Reflections

If you were following me on twitter this week, you saw the emotional rollercoaster I was on. Tuesday was a very low point for me, perhaps the lowest I've been since my divorce. I was coming up to a very important work deadline (that happened today) and at the crisis point of "It's not going to happen!"

I knew October would be busy, but the exact number of "top priority" assignments that happened turned into way too many twelve and fourteen hour days, weekend hours, high stress levels, and very little acknowledgement of just how hard I worked to make it all possible. My boss has said repeatedly he believes in having 5 "number 1 priority" assignments and being able to handle it - its part of how he manages. Well, that culminated to Tuesday, partially.

What else happened Tuesday, because I kept it off twitter, was the BF and I were having an argument. A really, really bad one. I was at work, so it all happened in angry texts (never EVER smart) and things were said out of anger and not clarified for hours.

Even in my crappy marriage, I've never fought quite like this. To some that might be surprising, but I think, when you are really in it, it means more to you and you're willing to fight harder for it.

The text that refocused me was this one:
I am sick of your job spilling over and I pay for it with you being crabby with me.

Ouch. I completely deserved that. My mentor frequently tells me that I need to get a handle on my stress. I need to learn to deal with it in a healthy way.

The thing is, I have almost zero healthy ways of dealing with stress. All I do is internalize it until I explode, like I did Tuesday night, into a pile of tears. And wait for it to happen again. It eats at me. I blame myself. I miss sleep. I skip meals. I stop worrying about my appearance. I'm way to focused on "making it better" when all I do is run around like a mad woman, not realizing I'm the problem, not the rest of the world.

For years I've struggled with "boundaries" on what is in my control vs what I think is in my control. Growing up, you just didn't make mistakes. Every mistake was considered "on purpose" and was therefore punishable. It didn't matter if you forgot or simply didn't know. You should have remembered or been smart enough to figure it out. In a way, it turned my sister and I into over-achieving machines. We both had straight A's until college where, if we got a B or B+, we cried over every test and quiz result. I have few fun stories from college because I spent so many hours studying and doing homework and working. I double majored in two degrees with ZERO overlapping credits while working part time and still managed to graduate in four years with a 3.89 GPA.

My career has been no different. If I'm not promoted at least every 18 months, I feel there's something wrong. If I'm not meeting every deadline and exceeding every expectation, there's something wrong.

That's not a bad goal to have, is it? My parents certainly don't think so. But then again, let's review my personal life. I don't exercise. I barely sleep well. I have frequent neck/head aches. I take stress home and turn on those closest to me. My life is backwards!

Tuesday night, he apologized. Then I apologized. And then I admitted something that is so hard to say: I need help. I don't know how to ask for it most of the time, but I'm going to try. I'm going to be vulnerable to him. I'm going to admit I can't do it all and I'm going to try and be open about how bad I am feeling right now.

Like the amazing, incredible man he is, he just held me and said OK. He helped me find words I needed to say, mostly by repeating, "Tell me. Just say it."

Tuesday night, I remembered to tell myself that: I'm human. Dropping the ball and not juggling all top 5 or 8 priorities is not a requirement. I will be OK.

Wednesday I approached work with a "Let's see how it goes and if its late, oh well" approach. Amazingly, more came together that day than the prior days. Accepting my limits helped me be a more stable and capable worker.

After being fingered to orgasm three times then fucked for at least 10 minutes with legs in all sorts of positions, I feel asleep reflecting on how giving  up my insane need to juggle it all actually made me happy and productive. I realized what I needed: more self-acceptance and I needed to make time for myself.

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Then I remembered what Kendra Holliday tweeted earlier about Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Your goal should be to reach the tip! The only way to do that is be authentic & think for yourself. Ditch the shame!

Fuck. In Maslow's hierarchy, I was living in "Safety" and flirting with Love/Belonging. At work I had Esteem, but I was nowhere near close to the top.  I needed more.

I have a spare room that contains rubbermaid bins and an exercise bike. A dusty, exercise bike. Also, a yoga mat I've never used. The walls are all white. I never go in there. But what if I cleared out the bins and bought some paint? What if I bought a giant pillow for sitting on while I do some calming meditation? What if I painted half the room day and the other half night in a beautiful outdoor setting? What if the theme and purpose of that room was: peace. self-awareness. self-love.

What if I actually made myself a priority and put myself ahead of work -- only to discover what others have told me will happen -- so I can be truly successful as myself in all aspects of life?

I'm going to give it a try.   

Positive Reception

I write this blog in relative anonymity. In a way, I really hate having to do this. I love to be honest and just talk and share about sex and sexual experiences. I don't have a problem sharing, yet I suspect others see me as unwilling or disinterested. A couple of years ago, I was compared to "Charlotte" from SATC because, apparently, I'm viewed as very proper and not very kinky at all. If only they knew...

I've actually told 2 real life friends about this blog. The reception has been better than I really expected.

First I told a friend from college who I had actually shared a bit of my private life with before I even started my blog. I know her to be very open minded and I knew she would be understanding if not accepting of my writing. As it turns out, she really likes (possibly love) my blog. She identifies as queer and I love talking sexuality with her. I thought she would only take a look at it, but I think she's become a (semi) regular reader.

Then I told my sister. I really wasn't sure if she'd be interested, but one day I just blurted out "So I'm a sex blogger" and I didn't get much of a reaction. A few months later I mentioned it again and she wanted more details. A few days later, I sent her the blog link.

Within minutes I was getting all sorts of questions. What's pegging? What do you think of ____? What do you recommend for a vibe? What about lube?

And the floodgates of communication opened like I had always wanted but was unsure could happen. We can fully talk about sex and toys... it was such an awesome day when she told me that she no longer felt awkward talking to me about sex. She calls for advice and no question is off limits.

We don't share intimate details (OK, well I do on the blog...). At the most we share topics of how often, what we like, what we did, how sex fits into our normal routines. I've given her topic previews of what is coming up on the blog. Some things she wants to hear, others give her pause with a reaction like, "What? You had a guy over and pegged him? Wow."

There's no judgement. Not everything is a shared interest, but that would just make our conversations boring.

I couldn't have hoped for a more positive response from my college friend or my sister (my best friend). I'd love to share with a few more friends who I think might be open to my perspective, but I'm not rushing things. For now I really enjoy my anonymity and I have no intention of just outing myself to the world (however fun the initial shock might be).

In reality, it took a leap of faith for my college friend to come out to me and then for us both to share about sexuality and our personal experiences. The same could be said for my sister. If either had had a negative reaction it wouldn't have changed a thing, but I've gained so much in return. The most important is being valued for my true self, which is the best I think anyone could hope for.

On a final note, the funniest thing that's been said about my blog: "Now I know you've been naked on everything, especially your couch. I don't want to sit on it now."

My response, "Hey, we haven't spilled any bodily fluids on it!"

Sometimes, real life interrupts

It shouldn't surprise you to know that life does interrupt our sex life at times. We may make plans and they may go completely awry. Not everything is amazing, incredible, gorgeous, hot sex.

By now, we've had a variety of these experiences. Sometimes we plan to have sex, and then we're too tired. Or he's going to eat me out, but my period starts a day early. Sometimes we try a new position, and we don't like it. Or he fucks me too hard during the afternoon that I don't want anything in my vagina that night. Sometimes we plan to peg, and he doesn't want to when the time comes. Occasionally, we get distracted by another activity and just go with the flow. My hands feel that good on your cock? Well look who's getting a hand job tonight!

Wednesday night, we were planning on pegging him. We took a shower and I plugged him up. We went to the couch and watched TV and then got ready for bed. I got out a new dildo we hadn't used yet - I planned to hand fuck him then use the hitachi on the base while it was in him.

I slid the dildo in. It's our first one that had little ridges on it. He didn't like it; it wasn't all the way in until he told me to take it out. It was uncomfortable. I removed it and set it aside. I reached for another dildo, the Siren we normally use, but he said no. He went to the bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, I was sitting there, unsure what to do. He returned the same look. So... normal sex? We both agreed, yes.

We kissed and started playing with ourselves. I was still wet from my earlier hitachi use... I played with the wet, making sloshing noises as loudly as I could, at his request. I played with my vagina entrance to get the loudest sound. He bit his lip in excitement, watching me. He kissed up my body from knee to lips while I did this, jacking off his dick. It made me giggly, and turned me on.

After a final kiss, he moved to position himself between my legs. I opened wide for him.... then realized I had a pillow under my shoulders. I prefer to fuck flat on my back. I reached behind me to pull it out and throw it to the side - and the movement made me fart. On him.

Horror! We exchanged a very brief look, his face amused, mine shocked. "Did you just fart?"

Oh gosh. I hid my face under the pillow. He was laughing, I was laughing. My whole body was shaking as I buried my head in shame. I nodded yes, not that he needed confirmation. He wanted me to come out from under the pillow. I shook my head no.

We burst into more laughter. I could not help but recognize the irony. Here I am, sex blogger who professes to be sex positive and I pride myself on realizing that stuff like this happens. This isn't the first time I've accidentally farted during sex, but it was the first time with him. And in some ways, I'm very much a girly-girl and I personally don't like farts at all. I recognize they're normal, but I prefer to think they don't happen. And that I don't let them happen ON him when we're about to have SEX.

He let me have a few moments to compose myself. When I didn't come out, he commented that he bet I was red as a beet... which resulted in another round of laughter for us. I said I didn't want to come out, I was too embarrassed. He didn't push me or rush me.

He sat back between my feet and started jacking off again. "Guess I'll have to take care of myself then," he said, trying to get me to come out from my hiding spot. I said that was fine with me.

But then I started listening to the sound... and I realized my feet were in close proximity to his body. I ran a right foot tentatively up his chest. I couldn't see anything, so I went by feel. I wandered up his body again, this time feeling for his face. I found his neck and ran up to his face. His lips found my toes, his free hand guided my foot around his mouth. He kissed my toes, the bottom of my feet.

I ran my foot back down his body and back up. I scrunched my toes around his nose. His tongue licked the arch of my foot, then he started flicking in between my toes. His tongue was strong, warm, and wet. It felt so good and turned me on. He moaned lightly as he kissed my feet. I scrunched my toes again and he sighed. He loves it when I grip his face.

He moaned and then said something completely unexpected: "This reminds me of how I got off the other day."

"What?" I could not remember doing anything with my feet this week.

"Yeah... I jacked off sniffing your shoes... oh I came so good."

"What!?!?!" Another revelation. He's never expressed interested in smelling my shoes. I knew it was interesting to some foot fetish guys, but he's never said or shown anything. And then I needed to know, "Which shoes?"

"The purple ones... your flats." Oh, so my favorite pair of shoes... my 2-year old purple suede Nine West shoes that I've worn at least 50% of the time the past two years.

"Show me?" I wanted to see it. He agreed. Out I came from under my pillow and off to find my shoes. I retrieved them and gave them both to him. He took one in his free hand, kept his dick in the other, and took a deep, long sniff into it. I watched, so curious and fascinated.

His eyes rolled back in pleasure. "Baby, your feet are so very sexy. I love how sexy your feet are." Another sniff and his body started to lean back away from me. I placed my feet near his balls, and scrunched his testicles with my toes. His body visibly tensed. Another sniff. His jacking off motion was slower now. He didn't need that much stimulation. A final sniff and he was cumming. Hard. My feet continued to scrunch at his balls. His body trembled as cum poured from his cock.

And then we went to bed, me cuddling to his chest in his arms. The night wasn't anything like we expected or planned. We recovered and took it to something beautiful. And that is real world sex.

Then I cried when he ate me out

Note: This is part 2 of a 3 part series on one evening of sex. Read part 1 here. 

 I laid back, waiting for him to make his move. Had I changed his mind?

Yes, I had. He laid down in between my legs to see my freshly shaved pussy. He laid sideways so one of my legs was over his body. I opened my legs far for him, and one touch of his finger to my clit, so light, so gentle, had my eyes closed tight. He slowly slid his tongue over my clit and I moaned loudly. He teased me lightly, fingers from both hands wandering around my pussy.

I moaned and cried out, he flicked his tongue across me rapidly. It was like heaven touching me. My whole world became my clit, my pussy, my vagina. A finger in me, gentle, barely there, tantalizing me as his tongue wandered up, down, and circled my clitoris. His tongue wandered down me, to the spot just below my clit.

As he teased me, he would stop his tongue and not move it, just let it sit on me. My body would tremble, and I begged him to move against me. He would sometimes remove his tongue altogether and yawn, I could feel his whole body fill with air. But he didn't act tired as he played with me, he continued loving my clit. His finger wandered further into me, fucking me gently as he sucked at my clit. His wet mouth felt amazing on me.

Then another yawn. But this time, I heard something different. He wasn't exhaling air. He was inhaling.

"Are you smelling my pussy?" I ask, bewildered.

"Mmhmm," he tells me. He inhales again, and I feel his fingers pulling my lips wider apart.  I am awed. he goes back to licking my pussy, and I feel a wave of emotions hitting me. My eyes prick with tears. I am overcome. He is eating me more intensely, and I'm moaning in high pitched almost squeals of pleasure.

He smells me again, and eats, and smells more. Now that he knows I'm aware of what he's doing, he's smelling me more, nose practically touching me as he fills himself with my scent.

I am overwhelmed. I start to cry a little as he eats and sucks at my clit. I'm almost to orgasm and I'm feeling the most wonderful, compelling joy I've ever experienced. He sniffs and smells me, he inhales as deeply as he can. Finally, I start to cum and it feels good but I'm distracted by my emotions of the moment. As I'm cumming his finger takes over my clit, but I push his wrist away. I can't take it. He stops and sits up, confused.

He looks at my face and asks what's going on. I look at him, and the reality of my experience takes over. I look at him with blurry eyes, I try to tell him, to find words. But I can't. Tears start to fall down my face and he puts a hand on my face and asks me gently what's up.

I try to verbalize the whirlwind I'm in, "I'm.... I'm... just..." and then I'm in full tears, crying. "I'm so happy!" with a sob I roll to my side and curl up into a little ball. He immediately surrounds me, holding me to him. He's cradling me against him and I'm wrapped around him. I'm sobbing into him. He's letting me cry. He's not sure what to say.

"You just... you just don't know what it feels like!" I cry. "To go from being told you're so dirty and gross to be loved like this..." I can't describe what I'm feeling. All I can do is just cry into him. "I never imagined that someone could ever love my body like this."

He holds me, and chuckles, "Honey, I love you. You are so beautiful, so sexy, I love every part of you. He was a moron you smell so good baby." He holds me tight to him.

I calm down and he kisses my cheek wet from tears. He makes sure I look into his eyes and he asks if he can continue making me cum, he's not done yet. I bashfully nod my approval.

He kisses my stomach as he crawls down in between my legs again. He smells me more, pulling my lips wide. He licks and sucks at me more and more. I'm in emotional ecstasy, and he makes a show of smelling me as much as he can. Big, deep breaths. He makes me cum twice more.

I feel vulnerable, close. He moves up to kiss him and I taste sweet on his mouth. But then he shows me his very hard dick, and he tells him he needs to fuck me, the smell of my pussy has made him rock hard...

to be continued.

When there's a difference in sexual pasts

Today I read a new blog entry by Liza called "Did We Miss Anything?" In it, she talks about what she and her husband have not done in their sexual lives (one night stands, friends with benefits, etc.) She asks Did we miss anything by being "good?"  


Interesting question. Its one I've certainly had to consider. During my married days, I certainly regretted a lot of my sexual life. Why did I not have sex before marriage (a whole entry right there one day)? Will I always be trapped in this unfulfilling experience? Will I never get to experience all the sexual stuff that I want? Did I miss my chance in having "fun"?

Then I got divorced and suddenly everything was on my terms again. I really thought my first sexual experience post-divorce was going to be my first girl-girl action, but it wasn't. Instead the BF and I got hot 'n heavy and I was in a relationship. This time, before things were official, I made sure he understood that I wanted some girl-girl action... it was a deal-breaker if he wasn't OK with that. He was fine, but he wanted some guy-guy time. OK, deal. And those moments happen with the other's consent and the other is always allowed to be present/witness. I can live with that - it is still OUR relationship, not me+random girl or him+random guy.

There's something to consider, however, when entering a new relationship. Its the talk of the exes... having never been in a relationship where there was a prior ex (my ex had never dated anyone before me), I wasn't really sure what I needed to know vs wanted to know. It was a minefield of emotions, too.

I lost my virginity at 20. The BF lost his at 14. I've slept with 1 person other than him, he's slept with 1 guy and 6 girls, at least. Its not a huge number, but for me it seemed huge compared to my one, which felt like it barely counted. For the first time in my life I felt like I could be compared to someone and I had no idea how I would "rank" so to speak.

Why is ranking so important? Well, I'm a competitive person. I want to be the best, the first, always. It affects my school and my job and well, my personal life. In a relationship I should be the most important - but what if I'm not the best "lay" he's had? What if my inexperience makes me bad in bed? What if I don't have the nicest pussy? What if he's more turned on by others visually than by me? Would it kill me not to know? Should I even ask? Is this line of thinking completely bonkers and sabotaging or is it something I should legitimately care about since it means something to me?

And what about love? He says he loves me, but what if he doesn't love me as much or more than he's loved another? What if he's had fantastic love in the past and I'm a consolation prize because that one hurt him too much? What if I love him more than he does me?  What if he always looks back and remembers how he loved one of the others more than me?

Ultimately, I decided that I would not jump into 20 questions, and I would let things go and do some self checks before my mind continued to get carried away.

I don't know if the competitor in me drove me to be better in bed, but I certainly wanted to be the best. Being the first to ever make him cum from oral put a nice check in my column, for me. As time passed I got more checks: the best hand job, the best orgasm, the longest orgasm, the best head... and finally, one day, the best sex ever. In a weird way, it was me saying I WIN to every chick who's had the privilege of him in bed before me.

Yes, winning like this.

But really, does any of it matter? One of his first "love messages" on facebook contained the lines, "i love you. you tell me you love me now. and i love it. i cherish every letter of it each and every time you say it. its the 3 words from you i want to hear forever. and as long as you say it nothing else matters...  not the women i've been with, not how many guys you been with.." I reminded myself of those words many times in the first few months of our relationship. I know that he's had "a LOT of sex" with pretty much all of his exes (his emphasis, not mine)... a lot in the sense that what we have is barely comparable.

That's a lot of sex which I've never had/experienced in life. Do I regret it? No, I don't. I am who I am because of my prior sexual life (or non-life). I get to experience the greatest sexual awakening of my life with the most wonderful, caring man. For him, he gets to help me on the journey, watch me grow and develop. Help me explore myself, my boundaries, our experiences. Sex has never been better for either of us... and it all comes back to our mutual love and respect for each other.

We are, after all, nerds in love

He's had a wide breadth of experience. If anything, its a bonus that he comes to me experienced and knows how to generally please women. For us, its been pretty fantastic from the start. We've learned each other's bodies and likes pretty well. What I've learned is that it doesn't matter what or who he's done in the past because its the past. Just as my own frustrating hurtful experience contributed to me today, his past has helped shape him for who he is. And its in the past. He doesn't judge me for staying in my marriage for so long just as I don't judge him for sleeping with more women before me.

Our relationship is about us, not the past. Once we were talking about sharing "too much" info about the past  and I remember he bursted out with, "Look, you think I like to know about your ex? If it were up to me he wouldn't exist at all, there'd be only me." We both feel the same way - ideally there wouldn't be a past, there'd be just us and only us and our lives together. I'm not going to allow the reality that there were others ruin anything I have in the present for it.

And one day, I'll be the first and only girl he's asked to marry him.

Formspring Friday: Problems orgasming during sex

Q. Hello... I have trouble having an orgasm through having sex, and oral. I use vibrators a lot in my spare time and wondered if there was a way I could get my orgasms back through having sex... any suggestions?
First things first - if you don't cum through penetrative sex, you are 100% normal and this is WAY more common than being able to cum from penis-in-vagina sex. Most women will never cum from vaginal penetration alone. (Are you listening - male partners of the world?) So if its not happening, don't be surprised and don't feel bad! Be honest if you can't cum this way - your partner needs to know how to make you cum. You know your body best, so be straightforward. There's nothing wrong with a little tutorial in giving a good handjob or how to use a vibrator on you. There's no reason why you can't have an orgasm with a partner, but its up to you to communicate what works for you.

This position + toy on your clit would be good to try

From the last part of your question it sounds like you used to cum through vaginal penetration, but are unable to do so now. You do cum through vibration - I'm assuming on your clit or a combo of vaginal/clit stimulation. So you know how to make yourself cum - now its getting you to cum with a partner, preferably while having penetrative sex with your partner. Perhaps you need to add some clitoral stimulation to sex. This can be done with fingers or sex toys.

Clit + dick = awesome

Positions: If you're in missionary, he can reach down and place a hand to help grind against you. You can use a cock ring with a vibrating bullet to stimulate you while he thrusts or grinds. You can also use a larger toy like a bullet vibe, finger vibe, or handheld vibe to hit the right spot. You can reach your own hand down to masturbate yourself while he's fucking you. Your partner can also shift their position on you so he/she is higher up on your pelvis and could possibly grind against your clit (this works wonders on me, personally).

One of the best positions is cowgirl, where you sit on top and ride him. You control the angle and the amount of penetration. This is the best position to get your clit involved - or have a toy positioned to ride against it. You can also try doggy style with a cock ring flipped around and aimed at your clit. Your partner can reach around you to manually rub your clit while you're being fucked.

Great way to please you both!

Now let's talk about oral sex. Not everyone can cum from oral sex. (If this surprises you, that's OK!) Oral sex is highly sensual and arousing - but it may not offer enough stimulation to cum from it. Maybe your partner just needs some tips - and that's ok. Here are a couple of links that give some great advice. First, my personal favorite (and the best advice I've ever seen on the subject) and then some tips from the blogging world from real-life people, and another, more basic approach.

Eye contact - wonderful.

Some women require stronger, more direct stimulation on their clit in order to cum. My advice then: try adding some fingers to the mix to stimulate your clit or vagina or both. Use a vibrator or dildo in your vagina while your partner goes down on you. Its your body and you'll know what's getting you there or not. If you still can't orgasm - they enjoy it still! It will still be wonderful and incredible and highly erotic. When you want to orgasm, have your partner switch to a toy or technique that will get you there.

So what if none of this works - then incorporate your current toys that do work and show your partner how to use them. Explore, try things out, talk, work together on it. After all, practice makes perfect.

Want to ask me a question? Just head to formspring.me/billikesscifi and ask anything you want. Really. Anything. Try me. I'll answer the following Friday.

Adam & Eve fail - Tweeting Misleading Info on Vaginas

It makes me angry when someone who is supposed to be an expert in something intentionally misleads their followers. Today, I saw a well known sex toy company post about a controversial topic with a link to a dubious article. Here is the post and the website link.

For me, Adam & Eve are an expert in the sex toy industry. They've been in business for over 40 years and have sold products to more than 7.4 million customers. On twitter, when this tweet was made, they had over 26,000 followers. Obviously, they have a respected following among the sex toy industry, helping their customers achieve sexual satisfaction.

That's what makes this tweet so offensive to me. The tweet read: "How To Tighten Loose Vagina For Sexual Gratification" then followed with the link.  I have an issue that a loose vagina is necessary for sexual gratification, as can be implied from the way this is worded. A vagina does not have to be "tight" to be sexually satisfying! What exactly is "tight" or "loose" anyway? It depends on the vagina and the penis and each person's preference.

If your vagina is loose, does it mean your partner is unhappy with you? Can't get satisfied from you? Wishes it were someone else's vagina? No, it doesn't. If your partner mentions that you're loose, the next thing that needs to happen is a conversation. Is this just an in-the-moment observation compared to normal? If there's anything I've noticed from my vagina, is that some days its tighter and other days its looser. It depends on my mood, my hormones, how horny I am, what toys I've been using. If its consistent, let's consider two possibilities: A) The guy has a tiny dick or B) you're vagina is/has changed.

As the article mentions, the most major change a vagina goes through is childbirth. The great expansion and stress from childbirth does stretch out the vagina. The muscles are weakened. It does feel loose. It is different after childbirth. How does that affect you? That's a conversation only you two can have together. You need to discuss what it means for you both - is this a big deal, or no issue? No one can tell you whether your vagina is good or bad -- and no one should.  Just because you or your partner has goes through vaginal delivery, it doesn't mean sex is over or you'll never experience sexual satisfaction ever again.

However, the author of this article could be a bit more gentle with his language when it says that a vagina that has gone through childbirth becomes "wide pot-hole like." Wow, what a way to make your female readers feel good about being new mothers! Or your male readers look forward to sex post-baby. What kind of baby am I giving birth to, anyway? A 5 year old? Could you be more negative? How about a few sentences later, when the author states, "But if the vagina turns loose, this does not happen and so the partners do not get the desired pleasure out of the sexual act. Continuous dissatisfaction in love-making may deteriorate the emotional bond between couples, putting their relationship at stake."

So... if I go through childbirth or my vagina loosens with age (or whatever reason), I'm at a risk of losing the emotional bond and my relationship may fail -- did I get that right, Mr. Article Author? And Adam & Eve, is this the message you really want to tell your fan/customer base?  Well, let's follow the same logic: one night my partner can't get it up, or it takes him longer to get hard. Well! there goes the relationship! Childbirth = relationship killer! No wonder the divorce rate is so high... right?

NO. This is such a terrible message to spread to any sexually active or to-be-one-day-sexually active person. Man or woman, it doesn't matter. It sets the wrong expectations and the wrong focus on how sexual gratification is received. Sexual satisfaction is so much more than penis-in-vagina friction. That is really only a small part of it -- what about the intimate kissing, touching, talking, feeling? The sharing of your body and mind with your partner? If a slight change in penis-in-vagina feeling is ALL that your relationship depends on, you shouldn't be in that relationship!

Let's get to the article's real sketchy advice on "fixing" this problem. The first solution is actually reliable - kegel exercises. These are real, medically backed exercises that do improve vagina muscles and increase sexual satisfaction for women. The stronger your vagina, the stronger your orgasms! You can do these on your own, or buy some specific exercise toys from your preferred sex store retailer to help you focus and build those muscles.  Now the article states that you should "Assume that a tampon has been inserted in to your vagina. Now contract your vagina to check the falling off of the tampon."  Erm, excuse me? When has a tampon ever "fallen off" or "fallen out"? That's not how the body works! This author has no idea how the female body works.

On to the remaining 5 suggestions - each one being dangerous and not recognized at all in the medical community. Vagina tightening pills and creams? Are you kidding me? I'll bottle some lube, add some food coloring, dangerous perfume, and call it a "tightening cream"! What, does that sound dangerous and irresponsible and something that I would only sell to make a fast buck? Bingo! And yet the author links to several sites suggesting them to be effective... These pills are made of astringents and the cream has glycerin. The website for this cream states that a tight vagina will prevent your man from cheating on you! (Head-desk.... FAIL). Seriously, Adam & Eve, did you even read this article and the links before you told your 26,000+ twitter followers?

And then one suggestion that I really hated - surgery to re-tighten your vagina. Any medically optional surgery should be avoided, in my opinion. These surgeries to "fix" or "rejuvenate" or "re-virginize" put a terrible expectation on women. There is nothing wrong with you -- stop "fixing" a problem that exists in the narrow-minded sexist person in your life! Surgery for "love" (or worse, "obligation") is the last thing a woman who is confident and self-respecting will do.

The last suggestion has me shaking my head. Weighted tampons? I've never heard of such a thing, so I googled it. Nada. So I'm guess the author is suggesting using a tampon as resistance to squeeze against? (Again - if he's suggesting we women have to hold onto a tampon, he's clueless about the female body.)  Tampons are actually kind of dangerous. You're never supposed to use one when you're not on your period and even then you could end up really sick. Your body was not meant to have a dry item in it for hours on end. I can't think of a more painful thing than inserting one when I'm not on my period... ladies, please don't ever do it!

And finally - a little info on this article. Oh Adam & Eve, did you even look at who the author was? This article is someone on blogger -- not my first idea of an "expert" by any means. The website is "MediMiss" and run by a guy who is a professional blogger/webmaster. So, no expert there. But he's not the article author - in fact, the author is the Jhon Napier, the guy selling those dubious (and dangerous) pills and creams that the article links to! He's just a guy selling herbal supplements that haven't been reviewed or medically tested by anyone... His website only claims that their products are manufactured in a safe environment. Well, thank goodness... now let's get them tested and deem them safe before we fucking insert them into one of the most sensitive areas of our bodies, shall we? Fuck you Jhon Napier!

I asked a couple of guy friends who have had babies with their partners and - shocker! - are still in a relationship after the fact. Was it different feeling? At first, yes. The vagina is still healing, just like any other normal body part will after trauma. Did it take longer to get off? Sure, at first it was more work. But you know what? As one guy pointed out, SEX IS WORK. Sex is a calorie burning activity - so new moms and dads, you'll be burning more calories post-baby. That doesn't sound like a bad thing to me!

On being sex postive pt2

Note: This is a continuation of my prior blog post about how I was in a long sex negative relationship and how I eventually escaped it by standing up for myself and what I wanted. This post is about recovering from the emotional damage and finding confidence in  yourself. 

In this post, I am brutally honest about me and my insecurities. In sharing this part of me, I hope I can show one person that has felt like I did or experienced what I have, see that there is something better out there.

At first glance, the BF liked what he saw in a few pictures of me. All I saw was an overweight, uncomfortable and awkward girl that didn't feel anywhere near cute or pretty or sexy. I saw beauty in my eyes, hair, and boobs, but everything else was... well, I didn't want to think about it.

These are my boobs.

Now he wanted more pictures. He wanted pictures of my feet. That was easy - I do have nice feet. Were they sexy? How was I supposed to know? Apparently they are because he jacked off to them the day he get my pictures. I remember modeling my feet, trying to figure out what the best angle was. In the end, I figured I couldn't go too wrong with feet.

We started skyping, and what he saw through my clothes he seemed to like, but I was so uncertain about going further. What if he decided he didn't like it? What if he wasn't attracted to me? What if he were disgusted or repelled by all the extra fat on my body? Would he care about my stretch marks, brought on by rapid weight gain from depression and medical issues? What about my extra body hair, where I have to pluck and tweeze and shave and wax almost every day?

He complimented me on my looks. It was uncomfortable. I didn't believe him. I couldn't see what he was saying - when I looked in the mirror, I hated what I saw. I hated to even watch the little window in the Skype screen that showed what I looked like. It wasn't pretty -- to me.

Eventually he asked to see my boobs. I have beautiful boobs, in my opinion, so I allowed it. When I pulled my dress down and showed them, he gave a little gasp and called them "Perfect." He loved the size of my DD's... my large areolae that are the lightest pink, and my big nipples. He didn't care about or even see the flaws that I thought might be there. I feared my nipples were too small, they pointed down rather than up, they were lower on my chest than I wanted. But to him they were perfect. He never called them anything else. He jacked off to me, watching me play with them. I began to believe him.

But then he wanted more. He wanted to see my ass. And now I was almost terrified. There was no way he would think my butt was nice. No one had ever complimented it. Ever. He asked and I said no for days. He kept asking. He seemed to like what he saw when I was fully clothed, but clothing could hide a lot. But he was so in love and interested in me, how could I resist? So one day I showed him. My back turned, facing away so he could see my butt, I heard nothing but a happy sound and he was telling me my ass was sexy, incredible, so beautiful. Exactly the kind of ass he loved.

And them my stomach. My stomach which is the biggest part of me, the most frustrating part. It's fine, despite its stretch marks and a fat roll that ends just above my pussy. He calls it sexy, he loves to see it, feel it. He doesn't care how it looks when I'm in my corsets or interferes with my underwear or strap-on harness. It's a sexy tummy for him.

I felt a change starting to take place in me. It was incredible, this feeling that someone could see me as beautiful or sexy.  Was it possible he could really like me for me, just as I am?

Fast forward a few weeks, and we are now skype masturbating together. I keep the camera focused on my chest and face. He coaches me through multiple orgasms, the first ones I've ever experienced. Afterwards, I flip on my stomach, still naked, head resting on my hands, giggling and talking with him. He asks me to shift the camera so he can see more of me. I turn it, so he can see some of my back, ass, and thighs. He loves the view. At some point he makes me laugh, and when I do my ass rises in the air slightly. He notices and his attention is drawn there. I lay my head down and push my ass up. His response is burned forever in my memory: He jumps up in his chair, punches the air, huge smile on my face, slight growl escaping his lips.

I ask him what is going on. He says, "Ohh god, you're so fucking beautiful! I can't get over it!" And I break into a smile, blushing red. He sees it immediately, and I'm hiding my face out of shyness. I'm overcome with this warmness in my heart, this joy infecting my soul. I'm convinced: to him, I am as beautiful as he could want me to be. Whatever the flaws and imperfections I see are unimportant and he sees only beauty there.

Time has passed since that moment, but I will never forget it. Every day he tells me over and over I'm beautiful, I'm sexy, I'm pretty, I'm perfect, I'm cute. He can't keep his eyes and hands off me. I totally and completely believe him.

But more importantly, I believe in myself. Beauty comes in different packages. I am going to work on getting back to the shape that I prefer for myself. I've started that journey and will continue it. But I am no longer trapped into one version of myself that is beautiful and the current version is not. That's not how it works. 

One of the keys to great sex is confidence in yourself. Without it, you'll never like who you are and it will show. Your partner will sense it but will have no clue on how to fix it. The only one who can fix it is you. You have to be willing to take the risk, trust in yourself, believe what that special someone sees in you. Find reasons to like it in yourself.  It has amazed me as I've wandered around twitter and tumblr how much "beautiful" is described in forms I would never have guessed. It isn't what you see on the newstands and in movies! Its variety in every size and shape and color of boob, areola, and nipple. I've seen tiny ones and huge ones I didn't know could exist - and I see hundreds of "reblogs" under all of these images, because so many people likes and appreciates them and want to jerk off to them.

Does that mean everyone likes everyone? Not necessarily, we all have our own tastes. If you are with someone who doesn't like YOU - and by you, I mean ALL of YOU - then fucking move on with your life. You don't deserve to be unhappy and feel bad about yourself with someone. Fix what you don't like if you can and find that someone who thinks you're absolutely gorgeous just as you are.

Beauty is never just about looks, its about personality, too. At the end of the day, a bitch is still a bitch no matter how great she looks. She's a short term attraction, kind of like a carnival ride. But no one wants a carnival ride for life. They want to go to the carnival and then go home and live life. My BF and I started out as anonymous friends before the physical attraction was in play. We were attracted mentally and (yay!) physically to each other. That is the winning combo.

On being sex positive pt 1

Disclaimer: This post has very little to do with sex. Well, actually it has a LOT to do with sex, but it does not contain a sexy story.

Lately, I've been thinking about the journey I've been on in the past 5-10 years. It's been a pretty dramatic transformation, personally. The last couple of years has been an insane ride. In an attempt to digest my past, present, and future, I've decided to blog about it. 

This is a new type of post for me, its personal. I already feel vulnerable and I've not said anything personal yet.  So let's get real.

I think it all started when I discovered at 18 that I had a condition called PCOS which explained some confusing things that made me feel different from other girls. Among them - an inability to have a regular period, the ability to gain weight rapidly and nearly impossible to lose, more hair on my body than what I normally see on girls, and a high probability I'll never be able to have kids.

That's a lot to take at 18, when life is just starting and you're told some of the best parts of you are defective and fucked up. At 18 I was not in shape but not out of shape. I was curvy and knew how to dress to accentuate those curves. I was also in a relationship with a guy who I thought I liked - after all, we got along great... but I didn't know what I was missing because I was just 18 and stupid.

He proposed when I was 19, and I accepted. I was 19 going on 25, or so I thought. I had my life figured out. Or so I thought. He ate me out for the first time on my 19th birthday. It lasted all of 30 seconds before he told me I tasted too bad for him to go on. I didn't have the nerve to ask him to try again for another 6 months. When he couldn't handle it again, I figured out I was the problem, just another defective part of my female system. I decided that life had officially screwed me, so I would just have to deal with it.

Youth is stupid. I got married at 20 and thought I was happy. Sex was boring. I remember losing my virginity and when it was over 30 seconds later I thought: that's it? Sad. I got little enjoyment from sex itself. Our first year of marriage we had sex about once a week. To me that seemed odd - isn't the "average" like three times a week? We're newlyweds, what's wrong? He couldn't understand it - why wasn't I interested? I wouldn't admit to myself what a mistake I'd made.

A lot was wrong. He didn't like toys. Our once a week turned into longer stretches of time until it was once a month when I would get so fucking horny I couldn't stand it. We'd have sex and then I'd have him give me a hand job until I came. When we had our once a month fuck I'd fantasize about other men to keep myself wet and in the moment. It helped, but it didn't fix the problem. I stopped asking for oral - it hurt too much to be told over and over how 'dirty' I was.

And it wasn't just the taste. He didn't like my smell. He would wash his hands after touching me, he didn't want the smell to linger. He would shower after sex to wipe our cum off. If cum spilled on the bed we had to wash the sheets immediately. All I felt was that I was dirty, gross, and there was no way that ME - my fluids and my desires - could ever be desired or enjoyed by another.

I told him I wasn't attracted to him. I wanted to be separated. I wasn't sure I wanted to be in this anymore. I was having sex dreams about exes and other men, never about him. If I thought about him I'd get turned off and could never cum. We couldn't afford to live in separate apartments like I wanted, so I moved into the other bedroom. It was wonderful.

Finally, I told him I wanted out. I couldn't take it anymore. At this point I was so desperate for some good sex I was almost ready to cheat. I never did, but it was close. What remained of our relationship ended quickly, and he was gone.

I felt free. Free, with a price. Years of feeling bad about myself, bad about what I liked and wanted had taken their toll. My weight was up nearly 65 pounds from that marriage. I felt ugly, fat, gross. I didn't seek anyone out - it wasn't even a consideration for me.

And then the BF entered my life. I delayed showing him my picture for months, afraid and nervous. I was too heavy, too unattractive. He would see it and run. Finally, I couldn't delay it any longer. But I told him I didn't want to disappoint him. I told him about that stupid condition I'm trying to control (with hardly any success) and how I don't like who I am today. I sent him that message via FB and went to bed, dreading the next day.

He wrote back with this: I see a short, bigger girl. who is very pretty. and does have a very sex body. your eyes are very pretty. they look to be baby blue. don't worry abut losing any lbs for me hun i love you just the way you are. and i do spend every waking hour thinking abut you. ps i iam falling very hard for you 

How the world changed!

To be continued.