Dec 312012

Evoë all dressed up and ready to goI can’t say that I’m sorry to see 2012 go. I’m ready for a fresh start, yet, looking back, it’s been an interesting year. I’ve picked some of my favorite posts – ones that really capture the essence of 2012. Whether this will be a nostalgic romp through your favorite posts, or your first time on this blog, I hope you enjoy my year in review…

  1. Bald – I started off 2012 by shaving my head (and most of the rest of my body hair) because I needed a change. It was an amazing experience that brought up all kinds of body image emotions. In retrospect, it was a good choice. I’m happy to have started 2012 with a clear head.
  2. I’ve got it bad – One of my highlights of 2012 was starting my relationship with Blyss. I wrote this post after our second time making love together, when I had the awesome experience of putting my whole hand inside her cunt. I love this post for all of it’s insecurities and ecstatic new relationship energy.
  3. Review: My Hand – I do a lot of reviews, but in March, I decided to go back to basics and write up a review of of the classic sex toy, My Hand. It’s my favorite review ever because it lets my silly sense of humor shine. Bottom line: don’t wave goodbye to the vibrator just yet, but give a round of applause to My Hand.
  4. I squirted! – This year April showers really did bring May flowers. I finally figured out how to ejaculate! After lots of research and months of trying, Harold got me to gush, and we’ve been enjoying the results ever since.
  5. Cunt – I love everything about this post. The photos are my favorites ever of my cunt and it was so powerful for me to write about the process of healing from sexual abuse. I really have come to own myself through the word “cunt.”
  6. Hunting weight – One of my major milestones of 2012 was meeting my weigh loss goal of 50 pounds. It was interesting to look back and see that thinner wasn’t necessarily better (I have liked myself at every weight), but I am very proud of meeting that goal.
  7. Poly family camping – Another highlight of my year has been the way that my polyamorous family has really come together. In July we went camping at the ocean for 4 nights. I was so impressed with how we all worked together to make sure that everyone’s needs were met and everyone had fun. There was even some hot sex with each of my guys!
  8. What not to do for anal sex – Every so often I do something really stupid sexually. While I find it embarrassing, I tend to share these mistakes on the blog, just in case it saves someone else from making them. For example, I would not advise using antimicrobial gel to clean up after anal sex and before vaginal penetration. Just… no.
  9. Pianoforte – We started participating in Sinful Sunday, posting an image every Sunday. We were lucky enough to win first place in our first competition, but didn’t always get recognized for the images we were most proud of, like Pain made beautiful or Vamp.
  10. Mortality – In October Harold turned 64. For some reason it finally struck me that he is 24 years older than me and he will likely die first. It has left me cherishing every kiss and every chance to make love.
  11. World Mental Health Day – This year I came out with my mental health statuses – Bipolar, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Post Partum Mood Disorder – along with ideas on how to cope with your sexuality if you or a loved one are suffering.
  12. It’s hawt in the kitcken! – I enjoy cooking and I adore getting messy, so this photo essay that Blyss and I put together around the holidays was a ton of fun. It amuses me that I finished showering and mopping the floor just in time for the children to get home from school. This is my glamorous life.

There you have it – 12 posts for 2012, all of my top highs and lowest of lows; essays, erotica, dialogues, and images. I’m proud of all that I’ve accomplished. I hope that you all feel as good about your year in review. May the year to come bring you much love and ecstasy. Happy New Year, 2013!

Dec 282012

(Evoë’s note: Tamara very courageously shares her experiences of sexual abuse and violence here. While this account may be triggering for some people, I would ask that you honor her spirit by witnessing her words.)

“The main message: I do not look at myself as a victim or a survivor. Why? Because that, in my mind means that they still have some hold over me. And I have long forgiven them. That has to do with my faith. But I made myself fight my way back to sanity, and it was a difficult task. I am a warrior, because I killed my dragon, and it has no hold over me.

This is the story of Tammy:

It has taken me a long time to find a way to tell this story in full. Over the years I have told bits and pieces of it to those who needed to hear it, and for me to help me overcome it. I find now that it is hard to tell it. I think partly because there is still some part of me, however small, that thinks that when people hear the whole of it they will judge me. That said, I now take a leap of faith.

When I was 6, I was living with my grandparents. My parents were traveling across country in a school bus they remodeled, from one coast to the other. While I was with my grandparents I made friends with the kids in the neighborhood and went to school.

Two houses down there were these two kids and we played together when they were there. That was their grandparent’s house. One day the grandpa let me in and raped me. He told me it was my fault, and that if I told I would get into trouble. He told me that if I did not come back again he would tell on me. I cried and was terrified for weeks, months even. Finally my parents made it here, and we moved. I slowly let that go into a dark corner of my head and tried not to visit there.

Some years later, after some very wonderful things happening like traveling around the world and so much more, we finally settled in Florida.  We first lived in a HUGE hotel on the beach in Miami. I was 12. There was this really cute lifeguard who was in his 20’s and he kept flirting with me. I of course was flirting back. We eventually had an affair. He was mad because I was not a virgin and tossed me aside. That hurt a lot. I know that was also a form of rape now, but then it was consensual to my frame of mind. I know at 12 you do not have any idea what that means either. That was the start of the horrors to come in the next 4 years.

My parents, Goddess bless their souls, were working with a very good spiritualist church. But it took up all their time. They were establishing a church there from the mother church in Seattle. So it really was a lot of work. I helped when I could but I had my own stuff to worry about.

Living in Miami as a white kid, I was in the minority of the minorities. If you were white you were either Italian, or Jewish. I was neither. The school I went to I was one of 4 white kids. And I had no one in my corner. I got beat up every day. There was this gang of Cuban girls who ran the school and they did not like me. So I spent a lot of days skipping school. I went to the Pier at Ocean Drive and 1st Street, where I swam the pain away. I watched all the cute Cuban surfer boys, and smoked a lot of pot. Always the boys called me names; the girls did too. Ghost. One of those hose boys sweet talked me into sex, and then told his friends what a whore I was. That hurt a lot.

One night I was sitting on the pier, by myself, and this guy who must have been 17 came up. He was tall, thin, and muscular, his curly black hair was long and unkempt. I thought he was cute. We smoked a joint and then, he kissed me. I went with it. Next thing I know we were in it. I looked up at him and saw he was wearing a cross upside down and it shocked me. I tried to fix it, and he hit me. He then said to shut up and turn over. He sodomized me and then beat me more while he raped me. He laughed when he was done and said he was Satan’s hand and I was the sacrifice. I retreated into myself for months.

Eventually I came back out to the sea. To cleanse my soul, I swam. Several months later I was skipping school again, and this beautiful car drives up to the pier. This handsome, well-dressed guy gets out, and walks up to me. He says, “I know this sounds weird and you can say no, but my girl Friday just walked out on me and I need a new assistant. Would you like to make some money?”

Me, naive as hell, says yes. I get into his car and go to this beautiful mansion with a gatehouse. He tells me that this is his home office. He runs a record company and does a lot of work from home. So for a week I worked for him, straightening out files, filing records, and getting coffee and lunches from the house. His wife was very pretty and looked at me like she wanted to eat me.

Friday came and he paid me in pot and ludes. I thought this was the greatest job ever. He also gave me a promo album from The Tubes. The next week I came to work and he got me totally drunk and stoned. I woke up in his house tied up and naked. He and his wife, and son, had me for a week and used me a lot. It was scary at first but I liked her, and him and it was twisted and wrong but I did not run. When they were done with me I still worked for him for a while. I got to work a couple parties where I met the Allman Brothers, and I met Van Halen. That was definitely not one of the more heinous things. Thank Gods it was not all horrific.

That was when things changed. That was when it all went so very bad. There were these two Cuban boys who lived across the street from me. They were in a gang. One day when I was coming home from school, they and three of the other gang members grabbed me up on the side of the street, dragged my into an abandoned building that was nearby, and they gang raped me, for hours. They told me that if I told anyone they would kill my parents. I believed them so I kept quiet.

Over the next 2 years these two boys would invite others to come with them and they would find and abduct me, and rape me. They did this 10 times. The tenth time I broke. I started screaming, I did not care if they killed me, I would not be used like this anymore. The cops came, I gave them the names of the boys and where they lived. My parents sent me to live with my aunt up the coast where my uncle was a sheriff, so I was safe.

Several months later we went to court. My uncle drove me and was there for me. The whole thing was horrible. They tore me apart. The judge in the end told me that because I stood in the sprinkler in my shorts and bikini top in the summer heat, (110 degrees) I was being enticing, and that I deserved what I got. He ruled in their favor.

I was devastated… I ran away. I spent several days in a drunken, drugged, haze. Sleeping in boiler rooms of hotels and under piers. One day a car pulled up and a man got out. He grabbed me up and drove off with me. He knocked me out with chloroform. I woke up tied up in a small dark space. I was gagged. I could hear a man’s voice outside. He was negotiating a fee for the use of my body with another man for money and drugs.

I was kept by this monster and used to pay for his drug habit. I was forced to have sex with men, and animals, and they did torturous things with cigarettes, hot wires and razors. One night he let two men have me for the night. I out drank them and ran. I took all their money and split. When I stopped running I was a mess.

I cleaned up and went to the bus station to try to get out of town. A young man took me in. He gave me a place to live for a while, and I kept his house clean for him. One day though, he got drunk and decided that I was to pay him back. I hit him and ran out. His roommate heard the commotion and grabbed me. He took me into his room and soothed me. He told me it would be okay, but that I needed to go home. He took me home.

I stayed there for a few months, but the boys who had raped me still lived across the street. I left again. This time I lived with a girl who helped me a lot, but one day she went out of town to see friends. Her apartment was robbed, and the guy who did it knew me and was a total thug. He pinned it on me. The girl, unfortunately, was the granddaughter of the biggest Godfather in Miami. OOPS! So then the guy who pinned it on me, to prove his point, beat the shit out of me and told me that if I did not give back the $ I stole in 4 hours he would kill me. I freaked out and called my mom. She got me on a plane back here to my grandmother.

I was 16 then.

My life here has been that of a different person, I thought that was all over for me. But in 2004 I was working as a tattoo artist. After a couple months the crew quit, because the boss was an ass. I stayed because I needed the experience and cash. So I became the piercer and artist. One day this guy came in and told me he was tattooing people, I told him how dangerous that was and told him to go to the school I went to, they would put him in a shop when he graduated. He did. A month later he showed up to show me his first tattoo, on his thigh. He asked if we could go in the back because it was on his thigh. I locked the front and we did. When we got in there he raped me.

It was so fast I did not know what to do. I was in shock. He held my mouth open and forced himself down my throat and came in seconds. I called the shop owner and the cops. The cops came but they told me that it would be difficult to prove if there is no DNA in my mouth. The swab came back negative for his DNA so they told me that even if they pumped my stomach it might not have proof.

It was his word against mine. I did not prosecute. I have little faith in the judicial system for solving this kind of stuff after what happened before. The shop owner who also owns the school did nothing either. In fact, he told me he needed the money so his answer was, not to kick the guy out, but to install fake cameras because they would stop people. I left his employ.

That is the last time.

I know it was not my fault, none of it was. I was never a bad person, and I did not deserve any of what happened to me. However I am a stronger person now. I am not sick, they are. I am a good person, and I am an instrument of love. I will never be a victim, or a survivor. I am a WARRIOR, born in blood and pain!!

I will never let anyone, ever have my soul. I will never let anyone harm me again. And I know that they will be dealt with for the crimes they committed when they pass from this life. It is my hope they learn, and their souls grow, and change and become something better, something good.

I pass unto you the power to become a warrior too. Be strong my sisters and brothers, for we are beautiful, we are strong, and we are warriors born out of blood and pain, we go forth and conquer. With love!”

 Posted by at 9:29 am
Dec 272012

IMG_7017I’m alone in the house for the first time in days. I didn’t plan this miraculous occurrence, but I am taking advantage of it by lounging in the bathtub, musing about what it means to be part of a polyamorous household over the holidays. I was remembering this post I wrote two years ago – so much is the same and yet so different.

Our family seems to have grown larger, our connections stronger, and our love deeper. There is also the maturity that happens with two years of experience plus processing. I see it in everyone, from the children to the adults. Like any poly family, we are complicated.

I might need a diagram to explain our family. I’ve discovered that it’s useful to carry a pen and scrap paper for these occasions. At the very center of our family is me, my husband Joel, my other husband Harold, and his wife Melanie.  For the holidays this year we had our 4 year old daughter, boys of 9 and 11, two young adult daughters, an adult son and his wife (Ned and Maggie), my girlfriend Blyss, and Melanie’s boyfriend. We pulled off stockings and secret magical Santa stuff for all 13 people.

poly flow chart

Polyamory makes for a lot of people, not to mention a lot of interconnections. Blyss and Melanie’s boyfriend have been known to roll around together from time to time, and he had his girlfriend over sometimes during our celebrations. I am pondering the idea that being in a relationship with someone does not necessarily make them part of your family. But everyone wants to be close to the people they care about at the holidays. I am imagining what it will be like when our children bring home multiple partners. Joyful chaos I think. It’s a good thing that I excel at logistics.

The bulk of our family currently consists of people in their 20’s. It’s the first time in my life where I am one of the older generation. I’m finding the sensation odd. There is a generation of adults significantly younger than me. I love sharing their enthusiasm for life. I’m not sure I’m ready to take my place at the grown-up table yet.

Santa was good to me this year, as always. My stocking was filled with sexy thong panties, a new Mystic Wand (because one is not enough!), a beautiful bracelet, good hiking socks, and a chest binder. It’s Christmas for the gender confused! Harold got the new Aneros Helix Syn prostate stimulator. We tried it out on Christmas Day and I’m going to have to write a full review. (It seems pretty impressive, but we must test it further, right?) I feel so supported by our family that Harold and I had a chance to slip away for a little bit.

Harold during the holidaysWe are doing fun things all week – sledding, movies, hiking through the mountains to the hot springs, building a gingerbread tableau, feasting, baking, maybe ice skating, roasting marshmallows and telling stories, or more playing in the snow. Whatever people want to do. And nobody has to do anything that they don’t want to do. It’s amazing.

I think the holidays tend to be stressful for everyone because it brings up childhood memories and expectations. It’s exponentially more difficult the more people you toss together. We certainly don’t have things all worked out, but every year together gets better. We did a lot of communication about what is important to everyone, including the children. This year I didn’t experience the same tension I normally feel. I have a very warm intimacy flowing through me, spilling out around me. I love my family so much. Poly is good.

Dec 222012

This holiday season I am keenly aware of the things that really matter to me. It’s not shopping for the perfect present, getting the wrapping perfect, maintaining a spotless house, baking all the right goodies, or planning an amazing meal. I would love to achieve those things, but they aren’t important. Right now I am counting my blessings – each and every one of the people who makes my life amazing.

I’m doing my best this season, to honor the connections I have to the important people in my life. Our traditions are meaningless if we can’t cut back on the stress and really be present together. This means looking into my daughter’s face when she sees candles light up, laughing with my sons as we cook together, and spending time curled naked in my love’s arms in front of a blazing fire just talking about our dreams for the future.

My biggest dream is to find peace and joy in everyday life and this is my wish for all of you: May you find peace and joy during this holiday season, and always!

Peace and Joy


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Sinful Sunday

Dec 192012

IMG_6989Polyamory, sharing my life with many partners, has brought me a lot of joy. I worked hard to help create a complex and supportive family with my partners and it has paid off. Not only am I happy, but I get to see my partners’ happiness with other people. When it all works, we are sparking creativity and growth in each other all of the time. It’s beautiful. Fantastic. Amazing. I just have one gripe.

Darling, don’t kiss me when you’ve just been going down on someone else. It’s not about logic. I know, it doesn’t really make sense. Yes, I might have licked them at some point before, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve chosen to put my face in their genitals at this time. It’s different if we’re all in bed together, but if I haven’t shared in the pleasure, I don’t want to reheat the left-overs.

It’s not that I dislike genitals. Bodies are lovely and fun to explore! I enjoy bodily fluids in the right context, I just have this one little boundary. Ironically, I don’t mind kissing you after you’ve been worshipping my cunt. I like tasting myself on your lips. It’s not good if you still smell like pussy the next day though. What I’m saying is that I have a time limit, after which, I am squicked out by you kissing me while your face is covered in juices.

To be fair, it’s not just jism that makes me flinch when I see you mouth coming at me. I’m going to be a bit distracted by milk or jam or anything else clinging to your lip. I want to make out with you, not your breakfast. Or whoever you ate before breakfast.

I love you. Kissing you feels warm and wonderful, but not if I’m wondering where your face has been as you move in for a deep smootch. I know that there is not always time or opportunity to bathe between giving head and greeting me, but if you want that toe-curling, earthshaking experience, you gotta be clean. I don’t mind an intimate hug until you can wash your face. I’ll wait.

Really, Darling, don’t kiss me until you get a chance to wash up.

Dec 162012

I adore the snow! I love watching it fall and I like to go and play outside. There is something so cozy about it snowing outside. I spent a lot of time yesterday warm in my flannel sheets, sipping hot drinks, and gazing out the window at the gorgeous flakes coming down. Snow just feels sexy, in that delicious, gotta have it kind of way. I can’t decide whether snow or sex is more fun, so I try to combine both!

Happy in the snow

 Dancing in the snow

Shakin' booty in the snow

Naked in the snow

See what other sexy bloggers are up to today!

Sinful Sunday

Dec 152012

Pouty EvoëI haven’t been feeling sexy. I just haven’t thought much about sex. I’ve been too tired and unhappy to be turned on. In theory, I have wanted to be sexual – I’ve had some good sex and enjoyed it, but my levels of desire have been low. Until a few weeks ago, I was wondering if I would ever really care about sex again. It’s painful to be such a sex-oriented person, whose identity is so involved in sex, and find that you don’t really care anymore.

Now, in the last few weeks, I realize that I’m feeling better than I have for a long time. I wake up earlier than normal with more energy than I’ve felt for a while. My overall mood is improved and I cope with things better. Best of all, I’m starting to feel that liquid flowing sexiness!

Turns out my thyroid function has been low. A simple blood test turned it up. No one ever told me how important the thyroid is! When it’s out of whack, high or low, all kinds of problems can ensue. Low thyroid function (hypothyroidism) is most common and these are a few of the possible symptoms:

  • fatigue and weakness
  • weight gain or increased difficulty losing weight
  • intolerance to heat and/or cold
  • muscle cramps and frequent muscle aches
  • constipation
  • depression and/or irritability
  • memory loss
  • abnormal menstrual cycles
  • sexual dysfunction

There’s not as much information as I’d like available on how low (hypo-) or  high (hyper-) thyroid function can affect your sex life. It does seem clear that the thyroid hormone acts on the smooth muscle cells of the erectile tissues of the genitalia for people of all genders. For men, thyroid imbalance can cause low sex drive, erectile dysfunction, and premature ejaculation. Women may notice significantly worse lubrication, difficulty achieving orgasm, and pain during sex. People with high thyroid function (hyperthyroidism) may experience a very strong sex drive.

I didn’t notice my thyroid deficiency coming on. It happened too gradually for me to point to when it started. I just know that at some point I was ready to start taking an antidepressant because my overall mood was so much lower than normal. I couldn’t make myself do the things I loved anymore. This thyroid stuff just kind of sneaks up on you, makes you believe that life has always been like this. Ironically, the medication I take to keep my moods balanced, Lithium, may be what caused my hypothyroidism.

I started taking Levothyroxine about 6 weeks ago and the difference is staggering. Within a week or two I was noticing that it felt great to be alive. Now the house is clean and organized again! I’m having fun with the children. I find communication easier. I’m almost ready to take on the world. My sex drive is not quite back to normal, but it’s way better than it was.

For a while, I could be talked into sex, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I didn’t get as wet as normal. I was able to orgasm, but I just didn’t have a lot of interest in sex. I think my husband and I went 3 months without any sexual interaction, which must be a new record. It’s a difficult situation for someone who blogs her sex life and a challenge for someone who dearly loves sex.

My libido is slowly picking up speed. Last week I had sex with Joel for the first time in months and Harold had to turn down my proposition because he was too tired. I’m even having sexy dreams. Still, I’m keeping in mind that my desire might need more of a pick-me-up. I know that other hormone levels are often also out of balance after a thyroid issue, and my practitioner says that it could take three months for the medication to work fully. I’m waiting to see!

So many people find themselves at some point in the sexual doldrums. There are a lot of possible reasons, but I can’t recommend enough getting your thyroid levels tested if you are experiencing any of the symptoms I listed above. Taking thyroid medication is easy, and I’m so happy to be lusting fabulously again!

Dec 152012

Photo courtesy of Penny

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Dec 092012

My husband has been sending me sexy text messages that say things like, “your ass: succulent, creamy, dreamy, and wonderful” and, ” your entire body is a masterpiece.” It’s gotten me kind of worked up while he was away at work. This morning we finally had a chance to connect sexually in the shower. Then, before we went to spend family time decorating for the holidays, he decorated his favorite part of me and took this photo…

tinsel and ass


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Sinful Sunday

Dec 022012

Evoë asleepHe says that he doesn’t like to have sex in the morning. He can’t get hard, he says, when his blood sugar is low, let alone muster the energy to come. The morning is my favorite time. I am relaxed, languid with warmth and sleep. Desire flows easily in my body; I feel safe and cherished. He wants to get things done while he is fresh. I want to twine my arms and legs around him, kiss him slowly, sensuously. I fantasize about getting sweaty under the sheets while the morning light shines on us.

This morning he came to me after he had been working for a couple hours, just as the light gathered outside my windows. He snuggled in beside me, faces close enough to draw each other’s breath. I burrowed into him, sleepily enjoying his nearness. We talked, about everything and nothing, simply sharing space, until my hand found his cock.

It wasn’t intentional, me feeling him up. My hands seem to wander his body independent of thought, but we both noticed that I was caressing his penis and balls through his jeans. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped for better access. I discovered that I could get just the head of his cock in my mouth. This seemed to drive him crazy. He was quick to pull down his pants and his boxers after that.

I felt like there was a snake inside me, coiled and deceptively still, waiting to strike. Or the warm glow of a bed of coals awaiting a breath of air to flower into full flame. His fingers slowly circling my clitoris and pinching my nipples sent heat surging through me. I took the whole of his erect cock into my mouth, flicking the tip with my tongue every time I drew back. The liquid tingle in my cunt increased and I had to lay back.

Looking in his eyes, I covered my palm with lube and stroked him while he teased me. I squirmed and groaned, wanting to be penetrated. His cock was so hard that the skin had no give as a slid up and down it’s length with my hand. I could tell that he was getting close to orgasm when he jumped up to take his pants the rest of the way off.

I rolled onto my stomach, lifting my ass up, wanting so badly to be fucked like that. He obliged, letting me help guide him into my cunt. His motions were gentle at first as we found the angle that worked best and settled into a good rhythm. Soon he was pounding into me, my face pressed into the bed. My back ached from being arched in that awkward position, but I didn’t care because it felt so perfect. His cock hit just the right spot inside me.

Our building passion brought us right up to the edge where we hovered for a moment, gasping and moaning, before exploding into a shared orgasm. I lost all sense of self in that moment, a beautiful perfect moment of total union, my body clasped underneath his. Then we were laughing and kissing.

Being a sensitive and caring partner, he immediately found the vibrator and slid his fingers into me. You can’t come too many times, right?  This is my default, no-fail, way to orgasm. If I’ve come a few times already, I’m likely to squirt with him caressing my g-spot. We make love in a lot of different ways, but this just always feels amazing, especially when he adds in nipple stimulation. I think I came in about 60 seconds.

I love morning sex.

Maybe he can have sex in the morning, he says, maybe he can come. (Maybe it’s just my influence.)