Category Archives: Sex

Nope

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It’s not what you’re thinking.

I’m not going to tell another story about some guy’s tacky advances on Tinder.

No.

Or mention again that I got ghosted by the last guy I dated.

Instead I’m going to share with you that I got a little action last weekend.

Indeed.

It’s been months since that happened and I was happy to break my abstinence streak, or so I thought.

Turns out, when you haven’t done the deed for a while, things down there aren’t as robust as they normally are.

And vigorous activity can lead to some discomfort.

I spent the night at a friend’s house.

I’m not one to turn down ANOTHER romp in the hay but let me tell you, it is possible to DO IT TOO MUCH.

And then you have to stop.

Briefly, I thought, “Well, MAYBE I can sneak in another session without my nethers screaming too loudly at me that it hurts. . . “

But no, I must inform you that there are times in a woman’s life when her vagina must exert dominance over her libido with a loud and resounding, “NOPE!”

The pickle pouch

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5681db484a9d8b0c63101aa9877d1722I have a love-hate relationship with condoms.

On the one hand I love what they do – prevent unintended pregnancy and the transmission of nasty old STDs.

On the other hand I hate for they feel – like I’m trying to pick up a dime with rubber gloves on.  There’s not much sensation.

But recently, I read MyLifeOnMatchAndMore’s enthusiastic blog post on “For the Love of Lube” and I couldn’t help but follow her link to Lucky Bloke, who sells variety packs of condoms and lube.

(Incidentally lube (Gun Oil) is something I have ALWAYS loved)

It started me thinking.  Maybe the next generation of condoms are superior to the ones I’m used to.  Maybe, just maybe I can learn to love condoms again.

Lucky Bloke has several awesome variety packs available:

  1. Non latex – For the sensitive among us.
  2. Smaller fit – For those challenged in the cock department (just remember size doesn’t matter?).
  3. Standard – For the average man.
  4. Mixed sizes – When you don’t know what size you are.
  5. Japanese Ultra thin – The very best in ultra thin.
  6. Flavored – Really?  Why?  Nevermind.
  7. Ultra thin – Ultra thin.  ‘Nuff said.
  8. Pleasure shaped – Condoms aren’t just ribbed anymore.
  9. Textured – like wearing an argyle sweater on your cock.

Maybe I can learn to love condoms a little more and hate them a little less.

 

30 years of f*cking

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It’s officially been 30 years since I became sexually active.

I know this because I remember the date I lost my virginity.

It was July 8, 1989.

I was fifteen years old.

The only reason I didn’t lose it sooner is that the guy I picked to give my virginity to wound up backing out at the last minute.

I guess he was a big virgin too.

I’m not crazy about remembering dates to things like this.

It’s just that 7-8-89 is an easy date to remember.

It seems that now would be as good a time as any to review my sex life and make some changes, if needed.

Clearly, I have no sex life to speak of and so I’d like to change that.

However, I think I’ve made some good decisions lately about who to share that slice of myself with and who to abstain from sharing it with.

So I give myself points for that.

And, of course, no analysis of my sex life would be complete without acknowledging that there have been some MAJOR changes in my sex life, namely because I’m dating the new guy, but also because I’ve had a health scare or two.

Sure, there’s no one to speak of right now who I’m sharing intimacies with, but that’s likely going to change and I give myself bonus points for actually taking the time to get to know somebody as well as for creating a little empty space for someone new to enter the picture.

It was getting CROWDED.

Kidding!

The pickle pouch

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5681db484a9d8b0c63101aa9877d1722I have a love-hate relationship with condoms.

On the one hand I love what they do – prevent unintended pregnancy and the transmission of nasty old STDs.

On the other hand I hate for they feel – like I’m trying to pick up a dime with rubber gloves on.  There’s not much sensation.

But recently, I read MyLifeOnMatchAndMore’s enthusiastic blog post on “For the Love of Lube” and I couldn’t help but follow her link to Lucky Bloke, who sells variety packs of condoms and lube.

(Incidentally lube (Gun Oil) is something I have ALWAYS loved)

It started me thinking.  Maybe the next generation of condoms are superior to the ones I’m used to.  Maybe, just maybe I can learn to love condoms again.

Lucky Bloke has several awesome variety packs available:

  1. Non latex – For the sensitive among us.
  2. Smaller fit – For those challenged in the cock department (just remember size doesn’t matter?).
  3. Standard – For the average man.
  4. Mixed sizes – When you don’t know what size you are.
  5. Japanese Ultra thin – The very best in ultra thin.
  6. Flavored – Really?  Why?  Nevermind.
  7. Ultra thin – Ultra thin.  ‘Nuff said.
  8. Pleasure shaped – Condoms aren’t just ribbed anymore.
  9. Textured – like wearing an argyle sweater on your cock.

Maybe I can learn to love condoms a little more and hate them a little less.

 

Mommy

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Once upon a time, I dated a guy with a fetish.

Now, there are lots of fetishes out there.

Leather fetish.

Foot fetish.

Latex fetish.

Shoe fetish.

And my personal favorite:  black vinyl fetish.

But I’ve never come across anyone with an infant fetish.

Lactation.

Talking like a baby.

The whole shebang.

I’m not adverse to catering to someone’s fetish.

After all, I too have certain things that I like.

But believe me, I had an interesting time catering to this guy’s fetish.

It’s definitely NOT MY THING and all I can say about it is this:

For anyone who actually IS a mom, being called “Mommy” brings back memories of my two young kids and all the work it took me to raise them into the lovely human beings they are now.

I’m not sure that’s the association I need in order to effectively carry out his fantasy.

Also, and I’m just putting this out there, I don’t really want to be REMINDED of babies and young kids while I’m getting some action.

It seems inappropriate to the nth degree.

So I went ahead and role played but in the end, I think I can safely say that this is a fetish I do not possess and will not partake of in the future.

I’m a mom to two wonderful teenagers, not a mommy to a grown man.

Pleasure Party

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After working a 12 hour day, I decided to take a detour on my way home and stop by my friend Melissa’s Pleasure Party.

It was a treat to hang out with an eclectic bunch of women fascinated by a discussion of all things pleasurable.

Our pleasure consultant was knowledgeable, skilled, and funny which is a prerequisite if you’re going to give a sex talk.

Much humor is needed.

Also needed are jello shots…

Our consultant had a whole table of toys including Lelo, bullets, oils, massage creams, candles, vibrators, dildos, and more.

My favorite part of the evening was when the consultant demonstrated how a little sleeve called Mimi could make giving a blow job that much easier.

All in all, a great time was had by everyone.  And I got to see my girl crush.

That was worth the price of admission.

So what did I buy?

Lotions, potions, and things that go BUZZ in the night.

Happy girl!

Sex Magic

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So there’s a group called Sex Magic and I’m intrigued by them. According to their website they are about meditation, intimacy, self-exploration, sexuality, dating and relationships and ritual. That’s quite a load of topics to keep you busy.

They’ve hosted several meetings so far – including one on dating as a spiritual practice, one on conscious sensuality and a wildly popular one on female ejaculation and prostate massage.

Let me repeat that.

One on female ejaculation and prostate massage.

Now these are not two of my favorite topics, but I’m INSANELY curious about them. So curious, I would have attended the meeting, had I only known about it.

You might think this sounds a little hokey. And you may be right. But these meeting quite frequently have licensed psychotherapists and relationship coaches as part of the presentation and discussion.  The entire group is organized by a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist.

Their next meeting is in February.

It’s called “Sex, Magic and Erotic Influence” and I’m going. Quite honestly, they had me at “sex”.

The seminar seeks to answer the questions:

What kind of erotic presence do you hold? 
What is the range and depth of you sexual embodiment?
What can you call forth from your lover?
What are your edges and how do they hold you back from expressing and enjoying your full erotic potential? 

Well, the last question is the kicker for me. Because if you were to ask me if I’m enjoying my full erotic potential, the answer would be “NOT AT ALL.”

Despite all the experiments I test out. Despite the OMing. And despite the blogging.

I can’t shake the feeling like there somehow should be more.

Like say a boyfriend?

Yeah, that might do it… getting a boyfriend.

Can Sex Magic help me with that?

Birthday Sex

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I had my first SLS date last night.

How did it go?

In a word?

Awesome!

He was clever, witty, engaging and funny.

He laughed at my jokes.

I felt an instant connection to him.

He was real, unlike some of the Match or POF dates I’ve had, who prattle on and on about their jobs, their income, their investment portfolios, and their cars while saying ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about who they are as a person.

Sitting across from me last night was an authentic man, available for fun and enjoyment.

And I really liked that.

I had such a good time, I hope I get to see him again soon.

And since his birthday is on Tuesday. . .

. . .we might set up a “birthday” date.

Something fun, wet, and wild!

You know me, I can NEVER pass up an opportunity to celebrate someone’s birthday!

And this gives me the opportunity to spend more time with him and get to know him better.

Win – win!

 

Coke jokes

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I might have let it slip among my friends at the Bare Burn that I nicknamed my friend “Coke Can Dan.”

I might have said, “I call him Coke Can Dan” but his real name is John so you better not call him Dan.

And they were good about it.

They never called him Dan.

But there we were at the Bare Burn, and literally all my friends were making Coke jokes.

Honestly, it didn’t bother Coke Can Dan.

He’s used to be heralded at parties and the like by women, much like myself, who can’t seem to keep their mouth shut about getting STUFFED!

Sometimes I wonder what it must be like, to have an appendage so big it needs its own zip code.

When lubrication isn’t a suggestion but a NECESSITY.

I joked with Coke Can Dan and told him that my lady parts could comfortably accommodate something half the size of his parts.

And in a way, that’s true.

When it comes to sparkling beverages, I’m more of a Red Bull kind of gal than a Coke Can kind of gal.

Of course, I’m being converted.

You all may get a giggle out of this post and wonder, silently, if I’m walking all right or if I have to step gingerly.

The answer is I can walk just fine, but I’d probably benefit from sitting on an ice pack.