I’m kissing you, my hands roam freely over your smooth skin – caressing the side of your face, trailing down the side of your neck, feeling the muscles bunched in your arms as you also touch me, stroking your broad expanse of chest, fingertips following the slightly hairy trail on your belly – all to be stopped by blockade of fabric around your waist.

I tugged the button undone but you stopped me before I reached the zipper. One hand encircled my wrist to halt my progress as the other hand wound itself in my hair and continued to forcefully kiss me.

I forgot my mission for awhile.

When we come up for breath, my fingertips again skimmed down and touched the cold metal clutching the fabric shield. I felt your hardness, your desire for me, as I groped for the zipper to pull down.

Again, I am pulled away, distracted.

This is a dance we do from time to time: me – fully naked, you – insisting on keeping your pants just to thwart my intentions.

With one quick tug, I could have that damn zipper down, the pants peeling to the sides, and you exposed to my view, my touch, my mouth.

You are glorious to view, my fingers twitch to feel how hard you are, and my mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.

But you insist on frustrating me.

And your zipper aids your wicked plan.

 Posted by at 8:36 am
Apr 292015
 

Y: for our A to Z Challenge, Y is for Yes!

Molly poses an interesting question of writing about “not what makes you feel sexy but what is sexy about you?”. As I read, I tried to think if I could answer this challenging question. And I was tempted to cheat and read some things that make me sexy from my husband to incorporate it into my answer – but her point was a self reflection and validation, not an external source.

I find that when I question what I view as sexy in others and then apply it to myself, I can answer yes to a lot of same traits.

What makes me sexy?

I am sexy – though I don’t always feel so.

I am self confident – and confidence is ridiculously sexy.

I am strong – I have been through things in my life that make me never doubt my ability physically, mentally, emotionally.

I am creative – a handy tool for sexy play.

I am independent – to bend me to another’s will is sight to behold but I don’t need it, I can handle myself and normally others.

My body is soft and curvy – such a wonderful feeling to sink into, and curves…mmm.

My body is resilient – I have given birth, had injuries, lost and gain weight and I am aware of my physical limitations.

My body is active – I engage in rough (and not rough) sex, wrestle, hike, do yoga, lift weights, and a host of other activities.

I am curious – this makes me get out of routines and comfort zones and explore in an adventurous way.

I am decisive – I tend to know what I want and what I’m willing to compromise quickly.

I am vocal – I will tell what my limits are, what my happiness is, what has made me upset or frustrated; I don’t expect anyone to be able to read my mind. Someone will know when I am orgasming or is touching me in the right way.

I am intelligent – and that is such a sexy trait to me.

I am an active listener – and being heard creates a connection that few other things do.

I am honest – trustworthiness is an important factor in connecting to another for me.

I am positive – if something isn’t okay I will do my best to communicate that in a proactive but positive way. Likewise, I am likely to go up to a stranger and compliment them. Negative attitudes are the opposite of sexy (which isn’t to say that I am always happy).

I am an active lover – I will not lie down and passively let someone be intimate with me; I will take a very active part in the process.

I have a sense of humor – and laughter is sexy.

I am kind – because being a bitch or cold right off the bat isn’t sexy (unless that’s what someone wants).

  • Long Term Sexy Factors:

I let things go – I don’t hold grudges. I tell myself I can “get over it, or get bitter over it,” and why would I ever choose to get bitter? Big issues: I will remove myself from the situation, as I cannot get over everything, but I can choose to disengage.

Sex is my cure-all – having a partner who has a button that (when pushed) forgives, forgets arguments, releases anger, feels better when sad, and other such negativities is such a great feature; I wish I could find it on someone else. It’s sexy, and it lets a couple have a “time out” when needed to break any tension. The button is sex, by the way.

I am not these things because others view them as sexy. This is what I find turns me on and I also find it within myself; if given more time, I could add to this list, as I find many things sexy. In looking back, very few qualities are of a physical variety, and I truly do view physical as being a smaller part of the sexy puzzle.

I am not going to be everyone’s idea of sexy, not even close. I do not strive to change myself in such ways as to make everyone happy and no one could be desirable to all.

I am also aware of my faults and shortcomings (some days all too aware of them). But this post is about embracing what makes me sexy.

 Posted by at 8:06 am
Apr 282015
 

X is for X Factor… Sometimes, the crazy ex really IS crazy…

Not long ago I had a pretty painful breakup. It was a lot to deal with, and I struggled with bad depression. There was a lot of crying and hiding from the world. My friends all encouraged me to go on casual dates just to get out of the house. While I was still not wanting to get involved, I figured socializing wouldn’t hurt.

I went out to dinner with a very nice man. It was fun, the conversation pleasant. He was just getting separated from his “crazy” wife, and with my recent breakup, it seemed like we could go out and not be pressured into something neither of us was ready for. We got along so well in fact, that he invited me over the next day to have some wine and hang out.

He’s a father of two small children, and it was his time with them. I wasn’t very comfortable with being around the kids so soon, but we scheduled for after bedtime, and it wasn’t like I was spending the night. We hadn’t even kissed yet. He had grabbed a bottle of my favorite wine, and seemed very excited to have me over. I’d been the first woman he’d asked on a second date since his separation.

About an hour into our evening, there suddenly comes a pounding on the front door…

He goes outside into the hallway of his apartment complex and I hear a woman yelling. He comes in a minute later stating that the crazy ex wife had shown up. It’s the first time she’s ever done this. Less than a minute later there comes an even more furious pounding on the door. He gets up, and again goes back outside.

At this point there’s an adorable little face peeking around the corner.

I sat on the couch determined not to interfere. Especially with the children. You can hear a scuffle going on outside as Crazy McWifey is trying to push past him into the house. She’s yelling like a mad woman now.

I resolutely stay where I’m at as another bedroom door opens, another cherub face peeking out.

Yelling, obscenities, more scuffle at the door…

Let me preface my very firm stand on not interfering with children. I work with children. It’s a cardinal sin for me to interfere with a parent’s way of raising their child. Especially with children that I don’t have a direct relationship with….

That’s when their son tells their daughter (both children under 6) “Daddy has to call the cops on mommy!”

I shot off that couch as though a fire were burning under my ass. I quickly tuck the 3 year old adorable girl into bed, rub her hair and tell her everything is OK, go back to sleep. She nuzzles my hands, tucks her thumb in her mouth and closes her eyes. I tuck the older boy into bed, telling him everything is OK, daddy will be back in a second, and that he needed to stay in bed with the door closed and not to listen.

I sat back on the couch just in time for the front door to open and for my date to escort a woman in. He introduces the two of us. She promptly starts rapid firing questions at me. Her voice is incredibly loud as she says that it is “outrageous” and “completely not appropriate” for him to have “some whore” in the house while HER children are in bed. Meanwhile bedroom doors have opened, and little faces with wide eyes are watching.

She continues to ask if we’ve slept together, how long we’ve been seeing each other… The list goes. Meanwhile, I have grabbed my shoes and was quietly putting them on. I excused myself, said I’d let them talk, and gathered up my things. He goes to walk me to my car, where she follows outside the door, the sound of her children crying behind her. As he goes to give me a hug, meanwhile profusely apologizing, she yells out across the parking lot “You need to get inside, your son is crying for you, you asshole!!! What a great dad!!!”

And you know what? I was upset with my ex, depressed, sad, angry. Suddenly though, with this- the worst date of my life, I felt better. It really put things into perspective for me…

I could walk away from MY crazy ex. His was delivery!

 Posted by at 4:36 pm
Apr 272015
 

For our A to Z Challenge, W is for website search terms, with a focus on “bondage blunders” for a new meme, Sexy Searching.

As of just a few months ago (because I’ve always looked at the search engine terms that lead to us), one search term that was always prominent was “blowjob mother” or some such combination. I get why they found us, as oddly enough that combination of words is in a title of one of our posts, Our Mother’s Blow Job Story, and the main idea. Still, it always made me think of what are people really looking for. Heck, I’ve even done a pie graph for some nerdy blogging statistics, and every month features a search term with “masturbation” in it. I seek to know as much as I can about my audience, without going so far as to do a survey (though I participate in others’ surveys if they have them).

So I was excited when Wank of the Day began a new meme, Sexy Searching, with the concept being on search terms. Since the photo was taken on my phone, it is not an all-inclusive list of the terms, but they trickle down to just one term views, so I’m perfectly happy with that.

Bondage is pretty big with A and me, as even here it’s listed three different ways. Bondage has been written about 107 so far (and that’s just the ones that we remember to tag with it). Though bondage has been written about with cuffs, corsets, t-shirts or other clothing, vet wrap, and other ways, primarily when we tag bondage it’s for rope bondage.

I’ll focus this month on “bondage blunders” as the search term. Both my sister and I strive to be honest in the blooper moments of our sexual explorations as much as the wonderful successes. So I’ll explore where this term will take someone, and some behind the scenes not written about experiences. After all, not every moment goes well, and rope bondage can be especially complicated depending on what someone is attempting.

I first wrote about this in June 2014: “…fucking me senseless. However, there were some flaws with this set up. Yep, that’s right: I’m taking this realistically. Don’t get me wrong, he teased and pleased the fuck out of me. He even stopped halfway and checked in with me…” –Child’s PoseNot all experiences with rope have gone stellar. My first lesson in being better about speaking up when something hurts.

Behind the scenes, April 2015, I shared a picture taken shortly after a suspension that went wrong (where he had to cut the ropes). I rested for a moment, stretched and snuggled, and checked in with my body after I was down, and then he requested to only do a partial suspension, wax, and knife play with me – to which I agreed. (I love this, it shows that just because something goes wrong doesn’t mean that everything has to stop the rest of the night.)

I’ve also shared another suspension learning curve on being inverted. The ropes and suspension were good, but a brief complication and playfulness caused husband and me to lose track of time and I was upside down for far too long.

And then there is my rope scene, a new frustration with me:

“Yep, this is my rope scene…it’s a work in progress, and a work of patience that neither of us have quite mastered…I have actually stated that if the connection doesn’t start happening, I’m done with suspensions…” – My Rope Scene

“I peered down, saw his focus below me, and did a quick head bob. His own head looked up and I tried very hard to appear serious and intense, not cracking a smile and certainly not making eye contact to give my mischievous self away.” – Shake It Off

Suspensions can be risky, and most recommend while learning suspensions you should be around experienced people. So we learned with others, were used to public “scenes” by this point (and not until suspensions), and while others saw that we clearly loved each other, we didn’t feel connected during suspensions. We aren’t performing and as long as we are connecting and having the time that we expect, that it is all that matters. I realized that I will never look others in their rope scene, and that it’s okay to be uniquely us.

A even has bondage blunders due to a furry little one, who decided one day to chew on some rope and a book.

#SexySearching