Aug 302015

Masturbation Monday: Week 52Let me tell you why this is hot:

It is hot because she is so spread open and exposed (we’ll call her Exposed). It is hot because the other woman (we’ll call her Other) has a hand on her thigh above the knee – a great place to hold open Exposed’s leg does she decide to close it when the sensations become overwhelming (a reaction I have). Other is focused on Exposed’s body, something I sincerely appreciate when a lover does, being fully in the present with just this moment and this gorgeous body beside her.

Other’s fingers are in a motion that would tease me, especially if after an orgasm already, but not please me. My chest would rise and fall like Exposed’s as I took great heaving breaths to deal with the sensations flooding my body, tightening my core and making my sex clench in anticipation.

This is hot because this is a moment that not only can I relate to, but I can easily put myself in.

This is the stuff of masturbation material.

 Posted by at 6:27 am
Aug 272015

I’ve written two posts recently that I feel need a reflection.

Both are incredibly personal in my marriage. My husband knows these thoughts, we have conversations about them for extended periods of time – nothing that is written here is new or would shock him in any way, as a matter of fact I discuss that I write about them to him before ever hitting publish.

We are quite happy in our marriage. But this is also real life and nothing is perfect. What makes me feel free to write so personally about any problems that we may be having is that I know we’ll get through them, because we are committed to each other’s happiness, and will communicate and compromise until we get to a place that is fulfilling to us both.

Lesson Learned: I can’t reread this yet, it still hurts, it’s too raw still. Heck, I cried in public and felt that he didn’t acknowledge me when we were using rope for the sole purpose of connection. However, this isn’t a new issue. I’ve some thoughts:

First off, I can’t even tie any single column tie (basic ties). I am not the rope top/rigger, and I can’t even imagine how hard that is for a number of reasons. It takes creativity, in-depth knowledge, and being very aware of the safety of the bottom (love of his life, in my case). In learning suspensions for so long, we’ve been practicing more than playing and it’s probably hard to get the mindset into a different place if you’re a top (when it’s more self-motivating, I think). I fully understand how challenging it is to be in his position, I just wish he would connect with the basic things that he can do even blindfolded and just stick to those skills when we are scening versus practicing.

Secondly, this may be why I’m turning into such a brat in rope. At least if I’m playful, I am getting the attention of him. I almost feel like a child – any attention will do, even negative attention. I need to do my part and help him get into the right head space somehow, I need to stop distracting him with my bratty antics when I think that he isn’t paying me enough attention, give him the space and time needed. I used to be patient, and awhile ago I decided I wasn’t going to be. That isn’t fair, and now it puts unnecessary pressure on him. (For the record, however, Lesson Learned I was not a brat.)

Lastly, even with just the two of us in the bedroom, without the large safety concerns of suspensions (though of course we’re always conscious of safety), he doesn’t connect to me when he has rope in his hands. I am simply in a different frame of mind because I know that once I’m tied, I’m in for an amazing time, where he is connected and focused on me for long periods of time. I need to treat suspensions the same – once I’m up maybe then he’ll pay attention to me, or truly I just need to stop expecting a scene from him publicly and keep myself content with our amazing moments in the bedroom. The only problem I see with this is sometimes he wants to scene at a social or event, but we mean different things by this – I am expecting a connection, he wants to practice rope concepts, and occasionally play with me up in the air in between practicing.

Monogamy Issues: I do struggle with monogamy. I want to have sex with many people that I feel a connection to, and some overwhelmingly so. The closer I feel to someone, the closer I want to be. It has nothing to do with my love for my husband, nor my desire; we also have an amazing sex life.

He has stated that he would be willing to try to open our relationship in baby steps. Right now we’re dealing some rough transitions in our life, so once it settles perhaps we’ll try it. I need us to have a solid foundation in our life and relationship before we shake things up. But I appreciate how he’s open minded and willing, so hopefully soon things will settle down.

 Posted by at 5:49 am
Aug 252015

My husband and I attended a rope intensive.

The lesson to learn that weekend was connecting with your rope bottom. Oh sure, there were ties to learn, but ultimately it was: don’t worry about aesthetics or symmetry as much, make it about the experience with another person, about the rope being an extension of yourself.

Make the model look beautiful, the instructor said. Start with the arms bound together in the front and pose the person as you want them, as you would desire them the most. Create art.

Everyone got immediately to work, their arms were bound together and mine weren’t even close. “Touch one another as you tie,” was instructed, and he threw my legs over his legs, he and I facing each other. He untied the tie he just did, didn’t like the symmetry going down my arms; scooted a bit back, my legs barely on him. Untied and moved a bit further apart, and then again, until there was this wide chasm that we were no longer touching in.

“I just don’t like how the rope looks,” he said in way of apology when glancing around he noticed everyone was done or almost done. Bottoms were posed as their partners felt complimented them, oftentimes with other simplistic ties to hold them in that pose.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I murmured under my breath, choking back tears as I stared stubbornly about the the abundance of floor between us.

“I’ll try again,” he told me, the rope wrapping around but his hands not making contact with my skin. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he untied yet again.

“I don’t want to talk, because then I’ll cry,” I whispered, avoiding eye contact because then I knew that I would break. I wasn’t sure how much clearer I could have made that I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to cry, especially in a room full of people.

“Please talk to me,” he pleaded, and then persisted. He was going to make me cry after all.

Tears streamed down my face, privately, I hoped, please have let it be privately, “it’s not about the tie, it’s about connection, and about me.”

He held me and promised to try again. I sucked up my emotions, braced myself to not hope…we’ve down this road before, and we separated from the embrace. Another tie, rope crisscrossing down my arms, pretty knots interwoven between them.

Nothing else.

“Isn’t the rope pretty?” he declared, proud of himself, setting himself even further back to admire his handiwork, only looking intently at the rope.

I was so proud of myself – I didn’t cry again.

Aren’t I pretty? Aren’t I here? I thought in my head.

I’m not sure that he learned the lesson, but I hate continuing to learn the painful one.
Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 9:47 am
Aug 232015

Questions found from Insatiable Desire:

Day 1:

Dom, sub, switch?  What parts of BDSM interest you?  Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

*My biggest identifying titles/labels to my least:

Wife: while many wouldn’t find this kinky, it’s because of this title that I truly felt the trust needed to open up about my darkest desires. We have a goal to always be together, we just don’t know where the road where veer to explore a bit more from time to time.

ADD Brat: most often evident when he is tying me. My friends chuckle at our dynamic in this, as I can’t help but look at the rope (you never should, it’s how you get whipped in the face), or teasing him about something, or dancing in my rope before I’m up and suspended, or talking to others around me (unless I’m in subspace). While he complains, and tends to hurt me a bit in warnings, he secretly (and not so secretly sometimes) really likes this aspect of us. Our overall dynamic could be described as playful, and this aspect of myself makes that evident.

Rope bottom/bunny/slut: I really don’t care what’s after the rope title, but I love being tied.

Light weight: I am not a masochist. Get me in the right head space, and I want pain. Get me in subspace, and I can deal with quite a bit of it. However, I would describe myself as a lightweight with pain. I’m currently in negotiations with a rope top, and she informed me that she’ll have to learn to be more playful than sadistic because we want to play together but I’m a wimp.

Primal: My husband and I wrestle, roughly. For the most part, it’s for control or to show who’s on top. These tend to be issued challenges (from either of us) – a clear communication to the other that we want it rough. Bruises will occur, kicking, scratching; we will be sweaty and breathless. I love this as it’s as close as I ever get to consensual non consent play; he will eventually overpower me (I’ve only won once) and force himself in between my legs, gloating over his victory. He’ll have earned it – these last for a minimum of an hour.

Switch: I prefer being a bottom/submissive. However, this is only towards BDSM/sex/kink; in my day to day life I am very dominating and a bit controlling (I think there’s a difference). So for me to take control in the bedroom is an easy adjustment; it’s because I am always in control that I would prefer to not be in that role of top/dominant, despite my ability to take on the role.

Submissive: Get me in the right head space, and I am everything submissive. I will do anything, be anything, endure anything that is asked. However, this is a hard switch for me, so it takes time, or really knowing what shifts gears in my head, hence why it’s so low on this list.

 Posted by at 9:00 am
Aug 212015
sinful friday bondage pics 3
mutual masturbation skype shows 2
masturbation material 2
cammiesonthefloor 2
cammmies on the floor

Sexy Searching is a meme that that looks to the most searched for terms to lead people to the blog. Time to give credit to our longest search term, and one that pops up every month: Masturbation. I’m going to attempt to examine why, when this is our longest and most consistent search term, I haven’t written about it until now.

Sis A first wrote about this topic, including a picture, in regards to mutual masturbation.

“Sexting, Skype, and phone calls are becoming more and more a part of everyday masturbation tools, much like porn. With high quality and ease of photo taking available on your phone, naughty antics is mobile and convenient.” – Mutual Masturbation

For some reason, I’ve been a bit more hesitant to discuss it. Shy? Ashamed? I’m not really sure on the emotion, but for some reason I hesitated to masturbate even in my youth, not doing it until I was in my twenties, and had been sexually active with others for awhile already; so perhaps it’s just a delayed thing to write about as well. Sex bombards our society; whereas masturbation is a closely guarded secret. It seemed okay for me to share my body with others, for our mutual pleasure, but to just please myself – that seemed wrong, selfish, self-centered. I don’t believe that my family influenced this in any way – after all, Sis A had no problems sharing about it very early on with writing on the topic.

I am also quite shy in this regard, and almost never please myself if my partner can please me. Apparently my husband became used to this behavior and took it as almost an insult when I did masturbate (without him):

“I don’t do this activity often. And never if he’s home…I don’t even masturbate much when he isn’t home, perhaps once a month or every other month, (people view this as odd as I will gladly have sex all day long) and didn’t see anything wrong with taking care of myself while I waited for him.” –Sexual Hangups (*Nov 2014)

We (sort of) worked through the issue of masturbation without him if he’s home, but it’s not something that I’ve really done since (again, it’s mostly because I don’t feel the urge to when he’s available). And while I know it turns him on to watch me pleasure myself (something I really only do when he asks it of me, and then only if we’re separated/long distance), I struggle to do this in the presence of another. For one, I feel like I have to perform. For another, it still seems so secretive to me, so private, so vulnerable somehow.

Just recently (and I’ll include the *actual date of writing rather than publishing) have I felt comfortable writing about masturbation – either in my habits, what I fantasize about, or what I read to turn me on. Here are a few examples that I wrote about (and to be perfectly honest, cringed when I hit “publish”):


“I give a lot of credit to the people that I follow and read online, and when I find something that turns me on or intrigues me, I add it to my monthly roundup of great reads. And I also will occasionally add in a book I’m reading” – Mental Masturbation Material (July 2014)


“But even with myself, I wasn’t in the mood for soft.  I tugged and pinched my nipples, felt the ripple of pleasure go through my core and connect with my cunt” – Rough Fantasy (Feb 2015)

“Orgasm denial… something that seriously turns me all the while frustrating me at the same time.**I haven’t had any of these experiences, these are four separate dreams or fantasies that I’ve had this last week.” – Rope and Denial Fantasy (March 2015)


Habits (though to be fair, I would orgasm all day from a partner, not myself as the first sentence may imply):

“When I ovulate, I masturbate. If given the opportunity, I would orgasm all day. All day – that’s not a dramatized statement, it’s a want and need that some rare days I am fortunate enough to experience” – All Day Need (July 2015)


Fiction (thank you Masturbation Monday for pushing me further out of my comfort zone):

“she dreamed of the room pitched in midnight. Her hands lazily wandered to the juncture between her thighs as she explored the darker places” – Unresponsive Satisfaction (Aug 2015)

So that’s where masturbation as a search term may take a reader. Upon writing this, I’ve actually discovered that my own masturbation thoughts tend to veer towards kinky elements, and not soft and slow moments. I also will write about masturbation more when I’m ovulating. Perhaps this is the benefit of writing in this way – it’s revealing.

*And I actually wrote this today. So know that I’m terribly shy and withdrawn right now, as I hit send. One day I hope to break this annoying habit.

However, consider this: many of us masturbate, but few rarely discuss, and rarer still is those who write about it and then publish it so publicly.#SexySearching

 Posted by at 5:19 pm
Aug 202015

Ht Honey by a fence
Photo courtesy of HT Honey

Welcome to Elust #73

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #74? Start with the rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

My shame
Has E L James broken erotica?
Sex Addiction is a Scam

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Goodbye, I’m Gone
sharing my inspiration

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

Eroticon 2015 Pay it forward

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days.

Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Erotic Non-Fiction

Watching you
His Vulnerability Creates Magic.
It really was a Wicked Wednesday
His First Cuckold Experience
Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 53
The Pole Dancer

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Gentleman Is the Opposite of Feminist
My Criteria for Rating Sex

Erotic Fiction

The Hunt’s Spectators
Peeping Tom
By the Sea, Part 1
Have You Been Naughty?
The Ritual
Triple Dog Dare
Eye Spy
Bound For Pleasure
Daddy Wants to Play

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Dealing With A Husband Who Can’t Cum
The Menopause Diaries
Balancing the Scales
On Cheating
On language learning and sex

Writing About Writing

What I Intend When I Write About Sex
Writing Erotica as a Disabled Top

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

What else could be done with BDSM checklists?
Crafting Your Craft: Serving With Passion
Social Masochist
The Last Word
“Only submissive to someone special”

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Aug 182015

I was once called a serial monogamist by my best friend. It was the first time I heard of it.

Urban Dictionary defines it (in the ways that fit me):

  1. one who spends as little time as possible being single, moving from the end of one relationship to the beginning of a new relationship as quickly as possible…serial monogamy is the desire and ability to enter new relationships very quickly, thus abbreviating any period of single life during which the serial monogamist may begin to ask questions of an existential nature
  1. A descriptor for a person who has commitment issues but does not engage in cheating or infidelity. A serial monogamist likes the emotional and physical intimacy of relationships and therefore seeks partners who want a longterm romantic relationship. A serial monogamist may or may not warn their partner about their fear of commitment. (Often the partners foolishly believe they will be able to change this about the serial monogamist.)The relationship may be short-lived or it may last a few months to years, however the serial monogamist is always holding back and if the other partner in the romance pushes at all, the serial monogamist will end the relationship swiftly and often without emotion.

I’m not entirely sure this comes across in any of my blogging. After all, I’m the happily married sister with kids.

What is not often seen is how crazy I would drive my once-upon-a-time very old-fashioned husband. I would attempt to break up with him all the time when we were dating, and my friend would talk me down from that (sometimes without him knowing about it before I even began damaging the relationship). She was used to me, had figured out my patterns, and was determined that I deserved the happiness he seemed to promise. (Though, looking back, I am not convinced I was fighting against happiness.)

Because she had termed me before I met him, I was incredibly open and honest with him how I truly did fit a serial monogamist in many ways. I warned him I would create chaos when it seemed we were most happy, how I would second guess, how I would be perfectly fine with monogamy for years – convincing both him and myself that I am capable of being with just one man – until suddenly I wouldn’t be okay with it. I warned him so he would stay away, or stay at his own risk, because one thing was clear to me by that point in my life – I couldn’t do monogamy for life (and perhaps it was due to a happiness issue).

We had been friends for years beforehand. He had only been in one relationship before, had only ever even kissed one woman before me. I slept with him within three days of breaking off a seven year committed relationship – he was safe and comfortable, a spring board to what I what I wanted (of sleeping around and having many relationships, living my life under my own terms – something I did not end up doing, but that was the plan).

I should’ve known that those terms – while out in the open – were not his intentions though he agreed to them. Should have known because he was known to me – a friend. Within a couple of months, he pushed for a commitment – gently at first, requested sexual monogamy, then dating. I pushed him to sleep with others – convinced if he settled down with me that he would regret not “sowing his wild oats”, that he would hit midlife crisis point and cheat (I dislike dishonesty), that he would always wonder what was out there, that he had no clue how good we were together and therefore screw it up thinking the grass was always greener. My friend and he both convinced me that he just wasn’t like that, that I couldn’t project things on another, some people didn’t have the same urges.

Next thing I knew, we were engaged (it took years, but it felt like it was moving along quickly to me). Then marriage, for years.

Every six months or so during this whole process, I would feebly attempt to extract myself away from him. He understood my flirtatious (I’ve been told this, I don’t see it most of the time) nature, he encouraged me to go out and lap hop, flirt, make friends with whomever I wanted, snuggle with others. We compromised on “no-no zones” of where people could not touch me, discussed that I have no issues with being touched (consensual, of course) and did not view it the same way he did. With these clearly defined but very generous boundaries, I felt like I could be content in monogamy (remember, I can convince myself I can do it). It wasn’t a happiness issue, nor even a commitment issue – I want to be with him for life…

I wasn’t content in monogamy anymore.

He actually requested a foursome that we did engaged in; and then later, we engaged in a threesome. He reluctantly agreed to polyamory – and then decided he couldn’t do it with the stress that he was professionally experiencing at the time.

We are ridiculously happy; we have a sex life that is consistently fantastic; we communicate and truly enjoy spending time with each other. To an outsider, they may not understand why I want to engage with someone new; he doesn’t and I barely understand it enough to explain it due to a mire of conformity. I’ve read books, tried to get him to read, paraphrased what I have read when it is appropriate to me.

I see-saw like crazy on this matter. The minute he lets me know I am hurting him with my desires, I pull back, shove my foot in my mouth and make a muck out of expressing the whys. I take it all back, tuck my tail between my legs and try to stay quiet with my wants both internally and to him.

And then it rears its ugly head and we begin the dance all over again.

A weakness in me that I hate is when I find someone I connect with on a level that I then want to sleep with (the temptation – I’m not doing it); I wish I could just be content and happy.  But monogamy, to me, is a cultural belief system that doesn’t fit me. I am really in love with my husband, but I have not lost interest in others. I agreed to try on monogamy, despite my misgivings, because I felt I had no choice if I wanted to remain with him – and I still unquestioningly want to remain with him. An outside involvement would in no way take away from the love or intimacy that I share with him – at least from my side. The Ethical Slut calls this starvation economy – a fear that if you love one, you must love another less (I’ve used their great analogy of having more than one child – you don’t have a limit on how much love you can give another so the more children you have, the less love they get).

There are many people who can practice ethical non-monogamy, I would like to be one of them; I don’t know if we as a couple can, though we’ve survived our few trips into it. I have been nothing but honest in who I am, and though I’ve tried to self-impose cultural values and judged myself harshly for failing, I am tired of the internalized oppression. And I don’t even necessarily want to fall in love with another – though I’m not opposed to the idea. I want sexual friendships – a place between polyamory and one-night stands since I think that would be meeting in the middle for us. For the most part, I really am quite content with just him and I.

And while my husband seems to really understand and love me, I don’t know that he will accept me in this. I certainly don’t want him to compromise who he is either – he should not agree to something unless he’s accepting/understanding/comfortable doing something. But just as I don’t want him to live a lie, I no longer wish to. I understand that though I’ve expressed these things, I still agreed to marriage with all its old-fashioned concepts of only he and I; I understand I am trying to change the dynamics of that singular symbolic decision; I understand that it’s not fair to him.

These thoughts are certainly not original, nor is my stand – we’ve had this conversation countless times; and to be perfectly honest, odds are I’ll backtrack and put myself in a corner and wait it out until I need to voice it again. But my ultimate fear is I’ll become dishonest with him in my quest to not hurt him with my desires. He also knows this fear.


Wicked Wednesday

 Posted by at 6:00 am
Aug 172015

Masturbation Monday Week 50We cuddled, lazy on a morning that the bustle of life can wait for. His fingers wandered around the curves of my body. As they skimmed my thighs and nipples, I caught my breath, moaned a little. He smiled, a smile I recognize when he realizes that I am sensitive and he is going to continue to get more of my reactions. He kissed me, gently nudged me onto my side, pressed his warm body against my back, and his finger slipped so easily into my body. I moaned and raised a leg, draped it over his thighs to give him more access. His finger slid out and up to my clit, circled a few times. His finger teased in and out, spread my juices around, rubbed my gspot, almost got me there, and then withdrew completely.

I whined. “Oh is there something I can do for you?” he whispered, his voice still husky from not using it during the night, his words tickling my neck. I reached back and gripped his upper thigh, pulled him closer into my body, felt his erection. He softly fingered me, a pace that was maddeningly only because it was unhurried and my body tensed for so long in anticipation. As I clenched around his fingers, as I felt my juices coat and the waves of pleasure come, he bit down where neck and shoulder meet. I came as his teeth applied delightful pressure to muscle, as he marked me for a later reminder of this intimate moment. He let go of my skin as my body released from the climax and rested his face on the back of my head, in contrast my own panting – his breath still was slowly coming in and out and brushing against the wet bite marks.

He continued to finger me, now in an insistent and harsh way that makes me squirt, and I knew he wouldn’t give up until I did. My thighs were coated in this orgasm, his fingers creating a noisy concert as they directed just one more orgasm after squirting, again slowly guiding me there, allow my body a more relaxed state, the scent of my pleasure drifting delightfully about the room.

We continued spooning after his fingers withdrew, and despite how hard he still was pressed against my body, he seemed content to drift back towards slumber again.

 Posted by at 8:08 am