May in my neck of the woods means lots and lots of mud. It’s a surer sign of spring than flowers. Flowers are a sign of burgeoning fertility to be sure, but I always get an intense urge to fuck in the mud. I have fantasies about ancient pagan rites of rutting in the fields to make the crops grow stronger, or to ask the Gods to bless our lands. Mud is like the blood of the earth and I want to be wild in it. I want to fuck like animals.
The problem with the Cascade Foothills is that it’s still pretty cold at the beginning of May, but we found a way for me to frolic in the mud anyway. We built a fire in the cabin so I could go and warm up as soon as we were done, and we were quick. We had awesome amazing sex with my back arched and my feet on his shoulders, then we smeared dirt all over and took pictures.
I don’t normally like to get dirty, but something about mud is so intriguing. I didn’t feel naked while covered in blood, I felt armored – tough, primal, and bestial, but also vulnerable. Mud is eternal. Fucking in the mud tends to celebrate the things that I fear about sex:
- It’s messy. I like sloppy sex, but I’m also fastidious about keeping everything clean. With mud, you can’t control the mess. I want to make sure that I feel dirty in a good way.
- I’m exposed. Being naked outdoors is an experience that takes some getting used to. More than that, much like good sex, being covered in mud made me feel like my soul was showing.
- I lose my sense of self. Usually I like letting go, but it can also be alarming. Wearing mud gave me moments of feeling other than human, but I also got to experience some kick-ass mojo.
I feel pretty earthy now. The dirt has certainly thawed and come alive. Spring is well sprung. I feel good with having done my part to quicken the earth, reveling in the May mud.
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I’m feeling Spring in my body. This morning I went for a 4 mile walk. It was brisk, but I could see signs of returning life all along the trail – lush moss, tiny flower buds emerging, pale green leaves bravely opening to the light rain. It was still fairly early in the morning and the air itself seemed full of promise. That’s Spring – a promise of things to come. Life ready to explode into action. In other words, Spring is all about sex.
I feel Spring physically. For the past week my pussy has been wet all of the time. I’m ready for all of these things that are coming. This morning I felt so good that I took my clothes off and spent some time naked on the trail. It was magical. I still feel fresh and renewed. Almost like there is some secret to the morning that you can only feel with your flesh.
It didn’t end there though. I came home and Joel did his best to warm my chilled ass cheeks. One thing led to another and we ended up fucking in the shower, warm mist swirling around us. A hard man is good to find, but it was the shower head and some intense nipple stimulation that made me come. I feel full of love.
Not everything about Spring is good. All the pollen from the trees having sex is wreaking havoc with Joel’s allergies. Some days he can barely open his eyes. I’ve been having a struggle with depression and anxiety, but getting out this morning is helping me to feel more hope. And that’s what Spring is about for me – the hope of a brighter future, the power of life as manifested through sex, and knowing that everything is getting ready to change.
Happy Spring everyone!
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Seattle was hit with what amounts to a serious snow storm (for this area) last week. Our power was out for nearly 100 hours, with over a foot of snow and trees and branches falling everywhere because of the ice. We’re not used to this kind of wintery weather. Especially when we lost the water and land line at my house.
Our poly family lives in 2 houses. We are basically prepared for adverse conditions, provided we share resources. We ended up at Harold and Melanie’s house because they have a fireplace, a generator, and working water. We actually did very well. The hard part is keeping children busy for long hours. At the end of the day, I was relieved to burrow under the covers and roll around in bed with Joel. It was under these circumstances that I tried out California Exotics l’Amour Premium Power Pack 8-Speed Bullet.
Under mountains of wool blankets and down comforters, I warmed myself up with my favorite vibrator on my clit. Then I inserted the bullet part of l’Amour Premium Power Pack. It’s very smooth and a good shape and size for internal use. A cord attaches it to the controller. It’s easy to use, with only two buttons. I don’t like that you have to go through all 8 speeds to turn the bullet off. The “power pack” takes four AAA batteries. It really is fairly powerful. I’m not sure why it needs so many speeds. It’s true that each increase in speed ramps up the intensity. It’s also pretty loud. Joel and I could hear it under all of those blankets (and inside me), sounding like a jet getting ready for take-off. The lower speeds seem gratuitous.
Unfortunately, I am not a person for whom internal vibes work well. Maybe it’s my anatomy – my uterus tips back instead of forward. I tried to find a good position, but I mostly just felt like it was vibrating my rectum. I added my favorite vibrator back into the mix. Coming took much longer than normal, but I did eventually orgasm, and having the bullet inside me made coming more intense.
Ultimately, this is not the toy I would chose to use internally. It works okay, but I don’t like having the cord and controller. It also doesn’t get anywhere near my g-spot, which is my preference. It is definitely not a toy to be shared since it is impossible to sterilize. This bullet was interesting foreplay for a snow day, but I prefer the warmth of Joel’s arms. L’Amour Premium Power Pack 8-Speed Bullet doesn’t rate a place in my sex kit.
Bottom Line: An adequate, but unexceptional internal bullet vibe.
Grade: C
I’m floating in warm water, my limbs entwined in his. Above us are tree limbs and blue sky. Nearby the river cascades past with lots of spray and froth. The rushing noise it makes is a soothing soundtrack. His fingers glide across my bare flesh, covertly ending at my nipples. My desire ratchets up a notch. I look into his eyes, knowing that he sees my reaction to his touch. We’re hardly aware of the man next to us in the hot springs, but the intensity of our connection must make him uncomfortable because he gets out.
We let the hot springs relax us. We massage the knots out of each other’s shoulders. We talk and kiss, making love in a slow, unfocused manner. I want him in a way that reaches through my cunt, through my feet, deep into the rock of the cave we are in, as though we are making love for the earth itself. In full view of everyone at the hot springs, but not making a big deal of it, I knead his balls with my foot. I progress to rubbing his cock between my toes. Then I am leaning against him, caressing his dick with one hand while I bend over in front of him. He traces the lines of my vulva, feeling how slick I am there. I know that the caretaker is right behind us. The thought of him watching us turns me on even more. He politely moves past us.
I am getting off on how much we can do to each other with people all around. They can’t really tell what we are doing. We are quiet, but totally absorbed in each other. I suck at his lips and tongue, wanting his cock. He seems to understand because he suggests that I sit on the ledge so he can lick my pussy, but it feels too blatant. We talk some more and unwind some more. I’m thinking of going off into the woods to fuck. I want to be bent over and boned hard. I want his fingers to dig into my hips and my breasts to slap against my face. But it’s really cold. Finally all the other guests get ready to leave.
I am fantasizing about how we will have sex, when another woman shows up. She’s obviously in her own world, unconcerned with us. I think that we might go to the back of the cave to fuck, but he is too hot. We move down to a cooler pool. I am at that place beyond teasing that quickly becomes totally frustrated. I am near tears with wanting. It feels like I will never again have an orgasm. I float on my stomach next to him, while he rubs my clit. It feels amazing. I don’t come, but I am greatly reassured. I love him so much.
We move to a slightly warmer pool. I tell him to keep a look out and I put my head in his lap. I squeeze his balls and suck his cock. I so enjoy the sounds that he makes and the looks on his face that I manage to see. The warm water cradles us both as he stiffens in my mouth. His fingers reach around my ass to get to my slippery cunt. The danger of someone seeing us excites me. The strange woman is still in the cave.
We go down to the lower pool. He insists on pulling my pussy over to him so he can lick it. Seeing my thatch in his face looks beautiful and I wish I had my camera, but I’m not about to stop him. The other guest gets out for a moment then goes back up. We stop for that, but then I’m serious about fucking.
We come together in the water. Somehow I end up on top. The moment that he enters me is sheer bliss. I have been aching for this. I tighten all of my vaginal muscles to let him know I care. We move back and forth in the water, where movement is muted. The woman coughs loudly several times as though to tell us that she can see us, but I don’t care. It’s not obvious that we are having intercourse anyway. We are holding each other’s faces as we revel in the sensation and connection. I am in love, love, love.
And then the lubrication gives out. It still feels fantastic, but I can tell that it’s starting to chafe. It’s not worth going on. Fucking in the water is often problematic. We stop moving (mostly), but he stays inside me. It’s glorious. It feels like the center of everything.
Sadly, we need to go. I briefly consider the cabana, but we need to make our way back to civilization. Perhaps we can fuck in the car. Regardless, I am feeling relaxed and recharged. I look forward to the orgasms that are sure to come.
While Harold is gone for a few days, I am thinking a lot about him. I’m thinking about all of the really hot and sexy things we’ve done together and fantasizing about the things we haven’t done yet. The things that push us past our comfort, but turn us on like crazy. I want him so much. I want the things that scare us as well as all the lovely things that we enjoy together every time. I want everything. Today I am spinning a fantasy out of our desire, both tested and untried…
We are enjoying dinner together at our favorite restaurant. We’ve both dressed up a bit, as though for a special occasion. You’re laughing at something I’ve said. Your hand rests on top of mine. I look into your eyes and see how much you love me. I feel warm and happy. You smile and say, “I’m going to fuck you.”
I’m suddenly aware of the wetness between my legs. I press my palms against my legs. Through my napkin and my skirt I can feel my garter straps against my thighs. I want to touch my clit. I decide to go to the bathroom. You look at me with some amusement as I place my napkin on the table. “Bring me your panties,” you say, as though you know exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m a bit shocked, but also intrigued. I stand up carefully and step over to your side of the table. I bend to kiss you, aware that I am flashing the tops of my stockings to the gentlemen at the table behind us. It’s a long kiss, full of lust and tongue. After, I whisper in your ear, “You can have my panties, but only if you wear them.”
I sashay toward the restrooms. They are off a dim hallway, across from the abandoned coat-check. The ladies’ room is first and thankfully empty. I go in and lock the door. My hands run over my breasts and down my hips. I hike up my skirt and slide my fingers under my panties, finding my clitoris with my first two fingers. I lean against the door, breathing hard and thinking of how much I love you. My body is rigid, close to orgasm, when someone knocks on the door. Damn.
I quickly slide my underwear off and shove it in my purse. I smooth down my skirt. I flush the toilet for good measure. I wish that I were having an orgasm. I open the door. There’s no one there. Then I notice you back in the coats.
“You interrupted before I was done!” I accuse, but you don’t care. You press my back against the wall. Your hand holds the back of my neck, firm with your fingers in my hair. I want to argue, but I’m melting into you. I want you to kiss me so bad. But you don’t. Your other hand lightly traces my arm from bare shoulder to wrist. I’m pinned by your gaze. You cup my ass and pull me up against you. I can feel your erection. Finally you kiss me. I’m losing all sense of self. There is only this desire. And your tongue probing my mouth while you hold me tight.
You could fuck me right here and I would be happy, but I know that someone is bound to come by at any moment. Besides, I want to torment you some more. I grab hold of your balls through your slacks and squeeze. Your knees buckle a bit and you groan, but keep kissing me. I love you so incredibly much. I break off and push you back. “I have something for you Darling, “ I say as I pull my panties out of my purse, “Go put these on, I’ll take care of the check.”
You look at me for a moment, then take the lacy underwear and turn toward the men’s room. I’m waiting by the front door when you walk out. I wonder if anyone but me can tell that you are walking a little funny. I love knowing that you are secretly wearing my lingerie. I’m so turned on that each step to the car threatens to make me come.
Once in the car, you head for home. I’m quiet, thinking about who might get tied up when we get there. You put your hand on my knee, but it wanders up my thigh to my cunt. Soon my skirt is pulled up and once we’re on the freeway, your fingers are either buried in my cunt or rubbing my clit. I lean the seat back and let go. Soon I am moaning in pleasure as I finally find release, rocking against your hand. I watch as you lick your fingers.
Of course I’m going to return the favor. I unzip your pants and slip my hand inside, running my fingers over the hardness of your erection under the lace of my panties. I pull your cock out and pump up and down a few times, liking your reaction. I lean over and put my head in your lap. I lick the head of your cock, favoring the sensitive frenulum. Then I slowly take the whole thing in my mouth, as deep as it will go. I hope that you can still focus on driving, but I don’t want to wait until we get home.
I am focused on giving you the best blowjob ever, so I don’t notice at first that we are slowing down. When I pop my head up to see what’s going on, I’m not sure where we are. It appears to be a deserted dead-end road with a park. There’s only one streetlight, but the moon is full and bright. You drive to the end and park the car.
I think that we might just fuck here in the car, but you tell me to get out. You come around to my side of the car and carefully remove my heels, stockings, and garter belt. You kiss me again, deeply. “Now run,” you say.
I’m confused. Run? You nod toward the park and start to remove your own shoes. I laugh, perhaps with an edge of hysteria, and start to half-heartedly jog. After 20 paces I stop and look back. You are just removing your pants. I see you start after me and I run more seriously.
I race across the grass, dodging branches and ferns. I feel my limbs go liquid, so that I seem to be gliding across the ground. I feel animal. I am chased. I love it. You are a beast come to take me. I run deeper into the brush.
I’m not sure how you manage it, but you circle to the side and surprise me. You leap onto me, taking me down. We roll together, landing in a pile of leaves. You are on me instantly, flipping me face down and plunging your cock into me. We are both grunting and howling. I exist only for the thrill of each thrust, for the rhythm of our mating.
I feel you so deeply and intimately. I can tell your orgasm is building to match mine. We get closer and closer with each thrust. You are fucking me so hard. I love how wild and savage we are. Suddenly your yell fills the night and I am coming with you. We are rocking together with the fierce joy of the moment and declaring our passion for the world to hear. We have claimed each other and been taken.
We murmur soft lover’s words to each other as we pick leaves from our hair, animal grooming for animals in love. Slowly we find our feet again and make our way back to the car, arms wound around each other. We put our clothes back on, grinning at each other foolishly. We climb into the car and I think again about who gets tied up when we get home.
The Autumn leaves are gorgeous. I noticed them in all of their unique fiery glory this morning while I was walking. I want to collect them – pick them up and take them home, but I know that they won’t look as nice after a day or two. They look better outside. Each day offers a fresh beauty. In a month I will admire the bare branches stark against the sky. In two months, perhaps snow. Nature is always offering me her best face. I see beauty everywhere. Yet it is a beauty that is impossible to hold onto.
Human beauty is like that too. The leaves had me thinking about myself while I walked, about my body image. I tend to focus on some time before or after now as a time that I have been or will be more attractive than now. I was very proud of my body as a young woman. After having children I worried that my breast sagged too much, or that I was too heavy. I wanted my pre-baby body back and judged myself by society’s standards of young beauty. I see now that my transformed body was simply the changing of the season. A different kind a beauty – one of lush fullness and fertility. Today I noticed, for the first time, that there are lines by my eyes when I really smile. It’s another kind of passage, one of having lived and known joy.
I realize that it’s like noticing the leaves and seeing the beauty of today. I want to stop judging my own beauty based on what I should look like and instead stay open to experiencing what is beautiful about me today. I may still want to lose 15 pounds and I may need a haircut, but today there is a sparkle in my eyes and something playful in my manner. It shines through. Tomorrow will be something new, a fresh beauty.
Sometimes I just become aware of something I love about my body – like the hollow of my knee when it’s bent or the curve of my breast near the armpit. I experience love for myself in small ways. It helps that we take so many pictures for the website. I get to see myself in new ways. In a few years I will look different and I will have these photos of now to remind me of the beauty that is today. Life is always about catching a perfect moment as it passes. I won’t regret the loss of today’s beauty because I know that tomorrow brings new wonders.
As much as I like spending time in bed, I’m not good at staying in bed all day doing nothing. I’ve been sick. The combination of a cold, allergies, and an asthma flare-up have me a bit breathless. In bed all day and breathless is fantastic for sex, but not so great when I’m not feeling well. It’s hard to even think clearly. Thankfully, I have some nice things to think about, building interest for later…
Like Joel and me going to a nice Jazz Club for dinner. We went to Boxley’s in North Bend, WA a few nights ago, at the recommendation of our friend, Girl in Jet City. Wow! I was really impressed by the caliber of the live music for it being in such a small town. According to Boxley’s website, they were voted one of the 150 best jazz clubs in the world by Downbeat Magazine. I love jazz! The music started shortly after Joel and I were seated. I just filled with joy. Joel was less enthusiastic. We have very different tastes. Joel listens to country music. He even goes to Walmart to buy it. I would never give Walmart my patronage. Joel drinks Coke Zero. I tend to drink Perrier or water with lemon. Joel plays computer games. My hobbies tend toward sex toys and conquering the world. Yet somehow, we are good together. And we ended up having a lovely dinner, listening to very good jazz.
And before I got sick, Harold and I did a day-hike pilgrimage to Goldmyer Hot Springs, which I wrote about a few months ago here. We walked a total of 11 miles and spent 3 hours soaking in the hot springs. It was deeply healing emotionally and spiritually. I cannot stress enough how magical this place is. And Harold and I took the opportunity to leave the trail and find a little hollow in the woods where we made love. We discovered that hiking shoes make for pretty intense ball kicking! There is something very sweet about lying down on the forest floor with my lover, canopies of green above us, the air fresh and clean, and life all around.
Unfortunately, I started to not feel well as we finished our hike, and it expanded into full melt-down by the time we got home. It has made for a week of disinterest in sex. It’s hard to kiss or go down on my guys when I can’t breath. I’m not really in my body when I don’t feel good. I briefly considered masturbating on my evening alone, but couldn’t summon the energy or interest to make that happen. I’ve just been in bed feeling blah. In fact, I think I just tried to exchange my husband’s promise of oral sex for his attention to the housework. Really? Is help with housework better than oral sex? It is right now, but thankfully, he says I can have both!
I am getting better. Steroids are helping me breath better and the mucus has receded. I’m taking care of my body. I’m resting, which is really hard for me! Both of my partners had erotic dreams last night, and somehow I feel like that’s helping to hold the space for me. I can think happy thoughts, recuperate, and all of that lust will be accruing interest for when I’m well again. I can’t wait!
I’m getting away to the ocean for a couple of nights. Harold and I are going to stay in a nice little cabin. I need this time so much. I’m at maximum stress and I think the next stop for this runaway train is an ulcer or cardiac arrest or some such. I want to carry on a conversation and not have it be interrupted every other sentence. I could even stand to discuss adult topics – like politics and religion! I need to soothe my soul, so that means the ocean.
In typical, overachiever fashion, I am packing for every eventuality. I want to be prepared for whatever comes. Really, it’s an anxiety reaction – if I worry about it now, I won’t worry about it later. And instead of thinking about relaxing, I’m thinking about work and how much work I can get done while I’m gone. Problem is, my job involves sex. And I want to have sex. (You can see how things go around in my head as I pack.)
I have my clothes ready. I packed the lingerie first. We might want to shoot some lingerie pics, right? I have my jogging clothes because I will go running, right? And my swim suit because it’s the beach. It might be nice out for once. I also have regular clothes, but the reality is that I will probably be naked for most of the weekend. I even packed some makeup, including some new purple stuff that I haven’t had a chance to play with yet.
I want to make sure we have enough food, or at least the important things like sulfite-free wine, Perrier, and Via coffee packets. Fresh fruits and veggies, chocolate, and tofu also top my list.
I have my cameras and gear, including tripods. We could decide to make sexy movies. I have my briefcase with my sketchpad and pencils and pens. I have my laptop, phone, and charging cables. There might be wifi. Then I could post real time erotic updates!
And of course we have the sex toys. I have my normal compliment plus the enema bag, the new njoy Pfun Wand, and the Wahl plug-in vibrator. I’m anticipating a fair amount of anal play over the weekend. And orgasms. That would certainly help the relaxation process, but I’ve noticed that it’s harder to be in the mood when I’m all wound up.
So the main thing will be just spending time by the ocean, not thinking. I’m going to dig my toes in the sand, let the wind tangle my hair, feel the salt sting my skin. I’m going to let my mind drift with the tides until the waves bring me back to myself. Once I can be in my body without emotional pain and anxiety overwhelming me, then I will consider having sex. To recap: first be calm in the body, then wild rumpus around the cabin. I think I’ve got it. I may not need any props at all.
Paradise is a place on earth and it’s called Goldmyer Hot Springs. Harold and I just went, along with my 14-year-old daughter. The only way to get there is to hike in 4.5 miles with everything you need in a backpack. Once you get to Goldmyer, it’s a mile-long uphill trek to the hot springs – a series of shallow pools facing a gorgeous and energetic waterfall. Old-growth forest, lush greenery, and an abundance of wildlife surround you. And many of the people there are naked.
It really is my idea of heaven. I like the challenge of packing for the trip. Weight matters, but you want to have everything you will need. I enjoy pushing myself to do the hike with my pack. The last time Harold and I went, it was a 10 mile hike each way, so this trip seemed easy. Setting up a tidy camp pleases me. It’s amazing how our cozy camp home emerged out of our bags. Then we headed for the hot springs, feeling light as air without our packs.
I joyfully stripped out of my clothes and found a spot in the cooler pool. There were more people at Goldmyer than I have ever seen before. Fourth of July weekend is busy. Clothing is optional, so nudity is accepted. I love being naked in nature, so I’m curious why people choose to wear swimsuits. I do understand body issues coming up. For me, I’ve lost 28 pounds in the past 5 months and my body is at a weird place. Places where I used to be rounded are now flabby. I haven’t lost weight uniformly. I feel blobby and the pictures we took make me look worse than I feel. I usually feel great in my body. Why doesn’t my body look as sexy as I feel? Why are my stretch marks so prominent?
You know what? I didn’t care about any of those things when I got into the hot springs.
I know that everyone there was checking me out. I was looking at everyone else, swimsuit or no. For the first few minutes, I couldn’t help but look at all the other bodies. I like bodies. Everyone there looked beautiful to me. But after a bit, I stopped noticing that people were naked. It just didn’t matter. I hope that people looked at my body favorably, that my spirit fills my body with beauty, but it doesn’t really matter. I had the experience that I wanted, naked and at peace with my surroundings.
Harold and I had a few moments alone in the pools. We stretched out, me on top of him, our mouths locked. Goldmyer is where we decided to make commitments to each other and where we went for our honeymoon. It’s a magical place, full of memories of our love for each other. The romance means a lot to me. And yes, we did make love. We even spontaneously starting fucking at dawn one morning when Harold climbed into my sleeping bag. Goldmyer cleanses my soul. 
I begin to remember how to relax. I recharge my batteries. I remember to be in love.
It seems very silent now, to be home, without the rushing river, the pools emptying into each other, or the drops of water falling from the rock face overhead as it condenses. I miss it, yet I am happy. I feel clean and refreshed. I know that I’ll be back at Goldmyer next month, this time with our other partners, Harold with Melanie and me with Joel. I look forward to sharing the love.
It’s nearly Midsummer, or the Summer Solstice, the longest day and shortest night of the year. It’s supposedly when the fairies come out to play, so we decided to throw our own Midsummer Night’s Dream Fey Revel. We became the fairies ourselves, dark or fair, as our natures called to us. Because we are wild, we both dressed up and went naked. (Seattle has a tradition of this!) Because we love each other we helped decorate each other’s bodies.
We danced out under the trees, with only firelight and moonlight to guide us. We were fierce and gentle, free and tamed, sexy and chaste, fearless and shy. We kissed, hugged, and groped. We ate and drank. And we danced all through the night…
Happy Solstice to you all…
