Category Archives: Sex

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.

Bareback Generation

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I’ve noticed that there are men who are loathe to wear a condom, even when they’re simply hooking up with a partner for the night.

It’s a little bit shocking, to say the least.

What ever happened to safe sex and the older generation?

Quite honestly, I worry more about unintended pregnancy than I do about STDs which is probably bad, but I am still smart enough to at least suggest a condom.

Remember that one time I was stealthed?

Yeah, the guy took the condom from me then DIDN’T PUT IT ON and instead PULLED OUT AT THE EXACT WORST MOMENT SO THAT HE COULD COME ALL OVER MY BACK, thereby notifying me that I’d been duped into having sex without a condom?

Yeah, that’s a little bit what I’m talking about.

Of course, that behavior borderlines on criminal, I think.

So let’s set it aside for a minute.

What about the casual guy who just simply doesn’t like condoms?

The guy who isn’t worried about pregnancy (because maybe he is shooting blanks)?

I think it’s a generational thing.

Younger men don’t question condoms. They use them by the cartloads. They know – NO BABIES AND NO STDs.

Now, part of me think perhaps it’s not just that bareback sex FEELS better.

No.

Perhaps it’s because of “challenges in the plumbing department.”

What diminishes the sensation also can diminish. . . well, the “device.”

And Lord knows no one wants that to happen.

Then the fun is OVER.

For me, barebacking is for the guy who is a boyfriend. It’s for the guy I’m willing to go on birth control for.

It’s not for the casual hookup.

And it’s certainly not for the guy with criminal tendencies who is willing to TRICK me into doing it.

Call me crazy, but if I get a little skin on skin action, it’s gonna be with someone who I think has some sort of role in my life, when there’s birth control in place, and appropriate STD testing.

That’s just how I roll.

This kiss

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My first kiss was with Don, at a high school dance my freshman year, out on the dance floor.

He went in for a kiss then slipped me the tongue and I was like, “WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS?!”

It shocked me and surprised me.

I was not expecting a kiss.

My fist REAL kiss I got from my ex-boyfriend in high school.

He leaned me up against his mustang and kissed me until my knees melted and he had to prop me up against his car.

It was THAT good.

That kiss has set the bar for kissing for most of my adult life.

Until recently.

I was sitting in a hot tub at my friends’ house when it happened.

A woman planted a kiss on me that made me TOTALLY RETHINK HOW I KISS.

It was wild.

Crazy.

Soft yet demanding.

Filled with passion.

I decided right then and there that this kiss was going to change how I kiss men in the future.

Now, I emulate that kiss over and over again when I’m making out with somebody.

I’m 44 years old, I have two kids, and I’m still learning the nuances of passion.

Long live lifelong learning!

Retired

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If you thought that stinky feet were the only fetish I didn’t understand, you’d be wrong.

There are several which make no sense to me.

One of them is anal sex.

Honestly, unless you’re fresh from the shower and a few enemas, it’s really not all that appealing, is it?

Lately I’ve run into a smattering of men who are really interested in it.

And you know, I believe that unless I fall in love with a man who absolutely adores it, I don’t feel any strong pull to go ahead and participate in it.

I never say never, because I’ve had to eat my words too many times after saying that.

So there’s always the possibility that I might participate in it.

But really, all it reminds me of is needing to take an enormous poop.

I know some people love it.

And I can see the appeal.

Psychologically, it’s definitely “topping” someone when you “tap that ass.”

Truthfully, I don’t think I’d even worry about anyone asking me to have anal sex except for the fact that I’m single and we live in a world which is saturated in pornography.

So it’s in the minds of single men everywhere that they can ask for this and expect to get it.

Not here.

Not me.

I’m retired.

But this is a dilemma that I think many women face now.

Do you give in and make him happy despite your discomfort?

Or do you stand your ground and reject his attempts?

Consider this: there is a perfectly designed, warm, welcoming, self-lubricating, textured-for-both-your-pleasure chamber in which to place your sorcerer’s sword.

And you want to do what?

The vibrator to end them all

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You can take the girl out of Catholic school but you can’t take the Catholic school out of the girl.

Or something like that.

At unSCruz, there was one itty bitty contraption that mesmerized me.

A standing vibrator.

Yes, you heard me right – A STANDING VIBRATOR.

Just along the side of the walkway, as I live and breathe.

I went in to get a closer look.

There was a fully clothed woman on it, and she and an “operator” were fine-tuning the vibrations.

It was wild to see it.

Now, I’ve heard about this vibrator before.

It has something of a reputation you see.

Apparently, it massages EVERYTHING.

And, given enough time, will result in an extraordinary climax.

Half of me wanted to try it.

Simply so I could report back and let you know what I thought of it.

But truthfully, it was always being used, so I never got a chance to ride it.

It was quite popular!

The other half of me thought, “Shouldn’t this be in a tent or something?”

It’s the Catholic girl in me who was shy about having a screaming orgasm where everyone could see.

Nevertheless, if I find it on playa I will have to test it out. . . because I’m curious like that.

Despite my Catholic sensibilities.