June 20, 2014

Blindfolded and Vulnerable

One night I decided to mix it up a bit with my young lover.
I sat him down in an arm less chair, blindfolded him and turned
off the reggae music. Telling him to relax and focus on his
five senses, I began to touch him lightly, on the shoulder,
a kiss on kneecap, my hair on his back slowly trailing down.
I then turned his right hand over and sat down gently on his
upturned palm.  He giggled and squirmed but I made him be still.

Next, I gently inserted my left nipple into his right ear.  Then I circled him again and knelt in front of him.

His breathing sped up and I slowly blew on his belly, giving him goosebumps all over his thighs.

Things began to really heat up when I kissed the tip of his penis so i began sprinkling powder on both of us to reduce friction in the heat, to slide easier skin to skin,  and to make him wonder what I was doing.

I flicked his nipple.  He held on tight to the chair and gritted his teeth.

Finally I moved to straddle him after 10  very slow licks from perineum up between balls over the head and down
the top of shaft.  He was moaning and panting.
I tried to take my time in the entry. Like Woody the owl and the tootsie roll commercial, “a one… a two… crunch!”

It’s so hard to wait and go slowly!

I moved with delicious sensuality, agonizingly slow I sat down on his huge erection.
Finally balls deep I held onto the back of the chair my feet came off the floor
and he rocked me back and forth.  His blindfold came off and we were clinging to one another.
Soon, we moved to the rocking chair in the living room and I faced away from
him doing backward cowgirl until I squirted all over the chair.

Then we moved over to the floor and he got me from behind while diddling my
button at the same time which of course set me off again.
Next a hasty move to the massage table which is the ultimate perfect height for
face-to-face sex.  He turned me around and I realized this was even better! Why?

We can see ourselves in the window!  He, with  his beautiful, lean,  tall and totally cut black body and me, with my

curvy white body responding in a beautiful contrast color and shapes.
Finally I crawled up on the narrow table with him on his back. I tried to go
slow again but  we ended up slamming hard into one another both of us yelling and
laughing talking all the while. We asked each other where to do it…this way or
that way communicating constantly and when his boner would fade a bit as we
moved positions I would simply bring it back to life with the touch or a flick
my tongue.
At Last after hours of acrobatic sex he said, ” Hey, let’s go find those toys you got the other night!”

So we went in the bedroom and found the nipple clamps but I chickened out
because it’s PMS week. Instead we got out the new cock ring.  It’s like a
silicone stretchy band that goes around the base of his penis on the top of that
there is a little motor that vibrates with several little tickler bumps the top
of it
He put it on and turned on the little motor. His whole shaft shaking in quiet
vibration not unlike my vibrator but a lot warmer. And then I slowly slid down
on it and it touched my clit! Oh my God! As I felt the lovely tightening inside
ripple into am orgasm it roiled and rolled on and on and on into one of the
longest climaxes I’ve ever had!
We went in varied strokes- little fast soft easy hard crazy and then finally we
both came together in the most explosive and longest lasting orgasm I can remember!

May 29, 2014

Closure Conversation – WTF?

The relationship is over, what started out so amazing and miraculous has dwindled to us weaning off each other for about the same amount of time we were in love! We had the chance to discuss openly and honestly about what worked and what didn’t work. Lemme tell you, it SUCKED OUT LOUD!!! Trying to be grown up, reasonably sitting down to hear what he didn’t like about the way I behaved or reacted was agony. The three main gripes are still ringing in my head, “You’re needy, controlling, and over-sensitive”. At first I attacked him, feeling defensive and hurt which of course turned immediately to anger. The jabs just flew out of my mouth as I cringed inside at how nasty and bitchy I sounded. I am much quicker to articulate so he was flabbergasted speechless at first. How dare he push these buttons I’ve tried so hard to hide! I was a venomous woman scorned and if he’d have let me I would have ended the relationship, possible friendship, and conversation right then and there. He persevered.

Now three hours later in my bed alone I am glad he held out under my attacks long enough to allow me to see that it was true and these are the things I need to work on within myself. None of my past loves have said I was needy, they’ve thrown out, ” bossy”, “hyper-sensitive”, and “emotional”, but never needy. It feels like a weak and desperate word but I was strong until I fell deeply and madly in love. Like a sneaky virus, my perspective of his reactions, words, and expressions became too important, too influential, and way too painful if he wasn’t adoring me. I found myself needing his hugs after a hard day, I baited him to send flirtatious texts, and I leaned on him for emotional support I should have sought from my girlfriends instead. So sue me, I’m used to making the man in my life the center and working around him! This is the first relationship I’ve started anew since I’ve had my children so I had no idea how hard the juggle would be! My kids are the center of my life and if a man can’t take second or third place priority in my life it simply won’t work. I must admit I want to be at the very top of HIS list though, unless he has kids, then I’ll take second place and nothing less.

In all other aspects of my life I’ve been powerful, strong and self assured, yet one wrong word (according to my over sensitive heart) would make me spin out of control and beat it to death, ultimately making him regret opening his mouth in the first place! No wonder men have a hard time communicating! If the woman is like me and all my fellow females it’s just too damn dangerous to tell the truth to us! As I sit here typing I realize that it’s true what he said. I am more rational now and I can see that I am sensitive and strong both and sometimes my love for someone does indeed make me need them.

The best thing I can do from here on out is to vow to not take his words of criticism and make them into baggage that I drag into my next relationship. (more…)

May 9, 2014

Grown up “toy store”

Last night there were dishes in the sink, laundry to fold, and bills to pay. I called my Bestie and she asked if I wanted to go and get the cars washed and vacuum them out. We decided if we got high we could turn up the music in her car and get that over-due chore out of the way. When she showed up at my house, I said, “All my errands and duties are weighing heavily on me, I’m tired from work, the kids are with my mom and…. and I’m horny! Lets go to the sex shop instead.” She was pleasantly surprised and, as usual, game for anything to take her mind off her pending divorce and stresses of her forty-something busy mom life.

Usually I laugh all the way through the store at how silly and cheesy some of the stuff is, curious about all the toys and what they do to what parts of the body. Some things we never quite figure out what they do!
Last night, though I was on a quest for the perfect G spot/clitoral vibrator. We drove the poor lame salesgirl nuts asking her to put batteries in all the various phallic shapes and gadgets. There were dozens! I should work in such a shop, I could write reviews and educate people on what could be fun in bed.

In the end I picked the strongest vibrating one with two little metal balls embedded in the tip of a soft silicone shaft that curved in and up, just right. I haven’t tried it out yet but I’ll let you know how it goes in a future post! My Bestie got an amazing combo that had the outside bunny ears that go on either side of the clit and the inside shaft that gyrates in circles. Both have adjusting speeds of course!

I have a few friends who are shy about these things and would never set foot in a sex shop. So I bought them gifts! I recently discovered the cock ring. It’s made of stretchy silicone and fits over the mans’erection at the base and atop is a very strong motor that runs a lovely little vibrating box with squishy bumps of it. This perfectly meets the happy place, and rocks my world if I’m on top! So I bought three of those and will send two to the shy girls and I’ll keep the one that imitates a pierced tongue for myself, (I’ve always wondered what that feels like). They will thank me later I am sure! On my way to the register I glanced down and saw the word “SLUT” on a book title. It turns out I had to have that too as it describes in great detail the rules and ethics that go with a polygamous lifestyle, open relationship and/or group sex. I love the title, The Ethical Slut. Hey its’ research for my book so I had to have it!

So my dear readers, I will post Fridays from now on. Please stay tuned and leave a comment if you like.
The title of my book is My Purple Fridays, so tonight I’ll be trying out my new toys and reading my new juicy book!
Wishing you and yours a very happy Purple Friday.

Sierra

May 2, 2014

Phoenix Molting

phoenix burning

 

I had sequenced my life like every American girl is told she should:  finish school, get a good job, get married, have children,  buy a house, have 2.5 kids… blah blah blah.  All my life I’ve always followed the rules (well, mostly) and I’m tired of the way I have settled for less than I am capable and deserving of.

My life was all about pleasing others since the day I wed.  Having to compromise and suppress what I really wanted to do, have, or say so that the marriage stayed intact was the most self esteem destructive thing I have ever done.  I had myself so repressed that I was on anti-depressants for years, bit my nails to bleeding stumps, and cried uncontrollably when I had the rare chance to be home alone.  I commuted over an hour each way to work and had to ask my parents for help many times.  Still, we foreclosed on our home after my husband lost his third job in two years.  He never once thanked me for all the blood sweat and tears I poured into keeping that house, not once.  In fact I believe he resented the fact that I had the skills to provide for the family and he had neither the ambition nor the confidence to find what he loved and do it for a living.  I lost respect and desire for him.  Still, I stayed. Why? The same excuse/reason millions of women stay, we stay

FOR THE CHILDREN!

This was my lot in life and I intended to stay and serve my time because I made the commitment, through good times and bad. He broke his vows, though and I fell completely apart.  I went into a deep depression and lost myself to fear.

How could I do all I was already doing PLUS raise my two boys alone? What if a bad guy found out I was alone and broke into the house? I had horrific nightmares like the movie, The Prince of Tides.  Remember when Nick Nolte finally told Barbra Streisand what had happened to him as a child? My worst fear was that I couldn’t protect my babies. When my husband left me for another woman I felt completely vulnerable, lost, adrift in anxiety.  I needed my old routines; I missed his constant, yet annoying, fat, lazy presence of fourteen years. I woke every night after he left in a pool of sweat, shaking with fear of the unknown future and of how I could raise two boys all alone.  From the corner of my room in the middle of yet another sleepless night, I wrote this poem.

Molting

Bald spot here on my back

Shame grief shock- exposed

Before I can react

More feathers fall

Chunks of ego drop away

Tender vulnerable raw

My skin thin, pink

People shy away

Looking down I’m naked

Old self burning away

Breathing into closed eyes

Who am I to be now?

Serene in surrender

Nothing to cling to

True colors begin to glow

I let the fire burn

I am the Phoenix

I will fucking FLY!!!

Fly I have this past year, higher and more wildly than I ever could have imagined during that cold lonely night.   My multi-colored wings shine in the Light of self-acceptance, love, and confidence knowing that the strength I need for ANY situation is always within.

April 17, 2014

Let Go For Dear Life

hands with baby

 

Letting go is required of  women as soon as our child is born.  We cut the cord and begin to watch our hearts grow tiny arms and legs and run off on their own path. They go to preschool, ride their bikes, grow facial hair and demand we let them grow up.  Every good Mommy knows the gift of that ultimate paycheck, the unsolicited kiss from our children that shows us it’s all worth it.  Now as my boys begin their teenage years I must release them further and further out into the world.  The world I wont let them watch on TV news, the world I know will be wonderful and heart-wrenching and fulfilling for them, and sometimes it will suck out loud. If I hold on too tightly they will pull away even further.  A friend of mine held her son a bit too tightly- wouldn’t even let him play with a water gun, in fact no weapons of any kind for this red-blooded American kid.  So, on his 18th birthday he went straight out and joined the Green Beret.  Now he can play with all the weapons he damn well pleases.  Often Mothers of older children learn the hard way and lose touch with them, then with the younger siblings release the strangle hold and maintain a much better relationship.  Learning from my fellow Mothers, I know I must make this supreme effort to unhand my children so they can spread their beautiful independent wings and fly.

hands his and hers

 

Lovers have to let go too.  My friends often share that enmeshing every aspect of their lives with their beloved makes them feel safe and loved.  But the sages say healthy boundaries are essential to a strong relationship. At the moment I don’t know what my relationship is with  my wild free-spirited musician, all I know is the more I let him go do his own thing, the better we connect and the happier we both become.  Boundaries that force us to release that which we love the most actually frees us on a deeper level.  It allows the law of attraction to work in our favor.  The more we believe, think, and KNOW we are in the Divine Flow of our lives, the better and better it gets.  Remember the lyrics for that old 38 Special song? “Just hold on loosely but don’t let go. If ya cling too tightly, you’re gonna… you’re gonna… lose control!”

We want each other as long as our beloved doesn’t cling and get insecure.  Neediness is NOT sexy.  As soon as one lover pulls away the other often gets desperate, grasping and thus, pushing them further away.  When we truly let go of the fear of being replaced, when we are willing to stand in our power and REMEMBER WE ARE WHOLE AND DON’T NEED ANOTHER PERSON TO MAKE US SO, we are truly free!

My last and most important lesson in letting go is to release the little (ego) self to become the real Self.  Can we be okay in our own presence and honestly love who we are and who we are not?  Is there a day when we look in the mirror and finally say “I am good enough, no one does me better than I do!” We have all heard the inner judge whispering to us to turn off the lights so our lover doesn’t see the cellulite, and hold in our stomach while we spoon so he doesn’t feel flab.  A man may worry that his penis is too small, that he is overweight, and/or the woman he is with isn’t pleased with their skills in bed. To that judge I call “BULLSHIT!”

We’ve all been told to keep cool and maintain control, but to what end?  Ulcers, anxiety, depression, and yes even premature ejaculation can be a result.  We Americans battle for control.  We want power over our own emotions, over others’ actions, and our lives in general, but it never works.  I am am sick and tired of trying to hold on to everything I hold most dear. From now on I vow to leave the lights on, walk around the house in all my naked glory and speak my mind even if it’s not popular. Even if releasing scares the hell out of me.

I will let people go who want to go, love them if they come back, remain centered if they don’t, and allow changes instead of fighting for the illusive puppet strings.

What am I waiting for? I’m letting go for dear life.

heart in palms

April 7, 2014

Bliss Bombs

 

 

A few weeks ago I broke up with the Love of My Life (LOML).  We took the white-hot ride into relationship. We met, talked on the phone, text-ed, and then he moved in. He caught a one-way flight with nothing but a backpack and his bass guitar.We fell deeply,  madly, crazily, fiercely, in love.

I have two beautiful children and I made the decision to open my home and my family to him.  He was kind, mellow, creative, and very spiritual.  We talked about how I would be the parent and he could just be their friend.  We had an agreement that he would gig (he’s a professional musician) , and I would support him until he got on his feet.  The only thing he needed to do was let me parent my boys and respect my decisions about them.  He crossed that line one day when he told them he gets high.  I felt a huge crack open up in our foundation. It was the beginning of the end.

We had shared many romantic nights by the fire when the kids were gone to their dads’  house.  We laughed, made love, and connected on a deeper level than I knew was possible.  At one point, watching the sunset he actually entered my heart and became one with me on a deep level, impossible to describe in words.  All the orgasms, massages, tender caresses (he once spent 20 minutes on my left knee just exploring and appreciating it), all the meditations we shared, everything bonded us close.  My LOML would plant what I called bliss bombs down my spine, kissing each and every vertebrae from my neck to my ass and then back up.   I felt God had finally answered my prayers, I was loving, loved, and lovable at last.  The best part for me was to pour my love into someone of like mind and soul, to see his eyes light up and a huge smile spread across his face, all because I loved him.

But after three months of the good stuff, I became a walking talking button, everything he did and said smashed another button.  He became morose and defensive. I was angry and resentful.  He needed a job and his own place soon or we would burn the relationship to the ground.  All I kept fighting for was for him to own the mistake of blabbing to my kids his habit, and to get a job, any job and help contribute. Uh oh, trouble in paradise, maybe my LOML is a short-lived experience? Is this where our two worlds collide and turn everything upside down, then spin-off in opposite directions?

I don’t know what he saw in my countenance those last days but it was so bad that he just left, with no money and nowhere to go. He just couldn’t stand to see me so miserable and feel he was the cause of it so he walked away.  LOML is now homeless in the park downtown.  Living and communing with other lost and searching souls under the picnic tables.  My heart has been wrenched with guilt and worry since he left but I knew it was better for me and my family that he go.  After two and half long weeks of crying myself to sleep and keeping manically busy to avoid the pain, I realized I just wanted the good stuff.  Couldn’t I just cull off the cream of the crop? Can’t I just have the bliss and leave the rest of the bullshit behind?  I forgot what was so bad between us and only focused on the amazing loving connection I had finally found after four long years of playing cougar with younger guys and chasing women. The single life has no appeal for me now that I am in love.  I threw caution to the wind, cancelled my date for Friday and girls night out plans for Saturday and invited him to come stay the weekend.

Friday after work I went and picked him up.  He smelled terrible and was embarrassed to hug me.  Still though, his eyes shone with his amazing Light and I told him I just wanted a weekend of bliss and peace and no heavy conversation.  After a very long hot shower and shampoo he came and held me closely.  We were back! We dove heart-first  into that nirvana state of consciousness that time stops and speeds up all at once.   In the flow completely, we enjoyed each others’ humor, touches, sounds, smells and hearts to the fullest.

Once again by the fire we made love, climaxing at the same time and opening our hearts to each other, just like when we first met. We found that sweet spot of harmony and giddy joy in each others company.  “Bombs away!” , I told my Bestie when she asked how the weekend was going.  He was planting those bliss bombs all weekend, the biggest one is still exploding in my heart.

Am I worried about the fallout?  Do I fear the shrapnel of regret or loss again?

No, dear reader I do not.  This is the only life I get and I want the good stuff whenever and however I can filter it out of the daily life of a single mom in love with a homeless man.

 

 

 

July 2, 2012

Inmate holds the key

Oh the effin key is in my pocket!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Late last night I spoke with an old beloved friend.  He told me of his fear of leaving the woman he’s been with for 15 years.  They have no children, no marriage contract, no shared property yet he cannot find the strength to walk away.  Much like an investment he has been waiting for a return, a payoff for all the time, tears, love, and effort he has put into the relationship.  His light though, has dimmed. In many ways he has done time, not lived.

My advice was biased by what I have discovered after splitting up.  Beyond the pain, the loneliness, the guilt is true self discovery.  I shared that if my husband hadn’t left me for another woman I would still be there, angry and overwhelmed. In time, I told him, he too could find his bliss, his true joy in being him.

We laughed at how much easier it would be to just get caught in bed with another woman.  How all the talking, worrying, arguing, counseling could be circumvented by her walking in on him.  He could simply break it quickly like a bone and leave if he were caught in the ultimate act of betrayal.  I giggled maniacally and offered to be naked in his bed with him as long as she didn’t own a gun.

I realized it’s not only women who hold on and fear change. Men, too, feel this stagnant frustration in dead relationships that they can’t get out of.  I suggested counseling, a trip together, some sort of retreat where they try to rediscover what brought them together in the first place.  He sighed, defeated and said that all sounds like more work. No thank you.

Compassion flowed out of me as we cried together. I shared how important it is to see the other side of a hardship. Like if you’re afraid someone will die, you must see yourself going through the funeral, seeking grief therapy afterward, reinventing your life without that person.  Same with leaving someone, we need to see ourselves in that new little place that’s all our own, sitting and eating alone, sleeping alone, smiling in our independence.  Visualizing the day that we wake up and stretch and smile, glad in the knowledge that the day ahead is one we have consciously made, it is not a jail sentence to live out like the hundreds you lived before it.  The new day of the new life is full unexpected turns and your new reactions to them.

We admitted that this could be what everyone talks about when they say “midlife crisis insanity”.  This short life is here and now.  We are approaching 50 and we feel an urgency to live that’s stronger than yesterday but not as intense as it will feel tomorrow.

When I hung up the phone I closed my eyes and looked at my new life.  In my life now I have the freedom to do what and whoever I want, I have the time and money to live each day as I wish it, sitting with the bliss of my own company.  I wish for everyone in the world to be free, in this country we actually are free.  Therefore there is no excuse to sit in jail when we hold the key, terrified of the unknown.  Like a ride at Disneyland, the darkness can be thrilling, the dips and turns are scary but ultimately the deeper need in each of us is to NOT KNOW how it will end.  For this beautiful mystery I say thank you God.

June 20, 2012

Woman-50 and Ready to Die

How a woman found herself at last

A woman in crisis came for spiritual counseling.  She had just turned 50 and was suicidal.  She had never felt like she belonged here, never felt worthy, and had never done anything of value with her life.  Her father died when she was a teen; she felt it should have been her instead and wished she could just leave this life.  Grief, guilt, and a very harsh body image (she is thin and athletic, by the way) kept her self-loathing intact, completely restricting her ability to even consider what made her happy.  She missed her chance at life by never fulfilling any of her dreams.  Her entire life had been spent trying to please others, to be a good daughter, student, friend, employee, and lover.  She had never done a single thing she wanted just for her own self-expression or creative enrichment. NEVER.

As the practitioner offered suggestions, she folded her arms and legs and refused to be open to the options in her life.  It was simply too late.  She had come to define her wasted life as an unalterable death sentence and would just as soon get on with the next life and try again.

Have you ever wondered what the hell you’ve been doing all these years instead of living?  I sure have.  After a devastating divorce and finding myself a single mother of two boys, I set myself in front of the mirror and took a long hard look.  “Girl, this is it,” I said,” it’s time to find a way to feed your soul and live your life differently.  All those years in service to others has made you a martyr; you’ve become bitter and exhausted.”  As I really opened up to the patterns I had been clinging to, I realized I needed therapy and lots of it.  Work, sleep, shop, cook, clean, drive, discipline, guide, help, give give give…all these verbs defined me and I was empty with nothing left to nourish me.   Besides endless to-do lists, over the years I had developed chronic migraines, insomnia, and debilitating depression.  These maladies were manifestations or symptoms of a life seriously out of balance.  Each night I took handfuls of pills to cope but I will still slipping backward… then my husband left me for another woman.

As I write these words now, sitting peacefully on my couch next to the fire with the rain falling lightly outside, I am a new woman.  I have worked very hard to face my demons of shame, blame, and victimhood and have come to really love myself for the first time.  Each Friday my boys spend the night with their dad and I get this 24-hour span of time for me.  I spend that time doing whatever pleases ME.  If he hadn’t left me I may have become that shell of a woman in the counselor’s office saying that I had wasted my life and I only wished to start all over.

The poem by Jenny Joseph, “Warning” (When I am Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple), resonated with me.  Why should I wait until I am old? How about now while I am still hot and energetic and brave enough to go for it?  Yes, it’s been a scary and at times awkward journey over the past year, but as I share my story I hope to encourage other women to go live life without the regrets of never having lived.  Come with me, but first take a deep breath!

And just in case you were curious, that woman who was 50 ready to die? She stepped out of her comfort zone and attended a women’s retreat.  Somewhere during the second day her tightly crossed arms unfolded, her heart cracked open and the tears came – long, hard, and seemingly unstoppable.  It scared her – but not to death.  It scared her into life and the realization that this life could be wonderful if she chose to live it.  It was time to explore what she came here to do.  She started volunteering with animals and she even discovered she loved to cook and wanted to travel.

Breakdown into breakthrough… I can relate to that!  Can you?

June 8, 2012

Sex cougar style

 

On a recent escapade I met a young man who was many years my junior.  He  eagerly struck up conversation, offering me a drink and asking lots of questions. One thing I love is a man who doesn’t start every sentence with “I” or “My “, but instead inquires about me.  This young stud was putting out all the signals of wanting to get to know me in EVERY way. Ultimately, I realized, he wanted  me to teach him how to become a better lover.  After much talk about how I am not looking for long term monogamy and just out sewing my wild oats, he kissed me.  Nice chemistry! After checking in with my BF, I let myself be persuaded to teach him a few important rules for pleasing a woman in bed. I did this as a favor to womankind. I felt it was my feminist duty to tutor this virile young buck for the sake of my sexy sisters. I did it in the interest of improving the sex lives/orgasms for all the future women he would fuck in his life and, yes, I was horny too.

At the hotel in the shower I realized for the younger generation, “manscaping” means no hair at all! He shaves his chest, belly, and nether regions completely bald! He was in his prime, probably less than 5% body fat and raring to go. I whispered between passionate kisses how I am interested in mixing it up and I want a man who is willing to be unpredictable in bed.  I spent years in a marriage where I could tell you exactly what my husband would do and in what order.  Shall I bore you?

  1. Kiss lips, kiss neck, rub boner on my leg.
  2. Suck nipples- left then right then left again.
  3. Go down, not nearly long enough, and then ask for a blow job.
  4. Get in, get off, get out, and fall asleep instantly.

Sound familiar?

There is no one else on Earth who knows our body better than we do. As mature women living in this modern society we have explored our own dimensions and found our happy buttons (hopefully) and the pace at which they should be rubbed, sucked, or licked.  We know EXACTLY what we like and can tell our lovers, if they let us.  This is the beautiful thing about being a “cougar.” I love to educate the young men of the next generation on how to please women ( i.e. me).  It took a while for him to open up and start talking.  He said younger girls dont really want to talk much and he wasn’t used to it.  As the foreplay and sex progressed from the bathroom,  into the bedroom, off the bed and out onto the balcony, we told each other what we liked. It made the sex really hot.   I fear it would’ve become frustrating and boring if we hadn’t been willing to talk and, instead,  just guessed what the other person liked, all the while just  hoping for the best.

It’s all about communication.

Why then, is there all this fumbling around? Why are some of these poor sots trying to spell out the alphabet on my clit? It’s not a Sherlock Holmes mystery to be solved, its simple communication.  If your partner can speak and hear it’s quite simple.  Tell him what you like.  They may be clueless like this last Friday night boy who thought that just a finger or two diddling around was enough with maybe a quick lick or two in between.  I like it side to side, I told him, not up and down.  He may need to change that technique with his next lover but for me I come almost every time I receive good oral sex.  I love it when a man goes down and stays awhile, gets real comfy and explores me. This young stud learned that it’s vital to my orgasmic buildup that he spend some unhurried effort getting to know my individual folds and happy placed. Thankfully he was eager to take directions.

I did wonder though, if it was different with me than it was with other women he had been with who hadn’t yet pushed a giant head or two out of their vaginas?  I dont think he noticed, since he spent the next four hours with a woman confident in her own body who knew how to please and instruct  him in the ways of women’s pleasure.

So there, I’ve done my part in the evolution of man. More to follow!