There’s always the one that got away – that one person that you really thought you could make it with, but for one reason or another it didn’t work out. Doesn’t everyone have a story like that? Here’s mine…
Once upon a time, long, long ago, I fell in love with a prince of man. Well, he was barely more than a boy, just as I was barely more than a girl, but in the way of people in their late teens to early 20′s, we were extremely mature. At the time I was engaged to a man who had suddenly decided that girls were icky, but he wanted to marry me anyway and have a family. I would be free to take lovers for my sexual gratification. It sounded dubious. The Fiancé and I both fell for the Prince. I left the Fiancé, desiring romance over a sexless marriage and became roommates with the Prince.
There was a time that I made love with the Prince while the Fiancé watched, making suggestions from the sidelines, but the Prince very politely rejected the Fiancé’s advances. I think each of us wanted something we couldn’t have. It was all very sad and poignant. Still, I had incredible energy with the Prince. When the two of us were in a room together everything focused on us. We were on fire.
I wanted the Prince desperately, but he wouldn’t commit. We could fuck like crazy, but he didn’t love me – not like I loved him. Before long he fell in love with someone else. It was painful to watch him be in love, waiting to hear her voice on the phone, seeing his face light up at the thought of her. I spun into depression. One morning while I was planning my suicide in the shower, I realized that plotting my death had become a habit, one I wanted to shake. I decided to live.
I went and woke up the Prince to ask him to drive me to the hospital so I could commit myself. He pulled me into bed with him, holding me while I cried. He nuzzled into my hair and whispered, “You know, you are really sexy when you’re depressed.” And he proceeded to make love to me. It was very bittersweet (not to mention less than ethical). It was also our last time – 17 years ago.
It was a difficult transition after that. I was focused on turning my life around, starting the work that’s consumed my adult life, both personally and professionally. I moved. I moved on. I’ve found happiness. The Prince married his Princess and they started their life together. They have lived happily ever after.
Fast forward to present day. It was with a little bit of trepidation that I invited the Prince and his wife over for drinks a few nights ago, when Harold and I happened to be in their area. I’ve been on Facebook with both the Prince and his wife, but it’s not the same as sharing space with someone. I imagine that they must have been a bit cautious themselves, but we ended up having a great time.
I know that I felt hurt and confused so many years ago, but I don’t even remember why any more. Having the Prince sit across the room from me, I was reminded of why we had been friends originally. He is still all of the things that I liked when we were young, but he’s developed maturity to temper it, and the depth of experience grants him solidity. After the initial uncertainty, we all relaxed and had a good time. Maybe it’s just that I drank more than usual.
I had a few moments of unreality, where I thought, I have had sex this man who is now a stranger in my life. But then he would make some teasing comment to me and I would be amazed at how well he knew me. I was surprised to realize that the only thing I feel towards him now is a certain fondness. No hard feelings. I like the man he is now. I like his wife. He has chosen a different path than mine and that’s good for both of us.
I’m just not sure what the protocol is for old lovers. Hopefully, if you’ve had sex with someone you want to stay friends, but I’m really only friends with a few lovers from my past. I think we navigated the situation pretty well. I sat next to the Prince in the hot tub, hugging the corner out of politeness, trying not to let our skin touch. Then I thought, fuck it. We have been way more intimate. I once gave him a hand job in a movie theater. And I didn’t worry when the back of my hand came to rest against his arm. I would be way more familiar with a friend I hadn’t had sex with. Once I stopped worrying, it was all good.
I am so thankful to have had this opportunity to reconnect. It feels very healing to realize that there is happiness where there was once pain and anger. I am very fond of the Prince and pleased at his successes. We found a lot of common ground in discussing parenting and sex. I think I need friends like this – people who remember spreading rumors in our circle about me being a pro domme. And as the Prince’s wife reminded me, I was holding a bull whip the first time she met me. I guess that makes an impression.
I don’t know if we will ever be close friends, but I feel like we’ve finally cleared up enough of the past that being friends is possible. It hurt like hell to be young and have my love rejected. I’ve learned so much about myself since then. Once I would have thought that making amends with the Prince would involve his apology, but it turns out that by making amends with myself, an apology isn’t necessary. We’re friends.
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The stress has been getting to us. Between working hard all of the time, the children, managing a home and multiple relationships, working through my childhood abuse scars, and money being tight, my relationship with Harold has been very strained lately. Not that it’s been bad, just harder for us to find the powerful connection that we share. So I made an executive decision to get away for a weekend and our spouses helped to make it happen.
I’m so glad that we did! We took a ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island and stayed in a little cabin there. I adore the ferry – it feels like magic. Being on a boat automatically shifts the energy and gives the impression of being on a journey. I feel the same way about airplanes and trains. I like to travel; it’s exciting. It also turns me on. I always want to find some way of fucking, but I’ve only managed to have sex on a ferry boat once before, sadly not on this trip.
After the refreshing ferry ride, we walked around in downtown Winslow and Poulsbo. It felt good to spend unstructured time together. We’re always so goal oriented and busy. Here we just wandered and talked. I felt at ease for the first time in a long while. The sun was shining and all was right with the world. Part of having a family and being polyamorous is that I am always thinking about other people’s needs. It’s very nice to have no thoughts beyond the moment.
We did manage to have some sex. Again, spontaneity is amazing – the ability to just be sexual whenever the mood strikes is a gift. In fact, Harold came three times over the weekend! This is significant for me because over the past several month erections have been scarce. I am relieved to know that if we get into a more relaxed state, everything still flows. Our sexual connection is just as hot as it always has been. When we have the time and space, we are as horny as teenagers and ready to jump each other.
We did other things too. We spent a lot of time in the hot tub. We worked. We spent a delightful evening catching up with some old friends of mine. We cooked together. We walked on the beach and picked up shells. We talked easily and openly about all kinds of things. We watched movies and cuddled. It was a good time.
As with most vacations, it didn’t feel like enough time – we had just begun to unwind. Yet I was ready to face the world again. I felt rested and focused. This mini-vacation proved that our love is still strong. What more do I need?
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I don’t know what’s up with my sex life. I had a root canal 3 days ago and I’ve been in a lot of pain since. I’ve felt so much pain that I gave in and took Percocet. Normally I would avoid narcotics because I don’t like feeling muddled. I don’t want to depend on drugs to feel good. But at a certain point, the pain gets to be too much and I cave. I’ve spent much of the past 3 days high.
Percocet does weird things to my libido. On one hand, being out of pain is a relief and makes me more receptive to sexual activity. On the other hand, narcotics make me feel kind of crazy. I feel distant and detached from my body. But my body is ovulating. My cunt is super wet and ready to go. My brain on drugs considers sex in a philosophical way – contemplating the deep eroticism of touch. I am both turned on and not present in my body.
I want to be sexual. We kiss slowly and deeply. I cut his his hair in a haze of sensuality. We shower together, bodies sliding soapily in the hot spray. His hands grasp my hips and cup my breasts. I enjoy these activities, but my brain never really engages. I never take it a step further.
After 3 days of intense foreplay with little follow through, my brain starts to foment rebellion, ways to overthrow the tyranny of narcotics. I feel manic. I want wild, sudden, rough sex. I need to prove that my body is still mine. I am on fire. I struggle to feed my desire in ways that I won’t regret later. We manage to find a way to fuck long enough for me to orgasm, but it just adds fuel to the fire.
The drugs still cloud my mind. It reminds me of negative experiences, of being drugged and raped, but I am doing my best to reclaim even this feeling. I should be able to take pain medication without being triggered. I can feel sexual because that’s mine. I own my sexuality. I’m always working so hard to prove that to myself. It’s just that the drugs make clear thought a challenge.
It’s about control. I don’t want to lose control and the narcotics make it hard for me to think. If I needed to quickly think my way out of a situation, I wouldn’t be able to. If I feel like someone else has my back, I can relax, maybe even enjoy the feeling of being high. Mostly, I am struggling so hard to stay in control that I am allowing myself only a narrow window. This desire for wild abandon is my attempt to open up and let go. I know that I could have a good time, even on drugs, if I just let go.
I made it through last night – trapped in my body and hazy mind, wishing with all my might to be fucked, but doing my best to be a good mom. I wanted to let go. Sadly, no chance for even a few minutes alone with my vibrator. This morning the pain feels less, though the swelling is still present. I think I’m done with Percocet. I want my sex to be clean.
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What if your vibrator not only brought you to orgasm, but also made every single one of your orgasms more intense? Good, right? This is exactly what Jopen claims their new vibrator, Intensity, does for you. Intensity has several important features: an electro-stim kegel exerciser, an inflation pump, and vibrators for the g-spot and clitoris. Combined, these features make up the most comprehensive women’s sex toy I’ve ever seen. While Intensity is odd looking, it’s clearly designed with the user in mind.
It’s the electro stimulation that makes this “adult pleasure product” stand out. Story goes that Intensity arose out of the development of a medical device designed to help women strengthen their pelvic floor muscles. Age and childbirth can decrease pelvic muscle function, often causing incontinence, so such a device would already be quite valuable medically. Then women in their test group admitted that they were having intense orgasms, which happens because pelvic floor muscles are also partially responsible for the involuntary spasms that happen during orgasm. The medical team realized the erotic potential of their device and took it to Jopen. Intensity was born.
The shaft of Intensity has stimulation contacts on either side. When you turn the stimulation on, electrical currents cause the pelvic floor muscles to contract involuntarily – essentially exercising the muscles for you. It feels very strange, not at all unpleasant, but kind of like small punches or ripples inside the vagina. Intensity has 10 levels of electro-stim. I never made it past the 3rd level. That was plenty intense for me!
I have to confess that I find electrical play both scary and compelling. I have a bit of a medical fetish, so I’m drawn to anything that seems procedure-like. I really get off on Intensity in that way. But I’m terrified of shocking myself in a delicate area. The instructions for Intensity are very clear that you should not turn the power on until the shaft is inserted and make sure to turn the power off before removing the device in order to avoid electrical shock. Well, they don’t say it that way, but it’s what they mean.
Before inserting Intensity, they say to put the included Electrode Gel on the stimulation contacts. My supposition is that this is in order to increase conductivity. I used it the first couple of times and I was alarmed to feel how hot my vagina was getting. I thought that it was the electrical current. Turns out, their Electrode Gel contains parabens, and I react very badly to parabens. Yuck. I would recommend using your regular lube. The shaft is large and needs a bit of lube anyway. Harold and I ran experiments on the conductivity of various lubes with a multi-meter. Using the ohm setting we were unable to measure any conductivity in either the Electrode Gel or my favorite lube. In practice, my lube worked just as well – better since it didn’t burn.
Once you have Intensity lubed up, you can gently insert the shaft into the vagina. I found that I needed to lift the clitoral stimulator (the “bunny”) up and arrange it in a good place. Then comes my favorite part, pumping it up! The shaft expands inside the vagina in order to bring the stimulation contacts closer to skin. The accordianesque shape is weird and cool. I love this idea and I haven’t ever seen a sex toy that expands like Intensity. I really enjoy the feeling of fullness. The shaft deflates with a touch of a button, allowing for easy removal.
My experience was that electrical stimulation alone wasn’t enough to get me off. That’s why Jopen added vibration for both the clitoris and the g-spot. There are 5 levels of vibration. I tended to stay around the 3rd setting. It did seem to take some positioning to get the vibration just right. The clitoris stimulation tickles or buzzes more than the deep vibration that I tend to prefer, but I was able to orgasm most of the time.
There are several features of Intensity that I particularly admire. The control panel is perfect. It is actually oriented to the woman using it. The controls are angled so that I can see the buttons while I’m using the device. I know that seems like a small thing, but so many sex toys have inconvenient and non-intuitive controls! I appreciate that the power button is easy to access. Being able to turn the whole thing off with a single button is necessary because my orgasms were so intense that I needed Intensity to stop as soon as I started coming. Also, you never know when you might be interrupted. And I have that fear of being shocked. I also like that the electrical stimulation (marked S) and the vibration (marked V) are controlled independently. I wanted to explore the stimulation for a while before adding vibration. Another feature I like is the way the batteries are inserted: There’s a threaded plug like on a hot water bottle, which unscrews so that 4 AAA batteries can be inserted one at a time, positive end down. It’s an elegant, user-friendly design.
Intensity can be washed with soap and water or the toy cleaner of your choice. This is a toy that cannot be immersed in water, so I feel very cautious. Unfortunately, it is toy that get dirty very easily. The accordion folds of the pump trap lube and secretions and the silicone seems to pick up every bit of stray lint in the vicinity. It may be best to wash carefully both before and after each use.
This vibrator is pretty amazing. Intensity has some good things going for it. It turned me on, but it didn’t always get me off, I think because I wasn’t getting my brain involved in some fantasy to go with what my body was doing. I can’t say for sure if Intensity will improve all of my orgasms, but it makes sense that exercising the pelvic floor muscles this way could have health and sex benefits. Intensity is pricey at $250, but likely worth it for many people considering those potential benefits. I just wish it came in black – it totally doesn’t match my wardrobe or my bedroom.
Bottom line: interesting sex toy that has the potential to be life changing for women with weak pelvic floor muscles.
Grade: B+
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Nothing is as iconic to kinky sex as a simple cock ring. It brings to my mind images of massively erect men ready to fuck for hours. Cock rings are to virility as lipstick is to bombshells, right? It’s a good fantasy, but I had never tried a cock ring with my partner until Babeland sent me the Ophoria v-ring. I admit, I was a little disappointed that it didn’t give him 12 inches. The back of my mind was hoping that a cock ring would equal a porn star erection. It doesn’t, but it does seem to add some fun interest to your sex play.
Ophoria is baby blue, velvety soft silicone with a vibrating bullet that fits snugly into a sleeve on one side. The bullet comes out in order to wash the ring and uses micro button batteries. The batteries are supposed to last about 40 minutes, but the great thing is that Ophoria comes 2 extra sets of batteries! You can also swap out the bullet for a different one if you want more intensity.
Condoms can be used with this product – they just go on first. We applied Ophoria when Harold was semi-erect. I pulled his scrotum through first, then pulled his cock through, so the cock ring circled the base of his penis and balls. Harold found Ophoria to be comfortable. The first time we tried it, we put the vibrating bullet up top, where it would stimulate my clitoris. I hated it. I was on top and bouncing against it hurt rather than titillated. It might feel better with him on top, but I didn’t like the little protruding knobs – I’m too sensitive. The second time, we turned the vibrations under his balls. He seemed to really like the extra sensation.
Cock rings are supposed to help trap blood in the cock in order to improve and extend erections. Does it work? I think so. Harold was not sold, his previous experiments with cock rings had not had the outcome he was hoping for. I felt that his erections were harder and that he orgasmed more explosively. If nothing else, it’s an inexpensive way to experiment with an erection. It’s almost always fun to try something new. Ophoria can even be used in strap-on sex to hold that bullet in place!
The product itself seems to be top quality. I’m impressed with the design and the manufacturing. While it may not be something I we use often, I think it’s a great toy to add to my collection.
Bottom line: Good clean fun, worth every penny.
Grade: B+
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Sugar Butch & Butcher
Last night I was privileged to attend a workshop at the CSPC in Seattle called “Owning Your Birthday Suit: Embodiment for Queers,” facilitated by Sinclair Sexsmith (of Sugarbutch) and Amy Butcher. It was designed to be a safe space for kinksters, freaks, and sexual outlaws to explore the powerful connection between genitals, heart, and mind. This workshop borrowed principles from Tantra and The Body Electric, in both of which the presenters have a strong background. As serious and hardcore as this all sounds, I had a lot of fun.
The bulk of our time was spent on experiential exercises. With a different partner each time, we explored eye contact, saying no, giving an authentic yes/no answer, feeling where energy is blocked in our bodies, sensing where the erotic lives in the body, our genital/heart connection, and connection to each other. We experimented with asking for touch that we wanted then receiving it, as well as giving touch to someone else in the manner they desired.
Sinclair and Amy suggested that erotic play could be approached as a series of experiments, with no commitment to outcomes. I love this! This is totally how I handle sex. It’s so much less stressful to simply try something out to see how it works. Approaching new things this way has opened up many doors for me that I might not have otherwise explored.
I also liked their many suggestions for ways to be mindful or embodied. Things like, breathe and go outdoors. I think staying connected to life helps in staying connected to the erotic. Also, daily meditative practice. Which can include mindful masturbation. I can get behind that!
All night long, the back of my brain has been assimilating everything I learned at this workshop. We drove directly home, discussing the experience on the way, then we went right to bed. I thought about what my body wanted and asked Harold to hold me, rather than getting into my side of the bed. I tumbled into his arms and burst into tears. It was the culmination of a full day, with difficult medical procedures early on, but also just the sheer kindness of being held. Harold holding that space for me and giving me the touch I needed, opened me up to release the sadness I had been holding in my body. I felt that I was truly owning my birthday suit.
In the middle of the night I lay awake thinking about how much embodiment informs my parenting style. There are so many things that parents must say no to for safety reasons: no, don’t touch the hot stove; no, don’t poke your brother with that stick; no, you can’t sleep over at your friend’s house because her parents are alcoholic and abusive. I try to think of all of the ways that I can say yes. Maybe I can let my children help me come up with alternatives that are acceptable to everyone: wow, feel how hot the stove is from here; let’s sword-fight with sticks instead of poking; why don’t we have your friend come over here? I want my children to really listen when I have to say no. The rest of the time, I want them to feel that they own themselves.
This plays into mindfulness in parenting. Mindfulness is really being present in the moment – awareness. I realize that I am very busy and tend to start ordering things around my children, without really seeing them. So, I mindfully practice embodiment by spending time with each child, every day by meeting them where they are. It’s not always easy. I tend to want to think about a work problem rather than making the elephant talk or hearing about what elves do, but my children are really interesting people. They deserve my consciousness. This means that I love and accept them (and give them attention) for who they are.
Embodiment also affects my parenting in terms of physical affection. My children know that they own their bodies in a way that I did not. They ask for touch that they want: give me a hug, blow on my tummy, kiss my owie. And my kids feel comfortable telling me no: aw, Mom, stop hugging me! Sometimes they suggest something else: Momma, you can pat my back. On my part, I work to not endure touch that is uncomfortable for me. For example, when the little one needs to be held in the middle of the night, I happily give my love, but I also make sure that I am comfortable. I don’t need a crick in my neck or a sore back.
I guess all of this parenting stuff is alive for me because if we all grew up knowing that our bodies belong to us, without shame for our sexuality, that we could say yes or no as we desired, feeling in our bones that we are worthy of respect – would we need workshops like the one I attended last night? The term birthday suit reminds us that we are born in perfection. It’s all of the things that wound us as children that take the rest of our lives to unlearn. I’ve spent my entire adult life working on owning my birthday suit, yet I continually learn more. It was an amazing workshop. I just want to be carrying this message forward.
Owning Your Birthday Suit: Embodiment for Queers is really just the briefest of introductions to a whole world of erotic study, but I feel that Sinclair and Amy did a fabulous job at making it fun, relevant, and accessible. This queer grrrl is feeling both embodied and empowered.
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For erotica, I’ve become a big fan of Cleis Press. I’m especially impressed with Rachel Kramer Bussel, both as an editor and as a writer. So I was curious to read Best Sex Writing 2012, never having read one of these annual compilations of what people have been writing about sex. The fact that Susie Bright was a guest judge and wrote the introduction is icing on the cake!
I’m impressed. Not all of the articles appealed to me – I even disliked a couple of them, but every one of them inspired thought. Every voice had something provocative to say in the realm of sexuality. This is not erotica. These pieces are brilliant reporting, touching memoirs, and humorous expositions. This book engaged my brain – sometimes my heart, and occasionally my libido.
It’s hard to pick out my favorites. They tend to be the more personal pieces that touch my emotions and perspectives that are very different from my own. The book is excellent as a whole, but here are a few of what I consider the best essays:
“I Want You to Want Me” by Hugo Schwyzer discusses men’s longing to be admired. I’ve heard many of my partners express this exact desire, feeling that it is somehow disgusting or repulsive to be male and wanting on a deep level to be cherished, but this is the first writing I’ve seen on the subject. I found it very honest and brave.
“Grief, Resilience, and My 66th Birthday Gift” by Joan Price describes the loss of her great love to cancer and her journey out of grief back into being a sexual person. I was moved to tears because I can so easily imagine myself in the same situation. I also was impressed by her courage in writing about the sexuality of people over 60, which I don’t see often, and her frank discussion of buying sexual services as a tool for healing.
“Guys Who Like Fat Chicks” by Camille Dodero focuses on men who fetishize overweight women, but it says interesting things about why certain things turn certain people on. It’s often hard to say why we fixate sexually on particular things. This is fantastic reporting on an under-represented group.
“Adrian’s Penis: Care and Handling” by Adrian Colesberry is a humorous look at what it is to have a penis. Despite my reservations about someone who speaks of themselves (and their penis) in the third person and writes excessive footnotes, I appreciate what he says about being male. I think there are so many misconceptions about erections in our culture – how easy it is to get hard and come. I’m happy to see an open discussion about what’s normal for this man.
“Love Grenade” by Lidia Yuknavitch is a beautifully bittersweet ode to women she made love with during grad school. She manages to capture perfectly the tone of a lost weekend. Her descriptions of the people and activities are hot, but what really gets to me is the feelings I’m left with. It’s brilliant.
There are so many more I could mention, tackling topics like circumcision, dating with STDs, slut shaming, the criminalization of teen sex, poor reporting of sex and sex violence, and Latina transwomen performing in drag shows. Collectively, these essays please me. It means that there are a lot of people out there starting the conversations that I think we should be having. Many of these conversations happen on the internet, but I would totally recommend this book for an insightful overview of the year’s highlights in sex!
This morning I had a flash of inspiration, when I realized that something I’ve worked on for years in my sex life would really benefit me in general. I guess sex and life really are intimately related. Basically, I’ve been meditating on being present, being here now.
Even during sex, being present can be difficult. I struggle with letting go of the past. Occasionally flashbacks hijack my experience. I try to acknowledge the feelings and remind myself that I am no longer trapped in that situation. I don’t have to respond as I would have in the distant past, or yesterday. This is so huge – I can affirm that as a constantly evolving person, what really matters is not then, but right now.
The future is even harder to come to terms with than the past, though. If I’m thinking of initiating sex, I worry about all of the things I ought to be doing instead. My everyday worries rob me of the joys to be had right now. Even when making love, thinking too much about what comes next can put a damper on my pleasure. I find that I only truly lose myself in sex when I am wholly in the moment, not limited by who I was or who I think I ought to be.
I’ve worked on being present during sex for years. I think it’s why I’ve been able to enjoy myself so much. So why haven’t I seen that the same concept could be applied to every other aspect of my life? I find myself constantly focused on next steps rather than where I’m at. That can be helpful, but not if I can’t let myself be happy now. Not if it is a distancing technique.
The main thing for me today is that I feel bad over things that are in the past, from childhood abuse to the fight that Harold and I had a few nights ago. Everything is basically resolved, but I’m holding on to the emotions. The events are sticky. I need to remember that I am not a child, not a partner with hurt feelings. Those things are part of my past – they contribute to the person I am – but I am constantly expanding. Everything I experience makes me bigger and gives me more resources with which to act in the world.
Related to this idea is the concept of forgiveness, something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I finally understand that forgiving someone is something you do for yourself, not them. Forgiving a person means you can let go of the sticky parts – whatever that person did to you can’t hurt you any more. Forgiveness means you can be present in the now.
It’s woo-woo, but I’m finding it helpful. Remembered hurts and the fear of future pain can sometimes distract me from everything else, which is sad when I’m surrounded by beauty and joy. The next time I’m feeling stuck and struggly, during sex or otherwise, I am going to breath deeply and remind myself to be here now.
Sex is a place where I can snuggle down and feel warm and good. Sex is where I let myself go wild, rejecting outside rules that people try to impose on me. Sex is the intense moment where I lose all sense of myself and surrender to whoever I’m making love with. Sex is deeply private and full of personal revelation – a venture into the world of spirit. Sex is the gift I give to my partners and to myself.
I’m under a lot of stress right now. It’s easy to feel bad. Even easier to be looking for escape. I’ve broken most of my bad habits. I’ve had to figure out healthy ways of dealing. Sex is at the top of my list of coping mechanisms. There are so many benefits to sex: it feels fantastic, it’s good exercise, I forget about my troubles for a while, I get to connect with my partner, and I can’t help being who I really am when I get into my body for sex. Sex reminds me to be my higher self.
Sex is occasionally a challenge for me. It can be difficult for me to let go of my worries, make my brain stop looping. At times it’s hard to be trusting and to open up to my partner. I can get caught up in the physical aspects of sex and then ignore my emotional needs and then sex feels empty and achey. I even have flashbacks of abuse in the middle of sex, but that’s thankfully rare now. Sex is not necessarily easy, but even so, sex is worth the effort.
I like having sex. I manage to have sex with others 2 or 3 times a week on average. It would be great to have more sex, but the reality is that I can only fit in that much sex, usually. I masturbate as time allows – maybe once a day – because it’s easier than hooking up with one or both of my guys. So you can get an idea of how stressed I am when I say that I’ve had sex with a partner once or twice a day, every day this week. Not that I’m complaining!
I feel a lot more grounded after fucking. I tend to be relaxed and recharged, ready to tackle the world again. Or, sometimes, ready to go to sleep – but that’s also a blessing. It can be hard to fall asleep when I’ve got all kinds of things running around in my mind. Sex is my favorite soporific.
Sex is good for so many things. Sex is my health and wellness solution. (Sex is also my fitness plan! All you have to do is keep your heart rate up, right?) I’m glad that I have sex as an option as I move through a struggley time. This time of year can be difficult, but sex helps me to hold onto the joy. Sex is awesome!
I’ve gone over a week without posting, which hasn’t happened for a long time. It’s a combination of factors, like having a bad cold, working on other projects, and generally feeling bad about myself. But there have been some sexy moments…
For the first time, I got to photograph a couple making love. It was an incredible experience. I went into the photo shoot without expectations, but certainly hoping that they would feel comfortable enough to be intimate together. I feel very honored that they trusted me enough that they could follow their desire where it led. I tried to create a safe space and I’m pleased that it worked. It’s actually very hard work to take photos over an hours-long shoot. I kept thinking that it’s so much easier for me to be in front of the lens having sex! I’m still struggling to figure out the technical aspects of photography so I was disappointed in the overall quality of the results, but there are some shots that I really love. An erotic photo shoot is quite a creative rush. My models were amazing! If they decide they are comfortable with publishing any of these pics, I will certainly share. I’m hoping to practice more photography in the near future, so if you are in the Seattle area and want to model, drop me a line.
I spent an evening cuddling in bed with Joel and giggling about a few R&B/Blues songs by the light of the Yule tree. I adore nasty blues and these are great. The first one was Denise LaSalle singing “Lick it before you stick it,” with great lyrics like, ”You’re makin’ her feel good, but you can make her feel better/ If you treat your lady like a stamp and a letter/Lick it/Before you stick it” and advises men to “find the little man in the boat.” Then there’s “Strokin’,” by Clarence Carter with these lyrics, “I remember one time I made love/On the back seat of a car/An’ the police came an’ shined/His light on me, an’ I said/I’m strokin’/That’s what I’m doin’/I be strokin’.” And finally, Barbara Carr with, “If you really want to please me/You know you’ve got to stake your claim/And make hot love to me boy/’til I want to wear your name” from a song with the best title ever, “Bone me like you own me.” I so enjoy that these songs are strongly about owning your sexuality and prioritizing pleasure.
I’ve been masturbating a fair amount – sometimes testing out products that I’ll be reviewing this month, sometimes just to spend quality time with myself. I end up touching myself when I’m in the shower or alone in bed. It helps me to feel focused and grounded. I love drawing out the orgasms and playing with sensations. I also think that it’s easier right now to be with myself than to be with other people. I’m just more inwardly focused.
Which isn’t to say that I haven’t had sex with other people. Harold and I had some heavy foreplay going on one evening, but the wee one’s stamina was greater than ours. We all snuggled in to sleep instead of fucking. It was nice to be cozy, but I still fell asleep wanting more and feeling lonely. Thankfully, Harold and I had a date the next day.
Our date sex was fairly simple. We had sexted about all of the kinky things we wanted to do to each other, but when it came down to it, our love making was about intimate touch and making out. There was some power exchange. I kept him pinned while I caressed him with my nipples and kissed him all over. It’s totally hot to use my whole body 
to bring pleasure. The really amazing thing is that I’m currently menstruating so we got blood everywhere. I know that some people are squeamish about menstrual blood, but I love it. We got blood all over my thighs and Harold’s cock, balls, and hands. Beautiful!
Like most people, right now I’m struggling to balance home, work, family, and self-care with the holidays tossed in for extra fun. It’s actually going fine, but I want to make sure that sex stays on the list. In reality, sex is so much a part of who I am that I’m not really worried. More important than sex, is love. I am lucky to have so much love in my life. I think that’s my lesson for the holidays – letting the light of love fill me up. Even the places where I don’t love myself.
