Post #100! Oh, and HNT – November 5th, 2009

This is my official post #100! If you’ve been following me from the beginning, you may know that there were a large number of posts I cut out when coworkers found my blog. But as it stands now, this is number one-zero-zero! And I’m very proud.

To commemorate this occasion, here are 100 things you may or may not have known about me sexually!

1. I love sex.
2. I lost my virginity at 18, in the back of a car, on prom night.
3. I had my tongue pierced for four reasons: a) it was 2-4-1 piercing day at the parlor, b) I loved the way it looked, c) I admit, I did want to use it while giving head, and d) my man at the time had his done and ohgodyes did that ever feel good!
4. I like it rough.
5. My ‘number’ is between 15 and 25.
6. I regret only one of those.
7. I’ve been titty-fucked.
8. I’ve had a MMF threesome.
9. I haven’t had a FFM threesome (but I want to!).
10. I’ve dated and/or slept with guys of these nationalities: Persian, Saudi Arabian, Russian (x2), Indian, English, Lebanese, Kurdish, Cuban, South African, Mexican, and American.
11. I have an FBI record for dating the Saudi Arabian… and the FBI knew details of my sex life I hadn’t given them myself. Creepy. [Only now, I share my sex life with the entire internet, so I guess I can't really complain.]
12. I used to get sent home early from pre-school for taking my clothes off and trying to chase the boys so I could kiss them.
13. My first serious boyfriend (age 16) once tried to get me to touch his penis (I had never before touched one!), and when I said no, we compromised that I would just “look at it for a little bit.”
14. I was once choked during sex (by someone I trust to the highest degree). It was hot.
15. I used whipped cream as a sex toy for the first time when I was 17.
16. I love being on top… but I love it more if he’s grabbing my hips and moving me up and down.
17. I have a clitoral hood piercing.
18. I’ve had sex on a kitchen counter… that wasn’t mine. Or his.
19. I’m incredibly aroused by women, especially lesbian porn… but in practice, I’m totally straight.
20. I’ve been tied up.
21. I’ve tied someone up.
22. The oldest person I’ve had sex with was 17 years my senior.
23. I once stuck the handle of a hairbrush up someone’s ass.
24. I only have one nipple pierced, and I’ll probably keep it that way.
25. I once got fingered in a sandbox at a playground (I was 17). It definitely wasn’t a repeat experience.
26. My favorite movie sex scene is in The Red Violin, when the gypsy girl is fucking the violinist as he plays.
27. I’ve had sex in front of a stranger.
28. I like to read Craigslist ads searching for a girl for a FFM threesome. I’ve never responded, but I think it would be really hot to be a “couple’s toy” for a night.
29. I like nibbling on ears.
30. A recurring theme in my fantasies is being slammed up against the wall.
31. One of my hottest sexual experiences was Engineer fucking me as we both watched ourselves in the mirror.
32. I love watching guys masturbate.
33. I’ve always, always wanted to have sex in a library.
34. I used to work for Starbucks and I always wanted to do an HNT in just my green apron… Unfortunately, I gave them all away when I quit.
35. I think champagne is the sexiest drink to have with a lover. It has a sexy name, it comes in a sexy glass, and it has a sophistication to it that even wine does not.
36. In that vein, I have always wanted someone to drizzle champagne on me and lick it off.
37. In high school, I was the romantic and my best friend Bear was the sex goddess. Not that she isn’t any less goddess-y, but now, the roles have sort of switched. As is, she prefers relationships and I enjoy casual sex.
38. I buy bedsheets based on how sexy I think they look.
39. I love water sex – I’ve had sex in a pool, a shower, and a hot tub. I also love making out in the rain and hope to have sex during a thunderstorm.
40. I’ve never owned more than two sex toys at a time.
41. In Israel, I once had to deter a guy who was trying to have sex with me in a bathroom. My Hebrew isn’t great, so the only thing I could think to say was, “Bad time of the month!” (which wasn’t true!).
42. I used to fuck a customer from the bar who we all called Motorcycle Marty.
43. Since getting to the UK, I’ve had sex only seven times.
44. I had sex in the middle of a baseball diamond.
45. I’ve fucked a college football player.
46. My almost first kiss resulted in me laughing in the guy’s face. Oops! But to be fair, he tried while my dad was driving him home and we were in the backseat. It was not the time nor the place.
47. Ever since I became confident sexually, I’ve wanted to have revenge sex with this guy I met freshman year. I had sucked, and he was a jerk.
48. My favorite toy right now is my LELO Lily that RainCityBaby got me.
49. Three people I’ve slept with know about this blog. I don’t think any of them read it regularly and I’m not sure one of them has ever even looked for it.
50. In the last week, I have made myself cum at least three times a day.
51. The most used tags for my blog are (in alphabetical order): breasts, cock, dating, fucking, HNT, pussy, sex, and the Engineer.
52. I think my ass is my best sexual feature. So do most of my sexual partners.
53. Despite that, I’ve never had anal sex.
54. I have been rimmed though.
55. I prefer finger-fucking to oral sex, but it’s best if they’re combined.
56. I used to hate having my breasts touched. It reminded me of my first boyfriend.
57. My first vibrator was actually really good. It was a multi-speed/multi-function ribbed bullet which was incredibly powerful and lasted a year and a half until I dropped it.
58. I started reading sex blogs when I googled “How to give a blowjob” and landed on The Over-Educated Nympho’s How-To. I was 18.
59. My roommate freshman year and I once tried to learn how to dirty talk by writing an anonymous naughty letter to one of the boys down the hall. We taped it to his door and ran away giggling. It had choice phrases like “I love your coffee-colored skin and want you to put your cream in my cup.”
60. I once gave someone a blowjob in his kitchen while a party happened in his living room.
61. I think the sexiest thing about a man is the V of his hips leading down to his cock. I love when his trousers slip just enough that it’s subtly visible.
62. I once had sex on a giant trampoline.
63. I’ve had sex with a guy who had a Prince Albert.
64. I really want to fuck a guy with a strap-on.
65. The second guy I ever had sex with was a frat guy with a “reputation.” Screw the rep, we were safe, and he really knew what he was doing.
66. I like ribbed condoms better than smooth.
67. I hate when guys are quiet in bed. I like to hear you moaning as you cum.
68. I always tear up a little when I deep-throat… and for some reason, I love how sexy and slutty that makes me feel.
69. I don’t like 69ing. Can’t concentrate on what I’m doing. Two people doing half-assed oral isn’t as good as one person giving their full attention.
70. I like (rationally) jealous boyfriends.
71. I like silly sex.
72. I once had sex after drinking a few shots of Absinthe. It was incredibly heightened sensation-wise and we had to stop because it felt so good it hurt.
73. I am really turned on by being told what to do.
74. I have never ‘made love.’
75. I love teasing a guy while he’s on the phone.
76. One of my hottest first kisses with a guy was in a theatre dressing room.
77. I am often the one to take initiative sexually.
78. I think spontaneous bondage – being tied up with a tie, a belt, or some other everyday object – is infinitely hotter than bondage toys.
79. Until recently, I could not always make myself cum during masturbation.
80. My first real orgasm was during a bubble bath.
81. I once signed up for a Sugar Daddy dating website. I went on one dinner date, but it was really not my thing. Nothing happened.
82. I read somewhere vanilla, as a scent, is one of the strongest aphrodisiacs for men, so I always try to have something with vanilla in it in my bathing/perfume routine. Currently, it’s a vanilla bodywash.
83. I love playing with nipples.
84. If ever necessary, I have music picked out to striptease to.
85. Before I leave university, I really want to fuck a professor.
86. I don’t own any panties that aren’t thongs or boyshorts. No granny panties or even bikini briefs in my underwear drawer! (Oh, wait. Except ONE pair that is lacey and leopard print, but y’know. Close enough.)
87. I really want to fuck Jonathan Rhys Meyers.
88. My best friend Bear taught me how to give head with a big, black, suction cup dildo.
89. I love having my hair pulled.
90. I sometimes forget how non-vanilla I am and how many non-vanilla things I’m aware about that others aren’t and shock people.
91. I’ve had sex with a sexy firefighter, though he wasn’t wearing his uniform at the time. Backdraft was on in the background, though…
92. I wish more guys would want you to put your finger up their ass.
93. I love being naked.
94. I think it’s fun to go out somewhere “freshly fucked”.
95. A partner and I once broke a key off a keyboard AND a blender in what he referred to as the “throes of passion.”
96. I hate sex terms like “donkey punch”, “Dirty Sanchez”, etc. I especially hate “superman”, but that’s mostly because Soulja Boy is an idiot.
97. I think sexting is totally hot.
98. I was once given a joke candy-cane shaped vibe for X-mas… and he totally used it on me later that night.
99. I have incredibly nice canvas posters on my wall… of yummy erotica.
100. I’m cheating for #100… It’s my HNT! But you get four pictures this week and a bit more than I usually show (above the neck, anyway ;P risky? perhaps… but I like a little risk!), so I think it’s worth #100.

*click*

Last week for Halloween, I was a faerie. I found this wonderful Venetian carnival mask…

*click!*

Don’t forget to stop on by Osbasso’s! Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday everyone, and Happy 100 to me!

No Time for Sleeping

[Bomb - Bitter:Sweet]

You may remember I was trashed out of my mind last time. To a point where I was a little worried I wasn’t going to recognize him when he arrived at the rail station. But I did recognize him, thanks to some hidden workings by some lusty love goddess, and he was even sexier than I remembered. I just wanted him to pick me up with his big arms, toss me over his broad shoulder, and carry me home.

London Guy should have been a porn star. Seriously. He is muscled and handsome and oh my lord, his dick is amazing. It’s big and thick and you just want to stick it in you. And did I…

It hurts, it’s so big. It’s like being a virgin again, except I know where to touch, lick, and suck now. It hurts in a good way, a pain that arches my back and soaks me a little more, urging him deeper than I thought I could take. His hands are equally as big, wrapping around my breasts and waist and running up and down my back, feeling incredibly gentle for a man who is so big in stature and… other things.

Mick Payton's Pure Passion

We fucked all weekend. Quickies in the afternoon, marathons at night; it was sex for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We took time out only to dance in dark, sexy clubs, grinding against one another, licking the salt off one another’s skin, taking shots of tequila, and then sucking the limes from one another’s lips. And except for that (and one swelteringly sensual shower together), he spent the weekend nestled between my cabernet-coloured bed sheets, using me and being used by me, my piece-of-meat man. And, panting, flushed, and content, we stretched out side-by-side after our ferocities and let our hands roam until we could do it again.

I definitely think another trip to London is in order…

Step Right Up, You’re the Next Contestant

[The Mating Game - Bitter:Sweet]

It didn’t take long, did it?

A month in and I have two amazing prospects. Not just prospects: conquests. The one I’ve written about last post and a boy who’d you’d know of if you follow me on Twitter. I suppose I might need blog names for them, even. We’ll call the first London Guy and the second Narcissus.

London Guy called me this week wondering if he could come up to my Uni and see me. I agreed immediately – he is gorgeous, charming, and witty. The memory of his body, not to mention his beautiful cock, makes me slick. He might be here Thursday, maybe the weekend after. I owe him, anyway, after his patience with me in my uber-drunken state, so you best believe, readers, he will be shown a very good time.

As for Narcissus… Well, I’m sure you can figure out from his nickname what he’s most interested in talking about. Why did I even bother answering his texts after we met at a club? I don’t know. I had a strangely good feeling about seeing him again. Despite his incessant blather about his job and his money and his car and oh, he’s got a modeling job, and this, that, and the other (all of which sound like boastful lies), I took him back to the dorms anyway and my good feeling was correct: he was fan-fucking-tastic in bed.

His narcissicism seems to dissolve the moment his clothes come off. He becomes an incredibly giving partner – licking and burying his fingers in me until I can’t stand it, then fucking me every which way. I needed to bite down on my hand to keep from moaning too loud and revealing to my flatmates what was going on. It was like this both nights – though the moment we were finished, it was back to “Chat-lie-chat-chat-lie-me-me-lie-me.” By the end of the second night, I wasn’t putting up with it, told him he could let himself out, I was going to sleep. It wasn’t as rude as that sounds, but it certainly made me feel good to get some silence in my room.

I know this is just a quick update, but I have some erotica in mind to start writing soon. I’m just so excited about London Guy coming! I’ll be letting you guys know what happens when it does.

My London, London Bridge Wanna’ Go Down

[London Bridge - Fergie]

In case you haven’t noticed, I am a party girl. I love dancing and booze and wearing miniskirts and heels. I adore the bustling noise of a club, lights flashing, the bass in your bones. You can imagine how a Friday night in London touring Old Street and Leicester Square made my heart skip a beat with joy.

Tiny skirt? Check. Sexy backless clingy top? Check. Gorgeous new red pumps? Double check.

Armed with my hot outfit and a double vodka/red bull, I began to peruse the merchandise. There are hot men everywhere. There was a slick in my panties every time I turned around, and by the second club, I’d found him.

Tall and muscular with a strong nose, we met when he told me a trick to getting in the club for less money. We met again later on the dance floor, and he pulled me to the side and bought me a drink. We danced and danced, and drank and drank, and then my lightweight petite-ness kicked in and I blacked out.

Flash of a rickshaw ride in the drizzling rain, another flash of me yelling loudly about sexual satisfaction on a bus. I was just getting a more sober point where things were coming into focus and bam! Another club, two-thirds of a bottle of wine, and it’s back to flashes. Flash of a key in a cigarette case, being sick on my hostel bed, and then nothing.

Until I woke up.

In a hotel.

In Clapham.

Next to a guy whose name I did not know.

He WAS the guy I met in the queue, luckily, and I admired him once more in a mostly sober state. Definitely worth the night, though I knew so little of the details. I figured we hadn’t had sex since I woke up clothed, and as he came to himself, we chatted for a little while and then began to remedy the situation.

The man’s pants came off and I think my jaw dropped. His cock was huge. Not scary-huge, but not at all what I was expecting. It was as gorgeous as he was, which was lovely and fitting and oh God, felt so good… I must have still been tipsy because I remember so little else except cock, cock, big cock, amazing cock, want it in me right away cock. Unfortunate, that hazy bit, because I do have a solid remembrance of it being great sex.

But fortunately, when I got back to the hostel, my travel buddy knew his name. We texted for the rest of the weekend – he may come visit me at my Uni. Impressive, considering what a drunken fool I was. I would never have wanted to see me again. And honestly, if I don’t see him, I’m quite content with my wild London night. Planning to do it again sometime soon, even.

So Please Don’t Stay in Touch

[Fuck You - Lilly Allen]

I am, in fact, alive and here in the UK safely.

I am not, in fact, having a wild sexcapade every night and seducing all the British boys. In fact, it’s become my main culture shock. The dating/fucking/whathaveyou scene here is QUITE different. It turns out, I’m only attracted to Englishmen if they’re gay rugby players (of course, that’s not entirely true, English readers, but it does seem to be a trend in the men I’ve approached in clubs…).

Now, as depressed as I am about the lack of sex, I need to make it fairly clear that I have had my chances. I’ve been on two dates already and it’s only been a week and a half. Unfortunately, neither turned out to be prospects I really was interested in. The first seems like he’s more interested in getting wasted with his mates than actually flirting with me.

The second guy did get me over to his house – under the pretense of photography and music discussion. We hung out in his bedroom and it was like high school. I had to force myself not to roll my eyes when his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against my thigh. When he held my hand, I wanted to throw up a little. He nuzzled my shoulder before kissing me and oh, good lord, how he does not kiss well.

It began with pecks. This was no melt into his lips sort of kissing. It was a series of peck, peck, peck, peckpeckpeckpeck, peck. I thought maybe it would be better if we added more of the “french” variety in. Picture your tongue, a rather flexible muscle. Now imagine if that muscle were held rigid. WHILE KISSING. Our tongues didn’t tango so much as tap-dance.

And of course, he kept his hands roaming. For all this unpassionate kissing, his hands were quick to action. I pretty much knew the moment he caressed my fingers that this was a bad idea. I don’t know why I continued to give it a shot. I ended up having to tell him to slow down (as early on as him trying to unclasp my bra). The whole thing just felt so… off.

He wanted to keep kissing but I gave him an incredibly bullshit excuse and asked him to take me back to my flat. I felt like shit. I hate lying, but I don’t know how to nicely tell someone I’m not attracted to them. And plus, he tried to lick my lips with his rigid tongue! It was fucking weird.

I will find a British boy to fuck, damnit! I am determined and not deterred after this mess of an experience.

Looks So Nasty in Those Khakis

[Bitch of Living - Spring Awakening]

It was an hour drive to the hotel he’d booked, and we began our journey as the sun began to set. The mood was light-hearted – 80’s music playing on the iPod, bellies full from a good dinner, lots of smiling and laughing and catching up with one another. But as it is with us, the trip was only half-through when his hand began to snake up my thigh. I switched the playlist to something a little more… suitable.

We were rubbing at one another furiously over our clothes, his fingers trying in vain to get beneath the hem of my shorts, though his cock had somehow already been released from his business khakis. My fingers coiled around his hardening penis, his world slipping through my fist. He became frustrated with my ass-clinging denim and demanded I take them off.

So I took them off. I like being told what to do.

Half-naked and having my clit rubbed in the passenger seat as we passed other cars had me salivating from sheer excitement. I didn’t care about the danger – I needed him in my mouth.

“Just pull over if you get too distracted,” I murmured as I leaned over, leaving my naked ass practically pressed against the passenger side window.

His cock, as I’ve said, is glorious. Long and delicious and I wanted it. There wasn’t time to play around with teasing licks and maddening caresses – this was take-it-to-the-hilt, down-my-throat time.

I started sucking, slipping my lips over the head and then plunging down to get the full dick. I began slurping like I needed that cock, no longer a naive newbie and frightened of sounding unladylike. No, this was a wet, noisy cock sucking. If I had been able to pull my mouth away from it, trails of spit and pre-cum would have followed, glistening off the head of his dick and ending at my slutty, satisfied smirk.

He was moaning loudly, clutching the wheel with one hand and the back of my head with the other. I love that – it’s like a challenge. I can’t always make it all the way down, to be honest. He’s too big, but that’s okay, because he loves when I gag. And when my gagging sets him off into another groan of pleasure, then I love it, too.

I also loved the idea that anyone might have driven by and seen my ass in the air and my head buried in his lap. Some lonely trucker or shocked traveler catching a glimpse and realizing, with a double take, that yes, that girl really is doing what it looks like she’s doing. It made me wet to make the trucker hard or the traveler pant with just the idea of what’s happening in the lane next to them. It was so arousing to ostensibly be caught in the act and not even know it as we fly by in the rental car, defiling it with our dirty fun.

He began to thrust toward my mouth and I relished the added momentum, taking him in and letting my tongue wrap and unwrap around his cock as he bobbed against my lips. I gripped the bottom of his dick with one hand, rhythmically adding it to our road head machine. I began a pattern of tip, tip, tip, deep-throat and he went wild, absently pressing the gas as he got closer and closer to cumming.

70 – I sucked the tip, playing my tongue against the seam of his cock I love so much, running my piercing up and down it, alternating warm flesh with hard, stimulating metal.

80 – I slipped my free hand into his half-off boxers, playing with his balls as my mouth continued its frenzied fascination. “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails shuffled onto the iPod and we both groaned appreciatively as “I wanna fuck you like an animal…” reminded us of why we took this drive in the first place.

90 – I bucked against his hand, which had moved from the back of my head over to my lifted pussy – I couldn’t see from my desired position, but I hoped someone was driving next to us to watch him plunge his fingers in and out of me.

100 – I took as much of him as I could, choking on him and loving every second. “Oh, yeah,” he stammered, trying to concentrate on both the road and how deep I’d managed.

110 – He frantically began thrusting again and I matched his eager movements, one hand on his balls, the other pumping him against my lips and tongue. I was moaning now, anticipating his cum and begging for it wordlessly with my unbridled attention to his cock.

120 – He came, speeding down the freeway, shooting into my mouth. I stayed with my lips pressed around him, easing every last drop down my throat. He took his foot off the gas, breathing hard and I sat back in my seat, grinning, loving the filthy deliciousness of road head.

Turn Back the Hands of Time

[(Love Will) Turn Back the Hands of Time - Grease 2]

What is this, Blast from the Past Week?

First, Uninhibited Boy called me (I neglected to mention I went to high school with both him and Charming). We all remember how THAT turned out.

THEN, I got a Facebook message from another guy I went to high school with. He always sort of had a thing for me – and every single other girl he ever met. He was the football player “playa” type and “[didn't] measure penis size in inches but decibels of how loud it makes you scream.” He went a little out of character in this message and said, “if you’d like, I’d like to go for a walk and talk. Or sit poolside and do the same. I’ve always wanted to talk to you, just about nothing really.” Hm… I told him I’d see what my schedule was like.

Next (another one?!), I got a Facebook message from a guy I dated briefly two summers ago – a gorgeous Persian model who I never slept with but probably should have. Probably the hottest person I’ve ever kissed. Seriously. Stunning. And we always had great banter, too! I’m really excited to go to dinner with him. It will be nice to at least catch up, if not more…

But just when I thought Blast from the Past Week was over…

Went out with D last night and we were silly tipsy all over town. At 1:30, my phone beeped and I opened my drunken eyes wide enough to see a text from a frat guy I had sex with once last summer. Mind you, that was not just some beer-infused one night stand. I think he genuinely liked me and we’d hung out a few times before the actual sex happened. But with me working and going to school full-time, and him being in a major that allowed for little freedom (people in his field at school are known for sleeping in their academic building), we just couldn’t get together again.

I was surprised to see the text. But also drunk. So, even though I wanted to hang out with him, by the time he was done DDing for his friends, I was already passed out on D’s couch.

OH AND!

On the way to D’s house, we (being incredibly intoxicated) started talking to these guys who we saw walking across the street. All of a sudden, we realized we knew one of them – Douchebag, as D calls him, or Mr. Camaro, as I used to call him. I had met him at a party and we’d made out a few times at various house parties, but in the end, he DID prove himself to be a douchebag and I let it go. Not to mention, I think every one of his friends has hooked up with/has a history with one of my friends, so it’s good not to show up anywhere where they are. Verrrrry strange to run into him.

Hoping no one else appears in my life right now. Five flashbacks are quite enough!

I Love Drinking, I Love College

[I Love College - Asher Roth]

When I first began this blog, I thought there was going to be more drunken college sex – frat parties, typical college bars, keggers… I was stoked to write about all those crazy things we coeds do. But the trend has been toward older men lately and so I haven’t exactly had much University sex. No stereotypical wasted hook-ups or beer pong tourneys ending in streaking. In fact, I hadn’t slept with anyone under the age of 28 in about a year…

Until last night. Last night I became slutty, sloppy drunk. Last night will probably never repeat itself. Last night was… interesting, to say the least.

Last night found me buying booze for eight underaged college boys. I was the only 21 year old AND the only girl. And by the end of the drinking games (a game called something like Mushroom and then Moosehead), I was trashed. A few of us went outside, and someone decided it was a good idea to see if he could do the helicopter in the middle of the street. Clothes were shed and soon we were all daring one another to take our clothes off in the middle of a busy street near the University.

I don’t know who suggested we go on a walk, but soon, we’d split off into a group of three – me, the helicoptering naked boy who I’ll call Uninhibited Boy, and another attractive boy I’ll call Charming because he could sweet talk just about anyone (especially with his pretty babyface). At this point, I am stumbling drunk. Trashed. Wasted. Flashing semi-truck drivers and trying to attempt conversation with anyone who walks by. Last night, I regressed from tipsy, wild club girl to drunk college mess.

It wasn’t long into our walk before someone (I think it was Charming) brought up a threesome. And let me tell you, I have no idea how it was discussed or anything about how we decided in the end to do it, all I know is we had a destination – the top of the college music building to which Charming had keys – and we were going to make a condom pitstop on the way.

I don’t know how we afforded condoms, only that we suddenly had some, and I don’t remember much else until we were suddenly on top of a parking garage (unclear about what fell through concerning the music building). I guess Uninhibited Boy called first because that’s what happened. Charming waited, then came over and I know I sucked his cock while UB did me from behind… Eiffel Towered, as the kids call it these days.

Details are fuzzy. Charming licked off my clit ring at one point though the memory of him going down on me is missing. I do remember trying to concentrate on keeping a cock in my mouth and my piercing jewelry in my hand. I lost it eventually (the ring, not the cock, of course. I’m sad about losing the opals…).

I only wish I remembered more of what was probably the sluttiest thing I’ve ever done. I’m not sure I would have done it sober, but don’t get me wrong, I’m not really wallowing in reget or anything. Just chalking it up to being a crazy night at University after too much beer! I’d like to just have my slut moment and leave it there. Give those boys a one night stand to remember.

Ah, classic college memories… Being fucked while completely trashed by two guys on top of the parking garage while the sun rises overhead. I think my mobile Twitter post says it best: “just had her firsu mmf threesime. dink. srunk. yep”

Disturbia

[Disturbia - Rihanna]

I have decided to end things with Bad Boy. I’m really sad about that, as I have no doubt we would have continued to have fantastic sex and to explore things we’ve both wanted to do – IF it had never been brought up. However, I can’t forget the secret he told me and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. Because of the way he presented it to me, I will always have it in my head and will not be able to enjoy sex with him.

It is really difficult for me to accept in myself an inability to accept someone’s sexual kinks. I usually strive to learn about and understand even the most ‘out there’ fetishes, but this turned my stomach. It surprised me to find the line of where my sexual boundaries end based on not just distaste, but disturbance factor.

So, there you are. Even as a sex-positive, GGG, open sex blogger, I have a line I can’t cross. I’m really sorry to have figured it out this way. I dread BB’s next phone call because I haven’t yet told him I need to end it between us.

Please let the Engineer get sent to my city again! I miss him and his gorgeous cock. Especially with the loss of BB, I will be hornier than ever. I don’t want to let the Engineer even leave the hotel bed…

We’re Leaving Things Unsaid

[Unsaid - The Fray]

When is it okay to reveal a deep, dark secret from your past?

I am not dating Bad Boy, but last night (after I gave in, texted him, and ended up at his house at 2 a.m.) he divulged to me a few things I was not fully comfortable knowing… I understood why he brought it up, as it totally had an effect on his sexuality and the kinks we’re beginning to explore together, but I had to stop him in the middle of his THIRD story about this secret and tell him, “Hey, I have no problem talking about this, but it doesn’t turn me on, and so maybe during sex isn’t the best time?”

Considering he wanted to fetishize it, it made me really uncomfortable. And even though I told him we should talk about it later, I am not his girlfriend and I am not his therapist and I am not responsible for this “deep, dark secret.”

It wasn’t weird enough for me to stop fucking him. After all, once I asked him to stop talking about it, he did. For some people, it might have been the kind of thing to send them running for the door, but I am not your usual sex partner. If it gets brought up again, then I would probably approach it in a more serious manner, but for now, I just want to let it go far, far away from my mind.

I admit I have indulged the need to talk and have whispered secrets I maybe shouldn’t have shared about my past. The Performer and I actually had a really deep conversation about dark things that had happened to us that I was not even aware I was okay with sharing (especially not with someone I might never see again). But it was the kind of beautiful moment that left both of us teared up and holding one another, not wondering if sanity has temporarily fled the mind.

So what do you think?

(Just so you know, the rest of the night was fucking AWESOME, as was this morning/afternoon, so it didn’t put a damper on the sex, but it did get me thinking.)