Jan 282018
 

I came into the dark bedroom to get ready for bed and was shocked when the door slammed… and then I was slammed into the armoire. I wasn’t alarmed, even though I was taken surprised, as I knew it was my lover’s body pressing hard against the back of mine. Hands came around and gripped my breasts, my own startled breathing sounded nothing like his breath so intimately and yet somehow threatening in my ear – or perhaps that was my own thundering heartbeat not quite able to make sense of the whirling thoughts still creating a flight or fight sensation?

Within this cyclonic confusion, with nipples being pinched through clothing and arms like vices keeping our bodies together, he propelled me to the end of the bed. He didn’t stop there, as the purposefully hands now forcefully went to my upper back and shoved me to bend over. Pants were yanked down, my ankles kicked open, fingers rammed into my wet depths to where the remaining fingers and palm felt like a fist against my lips, as my shirt was pulled up and over, my bra unfastened after a hiccup with a front clasp that slows him down slightly (he’s amazing at a back closure for some reason). His animated hands were everywhere, demanding, they created a tailspin of movement that created an unsettled feeling – perfect for a headspace that left no discerning but his wants. I was far more enthralled by his rough fingers, empty thoughts drifted like feathers where all my nerve endings settled between my legs and collected in his palm.

Hair pulled back once I was undressed, manipulated the rest of my body to where I was twisted around and forced onto sinking and grateful knees. I breathed in his scent through the gym shorts inches in front of my face and smelled his intoxicating desire. My hands now had their own turn to pull down clothing, though far less vigorously, and with his hair guidance system and my eager mouth wide open, the head of his penis was devoured until he hit the back of my throat, then withdrew only to be sucked back in. He used my mouth as if it was his personal toy and the uncaring nature of being used for his delectation increased my own wantonness. As the head hit the back of my mouth and made me salivate and coat his shaft, the feeling was echoed throughout my core and my own thighs were drenched.

It isn’t often he uses me in this way and it was heady that is his own lust and will were demanded in such a way. It was deeply visceral.

Ravenous for his taste, the feeling of the ridges dancing along my tongue, he denied me that greed after a few minutes. Pulled up by hair and again pushed onto the bed, this time with persuasive hands gripping pliable thighs he capapulted me towards the center of the bed. I crumbled among the sheets, rolled over to see the assault of his following body. He entered me effortlessly, the initial resistance of my entrance barely a obstacle as he planted the full length of himself in my body and claimed me his. Yet, there were more parts to claim apparently as fingers advanced in my mouth and embodied his cock – in and out with the same dizzying pace, tiny taste buds and nerve endings felt the sliding imprint of knuckles and ridges and veins. Even his mouth dipped at some points and teeth caught and tugged a nipple to full attention.

He withdrew, but not to stop the onslaught, more strategically to roll me over and continue his onslaught of my senses.

Did I scream? I’m unsure, yet I was aware of the vibration in his hand as it was placed over my mouth. My breath, hot, damp, precious in his grasp, my sounds muffled and yet clamoring in vibrant colors in my brain to distraction. His fingers again became pervasive, hooked in my mouth; I was so thoroughly caught in relentless orgasms. He moved his hands to grip my hips, held me up as he thrusted down. His own grunts and groans signaled a release to the maddening pace that my brain could not keep up with and my body didn’t want to.

As he stilled, I opened my eyes and still saw the pitch black of the room, a comforting cocoon of calmness amid the rampant kaleidoscope of our passion.

He rolled onto his back and pulled me into the crook of his arm, his fingers softly brushing my back. When our breathing calmed deep and regular, our heartbeats slowed lower than frenzied, as endorphins and adrenaline stopped flooding our senses, he tucked me in between the sheets, pushed a sip of water between my lips, and kissed me to sleep.

Wicked Wednesday

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Jan 212018
 

I am immensely curious: what’s in your player pack?

When I first began the negotiations between Mimir and myself (though realistically the real negotiations happened between Mimir and my ex-husband on what makes me tick and the scenes I like), Mimir requested a few items be kept at his house, that he would put in a bag for just me (I wasn’t his only partner). When we broke it off because I was moving across country, he return my pack of items – including the bag I originally dropped off the items in.

I consider this a player pack, and for some reason I woke up this morning and thought of what items were in that bag (most of the bag is still intact). We would use far more items than what was in this pack, but it was a collection of things that were just between us (not to mention that he had a playlist as well tailored towards our scenes).

In our player pack was:

  • Rope for fluid bonding: he was the first one that made me conscious of that as my ex-husband and I never thought of it, he also suggested I provided it since I’m super picky about my rope and he knew it being my friend first;
  • Blindfold: he bought this and I began to appreciate how a blindfold fit my face just right – it’s cute pink satin with a blank outline of a wink and is still my go-to blindfold;
  • A glass dildo;
  • Wartenberg wheel: such an evil little thing;
  • A soft dildo attachment for the Hitachi wand;
  • Clothespins – though he had stuck them in there I don’t believe that we had used them yet – it may have been for future scene he was planning.

It made me curious about if I had to create a player pack currently – just a few go-to items, what would my current player packs look like (which of course would not include everything we play with, just what is most used)?

Mr. Texas does not have a bag since we live together, but if he had a player pack it would include:

  • a blindfold (the same one Mimir gave me as it’s my favorite);
  • a cane that is just between the two of us;
  • a crop I use on him more than the other way around (that The Wanderer bought me);
  • a vibrator is beginning to factor more in which I’m thrilled about.
  • Rope that I’m fluid bonded to, though I don’t think rope factors very much into our play,
  • the same with a particular knife that we agreed is just between us.
  • A new addition is a curry comb – such an interesting combination of sensations and uses I’m learning.
  • I’d like if an anal plug would become a bit more frequent as well.

The Wanderer is mostly out of my everywhere rope bag as we both meet while traveling:

  • so a blindfold – I have several to choose from – my favorite is purple leather, though I have a longer scarf length of silk that I purchase to also use with some rope suspensions;
  • my rope that I fluid bonded to since orgasm play tends to be a big part of our dynamic;
  • nipple clamps;
  • and then out of my usual rope bag is one of his evil belts and my vibrator.

Apparently, a blindfold is an absolute must for me – both as a top and as a bottom; not being able to see is so hot on both sides of the coin, the surprise of what is to come. I believe it will always be a go-to in any bag/dynamic for me.

Player packs don’t have to be very big, as with my two current partners their hands are the most used toys, but extra things that are used regularly – what would those be?

And now I’m immensely curious: what are in other people’s player packs?

If you feel comfortable enough – would you share with me?

Wicked Wednesday

Jan 152018
 

On Twitter, someone suggested looking at comments as a Found Poem. While I certainly didn’t use it the same context, I decided to take tidbits of phrases out of my comments and turn them into Haikus. Here you go, the most recent 21 comments (and because I didn’t write them, who gets the credit):

Aftercare – Cousin Pons

I think I need to

Towel off after intense

And full encounter.

 

Anal – May Moore and Marie Rebelle

Think anal can be

He tucked you in at the end,

All complicated!

 

Heads – Marie Rebelle, Elliott Henry, and Cara Thereon

Heads are not needed:

Fair to be ambivalent,

Be a fantasy!

 

Conceptualized – Mrs. Fever and Accidental Masturbator

Awesome disturbing

And simultaneously

Conceptualized.

 

Art – May Moore and Aurora Glory

I feel a little

Exhausted, I’m terrible

At art, so to speak.

 

Lingerie – Mixxxer, Tits and Test Tubes, and Aurora Glory

Lingerie is fine,

Different and thus intriguing,

Has me interested.

 

Photo – Cara Thereon and May Moore

Fuck that was hooot, Photo,

Inspired in my humble

Opinion, intense.

 

Slow Trust – Sweeten Dirty

I’m slowly working

Up to it with a partner

I trust, my first.

 

Creepy Rope – Jo, Little Switch Bitch, Elliott Henry

It is creepy rope,

More vulnerability,

Did not work for me.

 

New Something – Tits and Test Tubes, Indigo Bird, and Elliott Henry

Bound woman trying

faceless men, something to do,

Your new creation.

 

Don’t Know – Aurora Glory

You really don’t know

a thing, I’m so pleased, at the

idea behind it.

 

I Adore – Aurora Glory and Marie Rebelle

I can see why I

Adore the addition of

bondage fantasy.

 

Other Things – Bee and Cara Thereon

Other things are far

More pleasurable, surreal;

Creepy: a good thing?

Wicked Wednesday

Jan 102018
 

Wicked WednesdayTackling the Wicked Wednesday questions: I am not still talking to my ex. Every so often we still have to text each other for managing a few things still, but that’s far and few in between. I am not having sex with him. I can’t even be friends with him – which is an oddity for me, but the emotions for him were far too strong on my end and became far too toxic once we began to separate between the two of us. He was a big part of a lot of changes that I am still being affected by, so he is often on my mind. I am absolutely positive I don’t want to see him in any shape or fashion. I’ve also learned that with time and distance that I would never want to get back with him.

That being said: he wasn’t a bad guy (excusing the brief periods of reconciliation where he was a total jerk). Our marriage was wonderful in so many ways. I don’t wish him ill; I just don’t want him back.

Waaay back when I was married, I would ask my ex-husband the TMI questions on long road trips; I used to record his answers. So since I have them actually on the blog, and he’s already given permission to post this, here they are: 

You are interviewing someone to be your lover, what are the 3 most important questions you will ask?

Will I get sex when I want it?

What three things do you expect from a relationship with a lover/spouse?

Love, love, and love.

What three things do you expect from a relationship with your child?

To love me, to love them, and to be a pain in the ass

How do you mend a broken heart?

With love, love solves all things

What is your favorite therapy (remedial treatment of mental or bodily disorder)?

Destroying stuff is pretty effective

Who in your life has an annoying habit? How do you deal with this?

My wife is ditsy and I love her anyways

In five words, describe yourself. You cannot use the following words: funny, fun, nice, kind, responsible.

Calm, awesome, caring (I forgot what he said for the other two, so I’ll insert: unmotivated and creative)

If in a long time, romantic relationship do you still flirt? How do you flirt with your significant other?

Yes, we still flirt all the time. And I don’t know how I flirt with her because I’m a crappy husband that way.

Who has been the biggest influence in your life?

My wife, she has certainly influenced my life the most.

What kinds of things really make you laugh?

Stupid humor and all the sick shit that I probably shouldn’t laugh at.

What’s your favorite place in the entire world?

Wherever I’m at. I’m pretty content wherever I am.

Who is your best friend? What do you like about him/her?

My wife; she’s pretty awesome.

What’s your biggest goal in life right now?

To not be a failure. (I complained how vague this was, and how he needs attainable goals. He said it boxes him in, and then once he achieves them he has to think of new ones and he’s too lazy for that.)

What was your family like growing up?

Standard, okay, military family

Some things get better with age, have you? What specifically has gotten better?

Yes, I’m more awesome. I don’t know why.

Are you above average or below average?

Above average.

What was the last romantic act you did for someone? Did they appreciate it?

I don’t know because I’m a shitty husband.

Think back to your very last argument, whose fault was it?

Probably mine. I’m pretty certain it was my fault.

What day of the week do you have sex most often?

I don’t know. I have sex every day of the week.

Do you use kissing as an important way to test out a new mate?

I don’t know, I don’t have the experience in this. But yes, kissing is very important.

7. What do you expect from marriage?
a. safety and solidarity and security
b. a journey towards self-fulfillment and self-actualization with a partner that ‘gets’ you

I have both in my marriage.

8. Acts of love & kindness. Which would mean more to you:
a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)
b. Giving or receiving a box of chocolates or flowers

a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)

What are some challenges related to your sex life?

My wife wants it a lot more than I do.

Is quality or quantity most important?

My wife tells me both are equally important.

How much sex is enough?

Once a week. But it’s in my contract for two times per day.

 

 Posted by at 2:13 pm
Dec 312017
 

I haven’t done much this year, especially since April when depression finally crippled my creativity (and it did before then, I just limped along on drafts until April). Still, here’s my top 5 with stats from this year.

Search Terms of the Year and where I think it takes people:

Cammies on the Floor 

Make Her Famous

My Best Orgasm

Sybian

Trying Anal

 

Top Posts:

Home Page – does this count?

Feeling Forced

Cut and Ripped

Sybian

Sex Show

 

Top Categories of what I’ve used: 

Pictures

Writing Prompt

Bondage

Sinful Sunday

Complication

 

Referrers:

Search Engines

Twitter

Reddit

Sinful Sunday

Masturbation Monday

 

I refer most to:

Malflic

Twitter

Sinful Sunday

Masturbation Monday

Molly’s Daily Kiss

 

Commenters – thank you!!!:

Marie Rebelle

Bee

Silverdom

LittleSwitchBitch

Elliott Henry

 

Countries that view:

United States

United Kingdom

Australia

Canada

Germany

 

My views have been cut in third this year due to lack of writing. 

Wicked WednesdayThe prompt for this week is gadgets, and stats for the blog have always been the most fascinating for me. Truly, I dislike learning new technology and don’t own many gadgets. Click the rainbow to find out what gets people going with gadgets.

Oct 302017
 

“Do you like her sucking your cock?” his wife asked in the backseat as he drove us to my house. Somehow I always knew that she would be that cool with another woman. Another bonus: I was using my truck the way I intended it – center console moved up so it’s a bench seat and I could have my mouth comfortably on a man as he drives. She was asking him how it felt and he described it as I gave him road head, before we reached our destination and all headed to my big bed together.

****************

“I taste you on your fingers. Were you touching yourself?” he whispered as he separated my thighs with his hips and drew my fingers deeply into his mouth. I blushed crimson into the dark room, though I’m pretty sure he didn’t need to see me to know that. “You taste so good.”

******************

I had no choice but to be spread open and grinding myself on the bed, as the positioning of the rope around my ankles and thighs kept me low to the bed and spread open, and the chest harness wouldn’t allow for me to move any further up, but the grinding might have actually happened once he placed the vibrator in me. Still, the bound position kept me low and bent over.

“This position is perfect for anal,” and my heart thudded with the thought that anal sex was what he had in mind as he applied lube against me. Instead, the plug hurt in a pleasurable way as he slammed it into me.

*****************

“It’s amazing how much you’ll hurt yourself for an orgasm,” he sounded amazed, but by this point Mr. Texas knows how I can get under the right circumstances. He continued to draw the curry comb against my nipples – or rather keep it pressed up against them as I scratched them back and forth painfully riding him. I would feel my nipples sore for a week, but the price was worth the pleasure.

 

****All different scenarios and times. Wicked Wednesday

Sep 172017
 

Wicked Wednesday

photo credit: Gunn Shots (Catching up) Vistas of my youth via photopin(license)

This is a post that is always a work in progress, as I listen to conversations and agree with so many perspectives. It’s also shifted in myself. Consent is something that is on and off screamed about on Fetlife, and trust is something stressed in the kink communities. When the flurry of writings come out, I try to sort out my own perspective and mixed emotions – especially when it came to my own experience of my trust being broken.

For a play person, consent is crucial. Safe words, negotiations, boundaries being respected are all important factors of the dynamic. Sure, there is trust, but the trust is that those consent pieces are respected. I also have a love/hate relationship with safe words – for a play partner, I keep them at the forefront of my mind; in a relationship I don’t think to use them unless it’s been negotiated prior – I want to go further down the rabbit hole and explore the strange curiosities of comfortably uncomfortable. Safe words imply that a boundary may be crossed due to a lack of awareness of a limit (which may be necessary in both play partners and relationships, but less so in a relationship as the person knows limits).

For a relationship, trust is crucial – consent less so. There is a level of trust that must exist in order for me to fully let go; I entrust things to someone else – including my well-being; I leave it up to that person in that moment. Trust is based on the unknown as well as the known – my partner knows me well enough for this relationship; I trust my partner to choose things specifically for me without my knowledge and based on what is best for me.

To think of it another way: when someone asked what you want at a restaurant and you say, “I’ll leave it up to you,” or “surprise me,” they will not order things that they know you despise. If you go on a date with someone, you strive to the next date – not push your own agenda without care for the other person. So too do I expect my partner to take the time to know me deeply, intimately, to know what I will not do, to push gently for that next step together and go at a pace that is conducive for us both.

I too take that same pace with them – I am not a passive participant.

This type of trust is built over time and carefully cultivated – hence the relationship aspect for me, and it is constantly evolving. It’s a delicate dance of patience and nurturing. And serious communication. It allows me to enter into gray areas, push past boundaries, experiment in a safe place.

Consent is black or white, broken or upheld to the highest degree. It hints at a lack of trust. Negotiation is fantastic, and often necessary in the beginning of two people who do not know each other, but there is something far sexier in the wonder of what’s next in a scene unfolding to me.

At a munch, someone asked the group, “how do you know if someone wants this,” and they replied communication, asking. These are simplistic ways, and truly a great thing, but mid scene I do not want to stop, nor am I going to the very limits of what is negotiated or something that they like. If someone gives a list of kinks, I’m not going to go down every one, I’m going to stroke a few carefully and watch for reactions.

Some examples: with The Wanderer:

“I test the waters, unsure of what he’ll allow…he’s a new partner and I want to please him. I am lucky in that I know a bit about him … but I don’t know what level he exerts dominance, what level of passivity or submission he expects from me.

So my fingertips lightly caress, then become bolder with hands, and then move from fabric to removing fabric, then from hands to mouth.

I never once push, ask, nor even communicate through body language that he should fuck me. I respect his boundary, as I am always very respectful and conscientious of any boundary given,” – Developing 

Okay, now I play with the boundary in a teasing way for fun, though I would never push for sex – it is the boundary. I’ll still mimic the act of sex, grind myself down on his lap, bend over before he spanks me and bump my bottom against his pelvis – but it is clearly a tease and not trying to get away with something I shouldn’t – I only do things of his nature when he is fully clothed, wearing his chastity belt of pants as it were. Even to be comfortable enough to know that my teasing would be acceptable took patience and tiny trials, starts and stops to see how far our trust in each extended.

With Mr. Texas, we started exploring pain elements with safewords, now it is something that is not needed, nor rarely used unless discussed, so it is something I would not think to use unless discussed:

“I also, especially when I top him, realize that I am dealing with a man not used to coloring at all, so I listen to his body language,  his words, his noises, and his actions and proceed cautiously, stopping far before he colors. If I force him to color, I warn him ahead of time that is my intent and do only one action (like bite down) until he remembers to use it.

Again, though, I don’t believe that I should only stop when he uses his safe word. If I am playing to the edge it is with someone I trust and who trusts me, someone that I have played with many times before, someone that will know my tells and listen to my body language the same way that I do theirs.” – Safeword Complication

Mr. Texas and I have extensive trust in each other, and we have certainly baby stepped our way into kink since he was inexperienced and I was untrusting (when he met me). It is this openness of being a strong foundation of exploration that allowed me to relax enough to try anal sex again and impact play has gone far more than any other in more variety of ways.

Before the fallout of my ex husband, he gave me the safe space to explore my sexuality and my world to kink (it was a mutual new experience for us both) without judgment. He pushed my boundaries far past what I thought I would be comfortable with, but it was gently, always (until the end) with the intent that the exploration continue and was comfortable with both of us.

I believe in both consent and trust – but my relationships are less about consent because I do trust them, boundaries are more gray areas, safewords not necessary as we read and know each other (though still there, if need be- a safeword would not be ignored). I cannot consent to a journey unknown.

Sep 042017
 

Mr. Texas hit me so hard I cried. I don’t know if I’ve cried before from pain, though to be fair I more teared up than sobbed.

What was even more striking is that I wore a soft supple leather blindfold at the time and the duration of time I wore it I smelled wet leather.

Previously, he was exhausted and told he wasn’t in the mood to beat me – not that I requested it but we talked about it throughout the day, the way someone may talk about what was for dessert after dinner.

When he walked me to bed, I thought it was simply to tuck me in, but he instructed I hand him my blindfold – an easy enough task considering I had just taken it off him mere hours earlier and the reason he cited for being exhausted. My view was obstructed with leather fabric; there is something about being visually cut off from the world, from him, that allows me to focus more intensively on myself, on my other senses, hear my heartbeat and breath drawn in and out, hear his footsteps approaching or his fingers picking up or placing down an implement.

Hands gripped my upper arms and steered me to the end of the bed, positioned me halfway leaning over the footboard, so that he could flog me. A new one for him and he had two to choose from, preferring the longer one as he felt more in control. He went gently but the leather tips would occasionally sting and I squirmed in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

What I liked most was that he warmed up my skin and kept a rhythmic pace that made my body relaxed and hypnotized my mind on what he was doing. Eventually he guided me into the bathroom, where he bent me over and the flogger striked with a bit more force, though nowhere near painful.

From flogger to crop, where the warm up was extensive and settled my mind and body even more deeply to where he could strike surprisingly hard, so much so that he commented on how much I was taking. But eventually the crop stung too much and too many places on me were unappreciative of that sensation.

Mr. Texas’ hands did the real damage as they almost always do, first caressed my reddened cheeks which felt amazing, softly patted a few times, then pulled back and spanked to where the imprint of every finger and thumb connect to his palm was not only visible – it was felt.

I jumped up and elbowed him in the chest, though not hard as I couldn’t see and he stepped back. If we had made eye contact, I’m sure my gaze would have conveyed my dislike over such extreme stingy pain, though he didn’t need to see – he knew how much I disliked it.

“Mother fucker,” I gritted, tip toeing to relieve some sting on my cheek – it didn’t alleviate any. His hand went to my mid back and he pushed me down to bend over the counter again.

The other cheek received the same treatment of arm pulled back and force release with every area of his stingy hand.

“Yellow,” I cried out and the first cheek was thwacked entirely too hard again; he took my coloring to change cheeks, but the force was far more than I could handle so soon. Tears sprang to my eyes, “yellow,” my voice weaker, almost timid from being a bit watered down, and the second cheek was hit again. He kept a hand on my mid back and the other hand reached down between my thighs so he could finger me to an orgasm, an excellent proposal to distract me from the torment.

Though my cheeks felt on fire despite the fact that I drenched his fingers.

After my orgasm, he stroked my reddened bottom and then punched. After all the sting, I had little tolerance for it and it wasn’t long before I called yellow and he switched it up to fingering me again.

While the tears abated, as I was pressed face down into my arms on the unforgiving bathroom counter, I began to smell the wet leather. It was so strong a smell that it quite possessed all my other senses for a moment and it was all I could focus on. It smelled like sex and ache, or perhaps my desires permeated the leather; it was clean, crisp, masculine, woodsy.

I didn’t need to see him to know that he was there, suffering at his hands because he loved me enough to take me into this small, safe space where my brain could reorient itself onto what was important: my body and senses, our love, being present in the moment.

The story continues here.

*Sometimes the lack of eye contact can help my head space. Click the rainbow to read other stories about eye contact.Wicked Wednesday

Masturbation Monday badge - small *And what other stories overwhelm senses on Masturbation Monday

 

Aug 242017
 

It’s arousing when he uses my mouth for the sake of using it – no reason: he isn’t searching for a kiss, his cock will not replace his fingers. Mr. Texas will occasionally slip a thumb or a finger(s) in my mouth, sometimes it’s just to slide it gently against my tongue, to pry open my mouth, or to hit the back of my throat. Whatever the reason, it instantly flips a switch with me; I find it hot.

And when his fingers are more forceful in my mouth for no reason, it’s all the hotter to me. For a reason I don’t quite understand yet, I love being used, I love his fingers in an intimate place forcing it wider, or fingertips going deeper and almost making me choke…for no reason other than he wants to.*

I get off on that he is using a part of my body in an unusual manner, I get off on the power dynamic that he does what he wants with me how he wants to. If he’s being rougher, if I’m choking or gasping around fingers who do not appreciate the sacrifice like cock does, it just switches me to a more wanton being.

I want his fingers between my legs, being forceful and sliding against the wetness of my desire and not my saliva. I want the tip of his head to hit my throat, for my lips and tongue to explore the hardness of his shaft. I am being denied; he is being denied; he is creating this denial that benefits neither of us and that’s an incredible shift of power for me.

It’s so sexy.

 

*(Sure, he’ll tell you the reason is because he realizes it makes me wild and I obviously like it, and he loves that reaction).

Wicked Wednesday** I didn’t follow the prompt for Wicked Wednesday, but still felt inspired to write. Click on the circle to see what people find sexy about flying.

Aug 222017
 

1. For you, can sex be separated from love?

Absolutely it can, actually it usually is. 
2. Can sex be separated from caring?

I don’t know about this one, but my one night stand experiences would lend credence to this. I didn’t care much for someone I had just met, but likewise I wasn’t uncaring. I wanted a mutually beneficial physical good time. 
3. Men: Does sex seem to be something that you can never get enough of and are constantly seeking or thinking about?

I do not identify as a man, but this seems to apply more directly to me than the other question for women. I used to be more like this, honestly my drive is finally calming down (some times, last night would be a poor example as I kept poor Mr. Texas up all night with my demands). 
4. Women: Is sex secondary to intimacy, physical closeness, and commitment?

Sex seems to come first for me, and the other things mentioned just sort of fall together around our sex life. Although with my friends, physical closeness may come before sex.
5. Who is more discriminating in choosing sexual partners–you or your significant other?

For Mr. Texas: for sure he is more discriminating. We actually had a discussion recently where I bemoaned the fact that he was so particular. 

I am unsure of The Wanderer’s preferences and discriminating factors. For him perhaps it’s more of a matter of time and convenience, though I think he would be somewhat discriminating.

Bonus: Who is more likely to take on additional sexual partners, you or your significant other?

As with the above, I am far more likely to take on additional partners, in comparison to my significant others, at least if I were to look at the past and present as indicators. 

————

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!