Powered by orgasm

pboI’m going through airport security. Unbeknownst to me, I have a highly hazardous can of hairspray in my purse.

It is larger than 3.4 oz.

Shocking, I know.

I get pulled aside to have my bag searched by a very serious, very sour faced TSA lady.

She starts reciting the rules as she’s searching through my bag with gloves and a metal wand.

“Do you know you can’t bring any aerosols or liquids larger than 3.4 oz in your carry on luggage?” she asks.

“Yes,” I nod.

I’m watching as she picks her way around my BLACK LACY THONG PANTIES… because when you OM, you never know when you’ll need a fresh pair. So I’ve taken to carrying an extra pair with me.

My TSA lady arches a brow at me but says nothing.  Disapproval is emanating from every cell of her body.

But beyond the underwear, I spot A JAR OF ONE STROKE LUBE – the lube of choice for OMers.

I flush from my head to my freshly manicured toes.

Is she going to ask? Is she going to open the jar? Will it be confiscated?

Please don’t let it be confiscated!

I start panicking when I think about losing my jar of lube.

She finds the offending can of hairspray and removes it. I indicate she can just throw it away.

As I walk away I feel slightly buoyant and giddy…

….thinking all that was missing was a dildo in my bag and a “Powered by Orgasm” t-shirt on me.

I would have liked to have seen the look on her face then.

Blowing off Toby Keith…. again

When I was 22 and fresh out of college with a BS in Biology and WAY TOO MUCH EGO FOR MY OWN GOOD, I went to the local country western bar to have some fun.  This may or may nor have involved drinking tequila in the barber’s chair and smoking Marlboro Lights.

Cringe.

I was wearing a little navy blue sundress with spaghetti straps and brown boots.  I was looking for fun, or so I thought.

Toby Keith, an up-and-coming country music star, was performing there that night.  During his performance, he would point at me and I glowed under his attention.  Nothing better than a soon-to-be-megawatt country star pointing his finger at you.

After the show, one of the roadies came up to me and asked me if I’d like to join Toby Keith on his bus./

OMG!  Toby Keith wants to socialize with me… but why?  He doesn’t know me.  I could be terrible company.  He’s only interested in me for my looks.  Damn!  I’m so tired of being valued for my looks only.  I have a brain.  A degree in biology. Respect that!

And with that I gave the roadie a scathing, “I’m busy” and left with my dignity intact.  Until Toby Keith blew up the airwaves with his songs.  Then I wished I had a different story to tell… the “I boinked Toby Keith on his tour bus” story.

Fast forward 18 years.  Toby is older.  I am older.  And I have 2 tickets to see him at the Reno Events Center.

My sister and I are standing in her driveway waiting for a taxi to pick us up and take us to the concert.

I turn to her and say, “I don’t really feel like going. do you?”

And with that, I blew off Toby Keith A SECOND TIME.

Sexual Bucket List

Check out this sexual bucket list 50 Things to Try Sexually Before You Die.  The idea of having a sexual bucket list intrigues me It’s something I talked about with Austin, right before we checked something fun off my sexual bucket list. I’m no novice when it comes to experimenting in bed. I have a tame pre-marriage history but a wild history post-divorce. Turns out, I’ve tried almost everything on the list. So to save you time, I’ve pared down the list down to what’s worth it and what’s not.

Use a vibrator – Um, there are still people who don’t own one? Women! Get on the vibrator bus — if you’re not comfortable taking care of business alone (gasp), involve your partner. No straight man would say no to that kind of show.

Have sex in a car – Car sex can get a bit crowded, if not positioned properly. Recline that seat. If you’re self-conscious, pull into the garage and do it there.

Be tied up and tie someone up – Don’t be a sissy when it comes to getting tied. Tie like you want it to last. A blindfold can help calm nerves. Trust me. For more advanced moves, tie your partner down or let your partner tie you down. Hot. Sexy.

Read erotica – 50 Shades of Gray is crap. Read The Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by Ann Rice..

The mile-high club – Airline bathrooms don’t make me feel sexy. Unless it’s a private jet. I just don’t get this one.

Play strip war (the card game) – Strip war is for people who value their time and don’t have all night to get naked. Strip war gets the job done in a fraction of the time.

Learn to give yourself multiple orgasms – I’ve never been a multiple kind of woman. I’m perfectly happy getting quality over quantity. But knowing that there are women who are completely and physically able to orgasm multiple times, I’m willing to try to teach my body how to pop off 4 or 5 in a session.

Sex in the shower/standing up against a wall – The only man who ever successfully screwed me up against a wall was my ex Steve, who has a 56 inch chest. Showers can by fun, just keeps your wits about you since they are not just hot but slippery as well.

Sex on the beach… – Sand in your folds? Duh.

Whipped Cream – If you want to smell like cow farts, use real dairy whipped cream. It also turns into a puddle when it come in contact with body heat. I suggest Pixi Stix as a delicious and non-puddling alternative? It may still be sticky but at least it’s not stinky.

La Perla lingerie sex – If I spend $200 for lingerie, you’re not taking it off my body. All you can do is stare at me until your eyeballs fall out because let me reiterate: $200 for fancy knickers!

Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie sex – Frederick’s is the slutty little sister to La Perla. I think we can all agree that if we put both lingerie options side by side, most people would choose the $14 crotchless panty sex over the $200 please-don’t-rip-the-fabric sex.

Feather Ticklers – QUICK, LOCK THE CAT OUT OF THE BEDROOM. Ouch.

Bad Boys

I love bad boys, just ask my ex Steve.

A wicked smart, leather wearing , motorcycle riding, cocky criminal defense attorney from Modesto, he embodied to me everything that I found exciting:

  • Confidence
  • Adventurous
  • Challenging
  • Mysterious

He made me feel like a powerful woman and he knew how to talk to me.

Plus he was a rock star in the bedroom and looked great in a kilt.

Why is it that the best chemistry seems to exist between myself and a “bad boy”?

Bad boys are challenging. They’re forbidden. We know it’s not going to end well, but we want that ride. The thrill of it all is worth the price we’ll pay.

And perhaps we think we’re woman enough to change him just a little bit. Tame him.

It’s a delusion, of course.

Because what makes a bad boy a bad boy is that they’re untameable. They’re wild. And that’s half the reason why we like them so much.

So why don’t women go for good guys? Why is calling someone a “nice guy” a backhanded insult?

Maybe it has something to do with nice guys not possessing that faux sense of masculinity that women seem to gravitate towards. Perhaps they radiate a doormat mentality that women don’t find sexy. They’re too predictable? They have low self-esteem? All sorts of reasons come into play here. But the real reason may be genetics. Women are designed to procreate with the strongest possible genes. Bad boys send an unconscious message that they have great genes whereas nice guys send a message that they’re not as confident in their genes.

Regardless of the causes, I will say this… though sex with a bad boy was off the chart, the best relationship and sex of my life was with a really nice guy.

Although he was a cage fighter….

Hall Pass

Hall passes.

These aren’t the traditional hallway passes we know from middle school.

No, these are the hall passes that give you a night, a weekend, or a week off from your relationship to play with whomever you want.

And in the world of open relationships/swingers, it means a pass to play by yourself, without your partner there to participate.

In the 2011 movie, Hall Pass, by the Farrelly brothers, Owen Wilson and Jason Sudeikis are unhappy with their lives, so their frustrated wives give them a guilt-free week to party like single men. They’re authorized to bang anyone if they can pull it off. Sound like entrapment? They might as well answer their wives when they’re asked if they look fat. But that’s how the movie goes and, like any predictable comedy, they learn the error of their ways and learn to appreciate their marriages. Of course, in the real world, a story like that can only end in UFC-style beatings, dismemberment, and the splitting of assets.

Psychology Today calls hall passes “bad sex advice.” As Jeremy Clayman, Psy.D. puts it, “It’s like kryptonite for couples. Don’t do it. There isn’t a single situation or dynamic for whom I could imagine this working successfully.”

Personally, the idea of a hall pass doesn’t bother me, so long as it’s done in a healthy relationship and not one that’s suffering from lack of intimacy or sex. It’s not a band aid for what’s ailing you, it’s a vitamin to keep you healthy- not necessary but can be have a great placebo effect. I know quite a few couples who believe in hall passes and use them regularly. None of them have split or broken up from separate play.

I knew a couple who always agreed to connect with each other after they played with other people. No matter what, they would get together that night and share stories, reconnect with each other.

I knew another couple for whom hall passes were the norm. They played separate and they didn’t always reconnect afterwards. And they did just fine as well.

But I can also see how a hall pass could be a tricky, dangerous addition to a relationship. One partner might not be really prepared for the other to play around with others. Maybe they both overestimated their comfort with the idea of a hall pass.

Either way, it could blow up in your face and hurt a lot of people.

So as my friend Jack puts it (Mr. Swinger), his best advice to people considering hall passes is “Ensure BOTH partners are in the loop. Communication. Communication. Communication.”

That and a Hail Mary!

Orgasm problems for women

When you say “Don’t stop” but he still changes what he’s doing. I said, “Don’t stop,” which literally means do exactly what you’re doing!

When you have to casually shift your body so he’s in the right spot. “Oh, I’m just moving, just getting to a place that feels good to me.”

When you lose it. “I was so close! And no, I don’t know what happened!”

When you picture someone you hate. Look, for whatever reason, that’s going to get me there faster. Do not speak of this again.

When you start picturing one of his friends. It’s so wrong! And you’re not even into the friend. Not really…

When you say the “It’s fine, it’s totally fine” monologue. “Oh, no, it was so good for a while there. You were really … doing a lot. It’s just me …”

When he thinks he’s killing it but he’s in the wrong spot. Yeah, that part of my thigh doesn’t need to be humped, thanks.

When you have a leg cramp but don’t want to move because it might ruin the moment. So you just hope your leg numbs entirely because who cares really?

When you’re done and he wants to cuddle and you want to sleep. This happens all the time – I have an orgasm and immediately want a cuddle-free nap.

When his dirty talk does the opposite of turn you on. “I guess we should have talked about this before, but calling me ‘mommy’ just made me dry up.”

When he’s really into a weird position and you are not. Who liked this position???

When you finally orgasm but it’s, like, blah. Blue balls can suck it. This feeling is the actual worse.

When he thinks just because he came sex is over. Nice try. Keep going.

When part of you wants him to leave so you can masturbate. That is a sad but awesome feeling.

When he’s jackhammering away and you’re trying to slow him down and it’s not working. And you have to gently remind him he doesn’t really even need a rhythm to get off but you definitely do.

When you actually break down and fake it. Men seem to think that women fake it to deceive them. No. Faking it is our way of making you stop doing whatever you were doing. Similarly: Never fake it. Tell him what you need and if he doesn’t do it, he’s probably not right for you. You’re worth the effort for a damn good orgasm!

Hot, hot, hot!

The thing about glass blowing is that it’s REALLY hot.  Of course, all of us know this going into it but when you’re actually there, experiencing the heat, it’s like nothing you’ve felt before…. kinda like how you imagine walking on the sun would feel.

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The next think you need to know about glass blowing is that it’s very sweaty.  Rivers of sweat were running down my face and back.  I was a hot mess.  LITERALLY.

So I arrived at my glass glowing class to discover Ryan, my huge, hairy, hunky teacher there.  Boy did I have fun learning from him.  He demonstrated the process one time and then took each of the students one by one and helped us make a bowl.

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 The process is a little like this:
  • Blow a glass bubble through a wand.
  • Add color.
  • Blow a bigger glass bubble.
  • Add even more color.
  • Blow an even bigger glass bubble.
  • Pinch the neck of the bubble.
  • Add a base to the bubble.
  • Flatten the base.
  • Transfer the bubble/base to another wand.
  • Heat the bubble.
  • Open up the bubble to make a bowl.
  • Heat the bowl.
  • Swing it around to make swirly edges.
  • Knock the wand off it, heat the base and stamp it.
  • Let it cool.
That was basically the process which took about 15 minutes to complete.
And here are the photos from my glass blowing experience.  Hope you enjoy!
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The Porno*

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She and her girlfriend left their toys in the trunk of my car the night before.

Feeling guilty of depriving them of their lovely new vibrators and paddles, I decided to drop them off on my way home.

I came inside for just a few minutes, or so I thought.

Her boyfriend showed up and before I know it, a porno was unfolding before my eyes and I WAS IN IT.

Seriously, I could not make this shit up.

Pretty fucking amazing.

 

*I may or may not be lying about half of what I just said. Then again, I could be telling the truth.