Wednesday, February 24, 2010

M.I.A

I'll be gone until like... I dunno, Wednesday of next week. My laptop charger has broken (again) and I've ordered a new one. So, when it arrives, I'll be back. I'm sure I have at least one loyal follower that would wonder where I am.

We have a desktop, but um... Can't exactly write about pussy and dick with people standing over your shoulder. I could use my mom's laptop, but her keyboard is unnecessarily cramped and we currently aren't talking... I think... We (meaning she) had a big blow up. She yelled, I cried. That's how it always works. We haven't verbally communicated since Monday (we've exchanged about four text messages, lol). I don't care either way. I wonder how long she can hold out.

So, yes. That's where I'll be. :D No porn or erotica for a week. My clit is already going through withdrawals.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

And in Other News

Apparently, this chick can come and come and come without much clitoral/vaginal stimulation. She orgasms from deep-throating a dildo. What the hell, dude. I question if it's genuine, but it's interesting, nonetheless. Turn your volume down. She's a screamer.

That's porn, but the way. Strictly for educational purposes, of course. (but if you get off on this bitch having orgasmic epilepsy, right on)

Watch Me Get Off

I was thinking about a documentary I saw on TLC about sex when I was in high school. I don't remember the name, but I clearly remember there being a small snippet of two people on a trolley and a man has his hand up a woman's (extremely short) skirt, which led to her straddling him. He scooted her closely to his crotch, which, clearly, meant he was penetrating her. No sexual body parts were shown, but I remember masturbating for days to that thirty-second segment. I felt like I was seeing something I wasn't supposed to. That was so sexy to me.

I've always been very intrigued by public sex. I don't really understand it, and I don't think I could ever do it, but watching genuine public amateur sex in porn is pretty hot. I used to be a part of a forum of about twenty women. We talked about everything from kids to money to relationships to sex. I brought up the topic of public sex/masturbation and what the appeal of it is. One of the woman has two kids and is a single mom, so she doesn't have much time to herself, so she masturbates in the parking lot in her car during her breaks at work. I couldn't believe it. What if someone saw her? Does she subconsciously want to get caught? Being caught with your legs open and a vibrator thrusting in and out of your pussy isn't a situation where "IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" will work.

I've been told that the anticipation of possibly getting caught is such a turn on. I still don't get it. When I masturbate, I don't go out of my way to be extremely secretive, but I don't lay on the kitchen table with my crotch in the air, either. I'm sure my mom has heard my vibrator going in the middle of the night when she goes in the kitchen to get a bottle of water. She's never mentioned it, though. I was almost caught masturbating around the time I was sixteen. I was under the covers and my daddy walked in. I just turned over and acted natural. It wasn't hot. It wasn't a turn on. I was pissed off because I was about to come and he ruined it.

True, I've had the fantasy of not knowing I'm being watch while I touch myself, and some guy with a huge and throbbing dick comes up and works me over. But, I mean... I just want a huge throbbing dick in general...

Monday, February 22, 2010

Something I've Noticed

Since I've taken out my vibrator, three people have called and two have texted. Really? REALLY?! I haven't even gotten a chance to turn the damn thing on. It's like they know.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

"I Think I Have an STD."

So, I'm in my room, basking in my menstrual amazingness, when I get a text from a female friend (...the one that called me a lesbian) that simply said "I think I have an STD". Wow. I'm the bitch everybody runs to when they have sexual/pussy problems (how ironic, huh? The VIRGIN is the one giving the advice), but I was still surprised that she asked me about it.

You see, if I were to suspect that I had some type of raging STD... The first thing I would do would NOT be to text my friend. I would be acting like nothing was wrong and frantically calling The Amazing Dr. G so I could get in and she could run a full gamut of tests. Ditto for pregnancy. I wouldn't call anyone and say "Dude! I need to get an abortion. Wanna come with? ROAD TRIP!" I would handle my business alone. Then again, I'm an only child, so my choices have always been to either do things by myself or take my mom with me. I'm sure you know which option I always choose.

She gave me her list of symptoms and with the assistance of Google and my general knowledge, I told her what I thought she had (pharyngeal gonorrhea). Granted, I could be (and probably am) WAY off base. I don't have an RN or MD at the end of my name. But, I just don't understand why she wouldn't be safer. She made it out of high school with her virginity, but as soon as we started college, she went fucking crazy. I'm almost kind of jealous. She talks about all of her escapades of car fucking and the different positions and how her pussy is sore days after. Then shit like this happens and I stop being jealous all together. I don't want my throat to be riddled with gonorrhea.

Since taking off the ring, I've seen all of this shit about pregnancy and STDs and virginity. It's been incredibly weird. I'd like to think that I would be smart about shit and demand he put on a condom before humping me. Or that I would find some method of birth control that doesn't feel like it's eating my uterus alive. I refuse to be a girl that gets knocked up because she "got caught up in the moment". I may have an extensive fantasy of being filled with semen for numerous men, but until I build a guaranteed immunity from all diseases and God strikes me sterile, I just can't hop on the bareback whore train.

Post Secret













Loved this!

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I Just Feel Like Talking about my Period

With all of the anticipation of my period, I'm extremely aware of it now that it's finally arrived. My flow is starting to pick up and I can feel the gushes and drips whenever I move. This is my favorite part of my period. My cramps were starting to get really intense, so I took a Darvocet. My mom has a prescription for it (along with fucking Vicodin...) and she gave me one in exchange for me driving her somewhere. I actually paused when I typed that, because it sounds totally logical to be paid via narcotic pain relievers in my mind... But when I read it... It sounds kind of crazy. I'm not a druggie. I wish swear.

Something I've found that's weird? I've taken just about every OTC menstrual medication on the market. The Amazing Dr. G prescribed me Toradol (with eleven refills. God bless her), but none of the medication I've tried renders me completely cramp-free. Even when I take the prescription medication, I still have mild cramps. Orgasms, though, completely eliminate my pain. I think that's so weird. I come equipped with my own menstrual medication. My masturbation methods are very different during my period. I go incredibly slow, as opposed to my normal medium-speed rubbing. I breathe a lot more deeply and I'm more vocal. Occasionally, a few tears will escape, and I don't stop myself. I feel like, during my period, I'm doing so many things I can't control. I can't stop the bleeding, the cramping, the pressure, or the pain. So, I'm not going to stop the emotions that come with all of that. It's cleansing.

My mom's period is like mine, and her sister, too. We're all extremely heavy bleeders. I've had to take my mom a change of clothes/clean underwear while she was at work. She did the same for me when I was in eighth grade and hadn't yet learned to chart and count days between cycles. I used to have to use overnight pads or super plus tampons for the first five days of my period. Since my whole "menstrual epiphany" and giving up all disposable products, it doesn't seem to be as bad as it used to be. I still bleed for eight days and I still frequently stain panties, but I've just learned to embrace it. It's only when I'm nearing the end that I'm ready to call it quits, because I get tired of wearing underwear all day.

Before I graduated, my friends and I would all have our periods at the same time. One of use would buy one of those big two dollar Hershey bars and we would break it apart and share it at lunch. We took bathroom breaks together and I can still hear the jumble of feminine hygiene product paper, voices going between stalls, and pee tinkling into the water. We always asked "Is there anything on the back of my pants?" when we got up after sitting for a while, and we would check each other (with me normally giving their ass a smack for good measure). We talked about it freely and passed along tampons to friends that forgot theirs. We never kept up a lot of drama, but we were all exponentially calmer when we all had our periods. There was also more touching (some would lay their heads on others' shoulders and there were more unexpected hugs) and we didn't always have to talk. We could just be in each others' company without awkwardness. It was like a sisterhood of menstruation. I miss that so much.

Anyway, I now spend most of my time alone (in terms of contact with friends), which is fine. I love to write (obviously) while menstruating. I love to read while idly touching myself. I love to masturbate. I wish I could share my passionate love and appreciation for my period with other women. It's honestly one of the best feelings in the world. I actually count men unfortunate that they don't have the privilege of experiencing it.

Finally. Dammit.

I fell asleep at around 1am and, since my mom is the only one that apparently lives in this house, she was making an unnecessary amount of noise at 8am. I was still tired, but I couldn't stay asleep, so I got up. I passed out again around 12 (family lunch averted), and I just woke up to that familiar labial stickiness. I reached down, parted my lips, and stuck a finger in. I looked at my first two fingers and saw the light red. Finally bleeding. Minor cramps and anal pressure, but nothing that needs to be medicated. It's probably mental, but I feel calmer. I don't give a fuck what it is, as long as I don't revert back to being a seething maniac.

I'm so happy I have this blog. I mean, no one would care to listen to me go on and on about my bloody pussy. I can talk about it as much as I want.

So, anyway, I'm currently freebleeding, because I'm just too warm and comfortable (and lazy) to go put on a cloth pad or shove my DivaCup in. I'm not bleeding heavily, so scheduled wiping will suffice. I so love my uterus.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Dog and the Ring

Boobs are still sore. Fingers are still slightly swollen. Vagina is still completely bloodless. My mom is probably controlling my uterine functions, too.

I went to a friend's house today. I'm allergic to pretty much anything with fur, but I don't go into anaphylactic shock and pass out or anything. I just sneeze/cough/wheeze/get itchy eyes. Anyway, she has four cats and two dogs. My sinuses freaked the FUCK out and I was sneezing as soon as I walked into the door. I could deal with that. But, as soon as I sat down, her two dogs headed straight for my crotch. I don't know what was up with that. I had two other people with me. They both got the normal "Oh hi!" sniffs and licks, but what I got wasn't a curious sniff. They were NUZZLING my pussy. It was incredibly awkward... And hot... But mostly awkward. I'm not a dog person, but fuck... Having something rub your pussy continuously is going to get you hot, regardless of the source. I could feel myself moistening. Their hot breath against me was turning me on more than it likely should have. I was almost returning their pants and whimpers. How fucking twisted can you get? "My friend's two dogs made me cream my undies".

Speaking of creamed undies, my masturbation habits have gone to shit. I think that's part of the reason why my life is currently shitastic. Normally, I have three orgasms a day. One with my vibrator, one with my fingers while laying on my back, and one with my fingers while laying on my stomach. I don't do it at the same time everyday. Sometimes, it's one after another, and others, they're hours apart. Lately? An orgasm a day, if that. I have the time, just not the "desire". I'll be laying there and think "Hey... Want to have an orgasm?..... No." I need emotional, hormonal, and sexual renewal. I feel like a sneeze that keeps starting, but it won't come out. I need relief. Someone should start a women's only orgasmic spa or something. You go in and you're provided with all of the resources (vibes, porn, etc) and privacy that you need to get off as many times as you like. That sounds heavenly.

I took the ring off. The Earth didn't shake. No glass shattered. I didn't start to cry. Nothing happened. It's currently atop my headboard. I haven't decided if I want to put it in my memory box or pawn that bitch. I can't pawn it. I'm still pissed off, so pawning it would be a rash decision that I would likely regret later. Though I don't identify with it anymore, it's still a part of who I am... Or was... It'll go in my memory box. Hell, I could wake up tomorrow and decide to put it back on. Likely not. I got the ring a few days after my fifteenth birthday. My mom said "You know why we're giving you this ring, right?" and I responded "A symbol of my promise to you and to God that I'll stay pure until I'm married." Well, I do some pretty impure shit, so I guess that ship sailed a while ago. I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm over it. I'm done.

Fingers

My fingers are swollen. I better have a bloody vagina in the fucking morning.

Update: Yeah. No blood. My feelings of extreme hatred have subsided, though. Now I'm sitting at a moderate level of dislike.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Serious PMS?

For the past several days, I have been incredibly on edge. By nature, I'm a pretty chill person, but I've been so wound up. I have what seems to be a chronic tension headache, my fucking boobs are still sore (they fucking feel engorged... I wish I was lactating... I would go all Selma Hayek and breast feed every being under the age of one), and EVERYTHING is working my nerves. I feel like a young teenager all over again. I'm feeling very "No one is listening and no one cares! Life is so unfair!" FUCK, I WISH I WOULD JUST FUCKING START MY DAMN PERIOD! I'm like... Three days late? Good thing I'm too scared to fuck, otherwise I would be shitting myself and researching abortion clinics. I could snap somebody's fucking neck right now and watch them bleed out at my feet. I kid you not. I used to get like this in high school. The week before my period, I would get all touchy and easily offended and cry like a little bitch about everything. I never thought it was PMS, because I thought it was just something women loved to use as an excuse to turn into psychos (I still kind of think that). Now, it only happens a few times a year. I'm very internal when I get like this. I shut down. I don't talk to people. I don't go out. I just spend time alone... Well, as much as I can without people (my parents) looking into my room for no reason all fucking day. I might murder them in their sleep tonight. No, I'm kidding. I don't think my car is big enough to discreetly transport their bodies downtown to dump in the river.

I'm supposed to have a coffee date tomorrow with a friend. She invited the friend that got engaged on Valentine's day (of course, she assumed I wouldn't mind... Since she didn't ASK). I'm not in the mood to listen to her lovey dovey bullshit. I don't feel like pretending to fawn over the ring he got her. I don't want to set a date to go dress shopping with her. I want her to stay her ass home with her almost-prepubescent-fiance.

I need to go into a field and just scream and cry and kick shit and act like a damn toddler in Wal Mart. When I get like this, I wish I had a friend to call and whine to. I don't (well, I do, but that bitch is buried in school work). But hell, I listen to everybody's problems and give them advice. Everybody puts their damn feet up on my couch while I listen like a special therapist. Where's MY couch? Who's MY therapist? I can't even tolerate myself when I get like this. I'm acting like the very type of person I loathe. A self-important ass that does nothing but think about herself.

I have to pee for the nine billionth time today. Heh. Maybe I'm the next Virgin Mary. Nah... God would want a wonderfully holy vessel. Not a vessel with a wonderfully wet hole.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Promise Ring Discussion

I've been thinking hard about giving up the promise ring. I, for some reason, drive left handed, so every time I drive, it's in my line of sight. I'm starting to almost develop ill feelings towards it. Anyway, I just had a short (unintentional) conversation with my mom about it:

Me: Ugh, feel my hands. They're are so cold. ::touches her leg::
Mom: You need to get the ring cleaned. It's looking incredibly raggedy.
Me: Oh. I'm thinking about retiring the promise ring soon.
Mom: ::looks at me out of the corner of her eye::
Me: Well, what's your opinion on that?
Mom: I don't know what you want me to say.
Me: Well, say something. "Oh, I want you to wait. You're not ready for sex yet."
Mom: Well, you know right from wrong and I've said that a million times. You're going to do what you want, regardless.
Me: ....so.... You don't care if I don't wear it anymore?
Mom: It's up to you, ::insert my name here::.
I hate it when she says my name after a sentence. Then she pretends to start typing on her laptop. I know she was pretending because she's a pecker. She uses her two index fingers to type, but after that conversation, she magically became an expert typist.

So... I don't know where we stand on the issue. I know she still wants me to wait until I get married, but I've relayed the fact that I DON'T want to get married to her on numerous occasions. I'm not even going to discuss this with Daddy. He'd probably have a heart attack.

I understand being a parent and wanting the best for your child. Watching shows like "16 and Pregnant" would definitely make me fear for my daughter's uterine vacancy. Besides that, when my mom was the age that I am now, she was pregnant with me, so I know she's scared. I just wish I could convince her that I won't be fucking any and every guy (even if it IS sort of my fantasy). Sometimes, I feel sexually frustrated. My moods change day to day, though. Today, I'm nearing my period, so I have no interest in sex at all. If someone told me I would never be able to fuck, I wouldn't care. Tell me that around my time of ovulation when I become a sex-crazed maniac, though, and I'll stab your ass. I switch up so often. I'm actually almost scared to have sex. I don't want to do it and regret it. Once your virginity is gone... It's gone. I don't believe in that "born-again virgin" bullshit. I think it's so idiotic. "Ohhh, I was at a dark point in my life. I tried to fill an emotional void with sex. After college, I became a born-again virgin and gave my virginity to my husband." Bitch, please. If by "dark point" you mean extremely horny and by "emotional void" you mean your wet and aching pussy, then yeah... I'd have to agree with you. Own that shit. You fucked and you liked it. Move on.

Sex isn't everything. Neither is virginity. I could find the perfect man and he might not care if I let a group of men run a train on me... And then I fucked their moms (omg, yes, please). OR, I could find a good Christian guy that waited for his wedding night to physically become one with his wife. FUCKKKK! I want sex, but I don't want to regret it. I tell myself that, if a man won't marry me because of my sexual history, he isn't worth it. Fuck, I don't want to get married anyway, right? RIGHT?! Dammit. Who invented marriage? Fuck them... Oh, wait... Did God invent it? Okay, if it's NOT God, then fuck them.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

My Boobs

With all the pussy talk, I've not spoken much of my boobs. It's never really crossed my mind to discuss them, because I often see them as more of a nuisance than an attractive accessory.

When I was younger, I used to pray that God would send me boobs and I would get my period. They came together, so He must have been listening. I went from being able to wear camisoles to school to having to wear full bras in less than a year. I have large boobs. Pretty big. Not so big that they look weird and disproportionate to my body, but they've had their share of attention. When they're sore, it's horrible, because every movement makes them jiggle. Most shirts create a ripple across the front, and summer months suck because I often experience "cleavage sweat" (which eventually turns into "cleavage itch"). I like my boobs just fine, I suppose. I don't want them to get any bigger (yet another reason to refrain from getting knocked up), and if I woke up tomorrow and I was a cup size smaller, I wouldn't be too terribly torn up about it. I sometimes envy the chicks with itty bitty titties that can throw on a sports bra and tank top and leave the house. Besides that, I hate bras. Like, a lot. As soon as I come home, my bra goes off before my shoes. Under-wire ruins my life.

I don't understand the sexiness of big breasts... At all... When it comes to me finding women attractive, I actually don't notice their boobs at all, unless they're outrageously huge, and then it's just an anomaly that anyone would notice. As I type this, I can't remember what Glenn Close's boob size seems to be. I know her breasts aren't huge, though. I, personally, would go for a woman with a B cup over a woman with a D cup. Palmable boobs. When I masturbate, I don't like nipple stimulation at all. I wouldn't say they're hypersensitive; they just just don't like being touched. I don't mine my boobs being touched by other people (I'm a boob whore. I'll let almost anybody cop a feel), but when it comes to doing it sexually, it doesn't turn me on at all. There are times when I'll be laying in bed and just lift my shirt and cup one boob will the other hand is cupping my pussy. I tend to fall asleep that way. It's incredibly comforting.

I fantasize about being titty-fucked and having semen drench my nipples. But, in actuality, when it comes to semen, I'm not choosy about where it goes. Just cover me in it. :D

Monday, February 15, 2010

Primal Sexuality

I wonder sometimes... "Am I REALLY this sexually liberated bitch who knows who she is?". I was watching a video on dodsonandross.com and, even though I've textually exposed my pussy on numerous occasions, seeing actual women discovering new things about themselves and their pussies was an incredibly amazing and emotional experience for me. I had to keep stopping and starting the video to absorb everything and prolong the feeling (visual orgasm, much?). I kept talking to myself saying things like "Whoa" "Cool!" and "...that's different...". I almost can't process it all. I started the video shifting uncomfortably on my bed, giggling awkwardly and looking in the opposite direction. It was like being in sex ed. for the first time all over again.

I'm coming from a home where nakedness isn't normal. People keep their clothes on. The first adult penis I saw was in 5th grade, when a friend told me about a porn site (crazyshit.com was the site. I still remember). I would look every night as soon as my parents went to sleep. Said friend and I would discuss the "tingle" we felt in our pants when we looked at the pictures, which told us that we needed to go pee. Not hardly... We were horny, but we didn't know it. I still get that exact same tingle before I masturbate. Anyway, I ended up getting in trouble because I hadn't yet discovered how to clear history. I wasn't allowed to use the phone, watch TV, and I don't think I was even allowed to TOUCH a computer for the rest of that school year. I'm still pissed about it. If it were ME and I had a child that was looking at porn, I would take it as curiosity, not impurity. It's only natural to wonder. I was punished for being curious and sexual. My mom never talked to me about sex. I feel like she did me a big injustice. I feel like that's part of the reason why I can so freely discuss sex now. I don't want anyone to feel like they can't talk about something so innate, even if it's just with me. I'm sad that it took me almost the first 20 years of my life to realize that it's okay to want sexual contact, whether it's with myself or another person. My sexual hunger doesn't have to (and isn't going to) wait until I'm married to be satiated.

Anyway, since it's so unnatural for sexual matters to be discussed, it was so shocking to me that a woman could actually have a sincere orgasm (moans and groans and all) with another woman in the room watching. Complete sexual vulnerability. In the video, a woman named Cynthia is moaning into her orgasm, and Betty moans with her. Touching her and guiding her. I've always loved her voice. So deep and sexy. I actually almost cried (like, I got full on misty-eyed. I'm such a mushy bitch). It was so primal and sexual and powerful and WOMANLY! I want that experience so badly for myself, but I know I wouldn't be able to let go of the shyness. I can write and talk about my pussy all day, as long as it's concealed inside a pair of jeans.

I found my hands wondering down into my panties, mimicking the same motions with my clit as in the video, just to feel the different sensations. I started thinking about having a super orgasm circle with the women of the site. Betty, Carlin, me, WildOrchid, Jex, Christina, Charlie and all others. The room will be filled with the sweet and intoxicating smell of pussy with a bunch of women just feeding off of the palpable sexual energy that only estrogen can provide.

Make Me Come


Alright. I'll give it to Facebook. You make it easy to keep tabs on everybody's relationships. Kudos.

So, I have a friend who got engaged today. Nauseating clich├ęs aside (I mean, really... Proposing on Valentine's day? A little originality, please), I'm happy for her. No, I lied. I'm not. My emotions almost drifted towards ambivalence, but I'm indifferent. Do I think it'll last? Um. I won't pass judgment. Why? She's freshly 20. How old is he? Ah, it doesn't matter, since he hasn't even graduated yet. Granted, said friend is... "More youthful" than I. I'm trying to avoid saying she's "immature", because I don't even know what people define maturity as these days. She's very codependent and drags him around to social outings and things of the sort. They've broken up a million times and gotten back together. Quintessential high school relationship, besides the fact that we've been out of high school for almost two years (he's graduating in May. Yay Seniors!). But whatever. That's not the point of this entry. They're getting married and they're missing a part of their relationship: She isn't coming during sex.

Okay. As I've said a million times, I'm not looking to get married (or even be in a relationship) by any means at this point in my life. I'm also not making any definite decisions (yet) about whether or not I want to have sex, either. I'm not a sexpert and I don't know everything there is to know about doing it. But you can bet your ass one thing: If you're going to stick your dick in THIS pussy, I'm going to come. I'm a bitch that loves visual aids with bright colors. I'll fucking draw your ass a diagram if need be, but you're not going to come in me and leave me laying there, unsatisfied.

I don't feel like a man (or woman) can "make me come". He (or she) can certainly help, but I don't "owe" my orgasm to anyone but myself. Truth be told, I would be a fucking man whore if I were a guy. I would be the most narcissistic asshole ever. I would be fucking bitches left and right. My dick would stay wet. I wouldn't be at all interested in getting a bitch off. But, thankfully, that isn't the case with her. He's just completely inexperienced. She puts his hand on her clitoris, but he doesn't know what he should be doing. Um... Fuck HIS hand. Use your own. My perspective: No one can please me like I can. I know that I like it when I use my index and ring fingers in a counter clockwise motion over my clit. I know that I like it when I make those same two fingers into a skinny "V" and "jack myself off". I can't expect him to know. He's a guy, for one. He doesn't have the same shit down there. And GOD FORBID if he's learned his skills from porn (which I think he has). You can't be shy. You have to show him. That can be sexy, too. Talking dirty and saying "I love it when you do that" sounds like a huge turn on to me.

But, hey. What do I know? I'm just a lowly virgin who's never been in a committed relationship. I couldn't possibly know what the fuck I'm talking about, right? I know one thing, though: I know myself and my pussy VERY well. Sex will be a pleasurable experience for me. If my partner doesn't know what to do, we'll start from square one. Learning to do something can be a better experience than already knowing how. I'm not going to fake it just to make him feel better. Sex should be pleasurable for BOTH people, not an ego trip for the one with the dick.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Oh, Post Secret

This made me think of.. Myself. Except, one day, I'd like to replace "pairs Victoria's Secret underwear" with "vibrators and dildos". :D

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Obligatory Valentine's Entry

No, I don't have a valentine. No, I'm not going to get roses and chocolate. No, I'm not going to snuggle my honey and tongue kiss the night away. And no, I'm not going to have great partner sex.

I'm going to be at home, with my Water Dancer running over my clit, making me squirm with orgasmic delight. I think I win.

Happy fucking Valentine's Day.

Friday, February 12, 2010

My Pussy Flavor

Okay, I caved. With Jexy's entry about tasting her pussy juice mixed with menstrual blood, I started being curious. I liked that she was in love with her natural taste. I wanted to possibly experience it. I've done it once before, I think, but it was obviously unremarkable, because I can't remember what it tasted like. Part of me wants to taste myself before I have someone else possibly taste me. Sort of like being a chef and tasting your own new dish before sending it out.

Before I go into detail about the act, I'll state the judgment: I'm not a fan... At all... I almost gagged. I psyched myself out prior to putting my finger in my mouth.

I didn't go in with any expectations; I was just taking myself for what I was. I took a shower to be sure the area was clean, and I didn't pee before trying it so I could get the true taste of my pussy. I stuck my middle finger in and swirled it around. As aforementioned, I'm always wet, so the slurping noise I heard was not out of the ordinary. I removed my finger and saw the creamy love juice on my finger. It was a cloudy white color. I'm post-ovulation (I should start my period next week), so it wasn't stretchy. I sniffed. Loved it, as I always do. I just love my natural smell. It wasn't floral or sweet. It almost smelled like fresh bread, as weird as that sounds (I've heard that if your pussy smells like bread, you might have a yeast infection. I don't, but that's interesting.) I looked at it and immediately thought about mayonnaise because of its white-ish color. I won't let mayo go near my lips. I think it's disgusting; I don't even like to be around an open jar of it because it makes me throw up. Despite this, I stuck my finger to my tongue. It was really smooth. I wrapped my lips around my finger and sucked and swallowed. I can't really describe how it tasted. It wasn't quite tangy, but it had a distinctive flavor. It wasn't "gross", but I wouldn't want to eat it on a cracker or anything. I wish I hadn't have thought about mayonnaise prior to trying it, because I feel like I mentally fucked it up before it was even in my mouth. Or, maybe, my pussy juice is an acquired taste. Maybe I don't like it, but some other lucky person will.

My friend says her boyfriend loves the way her pussy tastes, and she tastes herself on his penis when she gives him oral sex after he vaginally penetrates her. I think that's incredibly sweet and intimate. He loves her natural bodily taste. That's a deep connection. I don't think you can get much closer than that.

Maybe every Friday morning, I'll taste myself to see my mucosal/scent changes. I could have a whole color chart and bar graph and everything. Now I'm excited. I'm going to buy new highlighters and shit.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Ow, Son

My boobs are fucking sore. When I was on TEP, they were sore for the majority of the time. I couldn't even sleep on my stomach or walk down stairs. Putting on a bra was a feat that I dreaded everyday. Dammit. Uncool. I'm glad I'm not remotely into nipple play during masturbation. I'd be shit out of luck.

My Orgasm Glossary

I've discovered that I can identify/define my orgasms. I almost have a glossary (I fucking love glossaries, dude) running in my head:

The "Hm..." Orgasm: These happen when I'm trying to get a quickie. I use these to calm myself if I'm nervous or getting ready for an event. Prior to my first pap smear, I masturbated like a fiend (before I left home) so I wouldn't vomit from the sheer terror. When I worked at a grocery store, I would have to have an orgasm prior to leaving the house for my shifts to "level" myself. They helped me focus and have a good attitude. When I have these orgasms, I elicit a quiet "Hm"/sigh and I get up and finish getting ready for whatever I'm about to do.

The "Ahhh" Orgasm: Just a release. Mostly, I get these whenever I'm not aroused prior to touching myself, and I'm trying to achieve something besides just pleasure. These happen most often when I'm having my period or trying to "orgasm myself to sleep". After I come, I emit a short, quivering sigh. I sometimes get emotional after these and feel a little sad. I attribute that to menstrual hormones.

The "Ohhh" Orgasm: These happen most often. I'm almost always in a general state of arousal, so I can just masturbate without reading erotica or watching porn. Fantasy plays a huge part of these orgasms. When I come, my eyes are usually closed and and I say "Ohhhh" in a deep and soft voice.

The "UGHHHH!!!!" Orgasm: These always happen when I'm ovulating. I'm always wet and horny. I'm almost always vocal, gripping the sheets, and locking my legs. My pussy "vibrates" for several minutes after and my labia is almost to sensitive to touch, so I don't go near my clitoris. If I get up and try to walk, my legs are all wiggly and I have to hold on to the walls to guide me. I feel relaxed and calm and content. Almost like a freshly burped baby.

The "HMAHOHUGGHH!!!!" Orgasms: I've only had a few of these in my entire masturbating life. Less than five, probably. The last one I can remember was back in 9th grade. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend and I was starving for an orgasm. I don't know where it came from. The conversation wasn't sexual in the least bit, but as soon as I hung up, I had to come. I put my hands down my pants and I rubbed furiously, coming in record time. I screamed, moaned, sighed, and grunted. I fell asleep immediately after, sweaty, with my heart racing. These are the best orgasms, but they take a lot out me. Almost like a work out... Except work outs suck.

With all of those different kinds of orgasms, I'm sure I've left some out. No two are exactly the same (ugh, how boring would that be?), but I love them all. I always get the orgasm that I feel my body needs. Orgasms are amazing.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

I Just Need to Bitch

See, every time I work out, I remember why I hate working out. I don't like being sweaty and smelling like an ass. Dammit. My fucking ASS CHEEKS are sore (me and a friend both want volleyball player asses. They have the nicest asses I have ever seen. Smackable and muscular). Whoever said feel the burn can eat my ass. I'm going to take a shower and scrub the work out gunk off of me. And then have a hearty and delicious bowl of "weight control" oatmeal. Fuck.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Dodson and Ross are CREEPY!

So, apparently, there are some serious Dodson and Ross haters out there. I mean, hell, that's expected. People opinions differ. But, whoa. Bitches be hatin'. I came across a blog entitled "Feminists with Female Sexual Dysfunction". I don't know who writes it, but I was featured (fucking honored, dude):

"Penetrating Your Vagina for the First Time – [NSFW] I’m posting this with the caveat that Betty Dodson’s blog is, quite frequently, a mess of creepyness and despite its marketing, surprisingly not-feminist sentiment. This one particular post isn’t completely irredeemable, but the rest of the blog has problems, if you ask me.
Take, for example, this hot mess - Strange Sex & Sex Addiction – [NSFW] VirginMonoblogger watched a TLC special called Strange Sex, which talked about four different sexual disorders, including PGAD. (There is a video available on TLC’s website, I think you need to register with TLC’s site to view it.) Now VirginMonoblogger thinks she wants to experience PGAD (Persistent genital arousal disorder, also goes by names like persistent sexual arousal syndrome and restless genital syndrome.) Dude, didn’t we already talk about PGAD over here, twice, at Feminists with FSD a few weeks ago? I left a comment at the Dodson & Ross blog with some informative links will hopefully set the record straight."

Okay, true, I didn't research PGAD any further. I'm not really interested enough to start a fucking term paper. I was going off the idea of "Oh. Hm. Being horny all the time would be cool for a while. Maybe 24 hours, just so I could shut myself in and get off". I wasn't looking at it from a medical standpoint. ::shrugs:: Apparently, turning a medical issue into a fantasy is a crime, yo. My post was a "hot mess". At least it was described as "hot", though. Right on. I don't really see how D&R is creepy. I think it's incredibly sexy/raunchy/educational/interesting and well-rounded. I also think it can appeal to just about every woman. From the prudes to the textbook whores, and everyone in between.

I didn't know there was a such thing as "blog hate", lol. Especially on the feminist front. Shouldn't it be all uplifting and empowering and sexy? Guess not.

On that note, I haven't had an orgasm today. I'll dedicate it to the women at "Feminists with Female Sexual Dysfunction". They seem like they could use a bit more pussy play.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Dyke in Me

I ask myself often: "Are you bisexual?". Is bisexuality like a new food? It sounds good, but you don't know if you like it until you try? Or it is like crack... It's one of those things that you know you'll probably like before you try it? I mean, I don't know of very many people who were like "Yeah, I snorted a few likes of coke. It wasn't my thing".

Lady Gaga turns me on. In the "Video Phone" video, she isn't very attractive. Like, I don't know who the fuck their make up person was, but they fucked her up, but from 2:32 to 4:02, I can't take my eyes off her (and the moaning at the end is amazing, too). She's incredibly sexy. I've loved this freaky bitch since she hit the scene. I love attractive women with some type of talent. She is so fucking weird... And slightly scary. She seems like the bitch to fuck you and then bite your lip until you bleed. There has been a million rumors that LG is a hermaphrodite. People are disturbed and disgusted, but still intrigued. I don't give a FUCK! I'd bone her. So hard. All night. Her possible penis is just a bonus and saves us the time of putting on a strap-on. She's right under Nina Hartley in my mental "Celebrity Bone Book". Glenn Close is number one, of course.

I've never come across a women in real life that I would actually like to have sex with. I mean, I've said "Hm. I bet she's great in bed", about certain chicks, but it's not really lust. That's why I think my desire to fuck women is just a fantasy. I told my friend that I would let Glenn Close treat me like total shit. I would let her smack me around and put me out in the rain, but as soon as she wanted me back, even if she was just going to disrespect me and use me for sex (I'd actually love that), I would be right there. She was so evil and horrible and sexy in "101 Dalmatians".

But, seriously, how do you know if you're bisexual? I'm just horny all the damn time, so I don't discriminate. I like straight porn and lesbian porn. Porn is fantasy, though, so you can't really go off of that. I don't even know if I would know what to do if I were put in a room with a woman that I was sexually attracted to. I would probably cry and fall on the floor into the fetal position (with wet panties, of course). I'm so foreign to anything that has to do with sexual activities with another person, as I've mentioned in this entry. I guess I should have gone off to college. That's when you're supposed to do all of the "exploring", right? I'm missing out.

Some days, I feel like I only want dick. Some days, I think about hardcore tribadism with a chick. Some days I think about having a man and a woman satisfy my sexual appetite. All of this may be confusing for me, but it tells me one thing for sure: I sure as fuck don't belong in a relationship.

Keeping Personal Things Personal

Conversations start so many of my entries. A friend who is married was saying how she would never start a blog about her sex life because it's not for the world to know. She has a blog, but it's all random shit, like most blogs are. I could never get into that. I have started a million blogs, but after about five or six entries, I don't write anymore. Why? Because I fucking bore myself to death.

I like to write about things worth reading. My writing is my entertainment. I started this blog to get the sexual stuff out of me. There aren't very many sexual blogs I've come across, and all of the ones I've seen are about fantasy or are made up or don't cover all of the things I would like to read about. I want to read about a real person with real feelings and real experiences. I wanted every sordid detail. Since I never found one that covered all of the bases, I just decided to start my own. Clearly, people like reading this shit, but they don't want to talk about it. Well, why the hell not?

Why isn't it okay to talk about sex? I've always wondered that. It's "personal" information, right? Isn't everything about you "personal"? Hey, I just sneezed. Isn't that personal? I think it stems from shame. I don't understand what there is to be ashamed of. We may not all be from the same place, we may not have the same interests, but we all get horny. Sex is a pretty common ground when it comes to relating to one another. People likely fear judgment. I thought about that when I started writing. That was part of the reason why I included things about God and beliefs in the earlier entries. Then, I came to the realization: Why am I lying to myself? I'm not this quiet little church-going Christian girl who never has an impure thought. I'm a dirty whore on the inside and I want to get it out, even if it's just in textual form. If people don't care to read it, then the disclaimer and the blog description will be enough of a deterrent.

I guess I just wish people were more open and free, but if they aren't comfortable being that way, then it's okay. I don't mind being an open book for the silent ones. I used to be one of them.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The HerStory of Sexuality

Age 4: I remember, VERY vividly, being in preschool and laying on a cot during nap time. My hand would automatically go in my pants as soon as the lights went off, touching myself until I fell asleep for the hour. One day, though, I remember looking over, and one of my classmates was smiling and pulled his pants down in the font, exposing his penis. I was SHOCKED! I had never seen one of those before... So, of course, I pull his cot right next to mine and threw my blanket over both of us. I kept asking him to show it to me, and he eagerly obliged. I don't remember ever getting caught... And I don't remember what happened after that. I don't remember his name. I don't remember any other interactions we had, but I still have a clear picture of his face and smile in my head. He had missing teeth on top and bottom.

Age 8: When I was in third grade, I would make up sex stories about my parents and tell them to my female friends on the playground everyday. It was an on-going saga. I cringe just thinking about the ridiculous bullshit I would say, but they were so intrigued. I could fabricate the smallest exchange between my parents (a hug or a kiss on the cheek) into this long night of wild passion. I would describe their body parts in great detail (I even drew pictures), when, in reality, I had NO idea what a penis or adult vagina looked like. Not too long ago, I found out that just about every person has seen both parents naked. As I type this, I have never seen my daddy's genitalia. I'm not terribly torn up over that, and I'd rather keep it that way, but I was just shocked at how common it is to see your parents naked.

Age 9: My general flexibility and hyperactivity told my parents I should be in something active, so they put me in gymnastics. I hated it. A gym full of girls that smell like the inside of an ass, because they were all convinced they were dainty enough to use "Teen Spirit" deodorant and still be fresh. One of my instructors, Scott, would help me up on the bar. I would fall right back down, and one time, his hand accidentally touched my crotch. He yanked it away and turned red, and I pretended nothing happened. I secretly loved it and tried to fall down that exact same way over and over, hoping it would happen again. It didn't.

Age 11: In middle school, I started a summer day camp. We went swimming everyday, and there was a guy who would go under the water, tap me on the foot, and I would duck under to see his trunks around his lower hips with his penis bobbing under the water. I would reach out to touch it, but he would push my hand away and swim in the opposite direction. To be fair, I would pull one arm out of my bathing suit and show him my little breast bud. I found out later (from an older friend who was a lifeguard) that the radiant Georgia sun would make the pool's surface so transparent, my dark little areola was easily seen from above.

Age 12: I started my period. I also discovered the pussy juice that was in my panties at the end of the day made for optimum masturbatory pleasure. This was the age that I had my very first orgasm.

Age 14: By ninth grade, I was obsessed with breaking my hymen. I didn't want sex to hurt. I was convinced that it would be unbearable pain and extremely bloody. I knew I was getting married as soon as I finished high school, and I wanted it too feel good and I didn't want to upset my husband. I would sit on my foot in class and grind my crotch on it until it hurt, hoping I would hear a "POP!" that let me know that my cherry was gone. I found out later that there was no "popping" involved, so all of my foot riding was in vain.

Age 17: In 12th grade, I had relayed my art of squirting to my male friends, who all begged me for a video. I sent one. A video of a close up of me fingering myself. I got a video of my friend masturbating and ejaculating in return, but I regretted it to the point of laying awake at night, scared to go to bed because I thought I would die in my sleep and go to hell, before I could to church on Sunday and repent. I felt like God hated me for about six month after the incident. I stopped masturbating, stopped sending sexual text messages, and I stopped fantasizing. Life was horrible during that time.

Now, age 19: I'll be 20 this year, right smack in the middle of May. I've never had a serious boyfriend. I've never been deeply kissed. I've never been told "I love you" romantically. I've never had sex. None of that bothers me. For every "I never" that I can list, I can list at least three "I have's" or "I can's" or "I do's". I can pleasure myself and (temporarily) satiate my sexual desire. I have a great understanding of who I am. And, despite every stretch mark, every pimple, and every imperfection, I do accept myself. Completely.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Big Pile of Suck

Yes. I'm aware this background is so painfully suckish. I'm trying to find a new one since the last one I had crapped out on me.

Also, with this template, you can't post comments. ::screams:: I am so frustrated. Bear with me.

Final Update: This shit is finally fixed. I don't have a photographic memory (unless I see some nakedness...), but I think it looks how it did before. :D

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Hey, Stranger. Wanna Fuck Me?


I've notice that I likely watch the same amount of porn as a teenage boy. Okay, maybe not that much, but likely more than the average woman. I'm cool with that. If I'm not going to have any dick in me, I guess I can partake in the joy of it being thrust in someone else.

I discovered something new and incredibly hot today. Two words: Glory hole. Sucking and fucking a random dick and feeling the semen of a stranger fill every penetrable orifice of my body... So fucking hot and raunchy. Yes, the threat for STIs is ever-present, but I'm almost willing to risk my sexual health just for the filthy thrill of it. I have always had the fantasy of walking in a mall or some public place, grabbing some random guy, giving him oral, and it eventually progressing into hardcore sex in a candy store with me knocking shit off the shelves and laying in a pile of gummy bears.

It never occurred to me that people would want to fuck with anonymity, but I can see why the idea would catch on. Seeing a hand of a horny stranger come through a hole and completely violate my body is so incredibly sexy. I'm at your disposal. A sex servant that's only obtainable through a roughly cut hole in the wall. No commitment and no emotions. Just fuck me and leave. Dream come true.

I don't know how trusting I would be if I were the guy, though. What if I got some psycho bitch on the other side that hated men and had a sharp pair of hedge clippers? Fuck no.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Ms. Pretty Pussy

I watched a video about how women feel about their vulva and undergoing labioplasty and such. I'm pissed the fuck off. There was so much negativity and disconnection. I have NEVER given much thought to how my vulva looks... At all. Why? Because it's completely irrelevant to me. I may sometimes be self conscious about my thighs and my tummy and my arms, but my pussy? Never. I can't say it's because I'm necessarily "proud" of it, but it's just one of those things that you just can't change. No amount of exercise, toning, healthy dieting, or supplements will make my pussy look any different. Why don't I just love it for what the fuck it is?

I was talking to a friend about her inner labia as I was watching the video, and I was telling her how mine are very small. Tiny and purplish. They're almost hidden. She called me a "lucky ducky", because she has longer inner labia and sometimes they stick to places and it makes her uncomfortable. I told her "Aw, I wish I had longer inner labia. Mine is so plain." Then, I thought: What is a "plain" pussy? What makes one interesting? They all look different.

I very much have a "textbook" pussy. Nothing special. I don't have dangly lips or a big clit or anything that would be considered abnormal or unique. But it's MINE. No one has one just like mine (well, I think I can safely assume that). That's just what I don't understand. Models embrace their masculine jaws and big noses because it sets them apart, right? Why don't we just accept our pussies for what they are? Why would we choose our GENITALS to look "normal" and identical to someone else's? They aren't fucking decorations. My pussy gives me pleasure and comfort. I would never think to risk that by getting surgery and fucking it up.

When did we decide who dictates what a PUSSY should look like? Did I miss the damn memo? Apparently, we're supposed to try to emulate what a porn star's snatch looks like? No thank you. I don't have any plans to do porn and the only person who will see my goods in the near future is my gynecologist. I don't think she minds how it looks. Is this just another "contest" for women to take part in? Thinner is always better, right? So, I guess the more "normal" your pussy looks, the more attractive it is?

I guess I just don't understand. I can't identify. I accept and embrace my genitals. What other choice do I have? Live a life of hatred and forlornness? I'll pass. I wonder if women never looked at other genitals and if we all had one sex partner for life, if there would still be as many problems as there are. We wouldn't have anything to compare ourselves to, so would we just consider ourselves normal?

I don't know. I guess I'm lucky to love myself for what I am and what I have. My time is better spend focusing on something constructive, rather than feeling sorry for my sad little pussy. I love that I'm a woman. I'm not going to change the anomalous piece of work that sets me apart.