Posts Tagged ‘Sexuality’

My day started with several self given orgasms. It began with a delicious creamy one, ended with an exquisite squirty one, and contained many more equally enjoyable ones in between.

All but one of the many were vaginal orgasms today. This isn’t rare, as I do orgasm from both clitoral and vaginal stimulation, but it is a rare occurrence when I masturbate. I do enjoy playing with insertables but it’s my clit that usually gets me off when I masturbate, occasionally my nipples, but usually my clit. The insertables are more about giving me a full feeling while I toy with my clit because an empty cunt doesn’t like to cum, at least mine doesn’t.

I awoke, already aroused and wet. My nipples were taut and sensitive. I could feel ever fiber of the light bed sheet as it grazed my nipples when I moved. It did little to ease my desire. Why fight it? I pulled the sheet aside and pinched my nipple, sending currents of electric passion to my cunt. It’s wetness grew with every pinch and twist and pull. I started to move my hand down between my legs, to feel the wetness that had grown, but I stopped. I wanted more than my own hand.

I didn’t just want to get off this morning, I wanted to fuck. I wanted to feel a big, hard cock inside me. I wanted to ride it, to feel it deep inside of me, to feel the swollen head as it slid all the way out before pushing deep inside again. I wanted to feel a real cock pounding into me, being rough and forceful and mixing that pleasure with the aching pain of having the cock hitting those places deep up inside of me.

That wasn’t to be though. No man, no real cock today. Just me, and my toys.

I pulled the big blue beast out of it’s home in my bedside table and rubbed it between my legs for a moment. I felt my wetness coating it as I moved it back and forth. Even my clit throbbed at it’s hardness. I knew laying there and pushing it in wasn’t going to be enough. It just wouldn’t do. I got up, and putting the big blue beast between my legs, I slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt the head penetrate my soft opening as I moved and the shaft slowly disappeared inside of me. I pushed down on it until I felt the tip deep up inside of me then I raised my hips, my cunt sliding up the shaft until the tip came out but still pressed against my opening. I then bore down, feeling it push against my swelling pussy and fill me up before raising my hips again. Many more times, up and down, fucking the big blue beast before the wave crashed and the first white, creamy orgasm escaped me.

I was still hot and horny for more. Super horny. Hornier than I recall being in a very long time. I don’t know if it was hormones or what, but if I could learn to harvest that super horny state of being I’d be the richest woman in the world. I began riding the big blue beast again. This time I pinched and tugged at my nipples. Moments later another orgasm. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I kept riding it until more orgasms spilled out of me, one after another after another. There was a continuous supply of orgasms that were eager for release and I wasn’t about to stop them.

Many orgasms later I lay on my bed. My mouth dry, my skin glistening with sweat, my nipples hard and aching, and my cunt still shuddering and twitching from it’s multiple orgasms. My cunt still wanted more though. It still wanted the biggest release. Even as the orgasms were flowing there was still one that was continuing to build inside of me. I could not ignore my clit any longer.

I pulled another toy from the drawer of my bedside table. This one was meant to stay in as I played with my clit. I did not have it in me to concentrate on holding the big blue beast in with one hand while rubbing one out with the other and denying my desire to grab and pull at the pillow or mattress as I came one more time. Two hands just would not suffice in such a situation.

I spread my lips and inserted the new toy. There was no resistance. My hot and plentiful juices that had been flowing made insertion easy. With my lips still spread and the toy securely inserted I moved my right hand to my clit. It was swollen and tender. I dragged some of my slick juices up to my clit and began slowly rubbing it in a circular fashion. My touch was light but the familiar sensation that I was about to explode came quickly. As it did my touch became firmer and faster, my hips moved and began to fuck the air, and my quick breaths came with moans begging for release. As I begged with my body and my moans it came. The giant tidal wave that had been building came crashing down all around me and I felt as though it were washing me out to sea as the contractions pushed more than the toy out of me. The tidal wave brought a massive squirting orgasm that soaked me, the bed, and parts of the floor. It left my body a quivering mess incapable of any comprehendible thought or word.






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Have you ever had an experience you were too naïve to understand or appreciate? So erotic, but you were too insecure to just let it be and embrace it? I relive the following experience in my head over and over again. It’s been 25 years, yet when I close my eyes I am transported back to that little bedroom with that amazing young man I was completely mad about yet unable to love the way he wanted and deserved. I’ve had this written for a while but couldn’t quite get the style of it the way I wanted. I didn’t want a poem or a long story so I was left with breaking the rules.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Standing in the middle of a dark room,

nearly pitch black

and I can’t see a thing.

But I can feel him,

his breath against my neck,

his hands gently caressing me.

I tingle all over.

My breath grows shallow.

No words.

He stands in front of me.

Close enough for me to reach out and touch,

but I don’t dare.

The buttons on my blouse

slowly, ever so slowly,

come undone.

His hand glides across my shoulder

pushing my blouse off.

Next, the other shoulder

then he pulls the sleeves

one at a time

and lets it fall to the floor.

Gentle kisses on my neck,

my collarbone,

as his hands now move lower.

The pop of another button

precedes the sound of a zipper,

my zipper,

slowly going down.

Achingly slow.

I hear every catch of the zipper as he goes.

Two hands now move across my hips

down the back of my jeans

pushing them down,

past my behind,

down to my knees.

Lift, he says.

One foot,

then the next,

as my jeans join my blouse

on the floor.

His arms are around me now

tugging at the clasp

of my bra.

Easily unhooked

it is swept from my shoulders

and drops to the floor.

The pile of shed clothing grows.

He cups each breast,


and kisses them tenderly.

My nipples ache for more

but I dare not ask.

I am a good girl,

I don’t do such things.

He kneels in front of me

and slips his hands

under the waistband of my panties.

His hands slide down my thighs

bringing the soft fabric with them.

Lift, he says again.

One foot,

then the other,

and I am naked.

He leans in now,

buries his head

between my legs.

I tremble


yet completely turned on.

Soft moans escape

as his tongue makes contact.

Oh my!

Off his knees now,

he kisses me

before taking my hand

and walking me over to the bed.

He pulls the sheets back

and sits me down.

I hear the sounds of his clothes

now being removed

and left in their own

crumpled pile on the floor.



he takes me.




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Starfishing can serve a purpose but there comes a point when you just can’t stay still anymore. At least there should come a point. No such luck.

Laying there, a lifeless body, Lynne just never seems to get into it. What was he doing wrong? Why didn’t she enjoy sex, with him? And Warren was convinced it was himself that was the issue, not her. After all, she had been with nearly the entire football team prior to hooking up with him. She must have been better than this.

He tried everything he could think of. All the techniques from “How To Give Her An Orgasm Every Time”. The girl at the book store said it was the best and that he would have his girl begging for more in no time. Boy was she wrong! He was sure she was still laughing at him for buying the damn thing. Come to think of it, there was quite a bit of dust on it. No matter, he was beginning to think nothing would help anyway.

A few weeks later they attended a party, a little housewarming party for Lynne’s friends Pam and Jeff. They seemed like an odd pairing to him. She had been a cheerleader in high school, now in her second year of Holistic Studies at the local community college. He had been president of the chess club, editor of the school paper, and was now working towards his law degree. Very different, but they did seem to get along rather well. Then again he and Lynne also seemed to get along quite well, and they did, everywhere except in the bedroom.

The drinks were flowing and everyone was having a great time. The conversation turned towards sex, as it often does, and the topic of the famed 69 position came up. He was for it, of course. Any position that allowed him pleasure was good, if he could be pleasured while pleasuring his girl, even better. The guys all agreed. Pam thought differently.

“How can I relax and enjoy Jeff’s mouth teasing me while I’m supposed to be concentrating on sucking his cock? It’s like starfishing, it can’t be done. I either stop what I’m doing all together or start doing it with such force he tells me to stop and slow down, to watch my teeth. I go at him hard because I’m trying to force my own orgasm from it. It doesn’t work well.” Pam stopped and giggled nervously as she realized the intimacies she had just shared with her friends.

Then something unexpected happened when Lynne chimed in with her opinion.

“I feel the same way when I am with a man doing that position. It doesn’t do it for me at all. Now, make the man a woman and I am all for it!”

Warren was shocked, as were the rest of the partygoers. Everyone it seemed, except for Clarissa. A light blush crept across her face and she was unable to look up at Lynne. Lynne was certainly able look at her though, and with a saucy little grin she did.

Suddenly it all became so clear.

Wicked Wednesday


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I was going to post a follow-up piece to Catching The Signal, but that will have to wait another week.

You do not need to watch this video to understand what I am going to write. You don’t need to watch it to know that people are gullible and blindly follow others without questioning reasons or motivation. ‘You say it’s a fight we should be having? Ok, I’ll fight this injustice with you.’ It’s pure propaganda and you may be more pissed off with the people who made it than the ones they are trying to get you mad at. I am posting it, you can decide whether you watch it or not.

Think a Little Porn Is Harmless? This Is Guaranteed to Change Your Mind. Warning: You Can’t Unwatch This
At the root of the porn industry and the exploitation of women is a desire driven by men. What if instead of being part of the problem, men became part of the solution? *Caution: This video contains graphic elements.


I saw this video on Facebook the other day. A friend had posted it so I thought I would watch and see what it was about. My first clue should have been that it is from the FaithIt website, but then I’ve seen a lot of cute little things on there so I thought I’d see what it was all about. The more I watched the madder I got. I’m paraphrasing here, but what they say is that basically men need to learn to control their urges and become men of God because their desire to watch porn leads to the complete exploitation of women and ultimately sex trafficking.

There are more than a few reasons I have issue with this video.

First off, it isn’t only men who have sexual urges and desires. It isn’t only men who watch porn. I would think in this day and age there are more women watching porn than ever before. It’s so easy to access online, to order online, or even to purchase at your local adult store. Women are more confident in their own sexuality and asking for what they want rather than sitting back and feeling ashamed for it.

Just because someone likes to watch porn or have kinky sex does not mean that they will end up purchasing prostitutes and contributing to sex trafficking. One is not synonymous with the other, and one does not ultimately lead to the other. Watching porn does not always translate into other things, into more dangerous or degrading or illegal activities. I know there are people with no self control, but there are as many who can control themselves and have no desire to do more than watch a little porn occasionally. Not everyone eats the whole bag of potato chips, and not everyone watches porn 24/7 or feels the need to go beyond the porn.

I understand that yes, there are some women who get into the porn business because they are forced to or because they are down from other issues and find it an easy way to score some cash. There are more who do it of their own free will, simply because they want to. I would do it in a heartbeat if I had the body for it. Well, the body for hot sexy porn not chubby chaser porn. I don’t know how I’d do with the faking orgasm part though. I’ve never been good at faking anything.

Those porn producers of old, the ones who force the drug ridden or otherwise needy women to have sex on film, are not the types of porn producers of today. They do still exist throughout the world, and you can always find whatever it is you are looking for, but the business as a whole has cleaned up and become much more mainstream and accessible. These days there are many more reputable producers and at home amateurs. One look through FetLife and you’ll see a plethora of women freely and openly enjoying themselves making their own videos. I don’t believe they can act well enough to make us believe they are enjoying it, I believe they really are enjoying it.

Sex trafficking is about money and greed and control. It has much more to do with power than it does sex. I know someone who was once part of that world who says herself that it isn’t about sex. She says she was degraded and belittled and made to feel completely worthless, told she was nothing and would get nowhere in life. It was about making them, her and the other women, lose their confidence and sense of self worth and general ambition in life so that they became nothing more than simple objects. Without feeling and desire and a sense of self worth they could easily be controlled and used to make money. A simple object to make its owner money.

Ok, so that may be part of the point of the video. For the record, I am against sex trafficking and using or degrading women who do not wish to be used or degraded. The point is though, that one thing does not lead to the other.

Oh, and as for God, you don’t need to believe in God to help people. You also aren’t some forsaken degenerate if you don’t believe. I could go on about my thoughts on religion and faith, but I will leave that for another day, or not. What I will say that it isn’t God you need to find to be happy and whole and not do things that lead you down the road to supporting sex trafficking. What you need to do is find yourself.

Click the link below to see what other stories were born of this weeks Wicked Wednesday challenge.

Wicked Wednesday

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I like sex.
That does not mean I am easy.
I am kinky.
That does not make me a deviant.
I like to play.
That does not mean I will play with anyone who asks.
I like to submit.
That does not mean I require a Master.
It also does not mean I am weak.

I enjoy anal sex.
That does not mean I like getting fucked up the ass.
I love cock.
That does not mean I can’t also enjoy pussy.
I like to show off my body.
That does not mean I am not shy.
I like to watch.
That does not mean I won’t join in.
It also does not mean I will.

I am single.
That does not mean I am desperate.
I enjoy flirting.
That does not mean I am any good at it.
I am picky.
That does not mean I don’t settle.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
That does not mean I keep it unprotected.
It also does not mean I will give it to just anyone.

I won’t call you on every little slip.
That does not mean I do not notice.
I do not hold grudges.
That does not mean I am a doormat.
I like pain.
That does not mean I enjoy being hurt.
I give second chances.
But not to everyone.
If you are lucky I may even give a third.

Click below to see how others are being wicked this Wednesday.

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Why do you care who I kiss or how I do it?
Why so concerned what I do in my bedroom?
Why is it wrong to bring it outside my bedroom?
Why does it matter my sexual orientation or how I choose to express it?
Why is your way right and my way wrong?
It’s sex.
There are many different ways of doing it.
Have you not heard of the Kama Sutra?
Have you never experimented in your own sex life?
We each have different lines, different likes and dislikes.
What is it that so disgusts you?
Is it that I talk about it?
Is it that I am unashamed?
They exhilarate me.
I freely submit to my Sir.
He does as he sees fit and I love him for it.
Why is this so completely foreign to you?
Why do you care?
Why do I?
Maybe I am a deviant.
Maybe I am completely normal.
Maybe I am somewhere between the two.
Why does it matter?

Click below to see how others are being wicked this Wednesday.

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I’m not plain
though you may think me so
with a passion
and our desire
no need for all that kink
a warm embrace
a gentle kiss
that’s all I need
to keep me here
Maybe one day he’ll get me there.

sweet and pure
missionary is what I know
things must stay
always the same
because I have to play it safe
a little slap
a pull of hair
it’s never happened
don’t you dare
But, think you could explore down there?

why are we
so very nondescript
is there more
out there to be
something more inside of me
I wonder things
I think there must
be more to this than
what we share
Now, let’s begin to move us there.

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