Before I get started on the meat and potatoes of this post, I just want to tell you that your comments are like sticky buns…once you post them, they apparently get all over my fingers until I wash off the sweetness and let it drip onto the page. That’s my idea of an awesome analogy for the day. If you don’t see it right away, it’s still there, I'm just really lazy when it comes to reading comments and at posting replies.
Lately I sit down to write, and either my brain dries up or something shiny distracts the hell out of me. I think that I have things to talk about but I just don’t wanna (and you can’t make me).
I don't want to talk about this freakin' weather we're having.
I certainly don't want to talk about the freak incident with the demon cat yesterday.
I don’t want to talk about how awesome Chief is, I'll worship at his altar later.I’ve already erected a statue in his honor today, which is more than enough.
Nope, definitely not talking about the fact that he’s so fucking awesome.
So... ho-hum... tick-tock... pish posh. (I seriously need to find a hobby. Am I really this dull?)
I may regret this in the morning but…. NormalMe is dying to know.... Normally, NormalMe, I may or may not do this, open myself up to direct questioning like this, what the hell!
“why do you have a content warning on your blog, but you don't write about sex?"
I'm not a prudish person, not at all. I think maybe there is a small part of me that is still ashamed to put that all out there for the world to see? Eh, I don’t think so…I mean, I’ve never had a puritanical view on sex in my entire life! Maybe I’ve read and unsubscribed from way too many blogs because all the authors ever did was talk about sex? I mean, it gets to be too much. The most likely answer to this question is that no matter how open & comfortable I am with my own sexuality, it is still a very intimate thing. If we’re sitting in a cafe, annoying the other patrons by talking over our sexual adventures, well that’s one thing. You’re there, you’ve asked and you really want to be talking about this. I feel like posting about it here is sort of forcing myself on you in a very boisterous way. Maybe I’ll make you uncomfortable. I know I shouldn’t care because this is MY blog but when it comes down to it, I like having some tact. And even though I’d never want to admit it, maybe there is still a part of me that can hear my mother saying that “a nice girl never talks about sex”. Pshhht, whatever.
Let it be known, I'm in my mid-30's, and I've got a sex drive that should be criminal! That sexual peak you read about, it's no joke. Definitely at my sexual peak - yes - not coming down anytime soon... wondering how high this mountain can really be! Being at your sexual peak leaves you with sex on the brain all of the time. It’s so sad, and I’m so pathetic. Yesterday I think I hit an all time low. Remember when Pat O’Brien left that harassing message, the one about bleeping his lady friend in the bleep and bleeping each other’s bleeps, and doing it all atop the motherboard that makes up Mary Hart’s torso? Well, for some reason I caught it again last night, and I found it all strangely arousing. Yes, I did. It was Pat O’Brien, King of I’m So Creepy I Could be a Substitute Gym Teacher From 1974, and I was thinking I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for having slept with Kathy Griffin!
So yes, that is where I am in my life…in a sexual frenzy.
That being said, I think masturbation is healthy and practice it on a full-time basis. I’m not embarrassed by the fact that I masturbate and will admit to it freely rather than hide it. I own several toys, in all shapes colors. I love porn and watch it now and then. I think that views on porn should be openly discussed and shared in a relationship and also it can be fun.
I like dirty talk as long as it’s not lame and cheesy. I’m not afraid to use some of the more colorful words to describe genitalia. I like oral sex - both giving and receiving. I’m adventurous and dare I say a bit kinky?
I’ll have sex with the lights on OR off. I’ll have sex in places other than my bed.
I love people who are sexually open and honest, especially sharing dirty little secrets. I think that you can be in love with someone and still fuck. I think that being in love and actually “making love” is better but you know, sometimes... hot... hair-pulling... neck biting... nasty... naughty... hmmmm....Okay woah,
I have veered... let’s get this bus back on the road, shall we?
We've all dipped our toe in the pool of casual sex a time or two, right? It’s rewarding like a chocolate brownie sundae is rewarding, drawn out and perfectly luscious, but limited. It’s decadent and filling and sinful and fun while it’s all happening. Like two bottles of Merlot and a large pizza at 3 am, it’s a good idea at the time. The picture of fly by the seat of your pun-intended pants. I've been the woman who drinks cosmos rather than cocoa. But when the whirl is over, when the time has come and gone, and you’ve exhausted the moment and quite possibly him, you eventually feel sick. It never, ever fails. Too much of one thing and not nearly enough of another. We invariably feel empty.
It’s an oversimplification, but monogamous sex is like reaching Eden. It’s being able to bite the apple and get a redo if it doesn’t taste just so the first time. It’s exciting and it’s thrilling, because it’s safe while not necessarily always being so. It’s appreciation. It's familiarity. It’s alternately walking hand in hand and being led. Or yanked.*** It’s like a comforter you know will cover you from chin to toe, the one you don’t often throw off for another blanket. It’s always good, sometimes routine, but all about the possibilities, and right now I simply cannot get enough.
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