Jan 132017

An item on my 101 things list, an ABC and 123 of me:

A – affectionate, amorphous, amateur

B – beguiled, bittersweet, blogger, brazen

C – creative, careless, civil

D – damaged, decisive, deflated, devilish, disheveled, dirty, disgruntled, dreamer

E – energetic, emotional, eager, educated, excited

F – fanciful, fair, fearful, firstborn, flexible, focused

G – gutsy, grieving, gluttonous, gracious, gloomy, generous, gentle

H – handful, halting, hardworking, haphazard, headstrong

I – impulsive, independent, irritable, immoral, intimate, intense, injured, idealistic

J – just, jaded, jubiliant

K – kind, kinky, knowledgeable

L – lover, lecherous, labelled, layered, little

M – muted, maternal, merciful, minx, maddening

N – naughty and nice, neglectful, nagging, naive, nerdy, needy

O – open-minded, opinionated, offbeat

P – playful, passionate, patronizing, pale, petulant

Q – quaint, qualified, quick, quirky

R – reactive, radiant, ready, real, reckless, readable

S – spontaneous, silly, sexual, sheepish, slippery

T – taboo, trying, tired, trustful, terrified, talkative

U – uncensored, unsteady

V –  visceral, voluptuous, vulnerable, vibrant, vocal

W – willful, weakened, wet, wild, wanderlust, warm, wanting


Y – yielding, yearning, youthful

Z – zany, zippy

0 – grandparents still alive

1 – vehicle

2 – children

3 – other children that are like my own

4 – my favorite time to wake up

5 – random sex hook ups during slutfest

6 – my birth month

7 – about the time that I become absolutely worthless in energy

8 – the age when the sexual abuse stopped for me

9 – how many memes that I’ve participated in that have since retired

Jan 112017

Wicked WednesdayAnticipation is the biggest form of foreplay for me. Let me repeat that: the biggest form of foreplay. Making plans, picking out toys, seeing the look in his eyes, hearing the words…all those are anticipation moments. Taking a breath and holding it as I wait to see what he will do next as he pauses, even during the moment it’s foreplay.

So here are some moments I’ve written:

“For me, foreplay is even better if there is anticipation of what’s to occur; I don’t want to know the details, as a matter of fact, I orgasm harder if I don’t know the play-by-play, however I’m already worked up when he tells me that he has plans for me, that I need to prepare/rest/make the time for a long session.”My Best Orgasms

It began with a request for the misery stick and wax, after a long and trying period of not seeing each other. I had fantasized about him all day, touching myself periodically throughout the day in anticipation.”Melding Pleasure and Pain

“As tempting a sight as that is, get naked and lay on the bed,” he commanded, and she felt herself tightening in anticipation. She scurried to get up, in such a rush to discard her clothing that she cast them upon the little box.”The Darkness

“There was a lot of tension, as we stood there in there in the shower fully naked, facing each other. We had never been alone and naked for one. For another, we were moving a long term friendship into something more for truly the first time. I was the first to break eye contact and moved past him…”Moving Beyond Friendship

“My emotions spiraled out, sense was disoriented, expectation unreasonable, tangled hopes, exaggerated emotions. And then the moment came, and the world was still, and all of the many people surrounding me ceased to exist…”Welcome Home

And if I do know what to expect, sometimes that adds a whole different flavor of anticipation:

“Sometimes, it’s worse knowing what to expect. Our second time doing a scene together, the bruises on my thighs already healed a few weeks from the last time, and now I knew that in this scene they would bruise and tender to the touch again…I tensed in anticipation, my body fighting rather than surrendering to the sensations of his body weight pressing intentionally from behind the already rope-gripped top of my thighs. My back arched a bit more; I would have clung to the ground or clawed it if my hands weren’t tied behind my back. Previously, how had I dealt with this so easily to the point where I was barely aware?”Standing Expectation

And sometimes it’s a glorious mind game to work against my expectations:

“Sitting in front of him, exhausted and sweaty from the pain of our scene, I thought that he was going to untie the chest harness. He had already unbound my legs, ran his graceful hands over heated skin in the wake of the rope, so next up was my chest untied. Right?


Even coming down from the spacey high of the scene, my unconscious background noise was beginning all over again, a realization made evident only when my wrong assumption was brought to light. Proven wrong, the wisps of vague notions of what I should be doing and how I’m doing stilled…

His fingers again went to the base of my skull, soothed at a slow pace, yet I still found myself tensing, waiting…hoping.”When I thought the Scene Was Done

I’ve even been inspired to write a whole thought process of anticipating in remembrance:

“Thoughts overtake me. Walking, attempting to sleep, sitting down, in the company of others when it’s not appropriate the thoughts rush my body. Wicked imaginings: I envision you. Heat, moans, a quickening of the breath, water pouring down us both. Guilty pleasures flash through my head, bad but oh so good. Whispers of limits, shattered lines, softly uttered curses, religious prayers, and begging of need. Feeling, taste, sight, overwhelming my body, forcing my breaths heavy, devastating my senses. Becoming an obsession, addiction, a drug I need inside my body. Oh the things I need to do to you:  I yearn to have my lips, my tongue, and my hands all over your body, my body gliding along yours. Memories flashing, burning through my head, coursing down my body.  A tightening of where I crave you most. Stop, but to no avail; I bite my lip.  So amazing, overpowering, consuming, fulfilling. Each thought of you my body begs for your touch, careless that it can’t partake. Tender from bittersweet pleasures, a physical reminder of what was. Erotic. Pulsating. Throbbing, hot, wet. Oh God, just once more, one chance encounter, one moment, but it won’t be enough, just a slight cooling and releasing until the next buildup. I’ve had a taste, I desire more. A memory to savor, torture on cold nights. I can already hear my moans for more, sense my body arching towards yours. Anticipation. Waiting. Aching for the moment. I think of you and my blood pounds, excitement mounting. I can feel your deep breathing next to my ear; eyes conveying longing, your desire pressing hard and ready against my skin. Your lips gently pulling on mine. Our bodies entwined, unable to deny urges. Can’t get enough; you’ve taken over my thoughts, my body now powerless to our yearnings. We shouldn’t, so good, stop, please I need you. I can’t alleviate it, I won’t resist, no longer want to. Make me feel the things I crave. I can almost savor you in my mouth, your hands gently in my hair, compelling me on. Smell you on my skin, a stimulating, impetuous scent. Feel you in my body, overwhelming, pushing, engulfing. When I was mindless with heady passion, not yet you said softly then, the words no truer than now. But like then, it’s only a matter of time. Bad thoughts…guilty pleasures.” – Guilty Pleasures

Jan 022017

“People are surprised you are able to keep on going at all, they compliment you all the time. They are surprised you haven’t crashed,” Mr. Texas commented, when I lamented that I haven’t been writing recently. I’ve barely been surviving on the domestic front either. Everything seems such a struggle.

“I am shocked I haven’t crashed yet either, I feel like it’s around every corner, could happen at any moment,” I replied, lying in bed, recovering from jet lag as I watched him wrap him Christmas presents that I had bought but had no energy to wrap after traveling to another country.

Mr. Texas takes excellent care of me, so much so that I’ve officially moved in with him. He even added that he felt like perhaps I won’t crash the way I fear because he is here to support me, not to mention that I’m on medicine right now to help me limp along with my emotional wreckage of a life. I hadn’t been sleeping to the point where I could no longer function – it’s amazing what some sleep and emotional stability can provide to functioning.

So let’s catch up my life to speed:

2016 greeted me with my husband wanting a divorce – which ripped my heart out and left me a shadow of my former self. The divorce also left me abandoned in my former hometown, looking for a new job and away from my support system of friends and my sister.

Somehow, during this stressful period, two men have been kind enough to care for me: Mr. Texas and The Wanderer. My relationship with both of them has been rocky, especially reconciling with my ex husband briefly, but they are supportive and patient through my struggles.

Before I felt fully myself from the divorce, my baby sister died unexpectedly. My family leaned on me, the way they always have for some odd reason (they say it’s because I’m the most responsible and strongest though I feel far from that), but I simply could not handle even the littlest things reeling from another loss so dear to my heart.

Mr. Texas, throughout it all, has held me and stepped up when I simply couldn’t stand on my own. We have a ton of issues – mostly coming from my end, but after my sister died and sex and hurty rope didn’t offer the comfortable escape I sought, Mr. Texas simply opened up his arms and held me through the tears, kissed and beat and fucked my body until I temporarily could seek release from it all.

When he wasn’t around, I fought the sleeplessness; the admitting that I needed help, counseling, medicine; limped along in my job and fought panic attacks; I binged ate and forgot to eat. Time and time again I kept coming over to his house, our kids blending seamlessly and he offered home cooked meals, wine, hot tub, comfort.

He offered home.

He changed his work schedule (a rare opportunity in the military) to help me with school schedules, painted bedrooms and negotiated with all the kids involved to make space personalized for everyone.

I don’t know if we’re suited: he was very vanilla but is now open minded enough to accept my want of polyamory, finds himself liking and even craving the kinkier intimate moments and the social communities; for myself, I wanted the freedom that older kids came with and exploring my outgoing kink lifestyle yet now find that home makes me content most days. It may be a fleeting acceptance on both of our parts but we are willing to see where it goes.

It’s a scary step.

I still fight the feeling that I need to stand on my own, that I need to find myself amid all this chaotic life changing loss, that I am relying on another so heavily.

I have always been the reliable one, the one that my family and even my ex husband relied on, the stead fast one, always known who I was, what I wanted, and how to get there.

I’ve no clue anymore. My heart is shattered in so many pieces I am shocked that anyone wants to hold the slivers and be in my broken company.

Maybe, even if I’m doing this wrong or for the wrong reasons, it’s what is right for right now.

And maybe it’s time I set aside my worry and allow Mr. Texas to soothe my vulnerability with love (and yes, even opening myself up to another potential loss).
Wicked Wednesday

Dec 282016

I had every intention of sharing one of my favorite bloggers every month. My every intention has vanished this year with far too many transitions that crashed upon me. So I figured I’d share the six that I did share before I seriously cut back on showcasing others. 

A Dissolute Life Means

She writes honestly, and often raw. She exposes her more vulnerable self and is often unapologetic about who she is and what she needs. She often writes about seeing multiple men, one of my favorites is when she poetically uses a carousel analogy. I love how beautifully she writes, how being with these men doesn’t diminish her want of something more permanent but she is accepting of the fun as it comes along. I also share how she is hopeful and jaded in imagining a future with every lover she encounters. Another of her posts that I love is how she leads with her sexuality and that it is okay for her to do so, something that took me a long time to recognize in myself. Even when she writes about Casual Sex Rules, she beautifully weaves a story. A fantastic writer.

Molly’s Daily Kiss

She writes most often about a D/s life, the sex blogging community, and observations about sexuality and outlooks. She makes me think often, one such was about tools you need to be a Dom, with the things listed were not I first thought of – they’re far more important. But it is often her writing erotica or fantasies that get me so much, for example a scene based on location; wherein her husband also writes with his own musings. The entire thing turned me on so much, as well as this scene describing a slow build up of anticipation; it is moments like this which fuel my desire far more than touching. She is also the most influential sex blogger that I can think of.

Rebel’s Notes

Another seriously influential sex blogger, she hosts memes like Wicked Wednesday, Sexy Searching, The Menopause Diaries, and the Oral Sex Project. She is my number one supporter and commenter – I don’t know if I would continue to pursue different ways of writing if it wasn’t for her. She is bold with her photos, brave in her Scavenger Hunt photos. She writes of her D/s journey and is honest in her own faults. She has a relationship that I am envious of. Her erotic fiction is pretty hot as well.

Malin James

She writes from a deeply intimate and introspective manner, between the sexual and the psyche, though her stories more often seem to be fiction. She often writes with a dark seductive tone and I love it, like Lonely Things. But when she does write personally, it inspires me, like the notes to her younger self and I appreciated how lovingly reflective it is. It inspired me to think about it and make it a goal of mine to write similarly. Something that echoed painfully and eloquently with me was: This is What I Mean when I Say I Love You. She also discusses writing with the The Semantics of Sex, specifically the words “making love” and “fuck”.

Tamsin Flowers

Tamsin Flowers participated in the #AtoZChallenge and did it brilliantly, but her favorite posts with me include the sense of hearing. She writes a post based on a song, Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies. She writes a take on The Little Mermaid, and not do I love fairy tales, it is an amazingly sexy erotica for a woman who is speechless. She also wrote about sounds and silence eloquently, which was hot and bittersweet all at the same time.

Easily Aroused

Easily Aroused is so often a writer who gets me going every time, with such beautiful erotica. Even in experiencing a new, and taboo, activity he writes gorgeously. This man seriously (and unknowingly) seduces me across a computer screen with his words, like Elemental, or Striation. Even something that made me sad with the loss and betrayal, still turned me on.


Dec 112016

It’s very hard to reflect and expose my own faults in writing, and I guess I do a pretty good job as Texas read the blog and comments on all the mistakes I made in my marriage. He is concerned, of course, because he sees me taking a hard stance on polyamory and he read about how I pushed that agenda in my marriage.

He thinks I will let go of another relationship in my quest for something that I don’t even time for, nor am even sure it it would be better.

Perhaps he is right, but I also am learning from my past mistakes and I do not wish to pursue a monogamous relationship and hurt another with a commitment I struggle to keep.

It’s very hard to reflect and expose my own faults in writing, especially revealing the decisions that I make that are often looked down upon, yet I do because I am human and I want to share the very human moments of my life. It opens me up to judgment on a very public forum, it allows those that know me intimately to see my flawed past and inner thoughts.

For example, I fully embrace my sluttiness – I find nothing wrong in pursuing physical relationships to those that I have a connection with. Sometimes, however, I use sex for the wrong reasons – to feel a connection to someone where it doesn’t exist, like I did after my marriage ended during Slutfest. During a vulnerable time in my life, I shared with whomever read me the unconventional actions that I pursued. It caused my ex husband to dislike me further and use it against me whenever we spoke, his girlfriend to use it to her advantage (not to mention that she had a public forum for her own commenting on a later post), for my new relationships to judge me.

Of course, I also learned from that, and while I used sex to feel close to someone during another weak moment in my life, it was a friend after the death of my sister, so it was a decision that brought me comfort when I needed it. Sure, I also engaged in very public sex whereas I normally wouldn’t, so there are moments where I still make decisions that are unlike me though I don’t see anything wrong with that either.

And that brings me to here: the main reason why it’s very hard to reflect and expose my own faults in writing, because I reveal my pain and expose my vulnerabilities. I can’t quite define why I feel the urge to write about the darker times alongside the glorious ones. Why did I write up and then share the very painful moments of my divorce, of being so casually cast aside for another, of being pathetic and desperate to hold onto him?

Why, now, do I write about losing my baby sister, the one who began this site with me? Why do I share that hurt so publicly, the decisions and the heartache exposing me even more?

It’s not for views – those plummet the minute life overwhelms me as it has this year and I stop working behind the scenes on things. It’s not for popularity – as these vulnerable moments of sadness don’t get the views, nor do I have the heart to truly promote them. It’s not sexy. And I’m still only sharing the sexual/relationship issues, so I’m not being diverse in who I am here.

I am just a person stumbling through a rough year. I’ve moved across country, said goodbye to all my friends, been discarded as a wife, had two new jobs, been a slut, a grieving sister, and a woman truly struggling to find relationships and connections that work for me throughout it all.

It sucks, but here I am, writing about it all.
Wicked Wednesday

Nov 262016
Sinful Sunday

It’s been one month since my baby sister, A, died. She had always joked that she wanted to be buried in a glorious mausoleum but she knew that she would end up in a shanty shack. Taking her joke, her husband and I painted a birdhouse her favorite colors of hot pink and black, pinstriped it, decorated it with butterflies and pink flowers (her favorite things), and spread her ashes on a mountain side in the dawn’s pink tones. I grieve so terribly and hold onto the sound of her laughter so tightly. Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me during this time.img_3238

Nov 222016

Wicked Wednesday*So the transitions, divorce, dating, moving, new job finally took me down for the first time ever in my life. My lines reveal will be completely different from the past, and what I’ve tried to accomplish this year. And even my accomplishments may be incomplete (though I didn’t get many bragging rights these months either).


Most revealing Post: A summary of my summer: purple hair, skinny dipping, pool sex, Mr. Texas, The Wanderer, new friends, reconciling with my husband (and failing). – This Summer

:Favorite Photo 


Favorite Post: 

“So with my husband and I reconciling, one of the first things on his list was anal play for him. He hadn’t experienced it in months and I think that he was even made to feel that it was viewed negatively in some regard.

He missed it… we were going to try pegging again.

Actually, it was a scene that I was giving him with pegging so he laid down tied in the center of the bed” – Pegging Again 

No one can accuse me of quitting easily. This was a beautiful scene is which finally, after so many years of trying, my husband and I were successful at pegging. I loved this moment.

1IMG_2251Favorite Photo: Every single time I look at this photo, or any of the photos from the suite that The Wanderer and I turned into a playroom for three glorious days, I smile. We truly used almost every space of every room, with the exception of the bar, I believe. There were a lot of firsts, and it was one of the most concentrated times I had had with him up to this point.
Accomplishments: Sinful Sunday’s weekly roundup featuring Rope Social


Most Revealing Post: 

“It was a weak moment, just that: a moment, and one that I am healing from – both physically and emotionally.

I hope these marks do eventually fade; after all, my thighs have been scarred before with sharpened steel when I used to sword fight and after time they faded into nothingness.

But if they stay, they will not remind me of loss, nor sadness, nor a pathetic action. They will remind me that I have loved, that I can heal, and that I am strong. They will remind me that I can move forward. They will serve as evidence that my perspective can change, and that hope is a powerful emotion – and frankly there’s nothing wrong with that.” – Bloody Review 

This was the month of truly letting go of my marriage: our many attempts at reconciling failed, he never truly wanted to be with me again though he did love me and I was finally tired of the back and forth of his decisions, our divorce legally was completed, and I made him a character page because the story of him ended here on this space (though for April’s A-Z Challenge I may write of our reconciliation since I have not). I also began the sometimes painful process of letting go of the resentment, bitterness, anger, towards more of a neutral ground to learn and move away from. In this post, I let go of how I viewed my scars, and in another in October, I shifted through the terrible emotions related to anal sex.

img_2927Favorite Photo: Mr. Texas: by this point I had been dating him off and on for six months. And the majority of the days I was his house. His backyard is absolutely gorgeous (these pictures don’t do it justice). Our thing is to go into the hot tub in the evenings, and when kids aren’t around, I’ve been bent over those stairs quite a bit, not to mention that I was at low part of his fence very visible to anyone walking by on a hiking trail having sex with him.
Accomplishments: Learning from Men, Wicked Wednesday


Most Revealing Post: 

“And I can get incredibly wet.

While this may be viewed as a good thing, the truth of the matter is that it’s simply not. Slippery when wet means that we both lose traction.” – Slippery When Wet

Why I’m a size queen, and why sex with me isn’t wonderful for many (not that anyone has ever said anything but positive – but why would they be mean?). Yep, I’m just going to be honest, at least in my opinion.

iphone 244Most Revealing Photo: This was a Tribute to my sister, and on how I missed her and couldn’t visit her, but that her health was in poor condition. She died the month of October. We began this blog together and she was far more than a sister – she was a great friend of mine. I am still reeling from losing her in my life.
Accomplishments: Congratulations to my friend Atargatis, for Riding the Wave, on Wicked Wednesday!

Nov 152016


1. What shoes would  you like  to fill today?

Today my goal was to be: mommy, girlfriend, boss, and the biggest shoes to fill were to be active. So far I’m doing okay, maybe a bit weak on the girlfriend.

2. What is the next big dollar purchase you are planning to make?

A house, and soon.
3. You have $100,000 to spend on friends. How would you spend it?

Paying off bills so we’re all a bit more relaxed. Or buying property for a commune, because I want everyone close.
4. You have $5,000 to spend on your significant  other. How would  you spend it?

Same as friends, help him pay off some bills. And a cruise.
5. What is your favorite waste of time ?

Blogging, which is why I can do it for so many years with regularity

Bonus: Tell us about the most mischievous thing you did as a kid.

I was always picking on my younger sisters, I think that’s what being the eldest is all about. 


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

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Nov 092016

picsart_1378804467020picsart_1395987291398It’s been two weeks since you died. I have flown across country to lend support to a man you chose to end your days with, the man that is devastated by your absence.

Two days later I viewed your body with him and our father, and I think that’s the most hysterical I’ve been, the closest I said goodbye so far.

It was real,  you were gone.

But you will always exist in our hearts, in our memories. I cling to the sounds of your laughter.

Your writings will continue to be permanently here, next to mine, this crazy idea that two sisters decided to endeavor upon and make it work together. And your pictures, a particular source of joy and pride for you, I will continue to discover and be in awe of.

Oct 112016

Sure, my Wanderer wrote about connecting the dots, but when I think about connecting the dots, I like to do it even more simply (and maybe more spectacularly because I’m an overachiever?).

I suggested that we start to share the differing perspectives because perspectives have always been fascinating to me. So with that concept in mind, here’s a countdown of our moments with a side by side viewpoint:

The bench, the brush, the brute:

“Nearing the end of the scene during an OTK hairbrush spanking she decided to try to play high jumper, shot up and off my lap and onto the bench I was on and to get away tried rolling behind me. Truth be told is i was just about done with making her bottom glow until that little move.  She was nearing what was her typical edge in the pain department and was going to get a lot of pleasure. Pussy shaking cunt clenching breath steal pleasure. and all of the orgasms she craves Of course she didn’t know that ofr how close she was from being to to stand up and go get her Doxy and Lelo.  Instead though earned herself a lot more pain and much longer and harder beating than was originally intended.” His: Spanked to Orgasm

“I handed him the brush and he pulled me over his knee where he sat on a bench at the end of the bed, my hands clenched the end of the mattress. The first few strokes were soft and I moaned more in pleasure at the contact, but they quickly became harder and I balked at the sting. I squirmed enough that my tiptoes hit the floor and I pushed off for all I was worth, instinctively trying to escape the sting.

Mentally I cringed at how wimpy I was at sting. Couldn’t handle even a little bit, I inwardly criticized, and tried to will my body to be still and take it – because I could.” Mine: The Brush

So many spankings: 

His: Take Control                        Mine: Room with a View and Couch Surfing

Our second meeting: 

Him: Making her Dance           Mine: Reverberations

Him: Two Days Later and Be My Lover and The Lousy Sadist

“One minute he was focused on getting her to that edge, the next devouring her pussy with the entirety of his mouth and sucking all of her sex completely into his mouth without changing the motion of his tongue and stimulation.  Eventually settling in on her and a series of slightly varied motions and frictions that made her purr so perfectly urging him not to change, to take her were she now longed to go he inserted two fingers and explored her depths as he focused in on getting her to the edge again.  Slow, steady and firmly applying pressure with each pass his hand worked in concert with his mouth until she began to tense.  her legs drew wider as if to say “There!  Stay there and don’t let up” which this time he didn’t as she tenses her pussy around his hand, drove her clit into his tongue and for a moment was as hard and as still as a stone before a moaning exhalation and a gasp. Her body shook.” Him: A Good Licking

“Ever the amazing man of sensations, I was on the bed and being gifted with his own mouth, his finger delving and exploring the wet mess he created.

I know I begged, arched, welcomed, clenched. I don’t know if I did my confusing “please” which could mean please don’t stop, or please stop and give me a break, depending on what side of the pleasure peak I am on.” Mine: Developing

The first time: 

Him:  Heavy Petting  and A First OTK Spanking and Wasted Space

“Do you want to do some Rope? Are you ready?” she asked.

Boy was I ready but simply smiled and said yes. You know me mister cool sitting across the room. Legs stretched out, arms over my head watching her. Which is not at all an unpleasant thing to do. Yet I remained comfortable and in my own way both engaged and distant. In part because I tend to be very self-aware of my physical size compared to others.”  Him: My Rope Life Rebooted

 “When we went back to the hotel room, he sat in a chair and I laid on the bed. We just talked, he seemed in no hurry, and it’s bad manner to show how impatient I am to someone I don’t know well. Time was getting shorter until I had to leave, however, so I bounced on the bed and asked if he wanted to do rope.” Mine: The Wanderer


Okay, not a shared perspective, but we had so many moments that I didn’t write them all and neither did he:

Tied, spread, on the floor: Him: Teasing, Permission to Orgasm

I loved reading about a blowjob I gave: 

His: The 20-Minute Orgasm

Wicked Wednesday