Dick pics

You know how I go on and on about receiving unsolicited dick pics on this blog?

Well, the irony is that despite how much I complain, I SAVE all those photos.

Yes, I do.

I have an app on my phone which lets me password protect all my naughty photos.

I have 1,653 photos saved.

All the dick pics are organized into folders named after each man who sent them.

The other day, I was texting with a very nice Fireman when all of a sudden, a dick pic popped up on my screen.

An unsolicited dick pic, I might add.

HOWEVER, I must say that it was literally THE BIGGEST DICK I’D EVER SEEN.

Maybe it was the angle.

Maybe he used a telephoto lens.

But it was MASSIVE!

So I did what any woman would do. . .

. . .I giggled.

Then I hit “SAVE.”

No HARD Feelings

I’ll never forget my first experience with “whiskey dick.”

I was a freshman at UCSB and my girlfriends and I were discussing impotence over dinner in the cafeteria.

I announced that it had never happened to me and then I FORGOT TO KNOCK ON WOOD.

That night, I hooked up with my usual lover after a night of drinking only to discover that HE COULDN’T GET IT UP.

Murphy’s Law strikes again!

In the years since college, my experiences with impotence have been few and far between.

The Hunk had problems.

But given that he saw fit to solve his problem by surreptitiously slipping off the condom, I have no sympathy for him.

There have been a few other men I have come across who have had this problem.

I don’t really understand why they’re not knocking on every doctor’s door, trying to get the problem fixed.

I’d be up, bright spanking early, waiting for the doctor to arrive so I could discuss a remedy for my problem, if I were an impotent man.

I once dated a man who was a staff member of a prominent college football team.

He had HUGE problems getting it up.

He preferred to get and give oral sex.

Now, I don’t know about you, but for me oral sex is a nice appetizer but it’s not the main course.

I might have been SLIGHTLY impatient for him to get everything working properly.

Hey! I’m a Scorpio.

I don’t like it when my sex life is interrupted.

Besides disrupting your sex life, the other thing about impotence is that it can be an indication of larger health problems.

So men really should get checked out by a doctor.

Now, you might be wondering why I bring this up.

Has it happened AGAIN?

I’m happy to report that no, no one has had problems getting it up around me.

And this is me KNOCKING ON FUCKING WOOD, RIGHT NOW!

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Do Men Fake It?

Can a man climax without ejaculation?

This is the question that’s on my mind this morning.

I say no.

Others say yes.

I’ve been with men who were multi orgasmic.

The Israeli was multi orgasmic.

I’ve never known a man to climax as much as he did, and every time, a little dollop of love juice spilled out.

He may have ultimately been a rude partner, but at least the man could get it up, keep it up, and keep going.

I joked with him that he missed out on a great career in the porn industry.

He was an engineer.

Tejas, the resident expert on all things sexual, has assured me that it is possible.

He says you can train the stream to go into the bladder, to which I say “no fucking way” because it’s physically impossible to mix the excretory system with the reproductive system.

Then he says that perhaps a man can “empty” himself by masturbating repetitively.

This seems more likely.

However, I’m still skeptical.

Just like I’m skeptical when a man tells me he’s given a woman 250 orgasms in a weekend.

FYI, that’s one orgasm every 12 minutes in a 48 hour period.

My friend Mystery Man, also thinks a male climax without semen release is possible.

For the same reason Tejas says it’s possible – repetitive masturbation.

Ok, ok.

So MAYBE it’s possible.

Then again, maybe men FAKE it. . .

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Things that gross me out in pornos

I’ll admit it.

I like porn.

Its fun to watch other people.

I’m a bit of a voyeur when it comes to sex.

I’m also an exhibitionist.

But there are some things that go on in pornos that I CAN’T STAND.

  1. When the man SPITS on the woman to “lube her up.” Spit isn’t lube. Ew, gross!
  2. Rose budding. Don’t even google it. You don’t want to know what it is. You’ve been warned!
  3. Going from anal to oral sex. Just no.
  4. When there’s no foreplay. I can’t ramp myself up without a little foreplay.
  5. When the guy looks like Ron Jeremy.
  6. When the women are obviously faking it. I like it when the actors are INTO what they are doing. Enthusiasm is EVERYTHING!
  7. Make me squirm.
  8. Lots of gagging and salivating during a blowjob. Men, I think, LOVE this. As a woman, I hate it.
  9. I’m just going to come out and say it – eating cum. I don’t mind it in my mouth but it’s not food so I’m NOT going to eat it. TMI?
  10. Plastic women. Give me a girl with a little jiggle and I’m happy.

Crazy Chemistry

It happens sometimes.

Usually, it comes out of left field and blind sides you when you’re least expecting it.

Chemistry.

Like CRAZY GOOD CHEMISTRY with someone who you maybe should not engage in chemical reactions with, if you catch my drift.

Like for instance, a married man.

Or your sister’s ex-boyfriend from high school.

Or maybe even someone who you totally despise except for the fact that you totally want to jump their bones.

That’s how it is sometimes.

Chemistry.

There’s really no predicting it.

There’s someone out there right now who I literally CAN’T WAIT to get my hands on.

Of course, he’s totally unavailable, which is – I am sure – part of his charm.

The thing is, every time I think of him in the biblical sense, I get this ache in my body, like I’m missing something important – such as food or water.

And I’m reminded of what my OM instructor said to our class a long time ago – that orgasm is as essential to the human existence as sleep.

And I think it’s pretty clear I’m suffering.

Crazy fucking chemistry.

There’s no escaping it.

Bareback Generation

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.

Lousy on top

Invariably, while I’m in the middle of getting my groove on, my partner will look at me and suggest a change in position.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask cheekily.

“Woman on top,” he replies.

Gah.

My WORST position ever!

I’d rather get on my hands and knees but being the type that doesn’t want to disappoint, I oblige.

I climb on top. . .

. . . and proceed to execute the most awkward, inelegant moves you can imagine.

Do I kneel?

Do I squat?

Half kneel, half squat?

I just can’t seem to get any traction.

Other women SWEAR by this position.

In fact I have friends who tell me it’s the only position that allows them to get off.

I’m still all knees and elbows, feeling like I’m hopping on a pogo stick made of meat and can’t get my balance or establish a rhythm.

The truth is it’s nothing that a little practice won’t fix.

If only I could get over being self-conscious about my lack of grace when I’m on top.

Maybe then I could master the technique.

Until then I’ll have to just grin and bear it.

Fake it ‘til you make it.

This post is hard to write

This post is hard to write.

That’s because I’m going to talk about something that is taboo but that we all do.

Period sex.

Come on now!

Don’t tell me you’ve never done it.

There were times I did it and no one even KNEW (swingers taught me secret little techniques to cover it up).

That being said, I have a few rules about it.

  1. Never for the first time
  2. Always be honest about it

And so I’ve followed those rules.

Until someone came along who appealed to me greatly.

So I broke rule #1.

And let me tell you this – IT. WAS. AMAZING.

Yes it was.

I was SUPER sensitive and starving for it.

He was more than capable of satisfying.

I warned him.

We still went there.

And I am so glad we did because I’ve literally been thinking of nothing else since then.

Of course, the clean up always gets me a little bit.

I felt sheepish and brought him a warm, wet towel.

I inwardly groaned when I saw the red-brown stain on the bright white towel.

I don’t know why but I would’ve preferred if it had been bright red instead of rust colored.

I swallowed the urge to run away.

I am a grown woman.

I gave him a choice.

And we went for it.

And BOY did WE GO FOR IT!

In praise of HANDSY men

I’m just going to come out and say it:

I like a man with grabby hands.

You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about if you have the same affinity for it as I do.

A handsy man is one who is constantly touching you.

Grabbing for you.

Getting up in your space and making you feel his presence.

I love this.

Charlie The Aussie was a handsy man.

So is The Swede.

As far as lovers go, a handsy man makes an OUTSTANDING partner.

You’re right in the middle of doing one thing when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you discover he’s also doing something else.

Like with the Swede, one hand would be up in my hair, messing it up, and pulling on it and I’d discover the other one was stroking my, ahem, chest.

It’s quite a thrill, if you catch my drift.

My friend Yvonne said that she felt starved for touch after her husband passed away.

I think he was a handsy man.

She said he was always touching her.

It occurs to me that out of the Five Love Languages, TOUCH is one of them.

Maybe this is how Yvonne’s late husband, Charlie The Aussie, and The Swede show affection.

Then again, maybe they’re just REALLY EXCELLENT LOVERS.

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Bad at Flirting

I don’t intentionally set out to be BAD AT FLIRTING.

It just turns out that way.

I’m actually quite shy when it comes to being around people I have an attraction for.

I play it cool.

No sense letting on that I’d like them to stuff me like a Christmas stocking.

Usually someone else has to make the first move.

And then I unleash myself.

Beware of the beast!

I have been known to:

  1. Shove my naked crotch in a man’s face.
  2. Tell a guy that having sex with him is on my bucket list.
  3. Years ago I told a guy I was going to go home and masturbate while thinking of him.
  4. I showed up on a doorstep in nothing but a long jacket, garter belt and stockings.
  5. I once told a guy I was going to hit on him and then proceeded to hit on him.
  6. Don’t get me started on all the XXX rated pictures I’ve sent through text. . .

Subtle, I am not.

I don’t know how a shy person evolved such an outrageous way to flirt, but it’s the honest truth.

I’m either totally shy or I’m bombing you with my lust.

There’s a reason my playa name is Bombshell.