this morning

He went between my legs and pushed his penis against my clitoris. He sucked my nipples, grabbed my right leg and pushed it back. He pushed his cock inside of me. This is a bad habit--we know how there's the little sperm in the pre-come. He pushed my wrists down and slipped in and out of me sweetly.

And then he got a condom and put it on and fucked me soundly. We spoke of how he could do whatever he wanted to me and fuck me as long as he wanted. I was so happy. And I offered to suck his dick. That was the first time we had intentionally taken off a condom without it being full of semen. I was afraid his dick would taste bad from the condom, but it was fine. I sucked away. I felt when he was about to come and didn't let him. I flicked my tongue around and tried to get it into the little hole. Then finally let him come.

He rubbed my cunt and found a good place on my clitoris that had been wanting his attention. At first, we were having a conversation about how nicely I had gone down on him, but the conversation dwindled as I was repetitiously mentioning god a lot. I have never been a screamer but came close today as I came on his hand.

Then we cuddled for a long time and talked about passion. "I think that was the way nature intended," I said because all that had occurred on natural lubrication, and I had more to spare. "But when you came in my mouth, that's not what nature intended!"

How nice a dick feels in a mouth or an ass is a design flaw? Or nature has accounted for this and gave us additional sex drive to compensate. It is so dumb to speak of what nature wants because of the complications of non-heterosexuality too. Sorry.

ice cream

Last night he was working at home. Our break was supposed to be ice cream. "I know something better than ice cream," I said and took off my shirt. He stared at my tits. I sat in my computer chair, and he carassed me, rubbing my nipples with this thumbs. He took his cock out and rubbed it on my breasts. He always says my nipples make him want to come on them. "Let's make your dream come true," I said, because in the morning he'd woken up from a dream that he was jerking off on my face.

It's easier to be close without penetration, both physically and emotionally, which makes it good for night. So we went to bed, and he played with my nipples while I jerked him off on my face and masturbated myself at the same time. We came at the same time again.

I like my attention to be so divided between his sexual building and mine, and I like when they become inseperable or conflated. I became more and more focused on his cock as he got closer to coming, aware with part of my brain that I was near coming also, but more in the background thoughts. He started to come, I saw his white semen shooting and dripping out, and I let myself come too, just a second later.

Some of his semen got in my hair. I always like that. We cleaned each other off with tissues and slept happier for this love.

game

Yesterday I made up a sex game. It was that we would take turns sucking one another--I would suck his dick, and he would suck my nipples--2, 4, 6, 8, and then 10 times. It was a really good game--you should try it. While he sucked my nipples, I jerked him off a bit. It was fun because each time you knew you'd get more and more. We like mounting anticipation.

Then we had sex with him on top of me, and I reached my hand in between us to touch my clitoris, and we came at the same time, which hadn't happened in months. It was wonderful, and wonderful just for something different. I liked to feel my clitoris as his cock made it swell and strain.

The other day I went down on him and made him come in my mouth. I was having a strong gag reflex that day and didn't swallow whatsoever. But it was lovely, and I have some pink tulips and white ranuculus to show for it. He's everything to me, and his cock specifically is everything to me. I'm so happy we're young, healthy, and alive. He says, "I want to fuck you forever," but I know we won't have bodies forever.

alarm

Our regular alarm clock told the wrong time yesterday. "Are you going to trust it to wake you up for work tomorrow?" I asked.

He also has this small vibrating alarm, the size of a small pager, orginially designed for the hearing-impaired. I sugested he should use that one. "Set it for seven, put it into a condom, and stuff it into your butt!" We laughed. "I bet it would wake you up!" I said.

"I don't think I would get to sleep at all," he said. Vibrating alarms are just funny and inspire these kinds of conversations.

the relationship between anxiety and sex

I was really anxious. We were lying in bed, and he was cuddling me for comfort. Then I was thinking of sex, and we were playing a game we play, had just got to "N" when I couldn't ignore his balls anymore and started kissing them without comment. I have an undeniable attraction to his balls, especially when they're loose and floppy, but this attraction is in service of another attraction--his dick. So I kissed his balls and then moved on to his dick, which is so kissable, and then proceeded to go down on him, game over.

My mouth and hand took turns, and I listened to him gasp and murmur. It had been days. He was sensitive. I took my time, and then had mercy on him and made him come.

We cuddled more, I washed my hands, and I took my time bringing myself to come too, with the blue vibrator inside me, and we felt very close there in the half-dark.

We cuddled more and went to bed early. We were so sleep-deprived.

Often it happens that anxiety will lead to sex--it's just the thing to get my mind off itself. The bad chemicals of fear can become good chemicals of excitement, sometimes. The mind is looking for something to turn to. Sex is about the only thing distracting enough.

incapaciting depression

I'm quitting the birth control pill. Anyone who needs 2 1/2 months of Micronor, let me know.

Before, when I said no more hormones ever? Well, I really mean it this time!

intellectual

My sex drive has definitely decreased. It might be the heat, the birth control pills, just a shift in focus? Before, I had been researching sex blogs a lot, and I don't know if the researching was filling me with lust, or the lust was driving me to research. At any rate, things have died down, and we're more like every-other-day. Which is fine.

There's a quote I've always liked:

An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex.
--Aldous Huxley

Is that quote offensive? Definitely provocative. Definitely simplistic.

I always thought of myself as intellectual--someone who liked reading more than TV, got some education.... Then, when I developed a libido again, I felt deep in my bones that nothing is more important than sex, nothing could be, and my entire life existed for fucking my husband.

Now that I'm calmer again, I see things with more detachment--I feel more moderate. But one day maybe things will shift again.

my breasts: an excerpt

This is section two of a longer essay I've been writing about my breasts.

They’re large and mostly round. They’re very soft, and less soft when the nipples are erect.

The skin is fair and filled with subtle stretch marks from my teenage years. The nipples and areola are pale.

I wear a bra only to work, seeing family or friends I don’t know very well, and to yoga. My most-worn bra is a loose pink sports bra, bought too big on accident.

My nipples can’t take a lot of stimulation at the beginning of sex, but after a few minutes, they love attention.

With poor posture I tried to hide them, but now I make an effort to push my shoulders back, which makes my breasts stick out, which is better for my muscles.

I admire them from above and in the mirror. They add joy to my shape. I caress them and let my husband do whatever he wants with them.

I remember the night he and I first got together. I was wearing my favorite green sweater. He rubbed his hands up and down the sides of my body. He touched my breasts before he kissed me.

loyalty

Feelings can be confusing, confused. They can be small and get big all of a sudden. There can be small shadow feelings behind the foreground, official feelings. Things can change quickly.

Or in a bad mood, you can suddenly see things have accumulated that you didn't even know about. And something that had been so small as to be ignorable suddenly becomes vital.

I was so happy with things in bed, but one day I got angry that every time I come, it's by my own hand. I had been so happy. But then there was an accumulation of anger at the inequity of our sexual roles. Every time he came, I made him come. Every time I came, I made myself come. He did help. I mean whose finger was on the clitoris.

One night I got so mad I said bitter, angry things that shouldn't be repeated.

So we talked about it, and last time we had sex, instead of me masturbating with his hands on my breasts, he touched my clitoris, and I touched my breasts. I gave him a few instructions. He listened to my breathing and sounds. When I came, it was beautiful and healing.

Is it disloyal to even speak of this? It's revolutionary to tell the truth. But he is my partner, and maybe I should be silent in respect. There are gender issues, since women have historically been told to shut up about their men and their feelings--maybe it helps the world in a small way to speak honestly.

But I do love my husband, and I don't want to slander him, even anonymously, which I think I just recently learned to spell. Maybe since the story has a happy ending, it's not slander. He is a dear. He is good-hearted, kind-hearted, and any neglect of equity is from obliviousness rather than intentional.

But I wonder sometimes how much that matters, what people are responsible for, and if a sin of omission ranks as high as a sin kinetic.

birth control for Mother's Day

The new birth control is a progestin-only pill sometimes called a mini-pill. My particular one is Nora-BE, which is the generic for Micronor. It's more important to take it at the same time every day than the conventional birth control pill, which is progestin and estrogen.

My reader brings up a good point about how maybe I should just get my tubes tied, and I was researching that yesterday, as well as a new procedure called Essure which has the same result as getting your tubes tied but without incisions. But it's too new for me to feel comfortable with.

Anyway, I am 29 years old and 99.9% sure I don't want kids, but I'm also 100% afraid of commitment. So I don't think I'll be getting fixed anytime soon. Maybe in another five or six years.

The procedure for vasectomy is a lot more simple and less expensive, but my husband's fear of commiment is as great as mine. "We've changed so much. I'm like a new person every six months," he told me yesterday in the shower. And he's right. I can't imagine changing into someone who wants to be a mother, but some really strange things happen....

Also, we don't have any support from family. My mom has been pressuring me to reproduce since I was about 18 year old. She very much wanted grandkids. Now she has two, provided by my brother and his girlfriend, but two isn't enough, and she would still be tickled pink if I had a kid or kids. Though she backed off a little when I told her that she really doesn't understand the extent of my mental instabilities. Mental health problems run in the family, both sides.

state park

Everything's going perfectly with the new birth control--I've done a great job taking it at noon every day. Because the instructions said we would be okay after 48 hours, we've treated ourselves with some condom-free fucking--without coming, but it was heavenly to be so non-chalant and easy!

The first time, I sort of dared him, and we both felt delightfully surprised. It was only a couple minutes, and he said, "I think we need to stop now!" I begged for just a little more. We went on to fuck with a condom, him behind me, and what a sense of emotional opening--something about the position allows the best sex I've known, though we never come at the same time. I think it has to do with animals selves and trust. He's the only partner I've ever completely trusted.

Yesterday we were at a state park among the redwoods, and we went for a walk. At night, we had a fire, and when it got dark, my mind turned to sex--actually, my mind is always thinking of sex! I wake up thinking of it, and I usually fall asleep that way too.

But my mind turned to sex with more concentration. I showed him my breasts in the firelight. I asked him to take out his penis and went down on him. "Let's get away from the light," I said, and led him to the picnic table. But that's when the ranger's truck drove up. We reaggranged our clothing and hurried back to our chairs by the fire.

"State Ranger," he said. It was just the usual 8:45 visit to tell us what time we had to be out. This park has generous day use until 10. My husband did all the talking and said the appropriate things at the appropriate moments. I just started into the fire and kept myself from giggling.

When the ranger left, we started over. I showed him my breasts again, and he rubbed my nipples. He shoved his dick between my breasts. I led him to the picnic take and had him lie back as I went down on him. His cock was vibrant and responsive in my mouth as I worked up and down, holding him tightly, and feeling his excitement. Sex in the forest holds a certain charm for us, and I had a feeling he could come easily--I was right. He warned me, "I'm going to come," and I was happy as I forced him to, and held him in my mouth until the thrusting gushes were over. We rested that way.

Then I lay back on the picnic table and reached my hand into my pants to masturbate while he lay beside me and played with my nipples. I looked up into the tree shapes far overhead. It was a full moon, and the sky wasn't completely dark. I breathed the cold air and felt so alive as I worked myself into a shuddering orgasm with a quiet cry.

We spoke in whispers and cuddled on the picnic table. I rubbed my face on his face over and over. I ran my fingers through his short hair. We spoke of what we had done and used the innocent language of when we were younger. As if being close in the forest again had brought us to our younger selves. Or we were feeling too moved to say the words that are playfully coarse.

family planning, first fantasies

He researched vasectomy and doesn't feel ready. "So much can change in five years," he said. In five years I'll be almost 35. It's hard to imagine I'll change my mind and want kids then. But he's right. We're both really scared of commitment, and getting fixed is a pretty big one.

I started a progestin-only birth control pill yesterday, and I don't know how much faith I have in its efficacy. The instructions said we could rely on it after 48 hours, but the person at the women's health clinic said two weeks, so I guess we're still on condoms for a little while.

My time for taking it is noon every day. I would like some kind of daily alarm to help me remember.

Yesterday we did my first fantasy again. I was blindfolded. He pretended to be a stranger, and I was a young girl. Most dangerously erotic was when he fucked my mouth, which he did three seperate times. My mouth has become very skilled in this role. I can feel every detail of his dick so beautifully. I also liked how it felt to grab and jerk off his cock with the blindfold on because I could feel its thickness and eagerness so much better without being overwhelmed by the sight.

When he fucked me, sometimes his dick was at an angle different from usual where my clitoris was getting stimulated very much, and I was panting at the edge of coming for so long and straining my whole self to rub against him.

My nipples felt better than ever. My cunt felt better than ever. My entire self was his and glowing with sex. We were sweaty and fully present with eachother, completely ourselves though we were pretending to be other people--how odd is that. And it was healing to enact this fantasy.

I was so frustrated as a 10 year old girl. I was filled with some of the most intense lust of my life with no skills to get it satisfied. I fantacised about being raped so I could know sex. I remember waiting in the car while my mom shopped in a store and wishing any man would come and rape me so I could finally have a deep need met, of course not knowing what rape is really like, not knowing anything but my own feelings and what I suspected from movies, innuendos, pictures, and hints.

Is 10 a little young for this? Maybe or maybe not. But this fantasy (of being alone in a hut at the edge of the village where a strange man will come and fuck me anonymously), while wholesome and good, is also tied up with a frustration that made me cry. And the frustrations of ignorance and religious oppression. So enacting it is good in many ways because the little girl in me finally gets fucked and I can let that part of me feel the peace of union.

pictures

This morning we took some erotic pictures of each other, which we had never done before--I think we were too afraid, if someone saw. But life's too short for those kinds of worries! And it was arousing and fun for both of us.

Pictures mostly of my breasts, and pictures of his dick, all in natural light, and I think they turned out very well.

Then I went down on him, and he took pictures of that too. Big and so real in my mouth.

Then we fucked in bed, and it was very lovely. "I belong to you," I told him.

"Take it," he said.

"Yes," I said.

It's easier to talk when we're face to face. I watched his expressions change, saw that almost-violent one I like so much, and when he came, I held him, then petted his hair. I masturbated and came, though I had a horrible headache that escalated the closer I got. So it was a mixed experience, interesting, and we lay there cuddling and looking at the pictures again.

to read about someone's first sex party

This morning an old friend sent me an account he wrote of the first sex party he ever went to three years ago. It's the only sex writing I have ever read by a friend, it was a new experience to see something so personal by someone I know, and I enjoyed it very much--the writing was engaging and clear. He's a great writer.

My husband felt cautious because I recently had a bad experience with a male friend who wasn't respecting my boundries. So my husband's on-guard for male sociopaths, which makes him edgy. And it makes me edgy when I feel he's monitoring me.

Though I know I won't be going to a sex party any time soon, I enjoy learning about other ways of being and cultures within cultures. Is it good for friends to talk about sex like this? I hope so, and I'm glad my husband is flexible with me as I try new things. Comfortable with discomfort. Every new experience adds up, and I want to have the richest life possible while still feeling my version of safe.

Yesterday I wanted to be spanked. I like the slaps and the way the vibrations feel as they wake up my cunt. I'm not the kind of person who likes actual pain--no bruises, for example--but this is something playful, and a nice sting that makes me feel lively.

"Did it turn pink?" I asked.

"A little," he said. I asked for harder and harder. I asked for a little soothing caress after each spank.

I remember when I was a little girl and spakings were something I fantacized about, injections too, in a way that I recognize now as sexual, but then, there was nothing more emotional, nothing more intense, than the terror of anxiety. I worked myself into a little frenzy. Something forbidden to think about, I mean before the age of eight. But I remember this.

Now, spakings cause no anxiety, and anxiety isn't a kick anymore but rather is a problem.

Before spakings, he rubbed massage oil on my feet, butt, and breasts. After spakings, I went down on him. Then we fucked, with him behind me, and I was so happy happy happy.

At night I was reading some One Life, Take Two about Jefferson dominating this woman named Rose that was both arousing and difficult for me--my complicated feelings about domination, feminism, gender, and where I fit--but for sure I was interested in getting into my husband's pants.

He initially brushed me off a little, which hurt my feelings a little, then changed his mind. "Can I spend some time with you?" he asked me. "If I tried to seduce you, do you think I would be successful?" as he led me to bed.

"You'll definitely be successful at trying to seduce me!" I said. We laughed, and the mild tension of our disagreement dispersed. Then he fucked my mouth, he jacked off on my tits, I masturbated, he fucked me with the blue vibrator. We got sleepy while we were cuddling and went to bed a little early.

the other

Here's the one I was saying either I don't get, or it's not working with my anatomy. We should try it again. It's sold at Early 2 Bed as Pam. These are their pictures.

the nap

Yesterday we were going to take a nap--that usually doesn't work out. We were lying in bed naked, and it's very warm here, so there was no blanket, and his balls tempted me.

I kissed them, kissed his dick, and sucked it soundly. I went down on him until he came in my mouth. I love the feeling. He's powerless. I take him there.

Then we washed up, and I got a turn with the blue vibrator, which I would recommend to anyone--it's a good size, good shape, good texture, and seems a little cheap--not the penis-part but the part where you put in the batteries--but functions fine. I like Early 2 Bed and have had no troubles with them.

Last night I dreamed I was making out with a woman--a tall, blond woman, which is unusual--someone I respected but who was kind of mean. I caressed her back and said I loved her, and she said, "I love you for the moment."

accident II

We were lying in bed, in the early evening, exhausted from work and the minutiae of life. I asked him to rub his dick all over my body. I specifically wanted it on my butt, my breasts, and my face. My face was the favorite, since I could smell it and kiss it when it passed over my lips.

Then I watched him jerk off, which was beautiful. He put on a condom and went behind me. I pushed back, and we fucked like mad. His dick felt like heaven, more real and good than ever. I felt that life is for sex, and everything else is stupid. I watched his shadow on the wall, diffused in the sunlight. We moaned and breathed together. I was at the edge of coming for what felt like an hour but didn't. When his cries escalated and he came in me, I felt so happy.

But then we realized something strange had happened with the condom. He took it off and saw that as opposed to our previous problem, when it slipped off, this condom had a hole in it, and the head had passed through the hole, so that his entire load had been delivered in the deepest of my cunt. What an error!

I went to the shower and washed. I told him I wanted to come, and then we could talk about it. We lay in bed, and I rubbed my clitoris while he fucked me with the blue vibrator. When I came, he rested his head on my belly. My entire back arched, and my legs flew widest apart. I cried out long, even cries.

And then we cuddled and talked. I was just finishing up a period. All the hormone troubles I've had seem to be ending, so maybe I'm fertile after all. I considered taking my Plan B pack, but then my period gave an encore, so I thought maybe the sperm would just get flushed out with the blood.

But today my period is over, and I researched Plan B and saw that it's really not so bad--I thought it was an ordeal that made people really sick, but it's actually not very harsh or difficult. So I took the first pill around one and will need to set the alarm and take the second at one in the morning.

Then I scheduled an appointment at the women's health clinic to get on a low-dose birth control pill because these accidents are ridiculous. I really can't be a mother, for many reasons, though he would make a gentle, caring, brilliant father, I'm sure.

away

We were away on a whirlwind trip for the weekend, and sex fell by the wayside. Exhaustion, dehydration, stress, and disorientation as well as time spent with my relatives, who get in my head.

Anyway, last night, we were good again. I went down on him, and there was very little variation to his response, which was constant, unwaveringly enthusiastic. Then I unfurled a condom on his dick and fucked him nicely. Which we had not done in the long time, me on top like that, because of our troubles with condoms, which I will not discuss right now.

I appreciated the results of having my tits in his face, and I repeated, "I got you," because I had the most wonderful feeling of possessing him, though I don't know if he understood what I meant. I also said, "I have you just where I want you."

So I kept him at the edge until I felt my muscles would go out, and then I made him come. He had the most intense look on his face, almost violent, which I enjoyed seeing--anything new is such a welcome surprise!

And then I masturbated while he fucked me with the blue vibrator, and I came in his arms, crying out louder than I wanted to. It was so good to be home again.