Sep 052012
 

When I recently visited my longtime friend, the topic turned of course to sex at one or two points. Clinical, theoretical, opinionated talks. One topic, after numerous drinks by the couple, turned to how much noise my friend makes in bed. Or, rather, doesn’t make.

My bold, outspoken, ballsy, loud-mouthed friend is the exact opposite in the bedroom. That’s not to say she’s “frigid” (I hate that word). She loves sex. Her sex drive is crazy high. She especially loves sucking cock and freely, openly admits this in most cases. It turns her on immensely. Unfortunately, this is the only real thing that her boyfriend knows for sure arouses her. When it comes to sex she literally tightens up. He will see glimpses of her arousal and pleasure bursting at the seams but the moment a sigh escapes her lips she unknowingly clams up.

The discussion about this was basically him openly, and lovingly, telling her what she does/doesn’t do and telling her why he’d like her to be more free. To wake the neighbors. Not just for him, but for her, as well. He reasons that because she’s not at all vocal, be it in voice or body language, to his ministrations, he’s never really sure what or if she is enjoying. After a while, my friend started to take it all the wrong way and assume that he and I were saying that there was something wrong with her and that she wasn’t good enough in bed. He insisted that the sex is phenomenal, he loves it, but he knows that she could enjoy it even more and therefore so could he. That getting her off gets him off. Seeing that he is indeed giving her great pleasure is the best thing for him. I would have to agree with him on that…I absolutely need that feedback, I thrive off of it. I know my husband does, too.

We know why she’s like this. She was married to the first and only guy she ever slept with for a long time. Her and her ex had been together for something like 15 years. Her ex wasn’t much into sex. He never, not even on their wedding day, told her he thought she was beautiful. Sex was always brief, perfunctory and very infrequent. Quiet was encourage. Experimentation was not. So the boyfriend of less than a year has a LOT of “damage” to undo. My friend just feels weird making noise. Or saying anything. And then the circle goes right back.

Another topic in this long conversation came around to how rough each of them likes their sex because somehow my friend and I got to talking about BDSM a little bit. She wanted to know what it all stood for, what the words meant. She liked the sound of both masochist and sadist. Rough sex was discussed between the two of them….a little spanking, a little throwing around, etc. They’re both in great shape and she’s got the most incredible pain tolerance. Yet he’s not quite comfortable with being rough enough to spank her. He’s afraid he’ll hurt her. She’s afraid of hurting him. Despite both of them sitting there telling the other “It won’t hurt that much, don’t worry about me”, they kept insisting the same thing. It was like a huge circle talk of frustration. I’d like to think that some good came out of it all though. I’m hoping it did, since last week she texted me for recommendations on ball gags and wrist restraints. Yay!

So what do you think?

Does making noise mean better sex, if it’s genuine and not re-enacting the scene from When Harry Met Sally? Are there better ways for people like my friend to convey what is working and what isn’t, when they’re not comfortable saying a peep?

Aug 192012
 

A few weeks ago I spent some time with a childhood friend that I hadn’t seen in years. She was the first person from the “real world” that I’ve known for years that I told about my blog and my sex toy reviewing. I didn’t give her the address to the site, though. But I was able to talk to her all about sex toys. It’s nice! When I went to visit though a few weeks ago she told me that her sister-in-law was selling sex toys and I was curious. As luck would have it, SIL popped by for a visit while I was also there. It turns out that she’s just doing it as a side business, simply setting up an online store using a distributor and thankfully not doing those awful parties. My friend told her SIL what I do; questions were asked and I felt awesome to be able to answer them and give advice.

Until….SIL’s boyfriend asked for my business card, or my site address, as they were very interested to read what I do  – my reviews, etc. They were impressed by what I make a month in affiliate sales and how I do it. Suddenly I had to clam up. No business card, nope, sorry. Oh, my site address? Um…*looks around* *changes subject*

No way was I giving out my site address to her SIL + BF….no way did I want them seeing my personal posts or my tits. I didn’t even want to give the site address to my friend – not that she would be squicked out seeing my naked tits much, but there are old posts that I don’t know if she’d really want to read. Who knows.

I guess my point is…I’m starting to second guess this site and where I’ve taken it. It’s half blog, half educational/review. Part is personal, part is professional. Only recently is it biting me in the ass, but it’s too fuckin late NOW isn’t it. I can’t suddenly start up a sex-toy-review-only blog. I don’t know if I want to copy my reviews to a second site, rather than moving them, as simply a place to send the people who I don’t want seeing me naked. But if I send anyone professional there, they will see piss poor rankings and numbers. So do I overhaul this site? Get rid of my risque photos? My erotic fiction and erotic non-fiction?

Name That Toy

One thing I did love was talking to my friend and her boyfriend about the sex toys and lube they have, and giving them advice. They started to describe one very expensive toy they’d seen during their last trip to a store (which was months ago) and I immediately pulled up a site on my tablet and showed them the Tiani 2, sure that that was it. Nope, not quite. Ok….We-Vibe? Nope. That’s not it either, but it looks just like it, except that what they saw they say was mostly white with color accents. There were three of them, each increasing in price, each doing something “more” than the previous.

WHAT IS THIS? Because we never did find it. Apparently it was so new when they visited the store, that the salesperson didn’t know anything about it, they’d only received it the day before. There just aren’t very many small, C-shaped dual sex toys like the Tiani and We-Vibe, so what could it be??

 

May 192012
 

Today was my birthday. Yet it was also an un-birthday. What I mean is that it really wasn’t celebrated in any traditional sense. And you know what?

It was pretty damn good.

I lounged around reading magazines, and felt no guilt. I played my Facebook games. I made myself a wonderful steak salad for lunch. I sweetly asked for, and promptly received, copious cups of coffee from husband. Husband (who cleans much better than I) cleaned up the kitchen and hey! We have a kitchen table again! Dinner was lovely; I roasted some purple carrots, made a simple and creamy pasta Alfredo with the most wonderful cheese from Whole Foods, and topped it all off with sauteed langostines. My birthday cake was this chocolate mousse ganache confection from Trader Joe’s. I received birthday hugs from Husband whenever I demanded them.

Could it have been better? Sure. But it was a lot better than last year. So the only family member I spoke to was my mother. So what. So a number of friends said nothing of my birthday. So what! Those that did hold a special place in my heart. So I had no presents to unwrap. So what! Instead, I received a check from my mom and one from the in-laws and today I spent them. They’ve not even been deposited, and I spent them. So I stayed home all day. So what! When you get down to it I’m really not all that social and I don’t know if I would have enjoyed going out with a big group of friends. I did it last year before I moved and left my job, with work friends, and I didn’t enjoy myself at all (but that speaks more about those friends than me). I might have enjoyed a dinner out, but at least in cooking for myself I was able to make it healthier and I was able to make it all taste exactly as I wanted it to.

I bought this quirky yet adorable bag:

Image courtesy of JumpFromPaper

I know. They’re weird and adorable and make you stare and make your brain kinda hurt and they’re totally not me. I don’t care. I like the idea of confusing others.

My other purchase might seem fairly boring to most. 10 days ago I saw this video; a video many of you might have seen. It made me cry. It gave me hope. It came to me on the wings of an unexplained beginning of some sort of inner peace. All of sudden, about 2 weeks or so ago, I started feeling…..good. Mentally and physically. Mentally strong. Physically neutral.

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
‘Til it was a battle cry
~Regina Spektor, “The Call”

That song makes me weep. I cry the ugly cry. But that beginning fully describes me lately. It was a feeling. Then I had cautious hope. And this is my battle cry. I’ve started doing this program, done by the man linked in the video above, called DDPYoga. I figured that if a disabled veteran who couldn’t walk without the aid of serious crutches, knee braces and a back brace could do this and transform…..well then, why not me? Honestly about 3 weeks ago I’d started to give up. The outlook was hazy. I’d just come out of a 3-week long back spasm brought on by absolutely nothing. Everyone says walking is the best exercise but what happens when walking is really bad for your bones? Specifically my pelvis and my spine. I couldn’t find anything that didn’t hurt like hell. But then I saw that video and started the program and joined the community site for it and everything changed.

I can’t actually be certain if my deep-seated happiness started before I saw Arthur’s video or the day after but it took me a few days to recognize the feeling. It is a happiness that is not because of another person; it is a happiness that is deep in me, bubbling up like a volcano that is waking up. I can’t explain where it came from. Have the natural supplements I’ve been taking finally kicked in? No clue. I’ve found inner peace and acceptance in regards to other things, too. I sent off an email to someone and while they didn’t really need to know that I’ve changed and have let them go, I needed to say it out loud to them. I needed to make it real. It reinforced my emotional/mental fortitude that I’m experiencing and made me realize I’m just fine without them.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the other birthday gift purchase. A Yoga Rug to go on top of my not-yoga-mat because I sweat like crazy doing this stuff; it’s unbelievable to me that I can get my heart rate up and that yoga isn’t some peaceful, easy pretzel thing made for thin, lithe healthy folks. This shit is hard but it’s going to be so worth it. And unlike anything else I’ve done, DDPYoga was created by someone with the same back injury as me so everything is done to benefit the back. The other purchase was a “bolster” which I didn’t know existed. I’ve been using a latex pillow with piss poor results (smooth fabric meant I slipped off it and landed myself flat on the floor in what I dubbed the “dead frog” pose) because I have a problem putting weight on my shins or knees (kneeling/Table positions) thanks to the fibro. I normally would have continued on making do with what I have around the house but the birthday check pushed me to get something nice. After all, this isn’t going to be a passing phase.

So I am starting out my 35th year with a happiness I’ve not felt for a very long time, love from those that matter, an answer to a problem I’ve been dealing with for many years, a healthier lifestyle, chocolate cake, realistic expectations, hope and the faint outlines of promising future life plans.

Mar 252012
 

In less than a week I’ll be at Momentum, back in my beloved bubble of My People. Of course, in exactly a week’s time from right now, the moment I’m writing this, the bubble will be slowly bursting and all of my lovely friends will be departing for home and quite likely I’ll be alone in my hotel room for awhile. Hopefully I’ll be able to do things different this time and be able to write better about sessions I attend. Last year I tried to take notes and live tweet but all of that left me missing out on key statements – let’s face it, I have the focus and attention span of a gnat. This year I’ll be getting over my high school / college era anxiety and will be parking my ass in the front rows for many sessions so that I can just take personal use audio recordings for later perusal. I’m hoping that my fear of public speaking (or performance, as was the case growing up of participating in piano recitals) will not cripple me for the morning on Saturday. The session Laura and I are presenting is nothing like anything else going on (we’re doing a geeky session on Blogging) which could work for us or against us. It fits in with Momentum but yet in a tiny way it doesn’t. The UK recently had a conference called ErotiCon and while at first it seemed to deal a lot with the erotic writing and such, there was still a lot of sessions that would have been very useful and at least one that sounded similar to the one we’ll be doing. After reading someone’s re-counting of a session they attended there I’ve realized that I’m technically not a sex blogger anymore – I fall into a better category called sex journalist. But can one be called a journalist if they’re only writing on their own blog?

Momentum is probably one of the few sexuality events that is attended by all sorts of people who are horny perverts in their own ways yet there is no “play” party or plans of sexy orgies. At least not for me. I just want to soak up the company of People Similar To Me while it’s available before returning to my currently-boring life. Perhaps inspiration will strike me when I’m down there, who knows. If it will happen any place, it will happen there. The sessions blow my mind. The abundance of influential people is awesome and scary.

Overall I’ve been very excited for this weekend for the last few months. Some things have happened in the last week or two – seemingly minor things to other people but things that nonetheless speak volumes to me – which have set in motion a terrific depression and a heartache of epic proportions. So if you are at MomentumCon and catch me in a moment where I think nobody is looking (or I lose my self-control for a moment and my mask slips) and you wonder why I look so miserable….just give me a hug. Or a cigarette. Or both. I’ve not smoked in months but damn I need one lately. I have no fucking idea yet what I’ll be wearing because my entire wardrobe has been the butt of some huge cosmic joke or karma for who knows what. No big deal to some people but (confession time here) I’m one of Those Women who somehow think that a killer outfit will make up for the fact that my personality is not always sparkling and vivacious, that my social skills are lacking and that I’m not conventionally beautiful. Will a really great outfit (or at least ass-kicking boots) be enough to shut off the little voices in my head? You know, the destructive ones. I don’t know. I guess I can try. If I could suddenly heal this heartache the weekend would look much brighter but I can only hope that I’ll find a way out of the grey cloud long enough to enjoy the friends I so rarely get to see. Hopefully I can get it through my head that they won’t love me more if my nails are properly manicured or if I were 80 pounds lighter and just relax.

Mar 082012
 

I used to believe wholeheartedly that online relationships – relationships of all varieties including platonic – were not only feasible but wonderful. I used to believe that one could get to know a person on a deeper level through online chats and emails; sometimes things are easier said when we’re staring at a computer screen and not fearing the judgement in the eyes of the other.

But it’s taken the irrevocable loss of someone I used to write a lot about here to make me realize that nothing is easy online except lying and faking it. In person there are “tells” – a lack of eye contact, the direction a person looks when they answer you, fidgeting, etc. Online? The right sort of confident person could have you believing they’re an alien given enough time. There are two inevitable circumstances that occur when we’re in the midst of a happy online relationship:

~We see/hear/read nuances and meanings as we want them to be rather than the reality

~We project meanings and truths and facts as we want them to be rather than the reality

It’s taken time, time away and a lot of anger and hurt for me to finally look back on old conversations I had with him and finally see the absolute unvarnished truths: I was creating a sort of alternate reality to suit what I wanted. And in many ways, so did he. So many times he would feign innocence and ignorance, claiming to not know how I felt led on and lied to. And the more I learn about him in the real world the more I lose the veil that was once clouding my vision. And no, in fact, he’s nothing like my father (a comparison I hold in high esteem as I thought, and still think, that the sun rose and set with my late father) and he’s often times little else other than bluster and pomp, smoke and mirrors. I will give him credit where it is due; he was great at selling an idea and himself, he was great at spinning realities into something a little more golden. Is it possible that a lot more truth existed than I’m giving credit for? Is it possible that he really did change too much in the last year and that it has nothing to do with me or what there was 3 years ago? I don’t know because even thinking that it’s possible feels like making excuses and glossy edges.

So now I’m skeptical, I’m jaded and I’m yes….still angry. I’m unable to connect with anyone online the way I once could. I now presume that half of what they all say is a version of the truth (at best) or a complete fabrication.

And I’m trying my best to hate him as often as possible because it’s easier to manage and swallow than the hurt, abandonment and stupidity I feel otherwise. I feel loss, but really was there anything even there to lose? I mourn that I have no best friend but really was he even worthy of the simple friend title, let alone “best”? I have completely cut ties with anything BDSM because for me it all winds up back to him and I can’t seem to have or want one without the other. And so I just…..exist. Stagnant. Unable to write, unable to trust. And the irony is that I looked forward to this day, where I lived close enough to him to have an in-person relationship and it ended up ruining everything. Or so it seems.

 

I was true as the sky is blue
I couldn’t soon say the same for you
So now I find denial in my eyes
I’m mesmerized by the picture that’s in my mind

Tell me when I’ll finally see your shallow heart
For what it is
Cause I don’t want to keep on believing in illusions

I’ve seen your act
And I know all the facts
I’m still in love with who I wish you were
It ain’t hard to see
Who you are underneath
I’m still in love with who I wish you were
And I wish you were here

~ Kate Voegele “Wish You Were Here”

Jan 022012
 

A new year. An old one gone. Regrets. New promises. Who the hell knows what’ll happen. At least I know the world won’t end; apparently this isn’t the first time the Mayan Calendar reached the end of its cycle – it’s the 13th. It’s just that there wasn’t Internet on the 12th ending to spread the word of impending doom and chaos and oh-noes-we’re-gonna-burn-up-in-a-fiery-sun-ball.

2011….I left the state I’d been in all my life. I left a job I really disliked. My hubs is now the bacon-bringer with me pulling in the occasional bagel. Some have said that me not having a proper job is bad for me, the lacking of a schedule/routine and all that. We moved into a house when we moved and we thought it would be grand. Except…we’re renting. Normally not a huge deal. Except the property is shared with others who rent commercial-type garage bays and they are not at all what was expected when we signed the lease. They’re here too much, too close, too loud, too irritating. The house is drafty, as old houses are. My long-held dreams of hardwood floors have been shattered as I realize that cat fur and wood floors requires more vacuuming more often than my back can tolerate! I’ve also discovered that I am a shitty housewife and would make an even shittier stay at home mom. Or a mom at all for that matter. But yet I’m starting to feel the mid-life crisis of “Will anybody give a shit about us when we’re gone?” because without children to care about your photos and your antiques and your crap, who else will? Sometimes I think of making photo albums in grand ways but then realize….it’ll be for me, sure, but then who? Nobody. I’m currently aimless and without purpose. No mark to leave on the world in 40 years.

2011 has shown me changes in my social life. Namely, I don’t have much of one and I miss some people. Ah well. I’ve disappointed myself a lot in 2011. I got off the “diet”, first with a bad injury and then the move. 2011 also gave me clarity in a way – the way of loss. The flood at my mother’s where a lot was ruined or lost. I have a dining room table and foyer full of photos and negatives and supplies as I tried to save the packets that got wet….and quickly failed. Now they sit. Mocking me and my failure. But also it’s too hard. Too many ghosts that I can’t deal with. She’s back in her home now just in time for Christmas but merely driving down the long country highway to her house clenches my heart and wells at my eyes. Months later there are still too many signs of the destruction. A shed uprooted and wedged on it’s side in between a tree and another shed. Clothes and debris in tree branches. Bare foundations. But then I see the news and I see what a mid-west tornado looks like and how those people have nothing left. Or a fire. And I can’t even fathom dealing with that. Seeing my mom’s new house ruined and torn back to its studs and a mountain of tangible memories or just old shoes in a garbage pile in the driveway was bad enough. Heartbreaking enough.

2012. Moving on. I’m going to try to get some balance back in my body. For Christmas I got a sunlight-replacement lamp and a FitBit. I’m doing my best to beat this insomnia without the use of benzo’s but it’s slow going. I’ve got my sites on new, clean tracks: Wanton Wednesday posts are scheduled up for a couple months; e[lust] and the new schedule are up and running, the photo submissions idea is working quite nicely and I finally implemented SEO crap on the site that I should have done ages ago but didn’t –  so traffic is increasing slowly thanks to that. I finally updated my blogroll here, spruced up the contact methods to attempt to eliminate some of the headaches of emails I don’t want, I optimized the site so that it might load a little faster and hope to find a new direction for posting.

 Alrighty. Time to stop procrastinating today. Time to clean and reorganize my big desk and the office room in general, so that I can find sex toys when I need them or just so that they aren’t haphazardly laying around like they are now. Hopefully the oil man comes shortly, because I’m cold and we’re nearly bone-dry. Time to go cook my first turkey just for the hell of it.

 Posted by at 12:32 pm