Dear Davenstein,

Yesterday I asked about the whole search for ‘American Idol OCD’ and tonight I stumble across this gem.

You try to touch her remote during AI and she’s going to get all Stabby-McStabby on your ass! I didn’t know OCDers could get violent like that.

Did you see Adam Lambert’s get up at the Grammys? He looked like KFCs Colonel Saunders ass raped Elvis Presley resulting in him and then someone came along and peed on his suit. I was very confused with the whole look.  He tries too hard and it never works.

But the internet is buzzing with the news that you were sighted practicing the National Anthem for the Superbowl. Are you teaming up with your pal Carrie Underwood? She’s booked to sing the opening song. Or are you a last minute substitution? Numerous sighting reports are coming in. Mehh, whatever.

Boo and Hoo
I’ve been in pain lately. Over the past few months some pains I’ve had have worsened and that worries me some. This past week has been the worst. I know part of that is that because of everyone’s various vacation times, we aren’t entirely out of holiday mode and are still eating badly. That would account for frequency of pain. The other part of it, the part that should explain the intensity, remains unexplained. I already had an ultrasound a couple of months ago that showed nothing wrong. Of course, the technician was a complete idiot. I’ve had a billion ultrasounds and this was the shortest, least explorative ever. I also had a colonoscopy recently that like all before it revealed the gradually less surprising benign growths. So save for another ultrasounds, really the only option about figuring out the “whys” is exploratory surgery. Kinda hard to get on board that one just for pain. And I wouldn’t just for pain. A crop stroke hurts much worse. Of course, it’s not there day and night wearing you down. BUT I still wouldn’t be concerned just because I had some pain. What I *am* concerned about is what is causing the pain. Is it new scar tissue forming because of the bleeding? Is it something else? It’s the unknown that bugs me.
In less than a week though normal life will resume and I can finally get some stuff done and get ready for my 30^th birthday in less than 2 months. (&%$#!!!!) Hopefully some semblance of routine will help to calm down my nerves which have been jangling on an ever increasing intensity.

 Soooo in order to cheer myself up… I am going to go down the memory lane. It shall be amusing. And really, what is more comical and silly and nostalgic than everyone’s first time doing anything? Here’s a list of my firsts I could think of.

 My first kiss was superb. He was the boy next door, literally. He came up with some excuse to come over and we stood around my room very awkwardly until it was time for him to leave at which point I guess he finally screwed up the courage to come over and kiss me. I remember the rush of butterflies as he took those last couple of steps towards me and the “wooosh” of emotions and roaring blood. It was sweet and awkward and amazing. I was so pumped from it all that afterwards I went to my piano and played for an hour straight. And I never was that good! *laughing* I remember he had brought over some chapstick… and the awkward banter. I like that memory. It’s sweet. *s*

The first time I got finger fucked… not really memorable. The very first time which took a grand total of 15 seconds was pointless because I just wasn’t turned on and I was dry and I was young enough that I wasn’t even too sure what he was going for. The second time, (which I think should be mentioned since the first time was so brief and confusing!), was within the first actual relationship I was in and she (Lee) MAJORLY sucked at sex. *laughing* Like she was so incredibly bad at everything that two women might do with each other that after a couple of months of being with eat other I was still not sure we were actually having any kind of sex. The 3^rd person who got there was the first to actually finger fuck me in any satisfactory fashion. She was I think about 8 or 10 years older than me and very butch. Great fuck, not much personality. Let’s call her Nik.

First time I tried nipple torture was with Nik as well … she was really into it. She was actually the first person I dated who was into S/M in any serious way. Not as much as me still but a good match for me at that point since I was taking baby steps and tracing out my desires.  I was turned on by how turned on she was but really the person who made me grow neuron pathways between my nipples and cunt was Luke. Before him, I’d get chapped nipples and the high of pain but none of the “pinch my nipple and my clit will scream in sympathy” thing that Luke can manage.

The first time I got fucked (penetration in pussy with dildo/cock)… it was disappointing. This was with Lee and as I was JUST starting to enjoy it she stopped. I don’t think she could relate to the dil and on top of that didn’t know what really to do and didn’t even want to give it a try… yea we just weren’t a sexual match. She was a snail to my bunny.

The first time I got fucked in the ass… was honestly painful but not so bad that I didn’t see the potential. I had the same issues with it that most others describe. Aside from pain I wondered what if it made a mess and how yucky that would be but really there are a couple of choices there. Either you do a thorough enema before every single time you do it (which isn’t the healthiest thing ever) OR you put on a condom and some play sheets and deal with a bit of mess here and there. I mean, if you play with fire, you are gonna get burned sooner or later. AND you gotta know, your rectum is pretty clean most of the time. This is also one of those things that I liked before but I really started wanting it with Luke. Oh and as far as butt plugs go… I’ve always found them hot. Which brings up the next 2 firsts:

First time I got figged… was odd. It wasn’t a sensation I expected. I think we soaked the ginger too long though because somewhere we had read that you are supposed to soak it. I am not even sure where anymore. There was some burning but more than that it gave me a sort of “urging” sensation which isn’t what I was going for. But once more I saw the potential. The burning of freshly carved ginger is amazing. It’s a welcome sensation change from compact pain (because I won’t play with icy/hot or any other chemical heavy things on mucus membranes other options being natural cinnamon oil, peppermint oil, wintergreen oil, etc) and I like it more than other tingly things because it can be carved into a fun plug! I also love it on my clit. The burning is exquisite. Now I sometimes do it just for myself when I masturbate.

First time I was double penetrated… wasssss not with two different people. I think the very first time was getting fucked with a plug in my ass. If I am properly wet that is beyond good. We have a pretty large plug and getting fucked with it in place makes the experience so much more intense. I feel more “possessed”. Having a plug in, being gagged with Luke’s leather gag that has a mini-phallus AND getting fucked is even better. Just the sensation of being filled everywhere is… ooooh. With two people it’s a more tricky affair. I am still chasing that particular high if Luke comes around to it. Oh and if you have someone who knows what the hell they are doing, getting fingered in your ass and cunt together… so you are getting the same stroke rhythm… DIVINE! What I want to try next (aside from another guy to play with along with Luke) is maybe getting fucked with a harness so Luke can fuck me in both holes… yuh yuh…

The first time I got fisted… was a surprise. It was with Luke. The concept was too scary to me before that to try with anyone I didn’t fully trust. We hadn’t really started out saying that’s what we were doing. We were just having some great anniversary sex. He was 3 or 4 finger inside me and pounding and then he just tried another finger, and more lube and aside from a few moments when I felt I was being torn apart (pressure not pain), he was in! And then he curled his fingers into a fist (just sticking your hand in there doesn’t count you know, you actually have to make a fist for it to be fisting) and began fucking me and the sensation was… overwhelming. I remember reaching down and feeling his wrist buried in me. NOTHING makes you feel more thoroughly fucked than getting fisted. It’s like a piston moving inside you. The force is unimaginable. Gooood stuff.

The first time someone ate my pussy… was … nice? Certainly not terribly exciting. I’ve never been much for it. I’ve had lovers since that are pretty good at it but when all’s said and down… I’d still prefer getting fingered or fucked. A tongue is just… nice but not enough.

The first time I gave head… confusing and a little icky. But I think that’s true for most people. I mean first time you don’t know what is it you are really doing and here you are in this relatively awkward position. The tastes seemed odd and hygiene is SO important. I mean if you’ve been with someone for long like me and Luke, it actually adds to my pleasure to suck him off with the taste of sweat and piss on him. Someone I’ve know for 6 months… not so much. Wash people. Of course, I am sure you’ve noticed that now my attitude is more in the line of… oh for the love of all that is holy… fuck MY MOUTH.

First time I got spanked… was kinda awkward. She wasn’t really into it. A few swats that barely hurt. It took a few people until I got a decent spanking like I wanted. That first spanking was… surprising. I had always been turned on by the thought of a spanking but when it came to the real hard spanking all I could register through it was pain. It HURT. That’s all. It hurt. I felt a bit ridiculous with all 5’7” of me draped over a lap with my ass in the air. I did feel some of that desired childlike feeling. I didn’t really drop into the sub-space that both the mentality and the pain of a good spanking make me feel nowadays. (I was too busy analyzing it) But then it was over and I felt how very wet I was and how incredibly horny… Even now even a punishment spanking will get me wet. I still squirm when Luke calls me for a spanking and when the actual spanking/whipping is going on, all I can sense is the pain, but the bliss afterwards… well… may I have another sir?

First time I tried bondage…was fun but we did it WRONG. I was young and stupid and I didn’t even have the decency to start with something soft. It was a pain of metal cuffs that locked my hands together behind my back but THEN I essentially lied on top of my cuffed wrists through the sex part so when it was over, I had a tinsy bit of nerve damage… namely I had funny pins and needle feeling for a month. Thank god it passed. Bondage remains one of those things I am iffy about. Bondage, like I’ve said before, is choice being taken away. Complete transfer of control. You don’t even have the assurance in the back of your mind that you could get away if need be. There is nothing. You are there… at the top’s mercy… and that can still be scary for me. And like all things scary… it’s so exhilarating.

First time I got pissed on…was better than the second time cause by the second time I had had time to actually think about what I had done and ick myself out some. The second time I actually gagged a bit after the piss hit my tongue. Of course, I know myself enough to know it was a product of my own over thinking and I got over it very fast. The most fun thing about it for me is how enthralled and repulsed Luke is with the whole thing. He loves doing it but he is icked out at the idea of it and he can’t reconcile the two.

That’s enough firsts! This is making me feel ancient! Of course, I am a much better lay now so that counts for something! And there are a couple of firsts I still have on my todo list…. Oh and if you are wondering why I haven’t mentioned losing my “virginity”. Well… aside from the sectional virginity involved in all of the above… I lost my hymen to a ladder I was climbing up and down for play before I was even a teen. I fell down and a wrung hit me between the legs just so and bust went the hymen. I remember the blood then but I didn’t know I didn’t have a hymen until I just had deeper and deeper sex and no blood…
Luke would love me to have a hymen reconstruction so he can take my virginity but seriously paying a few grands for fake virginity AND going through the discomfort of the procedure… *laughing* not happening. I get it for women who need to do it for cultural reasons… but for kink sake… nah!

 And the best thing about your first time? It only happens once!

Welcome to the EXTREME Athletic Event of Watersports, the only sport where showering is part of the competition. And win or lose, you still get the gold. Golden Showers, that is. It’s the wettest game in town.

Harold is a frequent visitor but Harold never alters his play list. It’s the same old tune, session after session. This year, however, Harold made himself a resolution; a resolution to fulfill that ever popular but rarely achieved Wildest Dream.

Harold called and announced that today was the day–he was going to shower with the nectar of Goddesses. He wanted to bask in the golden warmth of a Domme Woman. He wanted to get pissed on by a hot chick.

I was happy to oblige.

You know what I am thinking? I am thinking: OK this was supposed to be one measly little post. How the heck did it blow up to a 3 part series?! “Concise” I ain’t.
Pardon the grump-puss routine.
We got some bad news today. Well I got some alarming sounding news after I woke up and before I was half way into the phone convo trying to assess the damage (which was really minimal), I got hit with the second actual bad news. All this before I was fully awake. I knew I should have stayed in bed today.
Monkey’s ass I say.
*sigh*
Oh well. What is one to do? Stuff happens. You gotta work around it. I don’t WANT to work around it. But I don’t really have a choice do I? No I don’t. I’ll figure it out. It could be worse.
BUT, it’s the weekend and I won’t face or deal with reality until Monday.
Now back to our normally scheduled programming…

 Luke is the star of most of my fantasies. (Some say unimaginatively so but *I* prefer thinking that I am infatuated!) I tell ya, this makes it hard to masturbate when I’m mad at him. I am serious! Call me crazy but when I am mad at him I don’t want to imagine him pulling my hair, tanning my hide and fucking my ass. *laughing* Yes I know how ridiculous that sounds.
I do imagine other “figures” when I fantasize but these characters are usually faceless and vague… you know, place holders. The only “celebrity” I’ve ever masturbated to is K.D. Lang. I’ve always wondered if she ever sings between her lover’s thighs. *drool*
Anyhow.
If I fall in love with a new fantasy I write it down erotica style and send it to Luke. I usually have 2 or 3 stories in progress going. I am pretty decent at short stories but longer stories require more attention than I am always willing to give… so I just write sections and string them together later. I write non-erotica too but not nearly as much.
Speaking of erotica, I love me some Patrick Califia. I wish he’d write more. He writes amazing erotica. Have you read his stuff? Queer bdsm erotica at it’s very best. Go read one of his books. As a matter of fact go buy one.
But I digress (I see you rolling your eyes!) Most of the time Luke just reads them as entertainment but once in a while, he decides to act on one. Of course he always changes them to suit his own taste which I actually like because while it has elements of my fantasy, I don’t quite know what will happen next. When we both get off on something, it’s just amazing.
BUT the thing about not dating your clone is that regardless of how similar minded you are about sex, you still don’t have an identical fantasy profile. So there has to be compromises. Of course, in a d/s relationship the scales tend to tip towards the top.
For example, I like playing with knives but I don’t necessarily get off on cutting my own damn self. He has to do it to me for it to be hot. He, however, doesn’t like it nearly as much as I do. I’ve already talked about how he feels about threesomes or group sex which is another one of my big turn ons.
And then comes the part about equipment. Sometimes, you just HAVE to have the right equipment. For example, I’d spontaneously orgasm from the mere idea of being locked in a cage and fucked through the bars. I tell you after we put together the big dog crate for our Dane, I was wet for a week. But we don’t have a human cage or really any space for one. Or complete sensory depravation… a decent blindfold and earphones with relatively loud music works pretty well but not as well as a decent hood designed for the job. But that’s way too expensive. Same goes for a good corset. I am not talking about the mass designed junk but a custom made one. Actually I think of being corseted as a cross between bondage and sensory deprivation.
The thing about sensory deprivation and bondage, although they are a heck of a lot less dramatic than being flogged or cut or set on fire… is that they have a deeper degree of mental submission. By that I mean, when I am enduring pain, I have something to do. I am in there, fighting and submitting to the pain. I am patting myself on the back for taking it with grace… or feeling giddy at how he’s reduced me to a puddle. But in sensory deprivation or prolonged bondage, I am not “doing” anything. Even if he is whipping me under bondage, I am not doing as much since I am pretty much stuck there at his mercy, All there is to know is he wants me this way and let what emotions may come wash over me.
It’s so very much more difficult than just submitting to pain. This is much more threatening to one’s identity. You have to, well, willingly give up personal metal/emotional space. Watch yourself become property, utterly controlled. That’s a hell of a lot more difficult and takes a much deeper brand of submission. (only in my opinion) And it’s not something one can do with any old top because it takes much more intricate set up and build up. (once more, I am just speaking for me) And even after I found the right top… it’s not something we can do every day. I come out of a mental submission session much more drained than any other scene, regardless of severity. But this is the domain of MY deep dark fantasies so I am not saying no more. A girl’s gotta have some secrets!
Now in interest of diversity, here are a few of Luke’s favourite fantasies:
-Being sucked off while he is working out – specifically for me to just show up mid workout and service him without a word – can you say narcissistic? *g
-Fucking and torturing me in front of and for an audience – what did I tell ya about the narcissism?
-Me in a wonder woman custom – (I don’t get this one, it’s apparently a guy thing… I can’t imagine wonder woman as a submissive anyway)
-Fisting, always with the fisting… if it’s not golden showers, it’s fisting… I might start needing bigger Kegel weights to keep tight… that or if I ever give birth, it’ll go very smoothly (just kidding, even I am not that delusional)
And finally, I’d like to share the single oddest fantasy I have heard of within consensual kink:
-Fantasy of being devoured… as in eaten… like… as in food. Also known as Vorarephilia.
It produces a problem for me… namely you aren’t around to enjoy it happening caused you’ve been… well slaughtered and stewed. Unless someone cuts off only a piece… but then you probably are in a bit much of physical agony to appreciate it… or maybe not…? Anyway. This would be the point my kink fuse would blow. Yes, I realize I am being a bit literal! That it could very well involve just the role playing for many and I don’t mean those cases… I mean the few cases who literally want to be dinner… you think the fantasy extends to how they are prepared? Like is there a, ooooh marinate me in a wine sauce type thing? And we in the kink community like to say we respect everyone’s kink. To each their own, right? Hard to be as understanding here though… even though nobody is getting hurt unwillingly.
But you gotta keep in mind… there are all shades of rainbow out there.

***Thank you for your attention. This ends this section of ramblings on the subject of fantasies. Please stay tuned for future silly-erotic compositions. Dirty Ingenue out***

Let’s discuss golden showers.

Y’all know what those are, right?  Just in case you don’t, go here:

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=golden+shower

We’re on the same page now?  Ok, movin’ on.

See, here’s the thing about my alter ego.

I’m mostly pulling from porn and reading to be able to pretend to have done a lot of the things she’s done.  However, there was an unpleasant moment early in my marriage where the charming sociopath thought this would be fun.  I can tell you quite definitively that it is in no way tasty or sexy.  *shudder.*

Right about now I’m glad my family doesn’t read this blog.

Ok, so when I get calls about golden showers, I am actually fully cognizant of what we’re talking about and it makes it a lot harder for me to pretend it’s in any way sexy to me.

My favorite of the golden showers callers was a nice man who didn’t want or need me to describe it in any kind of detail, but merely wanted to listen to me pee.

Repeatedly.

And wipe, why the hell not?

He really was a sweet guy, kept asking if I minded.  And no, not really.  It’s less unpleasant than the gagging thing, see this post for my feelings on gagging:

http://sexwars.wordpress.com/2009/12/31/subs-and-dungeons/

All he really wanted from me, aside from that, was descriptions of my fellow (fictional) strippers peeing in the dressing room bathroom of our club.  I can describe beautiful women in the bathroom–I have sisters, I lived in a dorm, c’mon–and it’s one of the easiest things in my day, actually.

Especially the hot redhead with a cleanliness fixation who won’t let her ass make contact with the seat.  Because of COURSE someone that fastidious would work as a stripper.  Sure.

***Thank you for tuning in to the second part of our series on fantasies. Enjoy!***

 Here’s something that I wish someone would have told me… you know maybe something that should be included in the “sex talk” because once you start going after your fantasies, you will learn (1) that living some fantasies are every bit as rewarding as you imagined BUT (2) some fantasies are NOwhere near exciting as you thought they’d be. As a matter of fact they turn out the opposite of arousing. And the sense of disappointment that comes after a failed fantasy is… well like having for the longest time imagined you would get a laptop for xmas but end up with tube socks.
For example, here are a couple of fantasies that sounded good in my head but turned out bleh.
-Sex in a club bathroom sounded nasty in a hot way but it turned out to be nasty in the… icky disgusting, must-shower-now way… so much so that I could not concentrate on the sex part. *shudder*
-Outdoor sex sounded exciting with the whole it’d be hot if someone discovered us (or as I like to call it passive aggressive exhibitionism)… it turned out uncomfy with twigs and pine needles stuck everywhere. Also bugs… I should have known about that one though cause I hate camping. Of course, in this particular case my dislike doesn’t count for much cause Luke really enjoyed it. I must admit though, he once paddled me at one of those “scenic view” perches in a park at night and that was exciting. I got wet enough from that not to notice the hard cold rock under my ass as he fucked me. So my suspicion is, some people who remember fondly certain sexual experiences that sound icky, might have been too turned on to note said icky conditions.
-I’ve already mentioned the climax-depravation that sounded wonderful but turned out pointless.
-A bevy of stuff I had read or heard about that sounded good but turned out to be over complicated and annoying (to me)
I guess the thing is to really know yourself and your kink. If you are not into dirt, think twice about fantasy sex that’ll get you dirty. Don’t get sucked into someone else’s fantasy. No matter how exciting they (and by they I mean friends, books, porn, your current partner etc) make it sound, it’s your genitals about to be exposed to this experience so take a moment to self examine. But despite what I am saying here kinda, don’t be afraid to experiment. Yes, the fantasy might suck majorly in reality but at least you’ll know what doesn’t work! And how else are you gonna accumulate funny sex stories?!
And the bonus of bravely trying out your kinks is experiencing fantasies that will lead to purely amazing, mind blowing experiences. I’ve had a bunch that become absolute favourites to revisit often. Some of the more elaborate ones that can’t be repeated as easily go back on my fantasy list as more “masturbatory aid” except now I have actual sensory memory of the events.
Among really fun fantasies are role playing ones. They can be so very fun. You are essentially using the same set of “toys” you have, you are just allowing your imagination to give them new color. It’s mental kink. It’s like your brain is wearing latex or a Victorian corset. It’s playing house and doctor and cops/robbers but this time all the little pseudo-sexual things you used to do have evolved to actual sex! What could be better? Of course, I assume you have to have a bit of a child inside you and willingness to play without being too self conscious.
Some of my favourite kinky role plays are,
- Little teenage runaway that’s picked up by not so kindly stranger. That little experience involved getting fingered and giving a blow job in the car in full view of anyone in a car of same height or higher.
-The cowboy from old wild west and the hooker… lots of rough sex, occasional rope bondage
-The new prisoner that gets fucked by other inmate/s or a warden – self explanatory
-The home invader/s who find a girl alone in the house and take advantage (a variation is being car napped or really any variation of rape scenes at gun/knife point with various bondage scenes)
-Student and teacher/boss and employee/etc
Of course attitude is very important. You have to be able to really get inside (and comfy) the character you want to be and you have to be lucky enough that your partner makes a good convincing opposite. Think back to when you were kids and how absorbed you got into whatever role you were playing. Props are not necessary but certainly helpful (and fun!).
Wait that’s not always true. Some people’s kink is the dress up in which case the props are very necessary!
Oh one more thing about role playing. Some people think that role playing falls outside “real bdsm”. Once you put “real” in front of anything, of course, you’ve entered elitist land and it’s hard to use logic there. But the best “argument” I’ve heard in this regard is within role playing, you are kinda cloaked by the characters you are playing which in turn means part of your self is shielded. For example, if you are doing a degradation scene, the bottom’s character and not his/her true self is getting humiliated which might make is easier to bear. That might be but I am guessing if a submissive needs to check out they will even if they aren’t in a “role”. Other than that, the crop hurts just as bad, a ginger plug burns just as hotly and being called a cheap dirty whore and a cum slut… well turns me on just as much anyway no matter “who” I am being.

 So one thing I’ve noted over the hormonal roller coaster I’ve had to endure, especially while I was going through the “treatment” section of my illness was that while most of the time the complete lack of sexual desire lead to no inclination towards fantasizing… sometimes my fantasies and imagination did break through the hormonal gloom. So even when I didn’t have too much (read none) desire for sex with anyone else, my body kept kick starting the engine in intervals to keep it lubricated. (Pun pun puuuun!)
I’ve also noticed that as I age, I have less varied fantasies. I am sure that is a split cause between the natural rigidity that comes with aging (you know getting all set in my ways) and the natural process of discretion that comes with becoming “experienced” in a field. My fantasies these days are a combination of old favourites, any new “threat” Luke comes up with or anything new I dream up but most often it’s a mix of old favourite elements and new situations. Like the newest thing we’ve been both fantasizing about (the kinks have not been worked out yet – hey more pun!) is for Luke to chain me up in the bathroom all day and piss on me every time he needs to and use my mouth to clean up and for blow jobs whenever he wants one. Getting pissed on and mouth fucked… old favourites, the daylong bondage in bathroom, however, is new. This one actually is Luke’s fantasy. *I* had been fantasizing about something similar for a long time. My fantasy involved him chaining me to his desk and using me throughout the day as he pleases. However since his office is a colossal mess, it’s not terribly doable. Water sports are a favourite of Luke’s so the fantasy isn’t much of a surprise to me. I think it might be one of his biggest turn ons. From my end, I’d be lying if I swore to love the taste and smell of his pee but the degradation and his excitement makes me dizzy with lust so I’d also be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. I already wrote a lengthy post on how much I like blowing him. Extensive bondage is something we’ve never done though. To begin with, we both have too much to do but that obviously isn’t it because we make time for other things we love. Then there is the fact that bondage is not a big thing with Luke. He likes it but it doesn’t drive him wild. The bigger issue is that I don’t really have a grip on how I might feel about prolonged bondage. This is one of those fantasies that sound incredibly hot but might not produce the desired effect in action. The specific appeal, like all acts of submission, is in giving up my choice, power and control. However, the mode in which it’s done might turn out to cause more negative emotions than positive. I realize in absolute submission my preference wouldn’t count but I am not a slave, just a girl with submissive tendencies so my preference does very much count! Plus if the conclusion of some act is me being pissed off, nobody walks away happy and that’s just not fun! What do I think might cause issues? I’d get bored out of my mind which would lead to impatience and then anger unless there is frequent attention given to me. On a good submissive day I could use these feelings to fall into a mental sub-space but it’s a fine balance. So we are probably going to start with an afternoon of this and probably figure out things I might do instead of sitting and staring at the wall. That way we’d give the idea a test drive and work the kinks out for longer sessions.
Another possible issue I can detect… will he still find the whole thing a turn on after I smell like a public urinal?
I’ll let y’all know!

 ***Thank you for your attention. This ends this section of ramblings on the subject of fantasies. Please stay tuned for the 3^rd and hopefully last section of this fascinating subject.
Dirty Ingenue, we write as if you care!***

Harvey Keitel re-teams with feminist director Jane Campion for another journey back to the land down under.

This time Keitel is the world’s best “cult deprogrammer” and his subject is a religiously confused Kate Winslet.

Holy Smoke is one of those art films that probably won’t appeal to the biggest of audiences because of its tone and harsh storyline.

Kate Winslet continues to grow as an actress with this risky and risqué venture. But it’s her spirit and screen presence which brought me in.

As her emotions and beliefs crossed with her parents, we began to actually see the two worlds at war for this young girl.

These were magical scenes which Campion did a wonderful job with. But as Campion delivers a generous telling of the story and makes it very compassionate and direct for us, we are shocked when Keitel’s man’s man drop his pants in a comfort scene. And you begin to wonder if this guy is a professional and if he should be looking after a vulnerable young woman.

Both in 1996’s Portrait of a Lady and in 1993’s Piano, we saw this destruction of a man. And Campion continues her escapade here as Keitel delivers quotes of morals but never really believes a word.

He self-destructs and delivers his own fiery flight into the flesh of an innocent woman. What made me really cringe was the running time on Keitel’s destruction. Campion would never let up and this reminded me a lot of the Piano as well. Is Campion saying that women destroy men or that men destroy themselves with sex?

Another begging question is why did a fully nude Winslet have to deliver a “golden shower” before they could embrace and seal his eminent fate? Is this a symbolism of a lost vulnerability and innocence?

A cross-dressing Keitel screams after a shoeless Winslet as they stumble through the Australian outback this results in his final undoing and her final deliverance from him. A lot of clouded symbolism and half truths had me scratching my head. Or maybe “Holy Smoke” just isn’t for everyone.

2.5 out of 5

So Says the Soothsayer.

Written: March 18, 1999

I’m gonna go to San Francisco tomorrow, Tuesday 12/22.  I don’t have enough money for gas.  I have a few gallons of water.  I’ll drink them, then I’ll have to piss.  I’m taking the 101.  Are you a thirsty toilet boy on my way?  Call me / text me.  I’ll pull over and take a piss.

Widow Centauri

619.884.2376

This post is not safe for work. The fact that it also involves the Obama administration’s “safe schools czar,” Kevin Jennings, means that Mr. Jennings must go.

It’s sort of old news now. Jennings was the keynote speaker at a Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) conference for high schoolers as young as 14 years old. During that conference, kids learned about fisting and golden showers (feel free to look them up, but if you don’t know, I ain’t tellin’ ya). They learned where they could find the most happenin’ gay bars (mind you, none of them could legally get in). And they learned how to avoid all the mess that could result from having sex in a public park.

The leftists at Media Matters think this is a non-scandal. Gateway Pundit (along with many, many others) disagrees and promises that there is even more to come.

There doesn’t need to be more. Jennings should be fired and he should be fired right now. There should be no need for pending legislation that calls on President Obama to fire Mr. Jennings; he should have done it as soon as this scandal broke. The fact that he has not tells you more about what he thinks is appropriate “sex education” and what he really thinks about “safe schools” than anything he has said or will say.

But there is an even bigger point to be made here. Yes, Jennings should be fired — but he should never have been hired to begin with. The proliferation of unconfirmed and unaccountable czars has to stop. This is why the Senate is supposed to give its “advice and consent” to presidential appointments. Had Jennings faced a confirmation hearing and had this been revealed during the hearing (it would have), does anyone seriously think the Senate would have confirmed him?

I commend Republican Texas Rep. Michael Burgess for introducing H. Res. 966 to pressure the president to fire Mr. Jennings, and Congress should pass the resolution without delay. But we need more than a non-binding resolution that attacks a symptom rather than curing the disease. We need legislation that will end the bureaucratic nightmare of unconfirmed czars.

Apparently back in 2000 the Obama safe schools Czar was busying telling your children how to engage in exotic sexual practices such as fisting and golden showers.

Fisting and Golden showers

Still Sexy After all these Years

Twin bed pans overlooking the Septic Tank

Is Sarah Palin Qualified to Squeeze the Cheese?

Traveling Naked

Tattooed Breasts

The Biggest Breasts in the World

Photos of  Porn Stars

Sexy See Thru top

Nipple Piercing

Barely There Bikini Contest

Avoid a fat head

It is better to be drunk than wasted

How to Travel Naked

Beer Alert

A Constellation of Idiots

It is Better to be Drunk than Wasted

Texas Toast

Going GaGa!

GooGoo GaGa

Oct 31 is dress up like Lady GaGa day. Halloween is canceled!

Happy GaGaWeen!

Burned Tranny

Online Job Search

Government Work

Job Search

Job Search for the Older Worker

Dressed as Lady Gaga

Monster Ball

Ultimate Costumer

Becoming Gaga

Gagging on Gaga

Sexy

Which witch to twitch?

Prepare to go Gaga

A Hottie does GaGaWeen right

I want to show you a peek into  some of my client’s issues from sexual fears to fetishes. In all of the cases, the names and peripheral details were changed to protect the privacy of the clients to ensure their anonymity.

How it all started

It was my destiny to become a sexologist. I was raised by nuns who drilled negative messages about sex into my mind, so I grew up feeling shameful about my body and guilty about sex. After continuous unhealthy relationships, I stopped dating to find out as much as I could about love and sex so that I could find myself a healthy relationship. Then I realized this was my life’s mission to dedicate my life to helping others overcome guilt and shame.  Now I’m thankful to the nuns because I am happily married and sex has become my favorite habit!

Who goes to a sexologist

I counsel singles, couples, even triads with concerns that range from lack of communication to lack of desire, fear of having sex to fear of commitment, premature ejaculation to inability to orgasm. It’s all in a days’ work and a very fulfilling one I might add.

What I love about being a sexologist

What I love about my profession is being able to save people’s relationships, what is most challenging is that I can’t help everyone, especially when clients say they want help, but they won’t do anything to change their destructive behavior, like the movie star client well known for his sexual compulsion who hit on me, I told him that I couldn’t see him anymore and referred him to a male sex therapist.

Couples who seek help

It’s usually the woman who convinces her man to go for counseling because men don’t want to admit when something isn’t working properly. This one young couple came to see me right after their honeymoon. Aliza and Simon waited to have sexual intercourse until after they were married, but the problem was when they did try to do it on their wedding night, it didn’t fit. That’s right, his penis did not fit into her vagina because he was too big and they were devastated. In my office I pulled out a half a dozen dildos of different sizes in length and girth and asked Simon to show me how big he was. He pointed to a 7” dildo with a wide girth that barely fit in one hand and looked apologetic.  “Was he crazy?” I thought, most women would give anything for a package that size, but I turned my attention to the Aliza and told her she had nothing to worry about. After all if a baby could pop out of her vagina, then Simon’s penis could certainly get inside.  I sent them home with various lubricants and a range of dildos from small, medium to large so that she and her vagina could get used to them.

What you get for your money

I charge $300 an hour so most clients will confess their problem to me right away to get their monies worth. They get plenty of take-home value including complimentary workbooks and appropriate products. I don’t believe in long term counseling so it’s rare that I see a client more than 6 times.

Where I get my clients

Most of my clients hear about me from their doctors, nurses, publicists and referral sites because I am able to help my clients 90% of the time with practical solutions that I have developed.

Even supermodels have sex issues

Karen was surprised at how quickly she was able to have an orgasm for the first time with a man after coming to see me for one session. A stunning swimsuit model had a hard time loving herself, especially her vagina which she was convinced was ugly and smelly. It did not take long to discover that Karen had never explored the inside of her body.  I explained most women are unaware that by having these inhibitions it can actually prevent them from relaxing enough to reach an orgasm. After a female anatomy and empowerment session, I told Karen to go home and explore her own body inside and out, then perform the taste and smell test on herself. I gave her a vibrator to use for masturbation so the next time she is with her partner, she can surrender herself to the pleasure and take full responsibility for her own orgasm. Karen sent me flowers with a note that said, Thanks for the Big O, you are my Hero!

Occupational hazards

Some clients are confused between a Sexologist and a Sex Surrogate so when they come in for a session, they expect to have sex with me. I let them know that there is no nudity or sexual touching in my office.  Most clients respond apologetically, but one body-builder client had the balls to ask, “Can I just masturbate in front of you then?” I could hardly keep a straight face before I said in my most stern voice, “No, absolutely not.” Then he settled down and confessed that he was afraid his erections did not last long enough.  I asked how long he lasted and to my surprise, he said about a half hour.  A ton of young male patients come in because they want to stay erect longer without taking Viagra, Levitra or Cialis. I teach them some penis exercises (to do at home) to help them with their sexual endurance, but only after I reveal that most women don’t want or need penetration for a half an hour.

Kinky fantasies

I can’t say that I’ve ever been shocked, but I have heard some unusual confessions from clients such as Lance, a 23 year old computer geek who was in love with his dog (people who have sex with animals are called zoophiles); who came to see me with his mixed breed mutt Max because he just wanted me to give him permission.  He was an anti-social guy who had no desire to be with a woman or a man and Max gave him unconditional love. How could I possibly disappoint him?

Another client who wanted permission to fulfill his fantasies was a 26 year old Hollywood Rock Star wannabe called Rob who loved kissing, sniffing, licking, and caressing women’s feet. Foot fetish is such a big fad that its slang term is “Shrimping” because naked toes can look like shrimp, if you use your imagination!

Cross Dressing is a popular fetish especially in Hollywood and I have several male clients who get sexually aroused by wearing women’s lingerie, but they are still completely heterosexual.

Diaper Fetish is less common, so when Sam, the burly Body Guard came to see me to find out if he was normal pretending to be a diaper wearing infant with his girlfriend acting as his caregiver, I simply responded, “If you are both agreeable to the fantasy, having a good time and nobody is getting hurt, then it is normal for the two or you.” He left with a big smile on his face and I felt good liberating him to enjoy his sexual preferences with someone who shared them.

Kinky fantasies are often associated more with men than women, but women feel comfortable around me and have confessed their deepest darkest confessions including Emma, President of a Forbes 500 company who was into BDSM (an all encompassing acronym for sexual power play). She liked to be punished and being tied in a corner was a physical punishment that also left her feeling psychologically punished (rejected, abandoned, and isolated). Her problem was finding men who could handle her kind of sex without being judgmental towards her. I encouraged her to explore her sexual boundaries so that she would be able to communicate her limits to partners. Then I suggested she join a BDSM Club where she could meet like-minded people.

Some women seek help because they are afraid of the fantasies their partners want them to indulge in such as 33 year old Marci who dragged her boyfriend Phil to see me.  She was so nervous that you would never have guessed she was an Acting Coach. She couldn’t even say what she was thinking so Phil, her trainer and lover blurted out, “I like Golden Showers.” (That’s sexual arousal by urinating on their partner). “She wants to know if it’s unhealthy or dangerous?” he asked. I assured her that with proper precaution, these golden showers were fair game. I suggested performing them while in the shower or tub because it is less messy and provides an opportunity to scrub your partner down in return afterwards. However, it is important to note that urine is a carrier of STD’s so they needed to ensure they did not have any gashes or cuts on their body and should consider being tested for such diseases. Marci looked relieved and Phil looked delighted as they left. “That’s the best $300.00 I’ve spent” he exclaimed as he slapped a check in my hand.

Since sex is our second basic instinct after survival, it can have a great impact on our lives even when we least expect it. I remember a woman who came to see me because she had an orgasm every time she smelled cinnamon. Sarah, a TV producer in her mid thirties discovered under one of my hypnosis sessions that she had a traumatic sexual experience in a bakery when she was a young teen, which was why cinnamon triggered her orgasms.  Through more hypnosis she was able to resist the aroma of cinnamon and control her orgasms so that she could have them at a more appropriate and suitable time. This created closure for Sarah who had involuntary orgasms for the past 20 years and had no idea what had caused them.

Happy Endings

A recent happy ending was when Emily, a woman age 37, married for three years suffering from vaginal pain during intercourse came to see me. She had been examined by her gynecologist who found no physical evidence such as vaginitis, Vaginismus, vaginal agenesis or cysts to support her pain. His diagnosis was that Emily’s pain was psychological.

I suggested that Emily bring her husband, Ryan to the session because I find it helpful to observe the verbal interaction and body language of couples I am counseling. Besides, her problem did affect their relationship and he should be part of the solution process.

I discovered that they had a mismatched sex drive and that Emily felt like she was under constant pressure to have sex. Eventually, she just clamped up and so did her vaginal muscles as a form of defense.

In my office, I encouraged Emily and Ryan to do some Sensate Focus (Non-sexual exercises for couples which encourage each partner to take turns paying increased attention to their own senses) on each other’s hands and face Emily was able to experience receiving touch without any sexual agenda. For their homework, I gave them eye-gazing, synchronized breathing and non-sexual massage exercises that would create deeper intimacy without focusing on the goal of intercourse or orgasm. It was up to Emily to let Ryan know when she was ready to have intercourse.

A week later, Emily called to let me know that they were experiencing a deeper heart connection and to her delight, Ryan was being more romantic. During sexual intercourse, she did not experience the kind of pain she had before. On a scale of 1 to 10, her discomfort level was now between a 1 and a 2 instead of an 8 or higher. She ended the call by thanking me for saving her marriage.

Its calls like these that make me feel validated and grateful that I have found my life’s mission, being a sexologist.

We Talk Sex with Dr Ava Cadell – Celebrity Sexpert Dr Ava answers questions about love, relationships, intimacy and sex. Today’s “Hot Topic” is Sexual Taboos. Her celebrity guest is Bai Ling – actress and singer. This show is not appropriate for under age listeners.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/sexdrive/2009/08/28/sex-drive-radio–hot-topic–sexual-taboos–with-dr

Click the link above to learn about Sexual Taboos — and to hear Dr Ava’s interview with actress and singer Bai Ling.

To learn more about Sexual Taboos -

View a video preview of the Sexual Taboos course – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHS7DDFly48

This is a link to the Sexual Taboos course from Dr Ava and Loveology University

https://www.loveologyuniversity.com/ShortCourseDetails.aspx?CourseID=48

This Course Is For You If:

* You want to Spice Up Your Sex Life by Introducing some Sexual Taboos into Your Relationship

* You want to Discover Which Sexual Taboos Turn You on the Most

* You want to Live Dangerously by Having Sex in Public Places, S & M or Having Multiple Partners

* You want to Know Your Sexual Boundaries

Welcome to Loveology Universitys Sexual Taboos Certification Course. Inside you will learn exactly what a sexual taboo is and what it is not. There are dozens of statistics which show the occurrence of these taboos in our society, and who is doing them! You will also discover the nature and origin of sexual taboos. This course is filled with information on the most popular types of sexual taboos such as, golden showers, foot fetish and cross dressing. Youll find out how to engage in these taboos safely while having fun at the same time. There are techniques and games for those seeking to enhance their sexual relationships, or for those looking to experiment and expand their sexual horizon. And lastly, you will be introduced to uncommon, yet not unheard of sexual taboos such as paraphilic, infantilism and zoophiles in our society. So, if youve always wanted to have taboo sex, heres your chance!

As I sit here incubating the viral family vacationing within me, I thought I’d redirect my thoughts from my various sick related aches and pains to a more “pleasant” category of pain.
Being in a Daddy/girl dynamic, I end up with a lot of spankings. Paddle, crop, bondage belt, prison strap, leather slapper… and I am sure I am missing implements here but really the only tool Daddy has in his arsenal of bdsm that he doesn’t use on his little girl is the braided flogger. That is way too heavy an implement to use within our Daddy/girl relationship.
But aside from the tools of trade which can’t be left around because of visiting family and friends, I have arranged for a “pervertible” in each room of the house. A pervertible, for those of you unfamiliar with the terminology, is an innocent looking household object that can be used in bdsm and kink. Examples are clothesline for bondage, clothespin for nipple clamps and a hair brush for spanking. Since these items look like they genuinely belong in the house, the vanilla observer will be none the wiser of the objects sinister purpose. So we have a hair brush in the bedroom, a wooden spatula in the kitchen, a ruler in the office, etc. These objects are only used for spankings but they look completely common place in their respective rooms so they can be left out. Having these things laying around the house allows for easy access when Daddy feels I need immediate correction for something. Also they are a constant and present reminder of the fact that I am his little girl. Finally, when company is over, these things become occasion for much blushing on my behalf. He can glance at these things and back at me, give me that certain grin and I need a change of panties.
The “down” side of these things, however, is the same as their advantage and that’s easy access… our kitchen is on the front of the house facing the street and the living room and bedroom face a park in the back of the house. So if it’s dark outside and lit inside and the curtains are open… everyone out there can see anything that goes on here. Now you think Daddy cares about that when he thinks I am due a spanking? Nooooo. Just the other day, I was in the kitchen and I don’t remember what I exactly had done to deserve a spanking but I think it was probably me being a smartass (common occurrence I might add *g*) because Daddy had me immediately bent over the kitchen table and had given me a couple of hard smacks. I do remember, a couple of smacks did not knock the smart out of my ass because 5 minutes later, I was still being a smartass so noting that my butt needed a bit more attention, he grabbed the spanking spatula, pushed  me firmly down on the table again and for good measure, yanked down my shorts and panties. Of course, just as he started walking towards me, my eyes went wide with realization of the impending full bare bottom spanking in full view of the window when it had just gotten dark outside which is generally dog walking hour… and I began to whine because a couple smacks may go unnoticed or be chalked up to being silly but this…
“Daddy please? Please not here! What if someone sees?”
“What if?” he dismissed it just like that.
That’s the stuff of mortification I tells ya. Midway through the spanking though, just as he had me bouncing in place and when the pain had build up enough for me to forget my potential audience, he chuckles and goes, “Oh and here are the neighbors.” all nonchalant. (in fact the neighbor across the way had come out, if they saw something or not… I am going to tell myself no)
And you see, we’ve had neighbors comment on seeing this or that pot or cake in our kitchen which proves both that we have nosy neighbors AND the extent of visibility out of the windows.
Soooo, between running in the house naked except for being wrapped in pee-dripping car blankets, getting thoroughly spanked in front of every window, moaning with a cock in some orifice in the garage AND the backyard, all of them repeatedly…. well we’ve been in this neighborhood for only a year but I think we might have to move soon!

Actually, the idea of being watched while I am being punished by Daddy or when I service him or when he is using me turns me on beyond reason… if it wasn’t by my neighbors. I do run into these people every day and most of them are my parents’ age. It’s just awkward! Anyway, I’ll write more later on my voyeurism, exhibitionism and believe it or not, I’ve already earned myself a pretty severe spanking to look forward to as soon as I am healthy enough to receive it. Right now my poor body needs the respite of sleep. Gah.

… also known as Chloe’s upper respiratory tract.
I am with flu.
No it’s not H1N1. God, enough of this pharmaceutical panic propaganda.
My upper respiratory tract feels both raw and dry which means it tickles which in turn causes cough that makes me think it’s moving mucus but it’s really not, it’s only inching it up so now I have to cough some more because I can’t tolerate that feeling and then my chest feels more raw. I am also oozing both thick sticky mucus and runny watery kind (sexy). My head hurts so bad that at it’s worst I can’t move my head or even my eyeballs, also my intestines hurt because as luck would have it I got my period which means my endio is bleeding inside somewhere AND both hurt worse when I cough of course. My joints hurt but better than that my very skin hurts. Typing hurts for god’s sake. I do have a fever but since varioation is the spice of life, I also have chills and weird outbreaks of sweat.
Pleasant.
Why am I sick you may ask?
Because of sex of course. It was a bit stupid of me (or a lot) I’ll admit because I’ve been feeling this flu develop slowly over the week so I should have known to take it easy… but (yes another but) I was horny all day Friday (while I was at a lecture) and so was he so we’d been messaging back and forth (instead of me paying attention to the lecture) about how badly I wanted to suck him off and him telling me all the things he wanted to do to me. 
Sooooo, he picked me up at the end of lecture and on our way home pulled into a park, parked the car, told me to lay my seat down, pulled down my pants and underwear, fingered me and then produced a plug and some lube. In a second, I was flipped about and after a couple of solid smacks to my ass a plug was firmly inserted making me unbelievably horny. Then up went the pants and the seat and we were on our way to run a couple of errands before going home. Every time he breaked or accelerated, I could feel the plug rock in my ass. You can imagine how I enjoyed getting in and out of car and walking around. When we finally got to the house and pulled into the garage I striped off my clothes while still in the garage (as per his instruction but still in 48 F or 9 C weather), he opened the back of the SUV, layed me down there and finger fucked me to an amazing orgasm. Nothing better than being filled in my cunt and my ass. Then he leaned against the back of the car, I went down on my knees (he had thought of putting aside a nice cushion for my knees cause last time we did this, my legs felt like they were locked in place) and sucked him off. I just hope no one was walking their dog because the way I was moaning… well I sounded like a bitch in heat. And then he told me to hold still as he pissed in my mouth, had me clean him off, then pissed on my breasts, back I went to sucking his dick and he told me to hold my legs together so he could create a pool of piss between them. I am not sure how long we were out there but I was very cold from cooling piss and dropping temperatures when we were finally done and came in for a shower. Of course, I wasn’t about to put my nice clothes back on so I just put on the piss soaked car blanked around me and ran in. Also hope no one caught that.
So flu? Not so much of a surprise.
Of course, a little sickness (ha ha, little… yea) wouldn’t get me down but then we had a fight on Saturday because Saturdays are the end of his hormone cycle which on some weeks means he has the male version of PMS. We are on a weekly testosterone schedule now which means I give him his injections every Saturday and so on that day he has the lowest levels of testosterone before the injection. We picked the weekly schedule to avoid the larger hormone fluxes and mood swings but apparently they can still happen and did. Of course, I could have even tolerated that but I was sick and I would have liked a little consideration (forget pampering) instead of having to deal with mood swings. So meh. Now sick and grumpy.

and you know what that means – it means I’ll be taking a break from the gettin’ real stuff to bring you a story of friends, cheerleaders and “running” late, as told to me by Miriam; because today, folks, is  TMI Thursday — live the horror, share the shame.

 See Lilu’s awesomely funny blog for more information on TMIT!

Today, I bring you Miriam.  Miriam was a cheerleader in her freshman year of college.  In fact, she was a Texas cheerleader.  She did not, however, have big Texas cheerleader hair, so I’m not sure how she actually got on the squad.  But on the squad she was.  And cheer, she did.  No matter what. 

She was dedicated that Miriam!  But one thing she was not was punctual.  You knew she’d get there, but you could never be quite sure when she’d get there. 

So this one particular day, Miriam was running late for practice, as per usual.  But she was determined to put herself into high gear and make up for her lost time and get there on time.  Nothing was going to stop her from getting there – not traffic, not homework, not even the fact that she had to pee like a stallion on Flomax would keep her from getting there ON TIME this day.

She made it – in full uniform and everything, without a minute to spare.  They started the practice the usual way, with some stretches and drills, and then started on partner stunts.  Miriam was a tiny little thing, so she always got to be a “flyer.”  If you’re not familiar with cheerleading, the flyer is the girl that they toss around in the air like she’s a hacky sack and somehow she comes out unscathed and smiling, no worse for the wear. 

So they started out with a fairly easy trick: an elevator.  Three girls serve as the base, and Miriam, since she was a flyer, would be on top.  Kind of like this:

So there Miriam stands, hoisted in the air, when one of the cheerleaders below said something funny.  Maybe it was about Miriam’s underwear thingies, maybe it was about her usual tardiness, or maybe it wasn’t about Miriam at all.  But the bottom line was that Miriam was amused.  So she laughed.  And when she started to laugh, she was reminded of all that she’d skipped to get to practice on time, such as a visit to the ladies room. 

Now I know you all already see this coming, but unfortunately, Miriam didn’t.  Nor did the girls serving as her base.  That’s right – Miriam peed.  It wasn’t a full-on horrible rush of urine…just a little…trickle.  Right down her left leg, and on to the holder of her left leg below.

At this point, Miriam was left with a choice – stay, and continue peeing on this girl, or excuse herself to the ladies room.  Miriam chose option B, dropped backwards to the mat, and ran to the ladies room.  She peed, cleaned herself up, and then walked out of the gym, never to look back, thus ending her cheerleading career.  She even dry-cleaned her uniform and SHIPPED it to the coach, so as not to see her face, nor any of the faces of the cheerleaders.  But with leaving her cheerleading dreams behind, she hopefully also left behind the humiliation of giving one of her teammates a non-consensual golden shower. 

Thus ends the story of Miriam the Cheerleader, and begins her new life as Miriam the party girl.  I mean, if you’re going to have a bad reputation anyway, it might as well be for the right reasons!

Hey kittens
Sorry I haven’t hit you up with a new post in a while…I’ve found myself what is known in the business as a “boyfriend”…or in the sex blogging business as a blogger ruiner. While I could blog on for hours about how well equipped he is at giving me the business, sadly there is nothing tragic or funny about it…so…that being said I’m gonna tell you a little story.
You see loves, there was this one time in college. I haven’t told this story to many people but i feel like…its time. You see, well….
I got peed on once.
Wait…wait kittens..before you run away. No, miss blossom is not into water sports. Super swear. This was perhaps one of the most unfortunately hilarious situations I have ever found myself in, ever.
There was once a sex and the city episode about a “Mr. Pussy”. A gentleman who is known for his philandering, and in particular, his oral skills. Well where I went to school there was indeed a Mr. Pussy and he was just as good as can be. He was hot, and weird, and quirky and he and I had what can only be described as a torrid affair.
One night he and I were at a party, and he asked to stay at my apartment for the night (a feat he does not do), in return for a ride to my job in the morning where I worked at a local retail outlet at the mall. Anyway, i said ofcourse, knowing that this venture would lead to orgasms abound.

And it did…oh kittens, the orgasms. Served up on a silver platter they were, with ribbons and rainbows and oh, it was wonderful. Anyway, as I head to sleep, I leave Mr Pussy awake, sitting at my computer drinking a beer or two out of a 30 rack of beer, smoking a ciggarette. I drift off to a lovely sleep. I wake up, 5 hours later, and he is still up, now almost half way through the 30 rack, still smoking, but now drunk as fuck.

“Dude, come to bed. You’re driving me to work in 3 hours”
“lknfoprengpoun” (He was real drunk)

Anyway, so he crawls into bed with me and passes out. Two hours later I am in a dream about waterfalls when I realize something horrible…I’m being peed on. I’m being peed on in a big bad way. This dude is passed out pissing all over me, my bed, and my cute nightgown. I scream and run the fuck out of there to the shower where I viciously scrub myself, in tears, kind of like in that cabin fever movie where her skin slowly peels off and shes in the shower sobbing…anyway..

I scream, poke, prod..dude isn’t waking up. No ride to work and there’s pee on my bed. I go into his pants, remove 50 dollars, and call a cab to get to work. I tried to erase this from my mind until I arrive back at my apartment and dude…hes STILL THERE. The only difference is now he is on my floor wrapped in a towel, passed out. I kick him..hard. He wakes up and I tell him to get the fuck out.

He mumbles something about nice to see me and he leaves, abruptly.
I saw him around a lot after that, when he was out with his horsey faced girlfriend, and I often felt like telling him what he had done, or her for that matter, but I didn’t..and instead it becomes just a tale for my blog 5 years later. Not quite the revenge I would have liked but as a very wise woman said “Resentment is like drinking a poison and then waiting for the other person to die”

Love y’all

Blossom

I am back in San Diego for a bit. When I first got here I started sizing up the public toilets as I love to piss on boys in public bathrooms.  I was lucky enough to find one that has a two-way mirror wall.  Yep, I know where there is a bathroom that has a wall of glass you can see out of but people on the other side cannot see in.  It is trippy, and very very hot.

I really hope that there is someone out there who wants to do something sexy in this bathroom with me.  I’m getting antsy.  The grey days we are having are lovely.  I want to play.  This town makes me crazy.  I am in a mood to do something dirty!

This bathroom has been an active part of my fantasies for a year now.  I have not had a chance to play in it.  I expect that the business will eventually close its doors.  I really want to piss on someone in this bathroom before I leave town, before the place goes out of business, before I can’t.  You know?

Now let me give you a better image of what I am talking about here.  There is a bathroom in central San Diego that is in a very high traffic business.  People coming and going.  Lots of people. The toilet is right in the middle of the establishment.  One of the walls is a mirror on the outside and a transparent piece of glass on the inside of the bathroom.

Sometimes I go in there just to masturbate.  I have never had a chance to piss on a boy in there.  I very much want to do this.  I woke up thinking about this.  I jerked off and thought I would suggest a public pissing in this toilet to you.  It will be the sexiest golden shower you ever have.  I am drinking a gallon of water right now, waiting for you to call me.

Also …

I have this giant thing of cheese sauce taking up a huge amount of real estate in my refrigerator.  I have a hard time wasting food.  I don’t want to just toss it, nor would I even know the best way to do that.  I got stuck bring it home from a family party.  I’m not gonna eat it.  I have moral issues with throwing it out.  It won’t flush easily.  If I put it in the garbage it will ooze and make a big ass mess.  What I want to do with it, every time I open the fridge in fact, is take it to the beach, and have a splosh session with it.

It is a huge thing of cheese sauce.  It is spicy.  I want to rub it in your face with my feet.  I want to cover your dick with it.  I would very much like to throw a wad of it at you, get it in your hair, make a big ass mess.

Any takers?

There is a nude beach here that might make the best place for this type of scene.  After the sauce is gone, I’ll cover you in sand, laugh at you, and piss all over you.

Any takers?

I’m in the mood to play.  Don’t make me sit alone, horny as hell, drinking, loathing this town, again, night after night.  Call me up and tell me you want to do the cheesy splosh scene.  I will make it very very fun!

Thanks to the massive budget cuts that the California state school system is in the midst of, I had a ten-day furlough season.  I thought I could stick around and take care of the things I need to take care of or I could head to New England.  You might know how much I loathe Sandy Eggo and you might already realize that I split town.

My girlfriend, Lorelei Erisis, went back east when I realized that I was going to go to graduate school in San Diego.  We came here looking for places, opportunities and good times only to discover a hostile environment where people would not shake her hand and local queers were doing everything in their power to mimic the straight heteronormative lifestyle that hegemonic forces so demand.  We realized pretty quickly that she needed to live somewhere less volatile.

She went back east and I stayed here.  It was, and is, awful.  We are in love.  We are best friends.  Why does she have to live thousands of miles away?  Fuck, can you hear the sadness?

Anyway.  Sob sob, poor me, waaaaa.

I went to New England and had an awesome time.   I got a lot of work done at the stonewall center.  I had a chance to talk to some people about gender variant neologisms. I pissed on some boys.

So, on with the porn.

The first few days I was there I was in the midst of a huge deadline.  I hade a paper on crime theory due and I was on the rag.  I was vile.  As soon as I turned it in I looked up and realized I had to pee.  A nifty sort of boy contacted me.  He confessed that he used to play at dungeons but because the sessions were so cookie cutter ze ceased to continue the activities.

We met in a bar in downtown Northampton in the middle of the day.  I had a bloody marry that was not strong enough, spicy enough, or bloody enough.  He drank a beer.  We sat there discussing the finer points of verbal humiliation.  When our drinks were finished we headed to the Hotel Northampton.  It is a big beautiful historic hotel.  Not the sort of place people designed to meet for smutty activities.

At the bar this boy tells me that she has “prepared the room.” Knowing that we have agreed to a golden shower I asked if she covered the room in plastic wrap, like Dexter would.  Should I be frightened?  What am I walking into? I wondered.

When we got to the room there was a big blue tarp on the bed and a door that lead to a shared balcony. The balcony was right above the main drag in this cute little college town.   Highly visible.

I put her in a sexy one-piece girdle bra thing.  Beige, with a crotch snap and huge D cups that she could not fill.  Poor boobless boy.  Then we went out on the balcony.  I had her prance around on the balcony in her skivvies.  I took off my pants and told her to lie down.  I pissed on her belly, on her crotch, on her face.

“Stand up and look at the people down on the street” I told her.  I made her prance around some more.  We were only on the second floor.  She was wet with piss, standing in a one-piece panty, bra, girdle combo.  Chest hair popping out of the bra.  Flat chested hairy wet bitch.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  People were out on the street.  Lots of people. Anyone who looked up could have seen us up there on the balcony.  I made eye contact with a middle-aged hippie type.  He saw.

Though the sun was out, it was October in New England.  My bitch was wet and without pants on, I was cold.  We headed back in to the tarp-covered bed.  I had him lay on the blue tarp and I stood over him, letting my piss trickle.  I asked him a question and when he went to answer it I let some more piss fall onto his face.  I was having a blast.

He wanted to be degraded, but didn’t want to be called any of the standard “pig, slut whore” type names.  I started in on his capitalistic lifestyle.  His carbon footprint.  His SUV.  His over indulgent house in the suburbs.  I was having a super sexy time insulting this American.  I got down.  Pissing and articulation of all things wrong with the world.  That is what this bitch was getting.  All the while we are on a blue tarp covered bed, in a snooty themed hotel with floral print screaming at me from every wall and window covering.  A puddle of piss had formed around my left foot.  “Slurp it,” I ordered.

After a bit we moved to a strip tease.  I had her put on an extra layer of bra / panties.  “Get up in the window and dance” I told her. Sadly, the only music in the place was some strange folk concert on the telly.  The sound quality sucked, the music was laden with banjos, and my hairy, flat-chested, piss-covered, panty-wearing bitch was trying her damdest to shake her flat manly ass.

I laughed.  She danced. I laughed, she danced.  She rolled around on the floor like a stripper would.  I laughed.

Eventually I put her in the tub, stood over her and had her stroke herself.  I pissed in her nose, in her eyes, on her dick.  I drenched her. She came.  Then I spanked her with the remote control.

Then …

I had one of the strangest sessions ever while I was in noho.  An old man – old like white hair, pot belly, probably in his 70’s old – called me and suggested that he was a big fan and wanted to get together.  After a short conversation we agreed to meeting at a cheap sounding motel at the edge of Smith College.

When I got there he was not able to articulate what sort of session he wanted.  He said he didn’t have any experience. I asked him to tell me a story.  He said he didn’t have any.

The room had this huge heart shaped bathtub.  “Strip and get in” I told him.  I had a gallon of water in me already.  “Get out, put on the panties, and get back in” I instructed.  I stood precariously over this love tub, in my own black cotton thong and pissed just enough to get them wet.  I slapped them thinking “I don’t think I have ever pissed in my panties before.” I liked the way it felt.  Wet panties dripping over an old man.  This was about to get very hot.

I tried to get some information about his fantasies out of him.  I got nothing.  He was dull, vapid, boring me to tears.  I pissed a slow trickle over him, through my panties.  I was amused by the sensation of dripping wet panties.  I shot a little onto his white hair.   He seemed totally indifferent.  Maybe it was not about to get hot.  I was still hopeful.

After what seemed like three hours but was more like twenty minutes my piss stream dried up. I was shocked.  I drank a gallon of water.  Where in the hell was it?  Today is the day my body decided to absorb it? Am I piss shy if I’m not turned on?  I had no idea.  My piss was gone.  Our chemistry was non-existent.  I was trying to piss on an old man in a heart shaped tub.  There was no music.  There was no conversation.  Then there was no piss.

Mua~mwa~muagh.

Not the sexiest of times.  Certainly one of the most awkward.  I left with the impression that this old man simply wanted to be near me for an hour.  I wish he had said that on the phone.  We could have had lunch.

Then …

Thank gawd, at the last possible minute, I lined up a public golden shower.  I love these.  Love Them!

We met at the Wal-Mart.  As we went in I put my hand out.  He put money in it.  We walked to the back of the store.  I took him in the family rest room.  I locked the door so a Wal-Mart shopping family didn’t catch us.  “Take off your jacket and put it on the dirty baby changer.  If you want your clothing to stay dry, strip.” I told him.  He looked puzzled.  “If you don’t mind getting soaked just lay down in your clothes.” He laid down on the floor in his black pants and black t-shirt.  I dropped my pants and stuck my ass over his face.  “Open” I demanded.  I squirt a quick shot of piss into his mouth.  “Swallow” I ordered.  He gulped it down and opened wide again.  I shot piss into his mouth and he swallowed it.  This happened several times and then I let the piss flow so that it got in his nose, in his eyes.  He was sputtering.  It was fucking hilarious.  I was giggling as he tried to avoid drowning in my piss.  I was laughing and pissing.  He was swallowing and sputtering.  He told me it was like going swimming as a kid.  I pissed all over him.  Got his clothes wet.  Shot my full bladder all over his face.  I had to piss something awful.  It was fucking hot.  I grabbed a piece of toilet paper, wiped, threw it at his face, pulled up my pants and headed out the door.

As I was leaving the parking lot he walked in front of the car I was driving with the biggest smile I have every seen on someone leaving Wal-Mart.

My heart was pounding, my pussy was throbbing, my pocket was full of cash.  I was Happy.