My Writing

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Religious Sex Toys?

Several weeks ago, I saw a story come across my blog roll (from Violet Blue's site Tiny Nibbles).  It referenced "holy sex toys", so of course I had to click.  What on earth could that mean?

After reading the article, written for The Daily Beast by Allison Yarrow, I spent a good 1/2 and hour visiting some of the retail sites mentioned in the article.

Covenant Spice

Hookin' Up Holy
Intimacy of Eden
Kosher Sex Toys
El Asira

What struck me wasn't the idea of religious people having sex.  Duh...they have kids, right?  They have all the appropriate parts and feelings, too...yes?  What got me was the consumer aspect.  The toys sold on these sites are no different than the ones you'd find on any sex toy site or at any adult store.  But, the site try to take away the "dirty" overtone of sex toys by avoid pornographic sounding product names, nixing the sexy imagery, and keeping their descriptions and other text "clean" and professional.

I actually thing they have something here.

I can definitely say that there are certain stores I would not even go into because they look "unsavory".  For example, there are a few adult stores in is decently clean with some discreet alley parking.  Another is a trailer with the business name spray-painted across the front.  Hmmmm...which one am I more likely to choose?

Even when I'm feeling my dirtiest, I still want to feel safe (though I realize the lack of safety is sometime a turn-on for others).

Another thing they have right, in my opinion, is that sex isn't inherently dirty.  Sex is natural.  It should be fun.  Some people have fetishes or like to add a bit of kink (which is a relative term anyway, since what is kinky to one person will be rather tame to another).

I like "dirty" sex from time to time.  The kind that makes me feel a bit slutty...the kind that pushes my boundaries and makes me blush when I think about it later.

But I also like having that sort of intensely emotional sex that makes me feel that much closer to my husband.  I'd definitely say that this kind of sex borders on spiritual.  Married sex should be everything both partners want it to be.  A healthy sex life is an important part of a healthy marriage.  It's a well-known fact that sex is at the top of the list of things causing the most discord in marriages.  Part of the problem is simply in communication.  One partner wants one thing but doesn't know how to tell the other or isn't willing to admit it for fear of being judged.  The other partner feels pushed or ignored or any other number of unintended emotions.  It leads to a downward spiral.

I've had the best sex of my life since I've been married.  Part of it is experience...but a major factor is that we talk about it...a lot.  We share fantasies, try things out (not everything works, mind you), and discuss things afterward.

It's about trust.  No matter what we try...a new toy, a new position, a new setting, a new partner...there's always an out.

Don't get me wrong...we have our ups and downs...our sex life cycles...our wants and needs change over time.

But we never stop talking about it.

I could only hope that all marriages would have this type of trust and communication.  And if websites like these can help others realize that everyday people have amazing sex on a regular basis and that sex, sexual thoughts, fantasies, and extending one's sexual possibilities are not "bad" or "dirty"...then maybe there will be more people smiling on the street.

Honestly, everyone (of age) should be having sex.  It's good for the heart, good for the ego, and good for the soul.

Another little site, I came across:

Christian Nymphos

Kudos to these ladies for having the "balls" to start a site like this.  From their "position of the week" to their "romantic ideas", this is an invaluable resource for women of all types (Christian or not).  It's great to see people hacking away at the stereotype of the chaste, prudish, religious wife who hates sex and only has it to procreate.

No one should feel guilty for wanting or liking sex.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Preparing for Pleasure X 4

The dating game is complicated. Gotta find a place to meet someone. Gotta meet someone. Gotta figure out how to get that someone outta his or her pants. Gotta decide whether to leave before morning or stay until the sun comes up and do the walk of shame in last night's clothes. Gotta decide when to call or whether to call at all.

Now. Add two more people to the mix. Two of you know what you like, what you want, how to do it, how to get it from each other. The other two know the same things about each other. But, the game just got way more convoluted...two girls, two guys...finding a couple that both of you find hot - enough to fuck. And then there's the rules. Who's allowed to do what to whom? Who's gonna get it started? It's like brokering a sex deal from the get-go. You need a manager to get the best no one gets upset and everyone gets screwed.

The nice thing about "dating" in pairs is that no one goes home alone. Even if it's all a bust, everyone will go home and get laid. And that sort of takes the pressure off. There really is nothing to lose and everything to gain when you "date" as a team. You can psyche each other up, cheer each other on, pull each other out of the ring for a pep talk, take name it. I feel a lot safer having sex with some guy I barely know when my husband's right there. Something goes wrong and I know he's got my back.

Besides, the weird thing with swinging is that is really does seem to be the girls who are in charge. The guys often take care of the set up (at least in our relationship)...the emailing, the contacting, etc. But, when we get together, it often seems that the girls are the ones who get the actuall sex act started. Maybe it's because it's so much easier. And it's an obvious invitation to the gentlemen (though I think they like to sit back and watch for a bit, just to enjoy the goings on).

An added benefit is you get to talk about it later. What worked, what didn't, what you'll do again. Hours and hours of pillow talk and imagery to feast on until the next time. For us, swinging is a "sometimes treat." We don't have a lot of time...nor do we have a ton of money to travel. But, when we get lucky enough to find some people like us who just like to have a good time, there's fun to be had by all.

So, how do I get ready? The same way I would for any date...just hoping I'll get to fuck three people tonight instead of one.

Poetry: Morning


Waving your fingers beneath your nose,
I watch the aroma of last night's events
take you into a daydream.
Your eyes close and a smile plays across your lips.
It's enough to make heat rise in my thighs.
I love your face like that -
a satisfied dog lying in the sun on a hot day.

You slide your finger across your tongue,
making momentary eye contact with me.
My breath quickens briefly as I remember
your hands between her spread legs,
her back arched in release.
Her moans and whimpers were loud enough
to wake the whole building.

I felt and odd kind of pride
that made me bite my lip
and focus on outside of her left thigh
quivering next to my face.
I reach my hand up to squeeze her ass,
brushing your chest as I brought it back to my own.
I held my breath and waited for her to finish.

It's a view most wives don't get to see.
But, it's nice to know what you look like
giving pleasure to a woman...
so focused and intense and aware of what works.
And it did...
for all of us.

Easy Come, Easy Go

Digging through my old things in search of a notebook small enough to stick in my purse for writing while out to lunch, I found a cool little hand-made leather-bound, notebook made in Victoria, B.C.  The leather - pliable, and red - is wrapped like an envelope around five sections of paper that are sewn in to create a makeshift binding. It isn't sturdy, but it's pretty and soft.

When I opened it to write, I found this inscription (which I had forgotten was there).

You are in a fair way to create a whole nation of lunatics. -Walt
I'm fairly certain it was used out of context...but, the crux is this - I had just a relationship, which for me had been purely sexual, but for him (15 years my senior) was obviously much more.

I wrote this untitled poem beneath the words...

Left behind
in the dust
I can write my name
draw flowers and hearts
stick figures holding hands
which will collect more dust
where I can write my epic tale
of death
of lust for life
of need for love
a craving for the tragedy
of possibility
held within a first kiss
the last touch
from one who was almost a lover
but could not sustain.

It was a phase in my life where I ate men like a carnivore who enjoyed the kill much more than the meal.  I was young and felt jilted by a former, long-term boyfriend.  It wasn't like I was being intentionally vengeful.  But, I certainly wasn't worried about anyone's feelings.  Not even my own, really.  I had spent so many years being "good" and monogamous...and a relationship with a man who wanted sex less than a stereotypical unhappy middle-aged housewife.  It was degrading and disappointing.  And I was young enough and insecure enough to think it was my fault.

When I finally got out there, I kind of lost my head...I had several one-night stands (and I never called back in the morning like I said I would).  There was a certain air of freedom and power in the whole experience.

Eventually, I tired of it.  I looked high and low for someone I really liked and from whom I wanted more than sex.

I stopped looking.

And, as one would expect.  That's when I found it.

Love is like a poem.  When you search for the right words, they usually do not come.  Language is slippery and doesn't come when you want it to; you have to coax, caress, undress, and let it take you over.  A good poem, like a good love, is intoxicating, lustful - it makes you light-headed, weak in the knees, and warm in all the right areas.

I remember the first night I met my husband (face to face).  I'd already been talking to him for weeks, so I knew we had things in common, something to talk about.  But it was one of those moments (the unreal movie kind) when I made eye-contact, saw his eyes...those blue, blue, intense eyes and literally became weak.  Not in the "oh wow he's hot" way.  More like the "do you have a room available right now" way.  It was that intense.  And while I will admit I can be easy (under the correct circumstances), I tend to present as stand-offish, even shy.  I couldn't shut up that first night.  Nervous talking.  And then the asshole left me with a hug.  Totally reserved, and controlled...he hugged me goodnight.


Yes...he was that good.  Knew exactly what he was doing.

I could hardly wait to get him in the sack on the second mental verbiage building to a crescendo of "JUST FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME ALREADY!"


He still does that.  Damn him.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Original Stories

The Tenant

Eating Out

The Sensualist


Afternoon in the park 

Wearing Nothing but His Socks 

Instructions - part 1
Instructions - part 2

In Her Sleep

The Sweetest Perfume

Center of Attention 

My Favorite Barista 

Lights Out - part 1
Lights Out - part 2

The Proposition

The Mental Process of Concocting a Fantasy

Does she know any tricks?



On the Edge
Liberation Interlude
In the Bath
There's Nothing Quite Like the First Time
Strike a Pose
Make Your Move
The Phone Call
Independence Day
Suspicion - Part Two (guest writer)
Two for the price of one:  "Paybacks are a Bitch" & "A Family Affair"
A Much Needed Vacation
Let Freedom Ring
On the Green Line to Arlington Station
An Open Window
The Wrong God
Pre-marital Sex?
Borrowed Bodies
"I'm sorry, Daddy."

Masturbation Monday Shorts:

What I Would Do With You
Masturbating for Him
I know you're watching
Caveat Emptor

Original Poetry

Some of these links may no longer work, as poems are sometimes removed (along with posts) at the discretion of the author. Thanks for your understanding. Titles are listed oldest to newest (at the bottom).

The Image Poet
The Closet
Two Hours Alone with a Camera *HNT*
Darkness Falls
Craft, The Garden of Eden, Un-, and Victorian Romance
Ode to Love
Reading the Virgin
Too Tired to Touch Myself 
Perfect Cover 
A Marriage Ballad
There Is Never a Second First Time
Letter to My Lover
Lost and Found
Night Shift
Going Down on Girls
Change: An Autobiography
So Much Depends on Intended Discovery
Love Letter
A Window, Open to the World
Sex in the Alcove
How I Experience Your Pleasure
Little Miss Muffet
Bent Over the Bathroom Counter
Swollen Lips
The Wrong God
The Impotence of My Voice

Poetry Challenge poems...
Beneath Beautiful (acrostic)
In the Back Seat of the Bus (Alfred Dorn sonnet)
Inappropriate places to have orgasms... (Arabian sonnet)
Sex at Dawn (aubade)
The Dance (Australian sonnet)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Sex and the semi-colon

Real conversation just had in our house:

The Man of the House (TMH), while writing a "certification" for a couple we were "involved with" awhile back, asks me to proofread:  "Did I use this semi-colon correctly?"

These two are a fun couple; both of them charming, sexy and fun to be around.

Me, the nerdy grammar geek:  "No, you need an "are" after "them" because both parts have to be a complete sentence."

He looks at frustration...and adds the "are".

TMH:  "You just like the semi-colon because it looks like a pussy in a 69."

Me:  "No, if you look it that way it should be an exclamation point."

TMH:  "No, that would be one of those weird Bushman exclamation points (insert throat clicking here)."

Me:  "See, I was thinking of it more like a clit and a slit beneath."

Laughing....over our highly nerdy, strangely sexual grammar debate.

(This is normal in our house.)

The semi-colon is, indeed, the sexiest, and most misused, punctuation mark on the planet.  Maybe that's why I find it so sexy (or maybe he's right, and my bi-sexual leanings go much deeper into the subconscious - all the way to my more conscious usage of punctuation) .  If the person using it, uses it correctly, then he/she obviously has some measure of intelligence.  It's a geek thing.  Now, I am in no way saying that TMH is not intelligent.  Quite the contrary.  I find it amusing that he has such difficulty with this little dot and swish.  Such a coy little minx - winking and confusing the public masses with her confounded rules.

It's just one of those things; not everyone gets it.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Sastifying, Sexy T.V.

Quite awhile ago (I'm not sure why I'm just getting around to posting about it now), I was clicking through the rather unimpressive instant-view choices on Netflix, when I came across a show out of Australia called Satisfaction. My husband was at work, so I decided to give it go (it looked pretty "girly"). I ended up watching 2 episodes the first night, and was hooked within 4.

The premise is this: A group of women who work for a high-class brothel in Melbourne go through the daily struggle to maintain real lives amidst the drama unfolding at work. Yes, it's a sexy show. Yes, the ladies are attractive. But, I really did, just as the Herald Sun article (see below) predicts, become attached to the characters and their individual struggles. Each show focuses on one of the main characters. So, over the course of a season, you get to see how hard one character works to be a sex worker AND a mom/girlfriend, and how one tries to attend school and maintain her creative side. Probably my favorite episode deals with one of the older women working at the brothel as a "hostess" being propositioned by a customer. She decides to go ahead and try being "one of the girls", and ends up being a central figure for the rest of the series. And my favorite character is by-far the manager (who later becomes the owner). Natalie, with all of her quirky/kinky sex interests, just grows and grows and takes on a darker and darker sexual image as the series unfolds.

I've complained about porn plenty on this blog. Shows like this get at what women want in seductive television a lot more successfully than porn does. It's sexy...nixes the cheesy music...and provides background story and emotion. The show really does provide something for everyone. It doesn't shy away from anyone's sexual interests, mock them, or make fun. It isn't a new series, and since it is not a U.S. show, the only place I have found it is on Netflix (the DVDs won't work in most U.S. players). There are only 3 seasons, regretfully. Though, as the 3rd season commences, it is easy to see why it fell apart. All of the main characters move on, which left me feeling a little cheated as a viewer. I didn't like the new characters nearly as much as the old, and I never did manage to watch the last two episodes. I suggest the series, however, because the first two seasons are fantastic. Interesting subject matter, well-acted, and truly seductive. Pure Satisfaction.

Satisfaction explores the inner workings of the sex industry (Herald Sun) - REVIEW


Thursday, January 5, 2012

Explaining Nude Art to Children

I was standing in the bathroom, applying mascara or brushing my hair, or something.  From the bedroom I heard his small, inquisitive little voice:  "Daddy, why is that lady spraying the hose up her skirt?"  (I snickered, covered my mouth, and remained glued to my spot, listening intently for daddy's response.)  "She's not...she's just holding her dress out of the way so it doesn't get wet."  "Oh."  End of discussion.  Very nicely dealt, daddy.

That one was easy.  The ones that are coming, might not be.

As you can tell, I love my pin-up art.  So does my husband.  And we display it proudly in our bedroom.  It's not like it's all over the house, above our son's door, in his playroom.  It's not even as if the photos and paintings we have chosen are even that explicit.  We don't bombard him with sexual imagery.  But, we don't necessarily hide it either.  Especially when it's art.

But, that's where it gets nebulous, huh?  What does one allow children to see?  Is nude art obscene?  What is the difference between art and pornography?

Okay, okay...I've opened a can of worms worthy of a dissertation...for which I do not at all have time.

Suffice it to say, I am aware that my tastes will continue to warrant discussion, explanation, and possibly defense at some point.

Suffice it, also, to say, I will not be removing the artwork.

Life is too short...and women too beautiful.