Come for me...

I'm feeling particularly indebted to Cyber-Sex Guy (again, we'll refer to him as CSG)...not only has he gotten me to squirt this week...he got me to break my own record of orgasms and squirting!

I really do try to be a good girl when I'm at school and talking on IM, but it doesn't always work perfectly. ;-) Particularly if I do not have anyone sitting behind me at a given moment, I tend to let me mouth (well, fingers) run a bit. CSG and I behaved very well for awhile, but inevitably we got distracted and did move slightly into naughty territory. We did get back on a safe trajectory, but it got me thinking about what I could be doing (namely getting off while he talked dirty to me) within a couple of hours of the time that class started...so I innocently (okay, that's a lie) wrote him a short little email about the fact that I was damned near squirming in my chair during class, hoping I wouldn't leave a spot (luckily the chairs are plastic with slats in the seat).

So, I told him as soon as class was done and that I would be home in 45 minutes. I had to stop at the grocery store and nearly ran a woman over (not because I was rushing, she just walked directly behind my car while I had already started backing up). I damn near ran in the house (I was dripping at this point at just the thought I would be able to get off--seriously, the man can talk dirty, really, really well), tearing my clothes off as I went and laid out a towel (what can I say? I like to be prepared!) and logged onto my MSN account.

My, my, my. I have to say I'm not the best at spur of the moment dirty talk/writing (well, I don't think so at least). I'm just more comfortable writing an email for some reason. But I do like reading it, and CSG is just so awesome about letting me enjoy myself while he types for me. I came once fairly quickly, and the second time even more quickly after the first. I gushed a little with that second one, which of course was exciting for me...but I had to rest after that.

We played around, talking through an office fantasy (mmm, one of my favorites), and before long I just had to play with myself again. I probably came hardest that time--which doesn't surprise me much because when I am in that position (on my knees, with my ass essentially in the air and my toy between my legs--it's my favorite position, I'm sort of wide open and just that feeling) I tend to come very hard. The fourth time I probably pushed it a bit hard, but I did gush a little more than the first time that time although overall I came the least hard.

Man, that man can get me hot. My bedroom smelled so strongly of pussy I had to spray air freshner, and I had to throw that towel into the laundry right away....mmm, but it was so worth it. I'm still sort of dripping almost six hours later.

I suppose it was just what I needed since I won't be on for at least another day. I'm having my friend, Ingrid, over for a girls day/night (she's the only one I've told about the blog) and we're making Spritz cookies (sort of like an almond sugar cookie--but formed with a special tool), English toffee, and Chewies (a delightful Chex Mix style treat that we always make around Christmas--it's Crispix, pretzels, cashews, and almonds and it's baked with a buttery-Worchestershire mix of salty goodness...I'm actually salivating just thinking about it right now).

I'm excited to have a girl's night because I just don't have enough of a social life sometimes. Lately I've felt like that, so I'm in need, especially right before finals start and I want to kill myself...only kidding, sort of. :-)

Hmm, what else...oh, no real word on PSG (that's Phone Sex Guy). I haven't actually spoken to him except the brief text messages we've sent each other the last couple of days. I think he works quite a bit, so that's cool, I don't expect much (well, except from CSG, he's laid that gushing-groundwork, haha). But it is fun to talk to different people/men. I've been feeling so sexy lately it should be a sin!

Better run lovelies. I probably won't post tomorrow, but we'll see on Sunday...since we are supposed to be snowed in with 10-12 inches from tomorrow to Sunday (the highs of the last few days haven't even hit 20). What a lovely time to do some baking!

I'm sleepy...night!

Merry Christmas Baby

I said many, many posts ago that I would be jumping on the Christmas bandwagon within a day of Thanksgiving, but I didn't. Maybe because I was singing Christmas songs months ago, I somehow overdid it and could only now get into Christmas again.

Basically this means that I've finally broken out the Christmas CDs! I'm blasting it in my car, singing Mariah Carey (she really does have the best total Christmas CD), Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and Bonnie Raitt/Charles Brown's "Merry Christmas Baby" which is just so bluesy and delicious that I can sing it over and over (seriously, so get it!).

I heard from Phone Sex Guy (or PSG as Bunny so kindly suggested!) last night, texting me to congratulate me on my squirt...and then this morning saying he wanted me to gush all over him.
Mmm, I love the response I've gotten to my little success. ;-)

Hey! I almost forgot...it's HNT! Well, I didn't have any new ones, but here is a crop of one of the ones I took during Halloween (hence that weird spider-webby fingerless glove). Hope you like it! (Oh, and there is a little one of the small mess I made when I squirted...hopefully you can see it properly) :-)

Go see Obasso, who is our HNT Daddy! (I keep forgetting to give him credit, sorry Obasso!). He has a Super Hot HNT this week...that woman has a hot ass form.

APPLAUSE please

I'd like some applause from the gallery please...

Why, do you ask?

Because I'm quite sure I've acheived the holy grail of female orgasm. I momentarily grasped the cup of squirting. It was just a little one, but I left this massive wet spot all over my bed. I came even harder than usual and while it was just a small bit of a squirt it felt damned good and powerful.

And who do we have to thank for my delicious little foray into squirting? That would be by good Cyber friend (mentioned in the previous entry) who I talked to this morning. Even more exciting is that I came just from clitoral stimulation with it.

I know, I'm awesome.

It really wasn't much of a gush, but just that little one makes me so proud. :-)

Self-Plagiarization

You know, I must give credit where credit is due (what can I say? It's the English major in me, it is a cardinal sin to plagiarize...although I definitely don't think that about self-plagiarizing, if I said it once I can say it again, wherever the hell I please). I have (only) one other friend who I "play" with online, a phenomena that has developed only in the last couple of weeks (maybe I'm giving off computer pheromones?). There will be no calling him, because he lives in another country and my cell phone would self-destruct if it called internationally.

But the man can seriously talk dirty. I do love talking dirty (as apparently evidenced by my forays into phone sex...and my writing), and he talks dirty to me so well. I tend to catch him logging on when I'm in the middle of class, which means I have to tell him to be "good." And, just like my phone-sexer, Cyber-Sex can definitely make me feel sexy.

As I have been thinking about it, I think the reason I'm more comfortable with Cyber-Sex rather than Phone-Sex at the moment (this has also been spurred by all the generous comments and emails I've received telling me I can chill and have fun and shouldn't worry--thanks everyone, sometimes a girl just needs that extra reassurance), is that Cyber and I spoke on email for about two weeks before we logged onto IM to chat (by the way, if anyone has MSN and wants to chat with me...no, not just for sex...email me and let me know). So, I felt like I knew him a little better at the time. Plus, it was all very established beforehand. We weren't going to be exchanging entire pictures or camming (if I even had a cam on my computer), he just wanted to talk dirty to someone, and I like being talked dirty to! We just knew it wouldn't go beyond that. I'm not saying it would with Phone Sex, but there was no setup, which makes it weirder.

I'm not nearly so freaked out by Phone Sex Guy (going to have to come up with better names) anymore (okay, still laughing at myself for getting off in a parking garage in my car...because that would have been very bad, if I had been caught. Hello? Aren't Catholics the least into self-love? Especially in public. *grins, laughs at self*. Talk about a horrible disclosure on the Bar Exam if I'd been caught), especially since there have been a number of readers who have done similar things (although maybe not as quickly as I did) and have come out unscathed. I think I just blew it out of proportion. ;-)

Mmm, but Cyber got me off so well this afternoon once I got home. He had bad internet connection, so unfortunately I didn't get off until after I disconnected from him, but I was kind enough to email him to give him a description. I'm sure he appreciated it...or will once he can read it.

I do so love feeling sexy. And I've just been feeling sexy ever since I got back from my vacay to the middle of North Dakota for Thanksgiving.

How delightful...and thanks to all of you who have contributed to that feeling. I hope I've returned the favor. :-)

Get Freaky

You know, I'm sort of an email addict. I get really giddy whenever I open my account and find out there is a message or new comment from one of you. Not kidding, sort of spurs me on to write more.

So, I did something a little crazy yesterday. I was speaking to an individual who emailed me because of the blog. He said we have a lot in common and so we started talking on IM. Frankly, I thought it was a little awkward at first, but it quickly turned into sexy speak because we were talking about porn and various sexual things...sort of a natural progression.

Only one problem, I was at school. And in the end I was looking frantically around for an open study room on the floor I was on, in order to relieve some pressure, if you know what I mean (you do, don't lie). I know, I could blame him for getting me all hot and bothered, but I was hardly discouraging him.

He asked me to call him, and gave out his phone number. Apparently I was feeling reckless, or in great need of hearing someone's voice, because I went to my car in the parking garage of the school and actually did call him.

And then we had phone sex.

It was fun (really, really fun--told you, I have an exhibitionist streak), don't get me wrong. Everyone got their jollies (at least from what I could hear), but now I'm slightly weirded out. I think because of the disastrous results of talking to The Fucker and his stupidity, I get a little...oh, what's the word (no really, I keep wanting to say pugilistic, and that's not right...well, it kind of is), that feeling of approaching-Armageddon I guess. Like actually opening myself up to having spoken to someone that I don't know (for some reason my voice is very personal to me), it will most certainly end in the disaster it did before. A guy who makes me feel sexy is a fairly powerful thing. I just never really imagined gaining friends or...well, masturbation buddies out of writing a blog. Luckily, I think I have gotten some friends...it's the masturbation buddy part that's freaking me out.

Oh, ramblings. How I love thee.

I'm quite sure I'm just freaking out for nothing, but I was wondering...have any of my dear readers contacted people they met through their blog? Called? Met in person? Whatever? I'm very interested in how common this is, and since I'm so awful at staying detached from things it's good to know how others view the situation.

PS--Had a big step. I was so freaked out (okay, and still feeling sexy and reckless), and told my best friend and law school that I have a blog. That's Ingrid, who I talked about a few blog entries ago. The one who encouraged me to put up a blog and everything. I didn't give her the address, but I wanted to get her opinion on the whole thing. She promised to slap me if things get out of hand (I asked her to).

Post-Turkey Day Report

Well, damn was it nice to finally get off again...revisit the sex toys, etc.

It isn't that I was really gone so long, but it is very intense when I visit my grandmother. Part of it is that she is now 91, so she's finally at the point where she's gotten a little bit senile (that sounds bad, and like I'm relieved, but the woman is a freaking trooper! I have always sort of thought she is immortal. She looks like she's 70. It's only been in the past two years that she's gotten a little forgetful and tends to be very, very repetitive). But I tend to be on guard a little, becaue she gets a little...um, critical, and then forgets that she's just said something, so I can hear, "You know, it would really make you're mom happy if you lost some weight" five or six times in an hour...not to mention she called me by my cousin's name the entire time I was there. Normally she'll go through the list of granddaughters before getting to the right name, but she didn't even go through them, just called me my cousin's name the whole time.

But it's also scary to visit her now that she is actually getting older (as in, she's getting older like a person tends to do--forgetting things, talking about her mortality, etc.). It's a little odd, because I haven't exactly been close with her (she doesn't think much of females--she's old school and believes that the men have all the answers), so I don't really know what to think about her talking about her own death. It's odd.

The cool thing about the weekend though, was visiting my great-uncle's house for Thanksgiving. He is an antique collector/restorer and has always done that, but we don't see him or his cool trinkets too often. But this time we saw some of his stuff...I've decided I want someone who buys and restores antiques (then sells them) in one of my books. We have a couple of pieces in the house, including a Murphy bed from around the 40s I think. And then a marble-top table that he restored. He also had an old, old 1920s or 30s phonograph. Have you ever heard a phonograph? It's crazy! It even had a turn crank, and he had all sort of records for it. It was in amazing condition, and he bought it for around $100--I bet he could sell it to the right person for many thousands. He has old cars that he's restored, a huge wall of old license plates, the man is just so cool. And books! Holy crap does he have books. I bet he has ever Louis LaMour book ever written.

Now I've come home and am watching "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition." Which of course always makes me cry (and which is why I never watch it), and it's set here in Minnesota for the 100th episode. There was a news story about a year ago about a woman who was shot by her ex-boyfriend, both she and her boyfriend were shot, and they both died. Leaving four little kids (who were in the house when the shooting occurred and saw their mom), and the kids were taken in by the aunt, who is a volleyball coach at a local high school. She just had a baby too, and had a couple of her own kids, so there are 10 people in the house. It's very hard to watch because it hits so close to home. It happened just a few miles from where I live, but it's really nice to see the kids get a break to go to Disneyland (or World) and really see how the show touches lives.

Great, now I'm weepy. I bet you didn't think this is where the entry was going when I started writing. :,-)

It is great to be home though, even though I'm crying right now. In other fun TV news though, I was watching "Platinum Weddings" on WE and that was about as cool as it gets. I have been "planning" my own fake-platinum wedding and already figured out that I would probably be able to spend around $560,000 on a wedding after doing a destination wedding to Scotland where I rented out an entire castle, in addition to paying for flights for all my family and friends, put them up in luxury hotels, and then got a freaking awesome dress, ring, paid for everyone elses outfits in the wedding party. In addition to a bunch of other crap.

I've never really been into wedding planning. Sure I did it a bit when I was a little girl and making my Barbies get married, but I've never been much of a girly-girl for as much of a romantic streak as I have, and never really spent time thinking about where I'd want to get married (okay, I've always liked the idea of a winter wedding) or what kind of dress I'd want to wear or the kind of engagement ring I'd want either. But let me tell you....THIS IS FUN! You wouldn't believe how many websites there are for planning a wedding! Holy crap, I'm sort of glad I'm doing the fun part of this while I have no current prospect of getting married, because I think I'd be too overwhelmed if I waited until I was actually proposed to. :-)

Oh good, now I feel better...talking about a fake wedding plan does that to me. ;-)

No Place Like Home

Oy. It's definitely nice to be home. I need to get off very badly right now. I had a bit of problem with privacy over the last couple of days--namely I've had none. I've been sleeping on a blow up bed in my grandmother's living room for the past three nights, with my dog on the couch next to me (yep, she's just a tad spoiled) and my parents and grandmother within about twenty feet of me. Not exactly conducive to masturbation. :-)

Mmm, I'm not feeling too writy at the moment, just ready for a hot shower (I've been in the car for six hours and we stopped twice for nearly two hours each) and my favorite toys.

Will definitely write more later! Had a fabulous Thanksgiving with lots of food (of course!). Thanks to everyone for the great Happy Turkey Day wishes! I hope to make it around to everyone over the next day or so...I feel like I'm so behind on everyone's lives! :-)

Turkey Day!

Haha, how much of a 16-year-old boy am I for realizing that yesterday's post was my 69th and actually laughing about it?

Anyway, my lovelies, I am of to bumfuck North Dakota for the rest of the week until Saturday. A place with no Internet as far as I am aware, except for the WiFi at Starbucks (yes, oddly even in a town of less than 2000 which counts the surrounding farmers in that number--probably about 1000--there are Starbucks), which I won't really be anywhere near. They have a lot of space in North Dakota, they like to take it up and spread out. There is around an average of 9 people per square mile in my home-state. Yep, that's pretty scary.

So, I won't be blogging over the next few days, but I hope everyone here in the States has a lovely Turkey Day with lots of great food (I know I will--and I get to make lefse! Yes!), and I hope everyone abroad has just a great weekend in general! :-)

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UPDATE: I just had to share this, I went to some quiz place through a friend's MySpace page that was "How will you be defined in the dictionary?" I put in my name and my definition was,
"Rae* (noun) - A Master Blogger" I nearly fell off my chair laughing. :-)

SUGASM #106

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #107? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
5 Advanced Deep Throat Techniques“Suck your man’s penis into your throat, and, while it is deep in, start to hum.”
MILF = Men I’d Like to Fuck“He knows my body p e r f e c t l y and knows exactly how to make me squirm with pleasure and always knows the right thing to say.”
Reconciling Desire & Reality (part 2)“The excitement of sharing her, the excitement of my arousal THEORETICALLY should mean a heightening of our own sex life.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Our fearless leader tells me he’s crazy busy so I’m presenting one from the vaults.
The Six Types of Porn Movie (and How To Get Into Them)

Editor’s Choice
Primed

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Sex News & Reviews
The End of the Mile-High Club
Fetish Film - Squealer (BSDM, Master, Shibari)
My controversial, nipple-baring Dirty Girls book cover
NEW Culture Shocking Designs!
Sex Toy Review: Mini Bullet One Touch Vibrator

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Am I born as a Whore?
Floral HNT
He’s Horny and She’s Easy
The Humble Handjob
I’ll assume i’m on the naughty list
Minus One
Compulsive Slut
Re-discovering myself
So, doc, when can we…
Virgin Extraordinaire

Sex Poetry
Now and Zen

BDSM & Fetish
The **** machine
Erotica: Mind Games
Generic Pussy?
Get the contract signed- part two: vital lessons
Just a Few Naked Pics of Amy’s Perfect Body
Naked Service
What a Saturday
What is a Daddy Dom? Pt. 2

Sex Advice
Six ways from Sunday - Cowgirl (reversed or otherwise)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Bad Girl
Betrayal
Dark Cold Moons
Dichotomy
Halloween
Icing on the Cake
Like Me
The Main Course
Multi-tasking
Second Time Around
Sex Party in the Hood
Stressed Wanking

Sex Humor
Fuck’n FunUntitled No. 1

Sex Work
Reality Check: Eating Food

NSFW Pics & Videos
Day trip to porno town
Hannah Hilton Sexy Bikini pics
Lisa wants a spanking
Sanctum
Self-portrait in Boots
A Hot Femdom / Slave Boy Strap-On Scene

YAY! This is my first Sugasm entry! I didn't get picked as a Top 3 or anything, but hey! Maybe one day!

Random musings

Update: I apologize in advance, because this post has really horrendous grammar...but I'm too lazy to go back and fix it all right now. :-)
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Not that my daily thoughts aren't random musings (I love that word), but these are just a few of the things currently running through my mind.

...I really don’t like church. I forget how much I don’t really like church when I don’t go for awhile, but I really don’t…and I had to go to two (TWO) this weekend when I sang in that choir, I was so kidding myself when I thought it wouldn’t be so bad. I glared at the gospel-speaker the whole time. Darn Lutherans (aka—my whole extended family). The entire time they were discussing the story (during children’s story time) of Elijah and Elisha, where Elijah ascends to heaven in a chariot of fire with horses of fire I kept saying to myself, “Jaysus (I develop an Irish accent when I say that), they stole Helios’s chariot of fire.” Actually Namesarehardtopick over at Argumentum ad Insanium, seems to know more about how they take stories from other ancient religions to use as stories in the Bible, at least better than I do, so he could probably tell me where the story actually comes from, as I’m sure they didn’t just take Helios’s chariot. It’s all very frustrating…if Christianity is based off fables and fiction, then Jedi-ism should be gaining ground any day now. It could very well be the next Christianity! (and think of how fun that would be!)

...I do like some churches though. HATE churches in the US overall, but big stone cathedrals are really delightful to me. St. Giles’ Kirk in Edinburgh, Scotland (I heart Scotland…I come for Scotland) is my absolute favorite in the whole world. Quite literally.

…As I was walking from the government center where I volunteer as a legal clinic on Mondays, I looked around downtown and realized that Minneapolis definitely is a nice place to live sometimes. Oh, sure, it’s freezing today and I nearly lost my nipples on the way back to school, but it is clean, and we have fairly low unemployment usually, we don’t have too many homeless, and it has everything I need really, but isn’t humongous. I don’t love it all the time, but I was feeling appreciative of it today for some reason. The air must have been extra brisk.

…Come-on lines. I was just reading Pink Stuffing , and Pink talked about a guy who came-on to her on an IM program, using a fairly obvious ploy to find out if she had a boyfriend without coming right out and asking. So I thought about that for a moment, and while I have luckily not been the recipient (too much) of those embarrassing lines (ex: “Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”, etc). Yes, I’ve heard them once or twice (guys, do you really think these work? I feel like my male readers are a) smarter than this and b) more mature than this), but not too many times. Actually, the best come-on I’ve ever heard was this past Halloween. Now, I don’t go in for girls, but I was damned flattered when a woman walked by me, stopped, walked back, looked me up and down and said, “So. Hot.” And then walked away. I might have made out with her just because I was so flattered.

…My friend…we’ll call her Inga, because I don’t think I’ve introduced her (she’s probably my closest friend at law school)…and I were at the Vikings football game yesterday, discussing cheating and then what kind of guys we need and want in our lives (clearly we didn’t go for the game—and we were in a suite/box, so it wasn’t as loud). She is sexually attracted to a friend of ours (which I don’t blame her, he’s a hottie), but she knows him too well and knows that he is too dirty. I mean, he’s hot as hell, but I just could not sleep with him…he’s definitely a man slut, in the bad way. I like him fine as a friend, but could not sleep with him. We discussed another of our friends (Sweetie Pie, who has been mentioned before), and while he would probably be the guy I’d “need” in general—a good guy, and kind, considerate, etc, which are things I want . But he isn’t dirty enough. Both Inga and I laughed because we were afraid we could corrupt the man. He might have a heart attack if he knew how straight up dirty I am.

…I really adore Inga. I have some good friends at law school overall, but Inga is, oddly enough, the best. She knows about as much as my very best friends about my personality. And she knows how much of a dirty ho I can be (I mean that in the best possible way). She is just so supportive, I’m so glad we’ve become friends. Plus, we talked about blogs a bit (I didn’t tell her I have one), but she actually encouraged me to start one! I wasn’t sure I wanted to actually tell her about it, so I didn’t, but she told me that I’m such a good writer that I should use it as a way to develop my writing—I think this is amazing, because I’m fairly sure she hasn’t read anything of mine, but she simply has that immediate support for me. So awesome.

…Gerard Butler? Oooh, I nearly come just when he says, “Hi.” I get wet hearing that sexy Scottish accent. Did I mention I heart Scotland?

…I really love romance novels (have I mentioned this?), but I’m sort of ready to read a few non-romances at the moment. I am due to re-read The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged again…but first I have to finish Under the Banner of Heaven. I’ve been bad about reading right now…and writing! So, NaNoWriMo has been going horrendously. Darn school and writing that manual.

Breathe

Okay, I've taken a breath now (or five billion) and am a bit calmer than I was this morning...okay, not really, but I know there isn't much I can do at the moment (pretty much my least favorite feeling).

I'm just glad it's Friday, even though that means it's another week closer to finals. I just don't care at this point, and am ready to be through with that for the semester. I'm just loving watching Food Network (I'm addicted--Ina Garten, the Barefoot Contessa, just made Creme Brulee, and I think I just came in my panties it looked so good, that is one of those orgasmic kinds of food for me) and planning a fake wedding (so many people are getting married around me, so I have started looking at all the fun things too! I just love to plan that type of stuff). Haha. Ooh, Paula Deen is on now...I love her too.

And how sad is it, that I just had Aunt Flo start visiting yesterday (damned Aunt Flo), and I'm already missing masturbating? Normally I just don't feel like it for days two through four, but man if I'm not a bit annoyed that I can't have a visit with Mr. Darcy--at least not one that wouldn't require extensive clean-up.

I think I'll particularly be feeling anoyed by that this evening when I watch Caligula. I've been wanting to see it for about a year (okay, maybe more) because it is supposed to be bordering on pornographic. I'm sort of excited about that frankly. But I won't be really doing much with it.

Ladies do you ever just get in so much need that you simply have to stuff yourself full of your fingers, or your vibrator? I'm feeling that right now? I'm sure guys feel the same way, absolutely in feel of just jacking off hard until you come hot and hard? Damn it, that thought just turns me on even more. I really do love looking at/thinking about cocks.

Shoot, I'm going to have to shower tonight once I've watched Caligula. Luckily all my toys are waterproof. ;-)

Perturbed

I'm terribly perturbed today. It's lasting over from last night actually, and at least I've gone from livid rage to simple perturbance. I don't tend to get angry often, and when I do it's very short-lived, but that isn't happening right now. I had some interesting news yesterday and some very disturbing news. I'm happy about the interesting news, because my friend is moving in with her boyfriend and this is big step from her. I wouldn't be particularly surprised if I heard an engagement announcement in the next six to nine months. She's a bit of a commitment-phobe (but as a serial monogamist she doesn't seem it), and that she isn't freaked is fabulous for her.

The disturbing news is hitting a bit closer to home. I'll try and make the backstory as short as possible, but it is basically that my sister-in-law's sister has been moving her kids around the southwest for the past few years, ever since about a year before she got divorced. My SIL's sister is a bit crazy, much like her mother (I don't know how my SIL missed out on that, but she's sort of the grown-up of the women in her family) and those two women have never gotten along particularly well with my brother...and my brother is hardly their biggest fan because they really rely on my SIL to be the grownup when both are older than her. So, when SIL's sister moved back to AZ for awhile last year, her kids (in their early teens) came over to my bros and SIL's regularly and hung out, getting to know my brother fairly well in the process. They moved to Cali and then back to AZ and after a few weeks my brother text messaged them to make sure they were doing okay (this was a couple weeks ago) and basically tell them they had a support system in my bro and SIL.

NOW, the stupid bitch Sister is telling her mom, "I think it had a sexual undertone." All right, I can understand a little bit a mother's jumping to conclusions and wanting to be wary, but holy-fucking-christ! I want to wring that woman's neck, my brother is the last person in the world who would do that. Being in law school, I know that one stupid reaction like that can ruin someone's life (and, as my classmates could tell you, I generally lean more towards believing the alleged victim than not). But even more than wringing the Sister's neck I want to wring my SIL's neck, because she doesn't like confrontation with her family so while she isn't necessarily taking her sister's side she also isn't taking my brothers to avoid the confrontation! And she doesn't get WHY my brother would be upset by this and think that he won't be welcome at Thanksgiving! I'm sorry, I don't do confrontation with my dad and brother real well (my mom I can usually deal with), or really anyone, but there are certain situations when it's just necessary to suck it up and say, "You're wrong." I truly think that the Sister is using this as a way to alienate my bro from that side of the family, because she's never liked him (she's pulled one or two minor things trying to alienate him before). My SIL's dad doesn't believe it and gets along great with my bro, but he doesn't get involved because he and the mom are divorced.

Okay, I went from perturbed back to livid rage. I'm not sure what my SIL is thinking, because she should know that if someone says something at Christmas I'm going to go off on them. As would either my mom or dad. It's one of those accusations that is so far beyond possibility it borders on laughable, but it could also be something that destroys my brothers marriage if nothing else. I'm just so disgusted with that family right now I can't even form words (physically, obviously not in writing). I just want to spit and when I get this pissed I tend to cry (I don't know, it's just a physical thing for me), so I'm trying not to. AAGH! I'm just going to go now.

The Choir Snob Makes an Appearance...Plus! HNT!

So, I'm generally fairly easy-going and accepting of most things. But there are certain things I definitely have a snobby side about. One of these things is thread-count in my sheets. I don't care about what other people have as their sheet TC, and wouldn't refuse to sleep somewhere without "proper" thread-count, but I require that the sheets on my bed always be 500+ thread-count (preferably 600-700, which I have found is just perfect) of Egyptian cotton (NOT sateen). It's a little embarrassing sometimes to be so obsessed with my sheets.

Another thing I'm a snob about...which I didn't even realize until tonight...is choir. Here's the thing. Without, hopefully, sounding too much like a braggart, I have a great singing voice (it's hardly peak at the moment because I don't work it except in the car, shower, and basically everywhere but choirs or voice lessons). I just do. I was in choir all through to my senior year of high school. I have been given a huge number of solos over the years, I cantored at church during 6th & 7th grade (it was the only way I would go, frankly), I made it as the first and only Sophomore in high school to make it into the best choir at the school (and I believe my record still stands), I've sung at sporting games, wedding anniversaries, and many, many choir retreats and festivals. I've had a really awesome "career" singing and am damn proud of my accomplishments with it (which I won't share here, because I'd be an even bigger braggart than I already am). I've even made enemies in choir (trust me, those "good-little-choir-girls" are really mean bitches a lot of the time). Is it any wonder I'm a choir snob?

That stuff isn't really the point, but what is is that I'm currently singing in a one-time choral experience at my aunt and uncle's church, with any women who wanted to sing in it as well as the women who normally sing in all the choirs at this church (we're all about the music in Minnesota churches--there are at least three at this church). Some of these "women" are actually girls that are around the 14-16 year-old range. One of them has a solo in one of the pieces we are singing. And each time she opened her mouth I wanted to vault the chairs, shake her and tell her to "Project! Project goddammit!" That probably wouldn't have gone over well, but it's like these girls are completely taking advantage of the fact that they have microphones! It perturbs me, because I've done the musical-theatre thing and even just singing on stage for solos we did not always have mics. Projection is such a huge part of singing too, and it helps with breath control so much, that I kept wanting to take over and go, "Okay, here's what needs to be done..."

I had to laugh at myself on the way home. I think I've always had an excess of hubris when it comes to my singing voice (could ya tell? :-) ) but I couldn't believe how much of a snob I was tonight! I really enjoyed doing it though, and being back in that setting of a choir without the crappy pressure of choir in college (holy crap was that bureaucratic!), and just being in it to have fun. Still wanted to shake that girl and tell her to project though. Poor thing. ;-)

All right, all right. Now that you've listened to my crap, here is what you've all really been waiting for. HNT!!! That's me in my towel. There was another picture I had that I liked better...but POOF! it has been lost somewhere in computer-space. Incidentally, I tried to take a video of myself, doing a few...ahem...naughty things to myself, and couldn't figure out how to get it off the camera, so I had to delete it. I'm telling you, I just don't know how to work my camera (probably because I've never read instructions for it...whoops!).

Happy HNT everyone!

Virgin Extraordinaire

I have recently begun reading a blog by Ms. Virgin, who happens to have a great deal in common with me, so her blog tends to “speak” to me. :-) Very appropriate for the name of her blog.

In one of her entries she spoke about the debate she has with her friends on whether or not she can possibly be as horny as they are, since she isn’t having sex. They of course say nay, and she says yea.

I have to agree with her, and have been thinking about this ever since I read that entry. One of the things that surprises me about people is that they immediately equate virgin with utter lack of sexual experience. Words that come to mind for a lot of people about virgins are naiveté, religious, out-of-the-loop, inexperienced. This is just my own experience, I’m sure there are many others (but really why do I need to list anything beyond what I’m going to talk about?).

Let’s be crazy and not start with the first in the list (my English teachers would scold me), let’s go with….religious, first off. In case you were not aware—I’m not religious. I would classify myself closest to agnostic, but I definitely lean towards the atheistic side of agnostic. I have no desire to save myself for marriage. I fully believe you should try the milk before buying the cow (oh god, I just realized how offensive that is), and test-drive the car before purchase…please insert any other awkward metaphor here. I’m sure it’s a by-product of our society that they think the only people who can possibly still be virgins are those who are saving themselves for marriage for religious reasons. Pshaw. Some of us just haven’t had too many opportunities handed to us on a platter.

All right, let’s go with the naiveté and inexperienced (oh, hell and out-of-the-loop) side of things (since they really are the same in a lot of ways). Um, I’m not sure if you’ve been reading the blog long, but do I sound inexperience or naïve in any way? Yes, I don’t physically know what it is like to have a hot, hard cock inside my pussy—at least not with a being attached to the other side of it. The best example I have seen of being judged naïve by friends because I have not had sex (mind you this is from two of my closest friends at the time), is after my best friend had sex at the end of our Freshman year of college. It was the night before her parents came down to move her out of the dorm and she was super excited and shared all with me…and then the next year, when we lived together with another friend of ours I was suddenly “The Virgin.” Not to my face, ever, but my BF started consulting our other friend and having little tête-à-têtes with her about sex. I felt like Cher in Clueless when Dionne starts asking Tai for sex advice. I won’t lie, it hurt my feelings to be so completely excluded from those discussions and for them to stop talking about it when I knocked on the door. Suddenly my ears are virginal because you’ve both had sex and I haven’t? Excuse me? Who is the one who couldn’t say “finger” and would never in her life admit to having masturbated until after she got married? Well that sure as hell wasn’t me.

My presumption is that they were trying not to discuss it much in front of me to spare me thoughts of wistfulness. Seriously I don’t know who they thought I was that year, but they clearly didn’t think I was me.

I am so not inexperience or naïve. I read about sex constantly, I bought a book about Female Ejaculation to try and learn to do it. I was always the first to ask the sex questions in “Never Have I Ever” and I make so secret of my use and enjoyment of sex toys. I usually masturbate three times a day. And would definitely do it more if I didn’t have school. The thing is, is that because people tend to not consider masturbation sexual experience, they don’t count it towards sexual knowledge either. I’m telling you, I know a hell of a lot more about sex than my two best friends, who are both in relationships and having regular sex than they do. I’ve researched, I’ve tried it out on toys, I have admitted to them both that I want to try anal and am currently searching out a toy to get me started in the process. Where the hell does knowing what you want and making it happen…even if it isn’t with another person…make for naiveté/inexperience/etc?

Even today I have stopped arguing the point with my girlfriends that I can easily be as horny if not more so than they. I crave Mr. Darcy (the vibrating-dildo). I craved Athena (the fave pocket-rocket) in the middle of the night and got up to use her, last night (Tangent: I have found I really, really enjoy using my toys in what is essentially doggy-style…yeah, I use my toys in more than one position…I come so hard. Same with “girl-on-top.” They just aren’t always the most practical way to watch porn/read erotica at the same time, unfortunately--but I wasn't doing either last night, so doggy-style was awesome. I come longer too in that position).

I know I don’t get to have the emotional aspect of things like my best friends do—and maybe that is the horny feeling they are experiencing that I don’t get yet. But orgasm-for-orgasm, I guarantee I’m just as horny as they are.

And frankly, when it comes to losing my virginity (ya’know, to an actual man), I think I can safely say I’m not going to be as nervous as some. I’m going to know what goes where and how to get it there, and I’m going to worry about getting my rocks off too, even though virgins (except in romance novels) are infamous for not getting theirs their first time.

I don’t know, maybe I should ask you, dear readers…think I’m as horny as the average woman who has already had sex? I’m fairly sure I am (particularly since I’m wet most of the day), but maybe there is something I am missing about myself that comes out in my writing. AND, what was your horniness level when you guys and gals were all virgins? Particularly those who waited a little longer than the “average”?

As Different from the Last Entry as Can Be...

It’s very hard for me to sometimes go from one extreme to the other. I don’t generally make downward crawls into depression, but one thing will set me off, make me think, and just drop me into self-loathing. I don’t like the drop, because I can’t always identify from whence it came.

I’ve noticed a lot of my fellow bloggers feeling down at the moment, either just not energetic or in full bouts of depression, so I thought I’d comment on my own experience, particularly because I’m feeling a bit sad at the moment myself (luckily I think this is a primarily a singular occurrence at the moment, but I’ll get into that later).

I’ve gone through any number of depressions in my life. The earliest time I can really remember is in the 1st grade when I came home absolutely devastated from school because kids were calling me fat. I wanted to see a nutritionist, I wanted to do something, but when you’re in first grade what can you really do? What even can your parents do for you? I can’t remember if we went (I feel like we may have gone to some doctor to talk about health, but again what do you say to a first grader with too much baby fat? I wasn’t really obese at the time, just bigger than the rest of the little girls), but I was down for weeks. I really hated myself and didn’t know why I had to be bigger than the other girls or why people who I thought were friends were making such fun of me.

I’m fairly sure all of my insecurities stem from that year of school. And I know that 95% of any depression I have is because of my weight.

I would generally consider myself fairly happy-go-lucky, laid back, and not too easily offended, but when it comes to my weight I am such the complete opposite of that. I will rage when anyone mentions my weight, or talks about fat people (I could probably take comfort that if people are comfortable talking about fat people around me, without pausing uncomfortably when they realize I’m with them, they don’t necessarily put me into that category because they know me…but let’s get real here, I’m not a size 2 and it still hurts when people joke about weight around me). So, my mom, who mentions it fairly often because she worries about my future health, gets a huge brunt of anger from me whenever she comments. She is considerably smaller than me and has this ability to simply change a habit the moment she decides to change it. It’s a bit uncanny actually, and something I only wish that I possessed. But I don’t, I’m more like my dad and stubborn as all get out when I decide I don’t want to change something.

It isn’t that I wouldn’t love to change my weight, but if suddenly some guy started paying attention to me because I drop fifty pounds the only thing that would go through my head would be, “So, why wasn’t I good enough fifty pounds ago?” It would drive me bonkers, and would probably hurt my feelings even more to be noticed. It would basically mean my personality is just not good enough, and where is that fair to me? I think I’d have to drop all my weight and move away to start over, but it would still be in my mind that, “What if I gained that weight back? Where would this guy be then?”

Judging people on weight/looks is really the only politically correct prejudice left. You can’t (nor should you, I’m definitely not saying you should) judge people based on race, religion, gender, etc. But weight…go right-a-fucking-head. Take away healthcare for them because they might have a higher liability when they are over a certain weight. Charge them for two seats on an airplane. Make fun all you want and ostracize them cause you don’t have a fucking clue what it’s like to struggle everyday to find something cute to wear or what it’s like to walk down the street and have people do a double-take and curl their lip up at you.

I have heard this song a couple of times by Blake Shelton (who is cuter-than-a-bug’s-ear, usually) called “The More I Drink,” which has the line, “A couple a cold ones, and somebody hands me a shot…and pretty soon I’m bummin’ cigarettes and talking to some big brunette.” In the video he throws his arms real wide to demonstrate that last part about the big brunette, his grin wide and mocking. And that’s the end of it for me. I hate the man for making fun, because I want to puke when I hear that line. A song that I enjoyed for the first minute and a half is completely ruined by the implication that the guy in the song would never go talk to a “big brunette” if he didn’t get so shellacked that “even buck-tooth and bow-legged women start looking hot.” Real, fucking nice.

Deliciously Naughty had a post up the other day, which I just got to read today, about the recent Leonard Nimoy photography exhibit (yep, Mr. Spock is a renowned photog) which features a bevy of fat women recreated in famous works of art/photography. The one I liked best was the recreation of Herb Ritts’ naked supermodels (Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell, Christy Turlington, they are all in there). It was still beautiful, even though I’ll admit, sometimes art pieces of fat women make me uncomfortable because they are so comfortable with their bodies and I am not that comfortable with mine—I admire and also hate them for being so comfortable sometimes.

Welcome to my self-loathing: I wish for that which I do not know how to achieve**.

DN’s entry was so powerful though, I was sobbing by the end (thus the current sad feeling). The entire exhibition that she is talking about is this newsworthy oddity. It’s shocking and scandalous…all because the women are fat. Awesome, now we are sideshow freaks?

Blogging has helped me tremendously since I started doing it. This year is the first time in a long time that I can remember not being utterly and hopelessly depressed for the first few weeks of fall (not official autumn on Sept 21, but when the air actually does turn cooler). I absolutely adore autumn, but for some reason I get into a horrible funk during the first weeks of it. And I didn’t this year. Blogging is so cathartic for me, like I said in my original entry—it’s like going to a therapist, only cheaper and better. And I’ve done the therapist route, it hasn’t worked for me.

Luckily, I have never gotten to the point where I have needed to go onto meds. Prescription meds scare me anyway, unless they are for very short terms (like antibiotics or something—it’s very odd with as many doctors in my family as I have that I don’t like medications), and have never seriously considered suicide, but I think I’ve been borderline at times where if I hadn’t gotten myself out of it or somehow been snapped out of it from some external force I would have been on a dangerous precipice.

That’s my two cents on depression. I hope all my dear blogger friends will be feeling better soon, I know I’m lucky to be able to dig myself out of depression when it sets in, and that others are not that lucky and that normally it is not so easy (I’ve had a few times of those as well—it screws up my body horrendously, I didn’t have my period for a year once, luckily my gyno didn’t believe in immaculate conception either).

Take it easy lovelies, and be safe. I’m here if you need support, or will just be waiting when you’re back. And in the meanwhile I’ll keep writing, and reading, and commenting (I do love to comment).

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**I don’t think someone else said this, but if someone recognizes this from somewhere let me know so I can give proper due. I don’t go in for that plagiarizing stuff. If no one else did I’m feeling pretty smart, I kind of like that line.

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Update 11/11: My sadness truly was a temporary affliction...at least this time. Although I don't generally consider shopping therapeutic (and definitely not after having a mini-breakdown regarding weight), I spent a boatload of money today at Nordstroms and Nordstroms Rack. And shockingly, I do feel a bit better after that. :-)

Love Song

***Warning...this seems oddly more sexually explicit than normal...but that's okay. Proceed with caution lovelies. ;-)

Well, tonight I am going to be that girl that refuses invitations to go out to "wash my hair." I'm having a sort of spa day/evening...but really it's just an excuse to clean myself up a little since I'm still feeling a big grungy post-sickness. Hmmm...might just have to take some pictures for ya'll once I'm “prettied up”. ;-)

Editor’s Note: I did take pictures (well at least one) for you. Wanna see?

Well, ladies and gentleman, I’m proud to say that I almost reached the Holy Grail of Female Orgasm. That’s right, I almost gushed. It was, unfortunately, only an almost. As soon as I felt it, I really chased it, pushing my body for it. Which sort of had the opposite effect and I ended up almost losing my orgasm entirely.

That was certainly unexpected.

But I prevailed and decided that I would wait to gush another day…my clit works damned well too (um, whoever designed that/whatever decided that clitoris’ were necessary in evolution—thank you). I took pictures, just to commemorate. And the almost-gush was definitely interesting in another way—I’ve never creamed so much in my life. My body was borderline gushing just from that…I’ll probably post the picture of Mr. Darcy in all his creamy glory up here. I have to thank Selena Kitty for her contributions to Literotica, because she writes some of the hottest sex scenes I’ve ever read and she was definitely a contribution to my near-gush.

I know it’s a little porn star, but I sort of wanted to taste him after that, but by the time I thought of it, I’d already cleaned him up. I’ve done it before, just a bit of a lick and let me tell you…dildos don’t taste good. I don’t mind the taste of myself, in fact, I sort of like it, but the underlying taste of dildo-jelly is fairly overwhelming to my own taste and sort of ruins the effect.

Does anyone else feel a little like they have superpowers after they come? I always feel like I've transformed into some large, predatory cat when I orgasm powerfully. My vision is always a little clearer, my mind a little sharper (well, after a few moments at least), and I love the physical effect...the pulses of my pussy while it readjusts itself to how it had clenched so hard when I came. Have you ever looked in a mirror after you come? My pupils are always huge--it's like ecstacy, or at least what I have seen and heard of ecstacy (one of those drugs I have no desire to take). Coming is just so utterly delicious.

Speaking of Mr. Darcy, by the way…I’ve been thinking of getting a new toy soon. Here are some of the toys I have…we have Athena, my delightful little pocket-rocket (and, although I hate to play favorites—natch—she is definitely used most). And of course, Mr. Darcy. I also have Turtle (okay, Essence, but she looks a little like a turtle), who does the job, but frankly doesn’t get taken out of the bag much. I got her when I ordered Nigel, who should have probably come with the warning label “Not Good for the Untried.” He was just a tad too thick for me and it took about half a dozen tries to get him in. And I do not use him much either…he still kind of scares me and Mr. Darcy tends to be plenty thick for me. Finally, we have The Original…better, and lovingly, known as The Ese. I would like to say that I did not name The Ese.

This is going to sound fairly negative, but because I lived in Tucson for such a long time and because of my sister-in-law is Latina, I tended to adopt certain phrases that were prevalent from my sister-in-law and just around Tucson in general. Namely, I mentioned that someone had been driving through the parking lot of the apartment complex I lived in “bumping Thriller like an ese.” If you don’t know what an ese is (and yes, I’m sure I’m spelling that wrong, since ese in Spanish actually means “that”), in Tucson it meant “homeboy” essentially. I heard it a fair amount. Okay, not exactly politically correct I’m sure, but my friends laughed so hard when I said it that they named the vibrator that they bought me, after my faux pas (in addition to buying me a number of Playboys at the same time—for my birthday—featuring some fine Latin Lovers and their…ahem, equipment). I don’t use him a whole hell of a lot…but since he was bought from Fascinations in Tucson, and I don’t know who makes him, I’ll just say that he is a pink, slimline vibe. He’s also waterproof, which I’ve just realized all of my other toys are too…except Nigel (long story as to why I named him that, which no one will find funny but me).

I do so adore my toys, but I’m sort of thinking of taking it to the next step. If the Rabbit vibrators didn’t scare me so much (it’s the twirling plus the vibrating plus the clit stimulator—it’s all a bit too much), and weren’t so expensive, I’d probably consider one of those. But what I’m truly considering is an anal piece. I’m quite fascinated by anal sex, and since I’ve taught myself about every other kind of sexual experience, why not figure out if I like anal? I’m still doing some research on it, so I’ll have to let you know my decision, but if anyone has any recommendations, I am always glad for them.

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In other news: I have a new girl-crush on Sara Bareilles. Her song “Love Song” is so fabulous, I have been listening to it over and over again all day (hence the title of this entry), singing at the top of my lungs. I love it so much. And it has a fabulous video! I’m not one of those who needs to have found an artist before he/she becomes popular, but I was pretty excited that I got her on iTunes for free when she was a featured artist. The phrase “you’re not who I thought you were” is my favorite part of the melody. She does have a lovely voice.

I've literally just started reading Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Kraukauer (fairly sure I spelled that incorrectly, sorry Jon)--as in I'm on page 6 of the Prologue--and I'm already obsessed. It's about the Lafferty boys who killed their sister-in-law and niece back in 1984. Ron Lafferty had supposedly received a message from God to do this. It's all about Mormon fundamentalism. I met a lot of Mormons when I lived in Flagstaff, Arizona and I have to tell you, they are some of the nicest people around, so this will be an interesting other side to my own experience with Mormons. My friend, Pimp Daddy, loaned it to me when I was in New York City. I have to send it back when I'm done, and I feel like that may be by the end of the weekend.

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Whoops! Almost forgot about Mr. Darcy...the picture isn't as good as I would have liked it, but the white streaks/stuff you see are not a part of the dildo...that's all me baby. ;-)

Mmm, just seeing it again is making me hot...uh, excuse me, I, uh, need to...take care of something.

I'm baaaaccccckkkkk....Just in time for HNT!

Well, whatever the hell was wrong with me is much improved now. After sleeping for 25 hours in a thirty-six hour period I was feeling considerably more chipper yesterday, but still a little off. Today, I'm up and (almost) bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 8am. I say "almost" because can anyone actually be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at this hour? Except my mom (who's already been up three hours)? Clearly I'm not a morning person...

I think I knew for sure that I was better when I had a sex dream last night...there wasn't actually any sex...although there was a lot of kissing...and I was naked...and the hot man in my dreams was looking at me hungrily...so sex was defintiely on the horizon.

But, just for all your well wishes and all your kindness last week in wishing I had just left that second picture up (and for missing out entirely on Shibari's Panty-Parade...which I'm very sad about), I am posting two pictures for HNT today! I took them both last week when I was feeling a lot better, so thank goodness for forethought! I have a thing for Sepia tones (that's me in the bath last week with Emma Holly's book in my hand--post orgasm)...and I wish my breasts normally looked like that!

Ugh

Unfortunately, I am dying (okay, exaggeration) and have a nasty case of ... something. I slept 11 hours last night, almost four this afternoon, and I'm ready for bed again. I tried to stand for awhile and got as close to I have ever been to passing out (big black blobs passed through my vision...romance novels are good for something, that's what always happens when a heroine passes out...maybe I can write this off as research?). Plus eating is not my friend...not even plain stuff. I spit out toast this morning, I couldn't even stomach the idea of swallowing it. I can't even stomach Gatorade. I'm going to have to call my uncle, he's a doctor.

Since I'll be home temporarily I'll try and keep writing...but sexy is not in my vocabulary at the moment. I think I maybe having to skip panty-parade with Shibari (I'm sad! Shibari let me know when the next one is!), and we'll have to see about HNT later.

Just thought I'd let you know.

Disney Turns me On

Is it wrong that I got turned on by a Disney song today?

Maybe I should clarify that. It wasn’t the Disney song per se, it was my thought process after the Disney song.

It went a little something like this (good luck understanding it):

“Bonjour” from Beauty & the Beast is playing on my stereo…I’m singing along, “There goes the baker with his tray like always. The same old bread and rolls to sell…Good morning monsieur!”…you know, Giada de Laurentiis had that travel show episode in Paris, France…I liked when she went to the little markets…I wonder how she found those great little markets, and why did the French people speak so nicely to her when she barely spoke French?...maybe you could ask a concierge for directions to those kinds of markets…but I can’t speak French beyond “Bonjour” and “I would like…,” that doesn’t bode well for asking for recommendations…maybe if I had a man with me that speaks French…*imagine tall, dark, and handsome man speaking French well, even though he’s American—while I hug him and he holds me close*…damn, men who speak French turn me on….

And thus, a terribly innocent Disney song from the lovely Beauty & the Beast turned me into a slavering idiot in traffic at 4:45 in the afternoon.

It did get me thinking about “types” of guys…particularly “French Seducers” and “Latin Lovers.” I’ll admit, I’ve never been particularly attracted to either. Frankly, I’d prefer to know what they are saying. Antonio Banderas has never turned me on…Benjamin Bratt does nothing for me…and I don’t know any French actors by name, but French films that I have seen have never had men where I just wanted to rewind the scene so I could watch the hotness-factor again (now give me a Brit or a Scot…whole other story…but that is at least partially the accent).

But I do like a man who can speak another language, and speak it well. There is something infinitely sexy about that (clearly, since I get turned on just thinking of a guy speaking French). It’s more of a turn on to me though to hear a guy speak French (as an example) in an everyday setting than in an actual romantic setting (like when he’s asking for a recommendation of a cheese at a Parisian market, for example) :-) Not that it isn’t lovely when the words are romantic, but for some reason speaking a language on a day-to-day basis just strikes me as a complete fucking of my mind. You have to be really intelligent to be multi-lingual I think, it’s hard to keep up a language, when you learn it in America especially, because we are not readily exposed to many languages that are often taught in schools. (I was a Spanish minor in college and can barely speak the language at all)

My friend, Chinaman (his self-chosen moniker, not mine), is from America, is half-Singaporean, grew up in London, and is pretty much the most brilliant human I know. He is one of those guys that can pick up an instrument and teach himself to play it within a matter of hours, and can also learn the music to be able to read it. He plays trumpet, piano, and guitar…and I think French horn, but don’t quote me on that. He also graduated with honors from university, attended Cambridge University (yes, THE Cambridge, in England) for Graduate studies and is now in the PEACE Corps in China (hence the nickname). He also speaks English (obviously), French, and Chinese fluently. With a little Spanish somewhere too. Insanely brilliant. I really would like him to be my “back-up” guy…like if neither of us are married by the time he’s forty, I want to marry him (okay, maybe when he's 35--I want the chance to have his children if I'm marrying him, it would be like bearing Einstein).

But when he’s drunk, he speaks other languages—it’s just a natural progression for him—and I really enjoy it when he speaks French. I kind of come in my panties when he speaks French. I mean, I’m attracted to him in general (he’s an attractive guy), although I have never really developed a proper crush on him…but I’d have sex with him if he just spoke French to me. Especially if he talked dirty to me in French (he has kind of, he taught me how to say “Lick my pussy” in French…and had me yelling it up and down the streets of London before telling me what it meant)…but I’d be okay if he talked about cheese and bread too. I’m not picky, as long as it’s French.

Is this just me? Is speaking another language just a turn-on for women? I don’t hear about it enough from guys, but maybe they like it too. Let me know—and no fair leaving messages in other languages without telling me what they mean (although if you actually leave messages about fromage, I probably won’t truly find it much of a turn on if I know what it means). :-)

How very... traditional

While my mom and I are fairly close (I’d probably consider her one of my good friends—she doesn’t know everything about me, but she does know at least a couple of my big secrets), I sometimes wonder how she can miss some things about me. Although, the same things I think she is missing may be things that she just gets better than me from a more objective point-of-view.

Maybe not.

We talked, last week, about political affiliations (another blog entirely), and what she thinks I am politically. We then got onto the subject of welfare (which we both don’t like, but for different reasons—I think there should be free healthcare and education, but I don’t think the welfare system should stand beyond that; she thinks there should only be free education and welfare shouldn’t stand beyond that…but again, that’s another post entirely). She did say however, that she thought sterilization should be free for women and men. Completely free to anyone over 18 who wanted it.

I disagreed that the age should be 18. I thought 25 was better, because at 18, almost none of the women I knew/know want kids. I bet nearly 85% of the women I have known while they are 18 say, “Abso-fucking-lutely not. I never want kids.” And that idea lasts for a few years, until about the time they get out of college and suddenly they are thinking in five year plans and what they ultimately want out of life and really they do want to get married, and they do want to have a family and kids (I’d guess about ninety percent of the 90% have changed their tune since graduating college). My best friend Paige was probably the most adamant person I have ever met about never wanting kids. Then she got out of college, got married, and is suddenly saying that yeah, she would like kids in the next ten years. At least one, but probably two or three.

When I told my mom this theory of mine (has anyone else had this experience?) she said, “Do you think that way?” And I said, “Well, I don’t want kids right this minute, but once I’m out of law school, yeah I would like to have kids—probably in the next ten years sometime.” She was very nearly flabbergasted. Her reaction? “But, that’s so…traditional.”

I’m not entirely sure where she got the impression that I’m not traditional, but that really surprised me. Yes, I used to bitch about my friends always making me take the “Mother” role with them (some going so far as to call me “Mama Rae”), but that’s because I shouldn’t have had to be a mother to my friends just because I wasn’t much of a drinker. I had to play mom at my own 21st birthday party when one of my roommates ripped a cord out of the wall (I don’t even know how she did it), but I’d already puked and rallied (sorry, TMI) off Jello-shots and apparently my “rally” just means just means oh-you-puked-now-you-get-to-be-sober-the-rest-of-the-night-no-matter-how-many-cups-of-Jungle-Juice-and-Jello-Shots-you-take. I hated having to play mom, but apparently my message got lost in translation to my own mother and she thought that meant I hated being a mother period, not just being a mom to my friends.

I do have an oddly motherly side to me though (probably why I turned into Mama Rae in the first place), and for how well my mom knows me, I am so surprised that she doesn’t know that about me. Maybe it’s because she isn’t traditionally motherly.

The other thing that surprised me about her was when we had a conversation about what age of guy is appropriate for my friends and me. My friend, Laney, generally needs to date older guys (or has in the past—she’s now dating a 21-year-old, while she’s 24 and seems quite happy overall). We’re talking age 30-plus. Even at age 20 she was better suited to older guys. But Paige really has always been best suited to guys that are around our age, within a couple years. Her husband is only a year older than us.

Laney said that I definitely needed to date someone older…which I agree with, but having not done much dating, I guess I don’t know what age guy suits me. My mom, however, said that I definitely needed to date someone older and she also said, “I think I could picture you marrying someone 20 years older than you.”

The Electra complex of that statement freaked me out. I get the whole idea of “marrying-your-opposite-sex-parent” thing, where you really end up marrying someone like your own father (assuming he was a good father-figure to you), or guys end up marrying someone like their own mother—but I think twenty years older than me is just too much. My cousin is dating someone 12 years older than her, which I think I could probably see as a cut off for me personally. I would say at least 6 years older up to 12 years older is probably best for me personally. I was just shocked that my mom thought 20 years. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t think I want children and a guy that age might be less likely to want kids too? I have no idea, and she didn’t really have an idea either of why she thought that.

I have no doubt I’ll marry someone like my dad—who will embarrass his kids by dancing too much and acting like a goofball, but god I hope he isn’t too much like my dad. My dad and I fight constantly because we are so similar, but more than anything because people always tell us how similar we are. Drives me nuts! I’m 23, I’d really prefer not to be known as the Bobbsey-Twins with my dad.

I'm not in the market for kids anytime soon, and I certainly entertain the idea of having a happy little Brangelina-style family with both biological and adopted children, but it's definitely given me something to think about. I guess I have that stereotypical female clock going on--it's unplugged at the moment, but I see me plugging it back in within five or seven years.

So, is there anything that your friends or parents—the people who know you best—would be surprised to know about? My friends know I’m a horny bastard, and I’m fairly positive my mom knows that I have a sex toy or two hidden away (yay for underwear drawers), but for some reason, my nurturing nature just doesn’t come across to her. Let’s hear it—what’s the not-quite-secret that your nearest and dearest don’t quite get?

Just in case you'd like to know...

Mmmm.

I couldn't wait when I got home. My readings before class were too good, too hot, and left me too turned on.

The bathtub was the first place I ever got off, and today I returned there, lighting candles, dimming lights, and stripping naked to climb into the warmth--the water running over my legs, softening. Steam lifting off my wet skin.

My mind fuck material was Emma Holly's All U Can Eat (get it). The scene was first of the protagonist driving her "slave" crazy, while he fucked her senseless, and her "favorite" fucking the slave in the ass with his cock at the same time. Male-on-male...almost nothing gets me hotter. It didn't sit well with me though, it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted a man driving deep, filling the protagonist up with his thick cock.

The next scene was perfect--first our hero fucked out heroine on the the kitchen floor, his cock literally almost too big to fit her small pussy. Stuffed so full she was screaming for it, but even more he stood her up, cuffing her to a pole outside and drove into her from behind.

This is when I came...hard, fast and pulsing, my leg thrown over the side of the tub. My neck arched, my hips rolled, and I came with a sigh.

It wasn't screaming, it wasn't even my best.

But damn was it satisfying. :-)

I must learn...

I’m turned on. I particularly blame Bad, Bad Girl for this, because her blog today was so hot I thought I might just explode from reading it.

I must learn that I shouldn’t read blogs before I have to go to class—too many turn me on and I’m sitting, dripping for hours when the only thing I want to do is go home, lay on my bed, and run my fingers under the sides of my panties…okay I have to stop. I'm going to need a spanking at this rate (I'm really getting into that fantasy lately).

I’m seriously considering booking it out to my car and getting off just to relieve the pressure.

But I won’t, because a little waiting is good for me. A little building pressure makes me come so hard later that I like to drive myself crazy for a little bit.

Still, I’m turned on…and don’t quite know what to do about it.

HNT #3

I just could not decide this week for HNT. I really don't love this picture anyway (loved it even less before I cropped it). But I thought consistency would be a good change in my life, so I'm going to try and keep up on HNT (at least for awhile). I almost posted two pics, and then realized I hated the other one and was so not HN, so here-ya-go!























Happy Halloween HNT!