Panty Fetish

I’m not sure how to write this post without using a lot of euphemisms, so bear with me.

Recently, I’ve run into a guy who has a panty fetish.

Not THAT kind of panty fetish.

He doesn’t like wearing them (though I’ve come across those who do).

He likes to, ahem, sniff them.

Not a clean pair fresh from the laundry pile, mind you.

He prefers panties that have been worn all day and are slightly, ahem, damp.

He asked me to describe what my panties smell like after a day of work.

Now.

I don’t know about you but the only time I sniff my panties is when I’m trying to figure out if that pair on the floor is clean or dirty.

So I said the only thing that came to mind.

They smell sweet and musky.

Well, he just about DIED.

Say it again, he requested.

Sweet and musky.

So now, when I go out on a date with this guy, he is expecting me to hand over to him the panties I am wearing.

Gah!

I do believe that I am going to wear TWO pairs of panties that day.

One pair for reals, and one pair for him.

He’ll get to keep the outer pair of panties while I can continue to enjoy the comfort of my inner pair of panties.

And both of us go home happy.

F*ck that!

michelleI got my first internet troll hating on my blog today.

Some woman from Albania who had numerous critiques of “Western women.”

Basically we’re all horn dogs giving out sex right and left then wondering why men don’t take us seriously.

[As if being taken seriously should have anything to do with our sex lives.]

In any case, she tried to slut shame me and even used that word – slut – to try and make me feel bad.
Did it work?

Not fucking likely.

First of all, the last thing I’m going to do is let a woman in Albania who has NO IDEA who I am to take my blog posts and turn them against me.

My posts are a bit on the sexy side DELIBERATELY because I like being frivolous and light.

Lord knows there’s enough seriousness in my life to weigh me down.

Second, if I was a slut, I SURE AS HELL WOULD BE GETTING A LOT MORE ACTION THAN I AM.

And finally, I reject the idea that “western women” are obsessed with sex. I know MANY women who basically could live their lives without it and I dislike anyone who generalizes and stereotypes women in order to promote their own critique.

JUST BECAUSE YOU SAY IT DOESN’T MAKE IT TRUE.

As a general principle I strongly object to slut shaming. I think women should have as much freedom in their sex lives as men do without being treated like they’re diminished as human beings because of it.

Ms. Albania acts as if the best thing in the world is to have a man and not be single.

I disagree.

The best thing in the world is to have a man (or woman) who you connect with.

I don’t connect with everyone on that level.

Not everyone is a kindred spirit.

And that’s okay.

I can enjoy their company any way I want EVEN if that includes having sex.

If that makes me a slut in some people’s eyes, so be it.

I refuse to let a stranger tell me that my value is measured solely though my pussy and how tightly I let the norms of men rule over it.

Fuck that.

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The post where I straddle his face

michelleI did something OUTRAGEOUS the other day.

I was at a party.

One with a pool and a hot tub where wearing clothes was “optional.”

So I went in the hot tub.

Naked.

BUT THAT’S NOT THE OUTRAGEOUS THING. . .

There was this guy there (there’s always a man, isn’t there?).

We were just chatting about tattoos and I mentioned that I had 5 tattoos.

He asked to see them.

No biggie, right?

Well, two of my tattoos are on my hips and there was no way to show them to him standing up in the hot tub since they were covered by water.

So I stood on the hot tub seat, STRADDLED him, and showed him my tattoos.

WITH MY PUSSY INCHES FROM HIS FACE.

Now, first let me say that I wasn’t really thinking straight. I’d had champagne and fire whiskey and wine.

Until I jumped up and shoved my pussy in his face, I really had no idea that he’d be so close in proximity to it.

I thought I was being more demure but in reality I was being INCREDIBLY BOLD.

I’m confident I will never do this again, but it was fun to do just this once and to see his reaction.

I’m not sure he even SAW my tattoos.

I think he was DISTRACTED. . .

Hairstyles (not what you think)

Celebrities like Gwyneth Paltrow and Cameron Diaz get interviewed about it.

A stray one can shut down an entire restaurant.

We’ve devised all sorts of ways to remove it from lasers to razors to depilatories.

We are a nation OBSESSED with pubic hair.

And I have a confession to make. Like the rest of America, I too am enthralled with bush.

I even sneak a peek at other women’s merkins in the gym… just to see what sort of hairstyle they’re sporting.

I used to shave. But shaving doesn’t last long enough.

I used depilatories and gave myself a chemical burn. Ouch.

I switched to Brazilian waxes but they hurt too much and I hated the in-between stage.

So I finally got my business lasered.

That’s right…. PERMANENT hair removal.

And I was thrilled with my pussy.

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Soft. Pink. Smooth. Made for fun. It just screamed “Play with me!”

But recently, having seen more and more women sporting some sort of a bush, I’ve started to miss my long-lost hair down there.

Hair, at the very least, provides a little visual protection. It signals sexual maturity. It absorbs moisture and disperses pheromones.

And I have none.

Fortunately, I don’t think it matters much to men. They’re likely just pleased to get close to a pussy to be particular about the hairstyle.

But just so you know, I miss my little bush.

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My OM (Orgasmic Meditation)

My OM class was on Saturday.  When it comes to orgasm, no one knows it better than the One Tasters.  Indeed, one taste of it is all it took and I’m ready for more.

Let’s begin at the end… with my grinning face walking around the One Taste studio on Market Street in San Francisco.

And why was I grinning?

Because I’d just had an OM – 15 minutes of a man stroking my clit.

And it was awesome (not surprisingly).

I felt ripples of pleasure moving like waves through my pussy. [Note: the One Tasters love to use the word “pussy”]

My partner was a total stranger to me before that day.  He was an older athletic gentleman named Stan from Santa Cruz.  He said he liked to have fun and he was so forward about it he was like a little kid with ADHD.

But I didn’t care.  I found him physically attractive and could handle his over-the-top enthusiasm and energy for our activity.

When we began, Stan suffered from a case of “can’t find the clit.”  He was close, but not there.  He was everywhere but there.  I should have said something but then an instructor came by and showed him the right way to do it and BAM… we were on like Donkey Kong.

I found myself staring at the ceiling, at the side of Stan’s face, and back up to the ceiling again.  Then I closed my eyes.

Breathe.  Relax.

What do I feel in my body?

Warmth.  Pressure.  Pain.  Pleasure.  Heat.  Waves. Tingling.

It was hard to quiet my mind and pay attention to what was happening to me.  I though about how odd it was that I was doing this with a stranger [I would have loved to do it with my friend Jack of Jack and Jill fame.]

After 15 minutes of this delightful practice, Stan and I wrapped up our activities and shared a frame – a moment of sensation during the OM.  I talked about ripples.  Stan talked about what a beautiful pussy I had.

Then Stan turned to the class and publicly thanked me for OMing with him.  He announced to the class that I had a beautiful pussy.  And admitted he had a stiffie from our practice.  To a room full of people.  :-0

Well, he was honest.

Later, Stan asked me for my number.  Instead I asked for his.  Never know when a girl might need another OM.

All in all, this was a great experience and one I am likely to repeat again  I felt so energized and alive and that feeling is lingering with me even as I write this.  I have a feeling there’s a lot more to learn about OM and I’m interested in learning more.

I am going to be a turned ON woman.

How to eat pu**y

Upon reading about my frustration with The Australian regarding his seduction approach, my friend Anna sent me the most enlightening article titled “How to Eat Pu**y:  A Magical Guide for Evolved People.

I was going to do nothing with it except read it myself until I received a comment from another friend Ken stating his disappointment that I did not give tips in my “Do you want to get your pu**y licked?” post (which by the way was censored by Facebook).

So here you go…. they’re not quite my tips, they’re not quite Anna’s tips.  But they are someone’s tips (and FYI I’m not sure that talking to a pussy is as sexy as the author hints at).  But don’t take my word for it.  You can read all of the tips here.  For time’s sake, I’m summarizing below:

  • Introduction – Tell her she is beautiful and mean it.  This is always ALWAYS a great thing to do ANYTIME.  Stop and appreciate her unique flower.  Every woman is different, this could be excruciating for some women who are shy.
  • Engagement – lick her outer and inner lips.  In that order.  Got that?  Then go find her cl*t.  And food goodness sakes, whenever you touch a woman’s pu**y make sure your finger are wet.
  • Interaction – tease her and approach her slowly.  Play with her. Kiss her gentry then harder.  Tongue f*ck her.  Work her tip of the iceberg.  Feeling a little hot yet?  Continue on…
  • Escalation – Finger f*ck her with TWO fingers.  TWO, got that?  Get to know her orgasmic symptoms.  Don’t let go of her cl*t when she starts to orgasm (the multi-orgasmic woman).  Consider the cherry on the cake (read about it here – #14).
  • Continuation – after the orgasmic wave, keep making love to her.

So I read this article and figured why not?

I sent it to the Australian, on Anna’s suggestion, with the comment:

“Seduction is one of my favorite games.  How a man plays says a lot about him.  How would you like to play?”

And voila.. there’s goes my flirt.

Getting it on, baby.  Getting it on!

 

[Update:  The Australian responded to my email and told me that #4 and #6 are his specialties.  To find out what that is, click here.

 

Do you want to get your pu**y licked?

Do you want to get your pu**y licked?

That’s what the Australian asked me when he was jonesing for some action.

6’6″ tall, 27 years old, and randy as well, I can tell you that the Australian appeals to me greatly.

Unfortunately for him, I got his message while on a sail boat 5 miles out in the bay doing 20 knots.

No chance for pu**y licking there.

Don’t get me wrong.  I appreciate directness as much as I appreciate an eager man.  But I just can’t help but wish he was a little more refined in his seduction scene.  Perhaps a little introductory flirt.  Or an opening compliment.

Could he be a little more like Austin?  Matter of fact, could he BE Austin?  My flirtatious friend and I have been exchanging relatively benign emails and I miss getting my flirt on with him.

So yes, there’s the Australian with his tongue at the ready for me.  I should stop fantasizing about Austin-who-has-a-girlfriend.

And I will.  Very soon.  Maybe soon enough to visit the Australian.  But until then…