You know the new little friend I made recently?
I’ve never squirted before and have always been curious about it; and right in the moment, I was thinking of the advice they always give you: “Don’t hold back! Bear down like you’re trying to push the orgasm right out! Don’t by shy; it’s not pee!”
Well, you know what?
An. Awful. Lot.
Oh, god. Never before have I had such crushingly awesome G-Spot orgasms that get me excited enough to bite the stuffing out of my pillow and leave me a limp, quivering mess afterward.
That is all. Continue reading ‘I love my new vibrator.’
A story, a little over a year old: I’m sitting in front of the computer and IMing back and forth with my boyfriend before leaving for class. It’s been a couple of months since we’ve last seen each other; and while we both miss each other, I can tell the geographical separation is hitting him the hardest. This stomach-twistingly awkward conversation follows, roughly paraphrased:
Me: [insert crap about facebook here]
Boyfriend: I have a quick question that’s been nagging at me awhile. And you know, I don’t want to be That GuyTM, but you said that you want me to be honest with you no matter what. So.
Me, thankful that irritation and eye-rolling can’t be conveyed over the internet: What’s the question?
Boyfriend: Who is that guy who always posts on your facebook wall? He addressed you as ‘babe’ the other day on your wall, which made me raise my eyebrow a bit.
Me: He’s my friend. My flamingly gay friend.
Boyfriend: Ok! Well, that’s fine. I mean, now that I know.
Yeah. Now that he knew. Continue reading ‘feeling new’
Well, not really. Just temporarily, I guess; and without all the somber religious undertones.
My first real relationship was only a few years ago; and since then, I’ve put up with lots of lackluster sex. Initially, I was completely willing to sacrifice my own desires just to stay in a stifling, unsatisfying relationship, telling myself that the shitty sexual chemistry between me and my ex was as unimportant as a squabble over which brand of air freshener to buy. After I broke up with him, my standards slowly evolved to something somewhat fairer. Continue reading ‘Pondering celibacy.’
Henry Cavill!
Since he's hotter than a fox in a forest fire, I'm willing to forgive the overabundant chest hair.
Look at that sweet face. Just. Look.
Unfortunately, there weren’t many photos of him half-naked (or even just shirtless, for goodness’ sake), as there often are with female stars, which made me all pouty for a few minutes before I finally decided to just go sip green tea with lemon and watch some gay porn.
Today, I went to an erotica-writing workshop; and another girl in the group shared her discomfort with writers who don’t disclose potential triggers1 for readers. And while this isn’t something I’ve thought about in reference to my own writing, she’s completely right – if someone comes to this blog, they deserve to know whether they’ll click on a title and stumble into something that just might ruin their day. Continue reading ‘On triggers: mine and everyone else’s.’
