27 11 2008

I like driving.

I’m home again for Thanksgiving and not feeling so thankful. I love my friends. We’re cut from the same cloth. But I’m sewn up a different way.

I’m the girl I always though BFL was in high school.

Only more extreme.

I’m comfortable with my sexuality. I don’t mind being objectified by some. I don’t worry myself with what other people think of my sex life.  I think in a very unique way, a way I don’t beleive a lot of people think. Sometimes I don’t feel human. I feel like I’m outside looking in. Other times I’m all too vulnerable in this soft body of mine. And I feel like I’m under a microscope. I try to think logically rather than emotionally despite having very poor control over my emotions. I don’t think sex is dirty and wrong. I don’t think sex is special in the way I was taught to think of it.

Sex is sex. I like it. A lot. That’s all that matters.

I don’t need to explain why I choose to do what I do. I make my own choices. I lead the life I want to live. Religion and morals might say that I’m wrong. I say fuck them.

Vanilla is nice but boring. Biting and pulling and grabbing and spanking, leaving bruises and marks, making me sore; that’s not abnormal. It’s just a level of normal different from others. Ropes and whips and cuffs and vibrators and dildos and butt plugs and beads. Different levels of normal.

Is the sex wrong if it leaves me gasping at every thrust of his cock inside because I have a plug in my ass? Is sex right if I lay there motionless, not willing to experiment at all?

So I tell you now: Don’t judge me.

You’re my best friends but I don’t owe you one single explanation for my actions.

You ask me why? I can’t explain.

You tell me I shouldn’t be doing it? I don’t care.

You tell me you’re disappointed in me. That you’re hurt. That I basically lied to you. Even though you had already guessed.

I want to tell you that my sex life is not your buisness. I may discuss it openly at times, but that does not give you a say in it. Just like the politicians who try to tell me what I can and cannot do to my own body, you cannot tell me that what I’m doing is wrong.

I have a choice. And I made my choice. It’s not the smartest of choices. And yes, my emotions may come into play a bit too much. But I’m a big girl. I can hold my own in this big, scary world of ours. I may not have the extensive dating/relationship/men experience you both have, but I have a brain. And more experience in sex and sexuality than you could imagine. I don’t need you to tell me I’m wrong.

You don’t know him. You aren’t his friends. So don’t judge him. He’s an asshole. But I’m a bitch. So lay off. You don’t see us, you don’t understand. My friends that see us, while they may not nessicarily approve, they understand. You don’t. So don’t tell me what he is, because I know him better than I know a lot of people. And I sure as hell know him better than you.

I made my choice. I’ve flung myself out into the chaos of this world, just hoping I come back in one piece. If I don’t, I’ll just sew myself and begin again. That’s all life is anyways. Rip yourself open. Expose yourself, your insides. Sew yourself up. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Life.

I love driving. It let’s me think. And clear my head. Music so loud I shouldn’t be able to think. And maybe I don’t. Maybe I feel, rather than think. I let everything out, I let it seep through my pores to the open air. I bleed out the feelings. And I organize them. I make sense of them in the midst of thumping bass. With my eyes following the dark road ahead of me, I set everything out in order. With my hands cold on the wheel, I put them back inside, now making sense.

And this is what comes out. Acceptance.

Why X is a Terrible Person

24 11 2008

Z: For once I’m actually awake when you text me. Even though I don’t think I’m going to classes.

X: Go to classes.

Z:We’re not doing anything today, so why should I when I have a lot of laundry?

X: Go to classes or you don’t get laid before break.

Z: Omg. SO not fair to do that!!

X: Not true.

Z: ::pout:: I’m not going to classes. I checked and we’re not doing anything important today.

X: Well then…..no lovin.

Edit: As if he could really hold to that. He caved easily once he came over that evening.

Staying the Night

24 11 2008

I’ve spent the night over X’s twice this week.

Once because we were finishing our papers from hell and he was too tired to take me home. And again because we were up late snacking and shooting zombies in the greatest game ever: Left 4 Dead.

The best part about staying the night is the sex. We crawl into bed half naked; him because that’s how he sleeps and me because I’ve got nothing else to wear.

No matter how tired we are, we end up pressing and grinding against each other. My exhaustion turns into arousal because he’s on top of me and teasing me until I’m ready to beg. He slides inside me and we gasp and moan and kiss under the covers.

Once it’s over, it’s easy to just fall deeply asleep.

And it doesn’t hurt that the best thing ever is waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that someone warm is behind you, holding you.

Though…sometimes you wake up and realize that someone’s elbow is right next to your face. And that’s not the best thing ever. Particurally when you’ve been elbowed in the face before….

Sextoy.com: Cobalt Dutchess

23 11 2008

I’ve just recently answered an ad from sextoy.com to be a sex toy reviewer.

I’m obviously really excited about this. I mean, it’s every sex blogger’s dream to get free toys in exchange for updating the blog about said sex toy.

Cobalt Blue Dutchess

The first toy I got sent was the Don Wand Cobalt Blue Dutchess. I was first attracted to it because of the lovely color, a bright corn flower blue in the photo on the site. Sadly, when I received it, it turned out to be so dark blue it was black. Of course, I’m not complaining about this because it does turn a wonderful shade of deep indigo when held up to light. It just wasn’t the color advertised.

This is the first glass toy I’ve owned. And I’m glad I got it. I’m not the type of girl who can get away with a softer toy with a lot of give. My g-spot needs firm, hard pressure. And damn. This dildo does that. Because it’s glass there is no give whatsoever and you can press and grind it against you and inside you as hard as you need to.

When I first opened the toy, I was pleasantly surprised it came with it’s own padded little lavender bag. Considering the toy is glass, it made sense to include a bag that could be used to store the toy with others without the fear of it breaking.

The first thing I noticed when I got the toy out of the package was it’s weight. in terms of sex toys, it’s a pretty hefty one; like I-could-knock-someone-out-with-it kind of hefty. I liked that, it gave the toy more presence when I actually got down to using it.

The nice thing about glass dildos is that they don’t need much lubrication. They’re slick to begin with, so as long as you’re marginally turned on you shouldn’t have a real problem. One thing I was a bit iffy on were the bumps. There’s a row of bumps along the top side, and another two on either side of the head. When I was first inserting the toy, it was a little uncomfortable. But once things got going, I forgot they were there. I’m not sure if they added anything to the toy or not as I was far more focused on the pressure against my g-spot. With my vibrator on my clit, and the heavy head of the toy pressing against my g-spot I came in minutes.

Another thing I liked about the glass was that you can get it very cold or very warm, using the refrigerator or hot water, and it retains the temperature for a fair amount of time. That adds to the fun.

There was nothing wrong with the toy, and frankly it got me off really well. I liked the design, the weight and the look of the toy. Overall, I’d give this toy a rating of an 8 out of 10.


19 11 2008

Sometimes X makes me really upset.

Tonight, I was on edge about a lot of things. I’m worried about classes and grades. I have a 10 page research paper due on Thuesday, and a 4 page paper due at 9am on Friday. My step-grandma just passed away and I’m trying to hide how upset I am. I judged a debate tourny and now I miss being a part of that world, desperately. I’m stressed to the max and it’s 2am and he decides he needs to be right about something we’re talking about.

I did LD debate for almost 4 years. It’s a logical anaylsis of a resolution. You prove the topic right or wrong using values/philosophies, good arguementation and persuation. It’s not for everyone, and it does take a certain amount of skill and honestly, open-mindedness.

X thinks my debate is stupid. We shouldn’t debate on philosophy!! Only real world things!! Only real world things have any worth!! Philosophy doesn’t solve problems, how can you put any worth in philosophy. Real world!!

John Locke’s Second Treatise on Government was used to write our constitution. Marx’s Communist Manefesto has been used in various communist societies. Maslow’s Heirarchy of Needs is used in management theories in the US public sector. Philosophical ideas are reflected everywhere, they can be applied to so many things. But X firmly belives that they have no real world applications. And thus, LD, something I loved dearly in high school, the one things I have been INTENSLY passionate about he takes and basically throws down into the mud. While he holds his high and mightly idea of debate up above it all, like it’s perfect.

X is going to FAIL in politics if he continues to debate the way he does. Making people intentionally upset is a cheap way to win debates. And he’s even admited before that if he can throw the other person off and make them upset, then that’s a win. I feel like he enjoys getting me upset over things, and he likes seeing me on the verge of tears because he thinks he’s winning.

He can never admit he’s wrong and that’s a huge flaw. I just got out of his car and walked away because I was so upset with him tonight. Insulting LD and devaluing it without a clear understanding of it is incredibly offensive to me.

I was talking to him via AIM, and he said he had to go to bed and I said I had one last thing to say. He signed off. Didn’t give a shit. All I was going to say was that this debate was over. I was no longer going to discuss it. But he left because he’s a jackass.

And now I’m crying. And I won’t be able to sleep. Because I can’t go to sleep angry at someone. He broke my rule. I don’t think he knows about it. But he broke it. I don’t ever go to bad mad at someone. Because I can’t sleep. And now I’m mad. And I can’t sleep and I’m pissed off because even though I’m mad at him, I wish he was here to hug me. GAH.

Just kill me now.

Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.

17 11 2008

I don’t know if it’s an after effect of reading my blog or if it’s just random but X and I have been having tons of amazing sex as of late.

Thursday: I showed him my blog. And the rest is detailed here.

Friday: We were both leaving for the weekend but he came over for a few hours. We fooled around a lot. He left me insanely turned on and squirming in my seat the whole ride to the debate competition.

Saturday and Sunday during the day: We texted back and forth, mostly on Sunday, just talking about how horny we were. He apparently got off in the shower thinking about me that morning. I was flattered.

Sunday evening: X came over as soon as he got back in town. He all but jumped me as soon as we got to my room. He was a good boy toy and grabbed a pack of condoms on the way to my place so we could fool around with my toys. We put one on my dildo and worked it into my ass, and then he climbed on top of me and fucked me. I could barely talk. It’s not that it felt beyond amazing or orgasmic. It was just the combination of my ass and pussy both being filled at the same time that made me speechless. It got to be too much and we took the toy out of my ass, but we kept fucking. He made me squirt four or five times. I don’t honestly remember. Afterwards, X was surprisingly adventurous enough to let me fuck his ass with my toy. I rolled a condom onto it and lubed it up really well. He didn’t let me do it long, but he got half hard in the process. He said he liked it, but that he now understood that when I said I want something out of my ass, I want it out. It can get uncomfortable. Lol. It was fun though.

Monday: X IMed me that he didn’t feel like going to class. And so he came over. Lo and behold, he started teasing me almost as soon as he got here. We ended up having sex. Again.

And god, I am not complaining at all. It’s usually me that bugs him for sex. It’s really nice to have him pouncing on me, and kissing me, and groping me. I really like it. I hope it lasts.


15 11 2008

I have a hickey on my ear.

What the fuck.

I didn’t notice that my right earlobe had a reddish purple mark until I’d already judged a two day debate tournament. And speaking of debate, I’m exhausted.

I saw AWFUL people in debate until I judged the semi-final round. I also got offered a coaching job which I might take up. I miss debate so much.

I don’t even think I’m going out tonight. I’m gonna lay in bed and pass out. Too bad X isn’t around tonight, he makes a good pillow. Oh well.

Not a Mistake. At all.

14 11 2008

My heart was in my throat as I handed him my computer.

I was laying myself out on a table completely open and vulnerable, my heart and thoughts and feelings out there for him to examine. And I was hoping and hoping and hoping that I was right in trusting him with this. That this wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life. I was letting him see a very intimate side of me, and I was terrified he would run away or hate me for some of the things I’d said.

I couldn’t watch as he read the first page or so. I would put my head on his shoulder, see what he was reading, then turn over with my face in my hands, embarrassed. But it didn’t faze him. As he read he traced his fingers across my lower back, it calmed me down. He’d stop and kiss me every so often, and tell me not to worry. But I still did.

And I shouldn’t have. X isn’t the kind of guy to get weird about my blog. Frankly, it turned him on, more so than I thought it would. He put my computer away after reading a few pages. He told me he liked it. And to stop worrying. And that I was a good writer. And really good at writing about sex.

And then he kissed me. Hard. And I just relaxed inside because I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. I didn’t have to pretend this blog didn’t exist.

The next thing I know, I’m being pulled by my arms off my bed. And not gently. Forcefully. Pulled until my ass was on the floor and X was sitting in front of me on the bed. His cock was out and hard. Without warning he grabbed my head and forces my mouth onto him. I obliged. He fucked my mouth, not really caring that it left me panting and gagging and gasping for air. He took what he wanted and it fucking turned me on so much.

I don’t really remember how we ended up on the floor. I don’t remember how I came to be on my hands and knees. All I know is that he was pulling at my pants, biting at my back, and all of a sudden he was inside me and I couldn’t help but moan. He fucked me with abandon. Long, hard, forceful strokes that left me gasping. I didn’t want him to stop. I arched and gasped and pushed myself back against him, urging him to fuck me harder.

He stood up and grabbed my comforter off my bed and threw it on the floor. He laid down and told me to ride him. I didn’t hesitate. We were in the moment. Frantic and turned on and needing to be rough. I let him slide into me and he grabbed me, fucking me hard and making me squirm and moan. His arms were around me, holding my ass and forcing me up and down on his cock. The next thing I know I felt an orgasm coming. He didn’t stop fucking me. I gushed all over him. Not a lot. But enough.

He still didn’t stop. He just keep fucking me at that perfect angle that causes his cock to hit my g-spot just right. A few minutes later.  I felt it again. More intense. Right at the peak I pulled off of him and let go. I gasped as I squirted hard onto his stomach. That was the first time I had done that so hard since this summer. And yet again, he didn’t stop. He just grabbed me and started fucking me again. Mere minutes later I felt it again. And I squirted just as hard against his stomach as the first time. And he just keeps fucking me. And it happens again.

I rolled off him laughing. I couldn’t believe it. I was panting, and tired and felt amazing. But it was so funny to me that I’d suddenly figured out what made me squirt.

After that, we moved to the bed. And he fucked me hard. But I couldn’t take much more. I wanted more but for the first time, my body said no, it was finished. We ended things with him cumming on my tits, something I really like for some reason.

We laid on my bed for a while, recovering. X had to go commando when he got dressed again because he’d left his boxers on while we fucked and I’d left them completely soaked. He couldn’t stop smirking at me as we laid on the bed. I think he might have been just a little proud of himself. He got off me somewhere between 6-8 times. I honestly lost count. He told me at one point that I squirt like a pornstar. Which made me laugh. He told me it again this morning. And I just laughed again.

So yeah. Letting him read my blog = good idea. The sex last night was AMAZING. Though it’s an odd feeling to have him IMing me, bugging me about when I’m going to finish this post because he wants to read it. I think I can get used to that. It’s nice being able to share this with someone in my life.

Not a Mistake

14 11 2008

Well, I showed X the blog.

And I must say, it did not turn out badly at all. In fact, it was actually a good idea.

I’ll write up details later because I’m actually leaving to go out soon, but let’s just say that he really enjoyed my writings.

The best line of the night had to be him telling me I apparently ’squirt like a porn star.’ That really made me laugh. Hard.

But more details on that probably later tonight.

So there you go, this is evidence that all guys aren’t douches when it comes to sex blogs.

(and X, if you’re reading this, feel free to comment. it’d be funny.)


13 11 2008

I’m letting X read my blog tonight for the first time.

Honestly. I’m terrified.