Glazing the Donut

Changes

2008-02-24T14:21:00.003-05:00

Daddy T and I broke it off. It was and unhappy ending and I was actually pretty heart broken about it. He sincerely wants to stay friends, but that's always so awkward for me; especially considering how much I still want to be able to fuck him. But moving forward: trying to take care of myself, and focus on some other things in life right now that need to be resolved.

Mr. Squirts is in the hospital, so I've really only been hooking up with Mr. Bricks. But had a club date with a cute girl on Saturday, and going out again on Wednesday.

Went to an all night party at a friend's house last night, and ended up in one of the spare bedrooms with a male friend of mine. He's cute and funny, and we had great conversation all night long. Lying in bed, making out, he's treating me right - pinning me down, choking me, playing with my tits just right, fingering me until I got off. And then he puts my hand down his pants... and he's small. With the largest balls I've ever experienced. It was like two fists side by side. Craziness.

Busy Week

2008-02-02T13:33:00.000-05:00

I've been fisted and fucked so rough in the last four days that my cunt is raw and seriously torn up. Hurts to sit. So swollen.

Mr. Bricks is very long and he often hurts me after a long session. I've bled the next day and swear that once or twice he's popped my cervix. On Wednesday, we did 69 with him on top (my favorite way) so he could fuck my mouth; I stretched my head back and was able to open my throat enough to take all of him. He started crying out with joy. It was the best!

Mr. Squirts is my BF in the open marriage, and he almost always makes me squirt... saw him on Thursday. Him and the wife and the kid are staying with his parents right now; his parents and his daughter were asleep upstairs and we fucked for hours in the den. It was like being a kid again, sneaking around! I fell asleep and he woke me up fisting me, saying "shh... just relax... just relax..." Also, I'd helped them run errands that day, so he gave me a full body massage... mmm...

Daddy T tore my pussy apart with more fisting and rough sex on Friday. Clothespins on my nipples, tits, and outer labia. There was also lots of fun Daddy/daughter role play and dirty talk. We finished in the shower with him sitting on the tiled seat and me standing over him, pissing all over his face and torso and lap. Then lots of rough oral with his fingers in my hair bobbing my head up and down. I went to a party and he went to play poker, and I came home at 3:30AM to him sitting on my porch waiting for me. We went inside and passed out, and I woke up an hour or so later to him licking my asshole fervently with my dirty panties wrapped around his dick, jacking himself off. I woke him up this morning riding him, even though it hurt so bad; then got myself off with my vibe while he choked me and talked nasty.

That's not even the half of it.

Overstimulated

2008-01-30T13:37:00.000-05:00

Had a crazy night with Daddy T last Sunday. We were drinking a lot and I got a little too fucked up, so laid down to nap around 2AM. Woke up because he was fucking my cunt with a thick, coiled bundle of braided nylon rope, slightly smaller than his fist. We fooled around, our usual fun nasty talk, kissing, slapping around.

He tied my hands behind my back with the rope - which I haven't let anyone do to me in YEARS (trust issues). He put me on my back and ate me out. As I was grinding on his face it was pulling hard on my shoulder blades and smooshing my hands painfully. He flipped me over on my stomach, hands still tied behind my back, and fucked my ass hard.

I managed to squirm out of the loosened ropes and then went down on him. Earlier in the night, he'd admitted that one of his fantasies is forced oral so hard the girl throws up on him. My stomach was full of Vodka 'n Sprites, so I knew it wouldn't be messy and so went for it. He moaned, thinking I was being just drooly and spitty, and then the smell hit him and he realized what it was... I asked if he was okay with it, he enthusiastically said "YES" and so I came up on his cock and lap four or five more times. Sometimes he was forcing me down and sometimes I was. It was so cool to feel his cock head pop past my tonsils and way down into my throat. Made a mess of him, the sheets, my hair. So we went into the shower.

In the shower, I had to piss so he sat down on this little tiled seat we have in there and I stood next to him, putting my left foot up on the edge of the tub, and pissed all over his chest and lap while he finger banged me. One of our faves, and we've done that several times.

He stood up and pushed me down onto my knees under the spray of the shower head and gave me really rough oral under the water... it was going down my throat and nose, and totally drowning me around his cock. Kept having to spit up water and blow it out my nose, all while he's still fucking my face. He pulled out and came in my wet hair. Then showered me off, like a sweet daddy.

It was so much stuff that I wouldn't normally let someone to do me in such a short period of time, than I got a little freaked out. We changed the sheets and flipped the mattress, and then laid in bed twitching under the Xmas lights, not letting him hold me; he was just lying near me rubbing my ass with his fingers.

It totally mind fucked me.

Eat the Young

2008-01-27T13:42:00.000-05:00

The pros and cons of 21 year-old guys....

Pro: they get hard and stay hard

Con: they can have a lot of hang-ups

Pro: holy fuck, that shit stays hard as hell

Con: inexperience

Pro: they can cum without even losing that erection and just go again right away... and again... and again...

Con: they think they're complimenting me by saying how hot it is for them to be with an "older woman"

Pro: did I mention the ALL NIGHT ERECTION?

How to score in a fetish club

2008-01-25T13:44:00.000-05:00

Funny story...

Two weeks ago, I was at a fetish club night with my carriage whip (pics are in my main photo thing, in the top hat). The line was too long in the ladies room, so I go in the men's room - what I always do when it's too crowded. I'm pissing in the stall and my (male) BFF knocks to come in, so I let him; when I'm finished, I whip him on the ass a couple times before leaving so he can pee.

I walk out of the stall and there's a line of guys, looking at me. I say, "I just had to whip his ass a little while he was pissing."

Ten minutes later, I'm at the bar, and this kid comes up to me. 6'7" and young and cute. Starts talking to me. I put my hand on my ass - I always put my hands on someone's ass when I'm talk to them in the clubs, but when drunk forget that strangers don't know that and probably think I'm coming on to them. He leans over and kisses me. Kisses GOOD. Follows me around all night, like a puppy. Dances with me. Asks to come home with me. So I take him home. He spanked me really good, and tried choking at my request but wasn't too into it.

The next morning, he says that he was standing in line when I walked out of that men's room stall, and as soon as he was done in the john he came looking for me right away. And that's why he wanted me.

Didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't actually whipping my friend while he was pissing.

Lunch Hour

2008-01-23T13:46:00.000-05:00

My doorbell rang, and I open the door. Daddy T bursts in with a bandana around his face, slams the door, grabs a fistful of hair, and literally drags me to my bedroom. Proceeds to beat and rape me for the next hour, to the point where I was shaking and sobbing and apologizing and begging forgiveness. Partly because he was saying the cruelest things to me ever. Being so mean he was breaking my heart!

Pushing me around, hard hard hard slapping across the face, pinning me on the bed, pounding my ass with a dildo, skull fucking me; spitting all over my face, making me spit on his cock, using his cock to smear the drool and spit all over my face. Pushing me down on my belly, putting his full weight on top of me, fucking me hard in the cunt while choking me, spitting in my face, saying the most horrible things.

Grabbing my hair, shoving his sweaty ass crack in my face and forcing me to lick his asshole, while telling me what a disgusting worthless whore I am, and I'm crying and crying and crying.

My new daddy

2008-01-07T19:21:00.000-05:00

This new guy I'm seeing is out of this world nasty, dirty, disgusting; and it's the best thing ever. Our paired sexual chemistry is like none other. We're very intuitive about each other's sexual needs: I knew to call him "daddy" and he knew to choke me in response.

He'd apparently been lusting after me for weeks before working up the nerve to make contact, and his eagerness and excitement are such an ego boost. Every time he's come over, we end up spending 24 hours in bed; we just can't leave.

The last time he was over he kept me in my room, drinking and drinking and drinking until I was begging to piss. He started talking dirty and turned me on so much that I had to ride him, full bladder or not. I was feeling so sensitive, and squeezing around him so hard, trying not to piss all over him and the bed, it was the single best orgasm I've had in months. To the point where now I'm now considering only fucking when I have to pee.

After I stopped shaking, he took me to the bathroom, stripped us naked, and sat on the tiled ledge in my shower stall; he made me stand over him and commanded me to piss - all over his chest and lap, fingering me during and saying sweet, dirty things. I just kept pissing and pissing, for the longest damn time. When I was finally done, fell on my knees and put my head in his lap to lick him clean and suck him off, getting my face and hair all wet. He turned on the shower, stood up, and put me kneeling under the spray, where he face fucked me harshly with the water going in my mouth and nostrils.

I've done water sports before, but this was the first time it was truly hot to me.

Not Dead Yet

2007-10-22T21:28:00.001-04:00

So for the first time in I don't know how long, I logged into the email account associated with this blog and saw all the emails from people questioning where I'd gone and why I wasn't writing. Woah... never realized people would care about an anonymous slut on the internet (or maybe it's just that you missed the masturbation material?).

This year has been bad. Baaad. I spent the first six months of the year dealing with family issues, including my mother moving in with me. Then I lost my mother and brother, and shortly thereafter my non-monogamous boyfriend (The Captain) dumped me. After the break up, people came out of the woodwork to tell me what The Captain had really been up to: partners he never told me about (why the hell he'd do that when we were open, I have no idea), lies he'd told, and the fact that he didn't always use a condom. Thank god I've tested clean (on two tests now) but as an ethical slut I had to call every partner I'd had during the relationship and tell them what was up and to go get tested; boy was that fucking humiliating. Mixed in there was also the betrayal of a platonic friend who was one of my most trusted companions.

I spent the summer coping, drinking too much, going to too many clubs, and staying out too late at the after parties.

But things are getting better now. I've got a new job that I enjoy, and after a summer of temporary housing I finally have a great place to live. And I'm now reconnecting with the long distance friends and family I ignored this summer while coping through excessively partying.

Don't worry, babies - I've got fun stories to share. Stayed tuned. I'll start posting more regularly to play catch-up.

Pussy Hounds

2007-01-04T11:12:00.000-05:00

Went on one date with a heavily tattooed guy with a sweet face and an adorable Pit Bull. He gave great head: long and slow with the lower half of his face right up in there. His nose rubbing my clit while he tongued my hole, with his goatee tickling my asshole. Otherwise, not terribly memorable. Afterwards, he emailed repeatedly and I finally had to tell him that I didn't think there was enough chemistry to see him again. There really wasn't. Plus, he lives kinda far. Plus, the whole email harrassing turned me off.

Spent the night with an older Led Zeppelin fan. He also enjoyed getting his face all in there, even his eyes and eyebrows. It was so good trapping his head between my thighs and smothering him in my cunt. Drunk, I passed on out on his couch and then crawled into his bed the next morning. He was out like a light but his cock fully responded to some simple touches. I climbed on and rode him, with him waking up just enough to suck my tits and put his arms around my waist. Came, rolled off him, dozed, and did it all again before finally getting dressed and leaving with him still asleep. It was so nice to just get myself off and not make any effort to please the other person.

They were both Pussy Hounds: love love love to give oral and fascinated by pussy. They will bury their faces in a woman, smear her everywhere, lick up every last drop, and - specifically - after she comes they will sit back and stare at the pussy, touching it gently, pulling back the lips, examining it. That's what really signifies a guy is a Pussy Hound, that post-orgasm exam.

Double Duty

2006-12-18T10:24:00.000-05:00

Spent two nights in a row with The Captain last week, and we've moved from just rough sex into more S&M.

The first night, he started things off with a good, long flogging while I was bent over his bed. Full, hard thudding blows, and wrist-flicking strikes that sting. Hitting my back, shoulders, arms, thighs, calves, and of course my ass. My ass, my ass, my ass, until it was burning and hot. Attacking my palms and the bottoms of my feet until I was begging him to stop. Beating me until I was pressing my face into his mattress, inhaling the smell of him, and sobbing. For an hour, until I finally stood up, arms and legs shaking, and said, "please, please, no." Then he came up behind me, put his arms around me, and kissed the tears running across my cheeks and neck. And then, of course, fucking me until my eyes rolled back in my head. Fucking me in the ass so good it felt the top of my skull was going to blow off.

Later that same night, he flogged me again. Harder, mostly on my ass, while I was lying on the bed on my stomach. I was already so sore, and he did it hard enough and long enough that I started to zone out from the pain. The endorphins kicked in so much that I got drowsy and almost nodded off. So relaxed and so happy.

The next night, he flogged me even worse (because I'd asked him to). Again, bent over his bed, I was screaming into his mattress at the top of my lungs. Now, knowing my body better and how it can take a flogging, what kind of strikes don't bother me too bad and which ones I can barely tolerate (the flicking, stinging ones), he was able to really hurt me. Again he held me, from behind, when I'd had enough, then pushed me on the bed, on my knees, and fucked me while I was still weeping and shaking.

I slept over that night. We joked around, talked, and laughed a lot before going to bed. I nestled against him, with him arm around me, while sleeping. The next morning his alarm went off and while still half-asleep I felt him reach over, turn off the alarm, turn back and lean over me for a few seconds. Then he kissed me carefully on the lips and laid back down to doze off for a bit.

This sentimentality from him doesn't alarm me like it normally would because I know he's fucking other girls and that he doesn't want anything from me, except those hours we have together. And he knows I don't want anything from him, except those hours together. Maybe that's why it works, and we can be so affectionate together and compassionate to each other, because we know that neither of us owns the other.

Also, this past weekend, went on a date with an older male dominant and his young female submissive. That was an interesting dynamic. Seems like it'd be something where she and I were both submissive to him, but I was dominant over her. Although, I can tell that I'm definitely more sadistic than he is, and she might not realize what she'd be getting herself into. If I were to join a BDSM couple (man and woman), thinking I'd enjoy it more if the female and I were equals and dominant over the man. But at the same time, I'd love to be used like a whore by two men. Weird, huh?

Natural Sweetness

2006-12-10T11:13:00.000-05:00

The Scientist is shy sweetness epitomized. My age, around 5'9", black hair, dark eyes, wide and angular features, and the most lovely body. Strong, wide shoulders and thick, firm arms. A sexy tuft of chest hair and neatly trimmed pubes. A beautiful bubble butt and the thickest cock ever. Even more beautiful than this one. A treasure. As thick as my wrist, and he claims to never have been told by a girl before and not have known it was above average. (Whatever, you guys always know).

He's naturally and smoothly submissive in his manner, but seemingly only toward his women. The way he talks about other aspects of his life, it seems like he certainly isn't a pushover. The first time we got together for dinner, he revealed that while he'd always been passive and giving toward his girlfriends he'd never submitted before.

That threw me for a loop. Do I really want to fuck with someone so green? Who probably has a pitiful pain tolerance and all the cliched ideas of D/s that he's seen in porn?

But he was so sweet and roped me in. We were at his place, me sitting on his bed and him lying on it, talking, and he gently put his head on my knee, looking up at me from the corner of his eye. Again, he threw me for a loop - it wasn't a con and it wasn't a smooth move, but like the genuine supplication of a pet begging for affection. How could I not sweep him up and hurt him, hurt him, hurt him?

We started slow. He gave me a nice full-body massage, very long and giving and not sexually solicitious like most men rubbing you down before a fuck. He asked to go down on me, and did a fairly good job (slow with steady pressure and long licks). Then I made him undress and laid him out on the bed and examined him with my hands and mouth.

I usually like to do some kind of body exam with a new submissive, tying them up and poking around and figuring out which parts hurt too much and which hurt just right and those special spots that drive them wild when teased. With The Scientist, it was also to help ease him into the mindset and for me to figure out his level of pain tolerance.

Oh my, was I pleasantly surprised. He can take a lot of and shows GREAT potential for CBT. He wanted me to squeeze his cock and balls so hard it was amazing. Can't wait wait wait to work him over.

So it was your typical tame session, in many ways. But still fulfilling for me in his natural submissiveness and sweetness. His manner was so sincere and fluid, not played. There was lots of spanking and choking and kissing. He asked to kiss my feet at one point, with me sitting on the bed and my feet on the floor. On his knees, he bent over and kissed my feet tenderly and lovingly, with his beautiful ass high up in the air, available for spanking and pinching and grabbing. Seriously? It was a tender fucking moment.

He admitted he's got a bit of a foot fetish, and we agreed that I'll train him to give a pedicure.

We didn't fuck because he was too thick to fit into my condoms. That was the worst, driving home that night without having any dick because he was TOO BIG. And this is the second time that's ever happened to me. So from now on, I'm carrying Magnums as well as my regular brand. Because that sucked. Bad.

Scratching the Itch

2006-12-08T17:14:00.000-05:00

The Captain is a 6'4" tattooed and pierced punk/goth scenester in his early 30s. And he might just be a bigger whore than me. Our first get together, I went over his place and we were fucking within an hour (if up to me it would've been sooner, but he felt like talking, I guess). We were up until four in the morning, and I slept there for two hours before heading off to work.

I can barely remember all of it in order. It was just sucking, licking, biting, smacking, fucking fucking fucking. He was surprisingly impressed that I have no gag reflex and slapped my face while I gave him deep-throat. He knew I like breath play, so he'd pinch my nose shut and hold my head tight against him. So fucking hot. He's a moaner when getting head, which is the best; I hate guys who lie there and take is silently.

I do very, very distinctly remember the last fuck. He said, "I want you on your knees," and I got on the bed on all fours. He stood next to the bed and fucked me from behind hard. So damn hard the friction made me dry, and he kept on going. He reached forward and grabbed the front of my throat, choking me and pulling my head and torso backwards. With his other hand, he'd slap my face over and over while fucking like a monster.

He'd treated my mouth so rough that the next day my throat was seriously sore and I ended up losing my voice.

Should've Known Better

2006-11-02T11:42:00.001-05:00

So. The Boyfriend dumped me. Or, rather, was a complete shit for three weeks thus forcing me to break it off with him. You know, the whole mixed-messages, passive-aggressive deal where the guy says "I just want to be friends" but also "I never said you should try to 'get over' me and 'move on'" and "You're the one making this into a break-up" but also "I like where my life is right now, alone." Men do that when they don't want to be the Bad Guy by dumping you, and they don't realize that stringing the girl along makes them into a Total And Complete Asshole Whom My Friends And I Will Mock And Ridicule For The Next Two Months.

I should've known. After the husband moved out, I only wanted to casually date and have sex with multiple partenrs, and was happily doing just that when I met the Boyfriend. But after many, many, many relationships, he really had sweeping a girl off her feet down to a science, and that's what he did with me... that is, until his infatuation wore off - which was around the same time I realized his impotence was chronic and not just because he's "really stressed out right now."

I need a hard penis so bad right now, you have no idea.

Well, back to the dating game. STAY in the dating game, this time.

Can't Get a Good Whore Down

2006-08-01T09:58:00.000-04:00

A couple weeks ago, I fell at the beach and severely sprained my left foot. The ankle was okay, thank God, but the foot was black and green with one broken toe and possibly broken metatarsels (my mother insists but I'm not convinced; yet there is still a huge, hard bump on the top of the foot like something broke and fused all funky). We'll never know for sure because I don't have insurance and didn't go to the hospital; unless the bone is poking out of my skin, I'd rather spend the money on designer handbags.

Point being! The morning after mashing up my foot I was still unable to walk and yet found the strength to lay on my back with my knees next to my ears and take a good ass fucking from The Boyfriend (nee The Artist).

Neither sprain nor pain will keep me from a some anal penetration.

Under the Weather

2006-06-22T10:54:00.000-04:00

I've been so sick the past week with an allergy-induced head cold, and in an all-around shitty mood. Yesterday, starting to feel a little better, I realized my bad temper probably had more to do with not getting laid in five days and less with being sick. So, The Artist treated me to a great afternoon romp when I came home early from work.

He started off with kisses on my lips, face and neck, his hands cradling my face, and then got me off with his fingers and tongue. And then again. And then almost a third time, but it was one of those really deep inner cunt orgasms that just go on and on and never quite peak. He could tell I was primed, and started rolling me back and forth - belly and back - whacking my ass and smacking my tits around. With me on my back, he fucked my tits. I licked the cock head every time it emerged, and loved feeling his balls pressed hard against my belly. He slid down and fucked my cunt, kissing my mouth, putting his arms around me, and made me come again. I blew him, unable to take him all the way in because my throat is still sore as all hell, and then watched him jerk off until he came on my face.

I love the look on his face when he calls me his "little whore." A look like he knows he owns me. I'm a feminist, daughter of a feminist, and a dues-paying member of the National Organization for Women, but I love a man who knows he's a man. A man who relishes his masculinity in a pure way, without any misogyny. He respects his woman and can be kind and generous, but knows how to make a woman feel possessed and feel like his woman. Make any sense?

Things are starting to look hopeful on the Girlfriend Search. Chatting up a cute, chubby thing on a BDSM dating site. We have a lot in common, including our relationship situations (i.e. her partner is okay with her having an outside female sex buddy). Keeping fingers crossed.

Take A Hint

2006-06-09T11:50:00.000-04:00

Mr. Near Miss - He of the Emotional Maladjustment - actually contacted me again. After two months of no contact, he called in late May. After two or three minutes of a rambling, self-deprecating spiel about how he's horrible and I have every right to hate him and probably don't want to see him and he has no right to ask... he asked to come see me. When I said "no" he acted shocked - kinda throwing a rock through the sincerity of his "I'm so lowly and know you don't want to see me" line. He asked why and I told him it was because I was involved with someone and had agreed to not fuck other men. And that even if I was still solo I wouldn't want to see him - because how did I know he wouldn't just disappear again tomorrow.

That phone conversation ended with him wishing me luck and me telling him to take care. Two days later, on a Friday evening, he called again and left an insanely long voicemail about wanting to talk to me and how he needed to make amends for his behavior and how he envies me, blah blah blah. A couple days later he called again with another rambling message. And again a couple days after that. And again. The messages got more and more desparate, with the final message saying we were right for eachother and he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't think we'd both be better off together and geez it'd only been two months that he'd disappeared. It had been two months since our last phone conversation. I don't wait for anything for two months. I yell at my fucking mother if she doesn't follow through on something within a week.

It became obvious that he wasn't going to go away unless he had some kind of resolution, so the next time he called I answered the phone. He approached the situation like we were just a couple having an argument, like we were involved, like he hadn't disappeared for nine weeks. It got to the point where I had to flat out tell him that I didn't care about him anymore, that he'd missed the motherfucking boat, that I was going to get off the phone with him and never call him again. He said he was sorry that he bailed and I said I wasn't because I'd met my match. I finally had to hang up on him because he just. wasn't. getting it.

I know what was bothering him was the remorse and regret. That feeling where you wish you could go back in time and change things, but you can't. You fucked up and now you have to deal. I sympathize, but am at a point in life where I can't spend any more time or energy on people who are unreliable and emotionally unstable.

In other news, still looking for a girlfriend. Oh my god, chicks are hard to pick up on.

Highlights of the Last Month

2006-05-30T10:15:00.000-04:00

The Artist had me collared, blind-folded, wrists cuffed behind my back, and bent over a table in his studio while he beat my ass with a crop. Strangely, the first time I've allowed myself to be blindfolded or have my hands restrained; I've just never trusted someone enough before. Terrifying and lovely. When he was done beating me and tossing me around, he propped me up on a chair and ate me out.

Many, many wonderful blowjobs with his fingers in my hair, his hands pushing my head down further and faster, his stomach muscles clenching against my cheek, his sexy voice calling me his filthy whore and telling me to choke on his dick. Telling me to lick his asshole while jerking him off, his balls flopping against my eyes and nose. God, I love that sound in his voice when I take him down my throat, and his glee when he told me to take him all in and then try to lick his balls and I was able to do it.

Telling him over drinks at a bar that getting fucked in the ass is more intimate than the cunt. That any idiot can fuck me in the cunt and do me no harm, but I need to trust and like a man to let him take my ass and know that he'll do it right. That night he fucked my ass for the first time, making me come and telling me (to my absolute delight) that he went easy on me and will "really go at it" next time.

The Artist asking me not to date other men and me agreeing. He's amused with how sexual I am, though, and wants me to have girlfriends. Not for a three-way, not for us, just for me. Bless his heart.

Eau de Man-Stink

2006-04-26T11:37:00.000-04:00

In a lot of ways, The Artist is my perfect sexual match: passionate, aggressive, tender, forceful, affectionate. We both have that duality in our sexual nature and successfully feed off eachother, alternating between the kind and the cruel. He loves eating pussy even more than I love sucking cock (which is a lot). We've stood kissing and stroking each other for minutes on end. I've shown up at his place, ripped our clothes off, kissing him so hard our teeth clanged together, and got off all over his face.

My affection for him is totally influenced by the fact that he gave me the biggest, hardest orgasm I've had in years. I'm talkin' uncontrollable screaming, limbs thrashing, muscles clenching so hard I pulled my hamstrings and got a charley horse. God bless that man's mouth.

Mostly it's really rough sex. Me sucking him off while sqeezing his balls and biting his dick; him forcing his cock down my throat and then pinching my nose closed when I start to gag. Riding him with his hands tight around my neck until I see stars. On my back, pounding me so hard he leaves bruises on the inside of my thighs.

For some weird fucking reason, I really like the sweaty, stinking smell of him after sex, and I've actually put my face in his chest hair and armpits to sniff him in. He suggested gagging me with a dirty, sweaty t-shirt of his, and the idea made me dripping wet.

A Glorious Tool

2006-04-10T07:41:00.000-04:00

The Vet was bottom and I was top, so the first thing I had him do was strip naked and stand before me so I could inspect and explore his body. I do this for two reasons: because I LOVE the male body and love touching, licking, biting, pinching, and stroking every bit of a man, and to know my partner's body (e.g. color and temperature of hands, feet, limbs, etc) so I can notice any potentially negative changes during strenuous bondage or beatings. The first thing I notice about The Vet is that he has the fattest, most beautiful cock I've ever seen - and it was only half hard. A truly glorious tool. Let me tell you, it was a serious exercise of self-control to explore the rest of his body for over ten minutes before sitting down in front of his crotch.

It was the most fun I've had with a cock in my mouth. He smelled good and tasted good, and his skin was so soft. He filled my mouth so nicely and stretched my lips wide. I spent a lot of time just licking him and rubbing my lips, nose and chin over him. Sucking on him so hard that it pulled his whole body forward. He likes teeth and being bitten during oral, so I got to teasingly scrape my teeth along him and bite down on his shaft, feeling how spongey he was inside. I probably had him in my mouth for over half an hour. He was actually very sweet. Sitting on the futon with my head in his lap, he leaned forward and put his arms around me, his face in my hair, smelling me and moaning.

Later on he returned the favor with his mouth on my cunt. He's the first man to take seriously my warning that my clit is very sensitive and to be careful with it; he started off gently, carefully, and built up the pressure. Then I sat on his face, facing his cock, while he gave me the best rimming ever. I couldn't help but grind down on his mouth. So good I almost came. Still on top, I slide my puss down on him. God, it hurt, stretching me, and it took a couple seconds to adjust. He said, "it's so hot, it's like a furnace."

Afterwards, we laid around for a while and talked religion. Nothing like post-coital intellectual discourse.

Delicate Egos

2006-04-04T09:47:00.000-04:00

Men can be overly sensitive when it comes to sex and anything remotely involving their performance. When it comes to their cocks, they are usually either too confident or too fragile. A new lover says "I like it like this," and I do it like that. Yay, a new technique has been added to my repertoire! He's not criticizing my skills as a lover, just sharing what he knows about his body and knows what will get him off.

I tell this guy "please harder" and he wilts. He says I can't make demands of a man like that (uhh... yeah, I can). He's okay taking suggestions when his face is in my pussy, but not when his cock is in play? Fucking annoying. Other men thank me for being so expressive and saying what I want, rather than lying there silently and leaving them guessing. This one loses it at the slightest implication he might not be the world's most perfect fuck. I told him, "Perhaps you'd prefer I just lie there and wait for you to finish so I can roll over and go to sleep?"

Thanks to Mom

2006-04-03T05:03:00.000-04:00

Long distance on the phone, Mom asks, "How's it going with that new guy you're seeing?" I pause, trying to remember which one I've told her about. She's not stupid and she has to have figured out there are a few. So she helps me out, "You know, the one who's..."

My mom is awesome. She was always very open about sex and raised me to be safe and aware, not ashamed. In the 1980s, I saw her gay friends sick with AIDS and she was honest with me about the disease (and when she gave birth in the mid-80s, a hospital director laughed at her for insisting on plasma in case of a medical emergency, instead of relying on the blood banks). She's bi, and for a time growing up I had two mommies.

My childhood friends' parents owe my mom a lot. Kids ask each other about sex, not their parents, and thanks to my mom I had the right answers. At 14, I bought condoms for one friend and showed him how to put them on (even though I was still a virgin at the time and he wasn't). I explained about blow jobs and hand jobs and rimming and how you can't tell just by looking at someone if they have an STD. In high school, a lesbian acquitance tried sex with a man and walked away from it stunned and upset; instead of calling any of her close friends, she called me because she knew I wouldn't judge or get angry but listen and take care of her.

Don't think I'm a whore because my mom was so open about sex. Up until four months ago, I'd had sex with only three men in three long-term relationships (granted, two of those relationship were concurrent). I was sexually willing and adventurous, but not promiscuous. Right now, I don't want a steady relationship but do want very frequent sex and my solution is multiple partners. Mom says, "whatever makes you happy, sweetie." It's because of my mom's healthy and open attitude about sex that I've been able to maintain a positive opinion of men (and having sex with them) despite many abuses.

Recently, mom and I were talking about kink and she said, "You know what's kinky? Jeffrey Dahlmer used to drill holes in guy's heads and pour hot water into it. That's some sadism for ya."

Frustrated

2006-04-01T15:40:00.000-05:00

The Hippie finally came through as a top. He had me tied up and sobbing last night, and there are still welts on my ass, red marks across my throat, and bruises in the shape of bite-marks on my tits. Some deep-dicking would've ended it perfectly, but that didn't happen. Just my luck: in order to get what I've been missing, I have to miss what I've been getting. What's up with that?

I'm getting a little scared of myself because I'm never completely sated, and I'm not sure exactly what it is that I need. I know that more and more often I'm wanting something soft and sweet and tender and that I have no interest in that from a man, so I want a girlfriend and some serious queening time. Also, I want a really aggressive man. No top or bottom, no roles, just me and him beating the shit out of each other until we're sweaty, drooling, and panting like dogs, then he pins me down, shoves his fist in my mouth, and fucks me bow-legged. Okay people, make it happen. Chop chop.

Now I've Seen Everything

2006-03-31T08:20:00.000-05:00

A friend sits me down at his computer and says he's got something to show me. A porn clip that he insists will blow my mind. I laugh and say, "Honey, I've seen Hungarian midget porn. Nothing can shock me anymore." He smirks and tells me to watch.

On the screen is just the neck and head of a very beautiful woman. She's lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling. She turns to the camera and says, in a heavy French accent, "Here is something special, just for you." She turns back to the ceiling and her eyes look behind her. After several minutes, a man comes up from behind, rapidly stroking his cock, and the woman raises a small, glass funnel to her nose and inserts it in her nostril. The man cums in the funnel, and the woman begins snorting the semen through it.

Let me repeat that last part: this gorgeous Frenchwoman was snorting jism.

She's French so of course she wasn't making disgusting snorty noises, but deep, sexy inhales and you could see her throat moving as the cum dripped down and she swallowed. She was moaning and pursing her lips and her eyes were rolling back in her head. She wasn't doing this for cash or shits and giggles: this was her thing. She was getting off on it. It truly was something special, just for me. After several minutes of snorting and swallowing, she pulled the funnel out of her nose and licked it clean.

And I'm just sitting there watching with my mouth hanging WIDE OPEN and my friend standing behind me, completely satisfied that he's shocked the jaded whore.

I firmly believe that for anything you can think up there's at least one person in the world who has it as a fetish. I play it as a game with people, thinking up the weirdest, most digusting things we can and debating whether or not there exists a person with that kink. Never, ever, ever in my wildest imaginings would I ever, ever, ever have come up with this, but now I've seen proof that there exists at least one cum snorter in the world.

Sexual Savior

2006-03-30T01:04:00.000-05:00

The Executive is in his mid-30s, tall, trim, stunning blue eyes. I can usually find something sexy about everyone (my lovers have been every type you can imagine) but I'm not overtly attracted to him. Probably because I know there will be no sex. I can suck his cock and lick his asshole, fuck him with a strap-on, but nothing else. He needs to be used like a whore. It's been five years since he's played and it's becoming a fixation for him.

I don't particularly care about him, but I owe him. He's the one who discovered and then nurtured the sadistic Domme hiding inside me. He is a switch, and when we met he was the top and I was the bottom. Somehow he saw in me the potential to switch and helped me become his "Mistress." (He's the only one I allow to use that moniker - because he wants to and I owe him - the others I tell to just use my first name). I teased him that it's not often a submissive can create and mould their Dominant.

I've mentioned twice that I "owe" him. Here's why. I used that dominance to regain my sexuality. During my marriage, sex had become emotionally dangerous. Now, to be on top, to have control and be worshipped, enabled me to fuck without fear. If not for that, who knows if I'd have recovered so fast and returned to my normal self: frank, forthright, and a total goddamn slut.

The Executive has a serious fetish for heels. Women wearing them, wearing them himself, looking at them, touching them, licking them, having the pointy heel shoved up his ass. He's just happy to live in a world where heels exist. It's absolutely amazing. So, of course, I dressed him up in stockings and heels. It's not my thing, but I have to admit he has lovely legs and he walks well in five inch pumps. He wore those heels and a huge butt plug for six straight hours.

I kept him tied up, in one way or another, the whole time. He loves it and I'm only too happy to practice my rope bondage skills. All bound up on the floor, I tie up his cock and balls with rope, put clamps on his nipples and along the length of his dick, gag him, and take a nap. Later on, I'm mocking him and pouring hot wax on his stomach, thighs, and balls when he says "OUCH!" No respect, no begging, no fear, no "please don't," but "OUCH" all uppity-like. So I yank the plug out of his ass, push two ice cubes up there, seal his asshole shut with the wax, and leave him like that. Fucker.

After cleaning him up, I have him stand, bend over, and hold his ass cheeks apart. He has the sweetest, loveliest, pinkest asshole I've ever seen, and I attack it with my mouth and tongue. He's never had that done to him before, and he can't believe it. His knees buckle and he starts groaning from deep in his chest, grinding his ass back into my face. An incredible turn on! I jerk him off while licking his ass, and he goes out of his mind. He wants to get fucked in the ass (like most men do, whether they admit it or not) so I put my biggest dildo on the strap-on and sit down, letting him bounce on it. He takes it all, riding it like crazy, and I'm impressed. Thank god his back was to me so he couldn't see me wide-eyed with amazement. Still, I grab his neck and tell him that he's a disgusting whore, which of course spurns him on. That's what he wants: to be whore. That's what everyone wants.

For Future Reference

2006-03-29T10:19:00.000-05:00

Note to Self: No matter how bad you want that cock in your mouth, don't agree to be videotaped giving head. Dumbass.

My Multi-Orgasmic Ass

2006-03-28T23:53:00.000-05:00

The Hippie called when he got home from work. He'd had a horrible day and was hoping for some oral. I agreed to come over and laughed after getting off the phone with him. He can never have just a blowjob. He gets too excited and then wants to fuck. Sure enough, less than ten minutes of head and he was dragging me to the bed, to fuck my ass. Me on my stomach, legs straight out, and him on top with his knees on either side of my ass, leaning over, his face next to mine. He's the best ass fucker I've ever known, and I came twice.

(Dear God: thank you that I can orgasm from anal. It makes up for all the other bullshit. Love, Me)

Trouble Brewing

2006-03-26T01:03:00.000-05:00

This weekend, The Hippie said, "I think I'm falling in love with you."

The Hippie has the annoying habit of calling me when he's had too much to drink, and when he's had too much to drink he gets cryptic. To the point where I sometimes have no idea what he's saying. After one too many drunk, cryptic phone calls in a row, I stopped seeing him for awhile. A couple weeks ago, stressed out and horny and in need of some comfort, I went to see him again.

The drunken calls have stopped, and we've been getting along really well. Plus, the sex just keeps getting better. He woke me up in the middle of the night yesterday by licking my pussy, got me off twice (and I never come from oral), thanked me, and I went back to sleep. (Can't beat that).

Later on he says, "I think I'm falling in love with you." I said, "Then maybe I shouldn't see you anymore." I have a soft spot for him but could never love him. Months ago he said something so fucked, so unnecessary, so unforgivable. He'd had too much to drink (again) and said it out of stupidity. Not malice but sheer fucking stupidity. He admitted to thinking it over before saying it and so I could never love him. If he thought about it beforehand it means he's so ignorant (about me, at least) that he'd be recklessly insensitive. I've done that before and heard plenty of "that shouldn't have hurt your feelings" and "a normal person wouldn't have been offended by that." Never again. (so it was probably a bad idea to fuck him twice after he professed love, huh?)

I am a Porche

2006-03-21T00:54:00.000-05:00

The Pimp Daddy is in his 40s and in the last twenty years has had the craziest kinky experiences. Things I can only dream of doing. That's why he's The Pimp Daddy, my sex god. He laughs when I say I worship him, but I really do.

The first time we meet, he takes me out to dinner and we end up in his car making out. The chemistry is intense: he's so very Dominant and makes me feel terrifyingly submissive. Most times submitting, I'm still concerned with getting myself off, but with him my focus is solely his enjoyment. Kissing, he grabs my hair in a tight fist and yanks my head back; I groan and melt and when he says "Oh, yes" I know I'd do anything he wants. He gets me off with his hand: his fingers hooked painfully inside me, his palm cupping my cunt like he owns it. Afterwards, he puts my head on his chest and kisses my forehead, almost paternal. He's the perfect blend of torture and tenderness, inflicting pain and showing appreciation. He's paranoid and won't let me get him off there in the parking lot, and I go home feeling guilty.

The next time we get together, he comes over my house. His schedule is so busy and he only has a few hours. He's had a very stressful week and seriously needs some relief. He uses a flogger on me and a wartenberg wheel, but I spend most of the time with him in my mouth. He deserves it. He's lying on his back and I'm curled up at his right hip, the left side of my face resting on his stomach, my right hand cupping him and holding him to my mouth. I'd bragged about my oral skills and after a while he says, "You weren't kidding."

I tell him how The Husband didn't take full advantage of me, a woman willing to try almost any kink and down for sex whenever, and he says "That's like owning a Porche and never driving it over 55 miles an hour." I laugh my ass off, being compared to a sports car, and later when I tell my best friend she says, "Yeah that's a compliment. Do you know how much a Porche costs?"

A Near Miss

2006-03-11T07:03:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I almost fell for this guy. In his early 40s, wide palms, thick fingers, dark complexion, scruffy, short curly brown hair with natural streaks of red. It was one of those weird connections where holding each other we just fit. Lying together, our bodies just interlocked and it fit perfectly. He was such a good kisser, and his mouth tasted so good. I was in trouble.

He was a good fuck, somehow knowing to do everything exactly as I like it. His hands were vicious, and when he'd spank my ass it'd hurt so much more than any paddle. He didn't need any toys, just those hands. He was rough: pining me down with hands on my arms or a fistful of hair, or cupping the top of my skull and pulling me toward him over and over. Once, from behind, he thrust in while pulling back on my hair and yanked my neck out. I could barely move my head for a couple days afterward.

Even better, our personalities meshed well. We'd had a lot of the same experiences and tragedies, and could really empathize with each other. I even let him meet my fucking mother.

One day he stopped calling. For two weeks. I left three messages, nothing psycho, just "haven't heard from you, hoping you're okay, let me know if something's wrong or if you want to get together." The not knowing was heart-wrenching. It would've been easier if he'd called and said, "I don't wanna fuck you anymore." He eventually called, and I called him back, and he said that he'd emotionally shut down, couldn't deal with intimacy, had been thinking of me every day, blah blah blah. Could he come over and see me? I was horny, so yeah. When he arrived, he looked different to me. He'd lost that rosy glow a person takes on when you have a lot of affection for them. How you see them in a better light because you like them. Instead he looked pallid and desperate. We fucked several times that night and he took me to breakfast the next morning before going home.

He told me that the whole time he wasn't talking to me he was wishing I'd just show up at his house. He said he'd leave his front door unlocked at night, in case I came over so I could just walk right in. How fucking ridiculous is that? The guy isn't talking to me but wants me to somehow know to go to his house, walk in, and do what? Emotionally rescue him? A couple days after our last meeting, I called and told him it was nice being together one last time (He goes, "Don't think of it as the last time." I say, "Uh huh.") and to give me a call when he figures out his shit. Haven't heard from him since (never will).

A New Mommy

2006-03-02T17:41:00.000-05:00

The thing that gets me about submissive men is how much they want to be coddled. Full subs, not switches. As soon as I assert a dominant demeanor (apparently, the tone of voice and a "dissecting" look in the eyes), before even any restraints or toys or pain, they're clutching at me, their face buried in my tits, practically crying. They want to be held, comforted, and told that someone will take care of them. A lot of men are looking for a new mommy; at least submissives are obvious about it.

Masochistic Marine

2006-02-21T16:58:00.000-05:00

GeekSlut says all marines are bottoms, and this marine was the biggest masochist and submissive I've ever met. If it was painful and degrading, he was into it; the more painful and more degrading, the better for him. He desired some things I wouldn't do to him as a top, but I admired it about him because he could go farther than I'd be able to (as a bottom).

He got down on his knees and asked if he could submit to me. In response, I slapped him hard across the face. One of the loveliest things I've ever seen is how he crumpled at that, his head bowing down and his shoulders slumping, his whole demeanor immediately changing. I pulled his head against my chest and stroked his hair reassuringly, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, sighing. First things first, he needed to be punished for a behavioral infraction, something I'd asked him not to do and he ignored the request; I warned him about the punishment on the phone, before he'd come over. Honestly, I'd found a reason to punish him: being such a deep masochist, I knew he enjoy starting off with a punishment and that it'd help him get into a submissive headspace. Bent over my bed, a dildo shoved down his throat and his face pressed into the mattress, he took thirty-five hard whacks from my carriage whip, leaving long, bright red welts across his ass, thighs, and back (his spine and kidneys carefully avoided). When it was over, I told him that he was forgiven and everything was okay now, and he fell to the floor, hugging my ankles, kissing my feet and thanking me.

He had a thing for PVC, so I dressed him up in an outfit he'd brought and his knee-high, five inch heeled boots. With a ball gag in his mouth and his arms tied behind his back, he stood in the living room while I cooked dinner. For a man (or really anyone) not used to wearing heels, standing in them for any amount of time can become painful. After half an hour, I turned around to see him shifting from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache. Bad idea. I walked over to him and asked what the point was of making him stand in the heels, and he said (around the gag) that it was the pain. I asked him if he didn't think it was disobedient to try and ease the pain by shifting and lifting his feet, and he agreed. I reminded him to always tell me about his discomfort, both so I can enjoy it and to decide if he needs permission to ease it. As punishment he had to stand, without moving his feet, for another half hour. After an hour in the heels, I let him take them off and he said "I don't know how women can wear heels all day." Without pointing out that women don't usually wear five inch heels all day, I said, "because we're not sissy bitches like you."

The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur (that's what I get for writing this up months later). We ate dinner and snuggled on the futon, watching TV. Just like a lot of bottoms, he wanted to be coddled and clutched at me, whimpering and thrusting his hips. I told him to stop humping my leg like a fucking bitch in heat. Later on, I put a CBT ball stretcher on him and covered him with clamps. Sucked on his cock until he got all worked up, then backed off and let him calm down, working him up again, backing off, over and over. He wore the ball stretcher for more than half an hour and when I finally took it off, and the blood rushed out, his knees buckled and he bent over in pain.

I do remember fucking him in the ass with a strap-on. Mine is a harness with a pouch at the front; different sized flared-end dildos can be placed in an O-ring, and there's a pocket on the inside for a bullet vibe to get me off (plus, the vibe makes the dildo jiggle too). Being such a total bottom, of course he wanted to take it on his back, with his legs high up in the air, so he could watch. He took a small dildo (only four and a half inches) but complained about it. I teased him, saying "if I can take a pounding in my ass from a thick eight inch cock, you can take this little thing without whining like a bitch." I put my hands on his ankles and pushed his legs back further, going harder and harder. I will always remember the look on his face, amazement and adoration, and how fucking loud he moaned (my neighbors had to have heard).

I let him sleep in my bed that night and he snored like a beast.

Electric Sex

2006-02-18T23:13:00.000-05:00

The Hippie was my first lover after The Husband moved out. He is the one who did the great service of fucking my ass four times in one night (sweet, sweet man!), the first time I'd had sex since my marriage ended and the first time I'd gotten anal in years. He's supposedly a top, but mainly wants to dictate positions and acts, and - believe it or not - there's more to topping than that. He's wonderfully kinky though, and introduced me to cupping, dilator sounds, and electrosex. He's really the only one I spend time with doing other things, like watching movies, going out to dinner, surfing for porn on the web, etc.

I hated the electricity the first time, but loved it the second and am a big fan now. He has two insertables, one butt plug and a dildo for my puss, that can be wired up to a TENS unit (but his is larger with various manual settings, dials and knobs and what-all; hell, there were things shoved in my ass and cunt, I didn't pay that much attention to it). He could change the voltage, speed, and pulse; sometimes it was waves, moving up and down along the toys, sometimes very prickly, like the things inside were covered in spikes, and once he had the charge move in a loop from the toy in my pussy to the one in my ass. My muscles inside started to contract, a rapid sqeeze and release, and it honestly felt like I was being fucked hard. The contractions got so intense, the muscles sqeezing so hard, that I actually shot the one out of my cunt. Needless to say, I was literally clawing up the wall behind me.

Greatest. Sex game. Ever.

Fetishes

2006-02-15T19:38:00.000-05:00

Fetishism is a large part of BDSM. A fetish being "something, such as a material object or a nonsexual part of the body, that arouses sexual desire and may become necessary for sexual gratification." You usually hear the word "fetish" used to describe a sexual desire or preference, but really it's something that's an obsession or fixation - even something the person needs in order to get off. A fetish can be anything, but common ones are leather, PVC, denim, heels, and gags. A leather fetishist told me it was the smell of it that got him, and a PVC fetishist focused on the look and feel of the material clinging to the skin.

The only thing I have that comes close to a fetish is for rope. Soft, white, bondage rope. I like the feel of it and the look of it on myself and others. Maybe it's the whole damsel in distress thing, tied up and left on the railroad tracks to be rescued by the hero in the nick of time. Tying someone up with rope, especially in the Japanese style, takes time. Time when you can be close to that person, touching them and manipulating their body. Way more intimate than simply snapping on some leather cuffs.

As a top, I accept the bottom's fetish(es). Whatever they like, turns them on, humiliates them, and/or puts them in that submissive headspace. If he's got a fetish for wearing five inch stilettos and told he's a girly whore, that's what we do. If he needs to be restrained and feel immobile, that's what we do. Whatever they like, within limits, I'm willing to try.

Playing Both Sides

2006-02-12T17:05:00.000-05:00

In BDSM terms, I am a switch. Almost a "true switch," in fact, meaning that I take equal enjoyment from both Dominating and submitting. Deep down though, I prefer being submissive and am more turned on by the loss of control than the command of it. If I had to choose only one role for the rest of my life, it would definitely be submissiveness. In either role, the emotional connection and mental aspect of the power exchange is what's most important to me.

For a long time, my main interest in submitting was mainly behaviorial and mental D/s and your basic rough sex. With time and opportunity, I've developed a greater enjoyment of bondage and masochism. In fact, I haven't yet found a Dom who would/could hurt me as much as I'd like. I need to find a Dominant Sadist who'll hurt me to the point (and beyond) of tears. I really want to explore my pain limits, and would even be willing to try play peircing, cutting, and branding (someday, in a committed, monogamous relationship; it's not smart to let blood fly around in a casual encounter).

Understanding my subself is what makes me a good Dominant (which is more about attitude and demeanor than the toys): I have been in that submissive position, gone through those same tortures, and so can empathize with and better appreciate what my submissive partner is experiencing.

As a Dominant (or Domme), I'm a sadist. Almost more than anything else, I enjoy inflicting pain on a masochist sub, watching them endure and suffer in their eagerness to please and knowing that it is cathartic for them. Whimpers, grunts, and hisses from the pain are aphrodisiacs to me. Is really is a high to have so much control over a person, to have them trust me so much they'd allow me to restrain them and hurt him, that they'd literally put their body in my hands. How could I not care about and appreciate someone (especially a man) brave enough to be powerless to me? How could I not take care of them? So mixed in with the infliction of pain are reassuring words, tender touches and kisses. I've been told that I'm "merciless but not cruel," and it's obvious that I care. It shouldn't be any other way.

A Very Kinky Girl

2006-02-03T23:55:00.000-05:00

The first time I had sex after The Husband moved out, I took it in the ass four times in five hours, mostly without any lube. I was aching to hurt; I was aching for even the tiniest bit of kink.

See, I am Kinky. I'm not talking about "spicing things up" with the occassional silk scarf blindfold or a little spanking; I'm talking about whips, flogs, clamps, clothespins, rope, leather, play peircing, electrosex, strap-ons, etc. I'm talking about being used like a whore, and hurt hurt hurt until I'm a whimpering, sobbing, puddle-of-girl curled on the floor. Kink is my sexuality, like how some people are Queer and others are Straight - I am Kinky. I will try almost anything at least twice, just to make sure if I like it or not. For me, even "regular" sex contains biting, spitting, choking, scratching, hair pulling, and name calling; kink happens when the toys come out to play, and when one participant enacts the role of submissive and the other Dominant.

The Husband was very vanilla (i.e. not kinky, at all): not even anal sex. He knew I was kinky before we married (at first he teased me about it, and later on he ridiculed me for it). I gave up being kinky for him and had "normal" sex for a long time. I'd still enjoy sex, and still come, but something was missing. Eventually I became frigid, from the tumultuous nature of the relationship and probably partly from the neglect of my sexuality; this sexual dysfunction was horrifying to me: I was always highly sexual with a very active libido and it was a true loss of self to be cut off from that.

When The Husband moved out, I decided to make kink the focus of my sex life, using kink to regain my sexual self and rediscover the beauty of my cunt. It's worked pretty damn well. My libido is back, in full force, and lifelong friends have commented that I'm once again like I was before the marriage: always thinking about sex, regularly talking about sex, and ready to fuck at any time. When I wake up, I want to fuck; when I come home from work, I want to fuck; before I go to bed, I want to fuck; right now, I want to fuck. For me, sex is the antedote: for headaches, bodily pains, fatigue, depression, hunger, anxiety, or stress. That had been missing in my marriage, and when it ended I really made up for lost time.

Introduction

2006-02-01T23:08:00.000-05:00

I am female, late 20s, in the middle of a relatively amicable divorce, and living in a major New England city. I am college educated, politically liberal, kinky by nature and promiscuous by choice.

In this blog, I write about my sexual experiences since my husband moved out. I tried to be in love and I tried to be monogamous, and now I'm trying something different.

I use condoms every time and get tested (including full pelvic exam) at least every six months. I disclose this to my potential partners, and also that I see other people, and ask them about their status before any sexual contact.

That being said: my behavior is still risky and I do not promote others engage in the same behavior unless they are fully aware of the potential consequences. Condoms are not fail-safe and don't adquately protect against some things (like Herpes or HPV) anyway. People can lie about their status and/or when was the last time they were tested; the only way to really make sure is to insist on seeing the paperwork from the doctor showing the date of testing and the results - but who carries that around in their back pocket? I am an informed adult who makes a conscious choice, and so are my partners.

The names of my partners have been changed because they don't know I'm talking about them on the web. All persons mentioned are over eighteen years-old.

"Am I gay? Am I straight? And then I realized, I'm just slutty. Where's my parade?"
- Margaret Cho