Va Va Voom!

I’d never been to a burlesque club or show until a few months ago, and then once they were on my radar it’s like they were everywhere.

If you haven’t been to a burlesque show I highly recommend it for an evening of sexy, risqué fun. And boobs. Lots of boobs. Sometimes even boobs that get set on fire. But I’ll get to that.

The first burlesque show I went to broke all my preconceived notions of the genre. My only real image was that of women like Dita von Teese (OK, who’s really like Dita von Teese beside DVT??), or the dancers a la the Pussycat Dolls. Another admission: I’ve never been to a strip club. So I was more than ready to see some women work it.

Real Talk

I’ve been pussyfooting around for much too long, so today I’m going to come clean.

Yes, I’ve really had internet problems. Like ridiculous do-we-still-live-in-1999 internet problems.

Yes, I’ve really had computer problems. Like my screen on my laptop only works about 50% of the time, unless I take the battery out, do a shamanic dance, pet it nicely, and then let it “relax” for a couple of hours before trying again.

And yes, I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block. Like my brain has blocked writing about sex the way China has blocked Twitter. No free flow of information from brain to blank screen, no matter how hot the sex was.

All these things are true. And yet, I would be fibbing if I said that they are all really the causes of my recent hiatus.

I have lost my desire to write about my sex life. Likewise, my exhibitionistic streak seems to have evaporated. Like, overnight, y’all. I remember the day it happened. And I've been hoping it would come back. Not so far. Not yet.

Also, there’s not as much sex happening. And it’s starting to scare me. I have talked with D about it, and we’re working through it. But it’s scaring me because the decline is happening for the same reason we declined in the past: pain. I’m dealing with a health condition that hurts. And sometimes it hurts so much that having sex, or doing sex-like things, just can’t happen.

So.

I started blogging to have a place to share our wonderful, renewed sex life. And that has touched a lot of people. Every week I get emails from readers asking me to write more about the sexless void days and more about how we got to where we are now because it gives them hope (and ideas) for their own relationships. I also get emails from people who are happily married and want to have more/better/more AND better sex with their spouses. And that is one of the most amazing things about having this blog.

But now I have no real desire write or tweet about how many orgasms I had, or how hard I came, or how exactly I sucked D off, or where we most recently had an illicit liaison. Suddenly it feels…not right. And I don’t have nearly as much source material anyway.

I don’t post naked pictures like many of my favorite bloggers. I don’t post my (or others’) orgasms like N. does. I don’t want to make porn like Violet+Rye do. And I don’t have my eye set on publishing books, as Daisy Danger and Mr. X have done. I have no endgame.

Where does that leave me? Pondering. Blocked. Somewhat quiet. Taking ideas. At least as long as my computer and mule-powered internet continue to give me grief.

A Weekend Erotica Review

When I was asked to review Curvy Girls, a new erotic short story anthology edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, I was hesitant, but I wasn’t sure why. Possibly it was my own history as a curvy girl whom nobody was terribly in at various points in my life. I’ve gotten over that history of disappointment, and though I’m smaller than many of  the women whose stories fill this anthology, I am still curvy in all the right places, and I’ve learned to embrace my curves and love my body. But I will always identify with the character in Sommer Marsden’s story Runner’s Calves when the dread of boot buying season is upon us! Hot chicks with strong calves, you know what I mean.

Filthy Knickers

This piece originally appeared on Fleshbot as part of Camille Crimson week. Thanks to Camille for asking me to contribute!

It happened months ago, but I can still see the events of that evening in my mind's eye. Evening is wrong. It started that morning, when he chose my underwear and my dress. "I plan to fuck you in that dress when you get home tonight." Are there any words better than that to get a Friday morning started?

The panties were a black lace thong. It didn't matter that they were a version of my everyday knickers. It mattered that he decided what I'd wear. The black lace bra with pink satin insets and straps made my breasts look even fuller. I love that bra. And on top of it all was the abstract-print wrap dress he was so hot to fuck me in. Short-sleeved, with a wrap that hit slightly higher than my actual waist, the dress did amazing things for my figure. The top hugged my tits just right, with a low enough plunge to make people think naughty things without giving the goods away. The skirt hit just above my knee, flaring out over my hips, making my legs look a mile long.

Hiatus

I've been on a little hiatus, which you might have noticed or not. A few things in life have interfered with blogging, most notably a bit of writer's block. I've been working on some things, but not much is coming out. Add to it some computer and internet problems, and a hiatus is born. But I'll be back. In the meantime, enjoy a piece I wrote specifically for Camille Crimson's Fleshbot week, coming up shortly!

Quick and Dirty

I wrote some stuff, but it's not ready for prime time. So I asked for a couple of questions and got some good ones!

What was the most challenging or intimidating sex act that you ended up really liking?

I'm not sure it's a sex act per se, but I'll let you decide. Months and months ago I started reading a blog that was pretty heavy on BDSM. The Dom in the couple frequently spanked his sub's pussy, and although she really seemed to enjoy it, it sounded appallingly painful to me. I saw it mentioned in enough other places that it was clear some women really love it. But I just couldn't see the appeal, and my thighs clenched protectively over my pussy whenever I read about it.

Fast forward several months, and one afternoon while I was tied up and helpless on the bed, D softly spanked my mostly closed pussy. And it felt soooooo good. So good. So he did it some more, getting a little rougher each time. Finally he let loose with about 10 good spanks over my clit and I nearly came.

Recently he did spank me until I came. I find this very odd because it turns out I really don't enjoy getting my ass spanked.

When was your wettest time?

I think it might have been the time we had amazing sex in a bamboo hut. It was sort of public because there were no windows and people were sitting right outside. And I think that the sense of danger got me really excited and insanely hot. I was gushing as soon as D slipped inside and it just didn't stop. You can read more here.

And thanks for playing today's round of Quick and Dirty with Liza (tm)!

A Final Word on Daring Sex (with Mr. X)

I'm re-posting this from Mr. X's site The Sex Experiment. If you've enjoyed this series, subscribe to his blog, or otherwise make it a point to get over there. You'll find a wealth of completed experiments waiting for you.

Sexy reader (and blogger) Liza wrote in asking for a dare set in an amusement park. She then proceeded to thoroughly surpass our erotic expectations. And now there’s more. As regular readers of this blog know, most of the sex “experiments” I “conduct” with my wife and others come in three parts: my dare, her response to the dare, and the overall “result” of the experiment (which is sometimes my more general thoughts about the experiment, and which hopefully includes me getting my brains fucked out). Thanks to the gracious and adventurous Liza, we now have a “result” written by her husband, who’s clearly as charming (and as horny) as she is (although wouldn’t you be charming too if you got to fondle Lizas on ferris wheels?). Here’s his debrief:

When Liza told me of her challenge to leave her panties on the ferris wheel, a feat that would be impossible due to security sweeps, I immediately took it upon myself to raise the stakes. That only seemed fair. If we couldn’t follow instructions to the letter, we should at least go one step beyond. Secretly sliding my fingers into her on the ferris wheel while we were in plain view of our companions on the ride and onlookers below was a new thrill. There was danger and intimacy and the feeling of pulling off the perfect crime (really perfect since no one got hurt and orgasms were had).

That sense of exhibitionism with a hint of danger was a real turn on, especially for Liza, my delightfully slutty exhibitionist wife. Minutes after the ferris wheel experience, I could tell she was aching for more fun, that publicly flirty side of her awakened. She sat on a sidewalk bench, her lace panties now lost to some street performer’s guitar case. I stood across from her with our camera. Liza posed on the bench, giving me a peek under her short skirt. I snapped photos of her bare pussy as pedestrians crossed to and fro behind her, all unaware of the private show I was getting right under their noses. There was never any chance her flash would be seen by another. But it turns out we have a very, very good camera.

A few days later, as Liza and I headed home in a cab, she sent me a text. “I want your fingers inside me.” Before Mr. X’s ferris wheel dare, I would have laughed. Maybe I would have texted her back, describing what I was going to do to her when we got back home. Instead, emboldened by the fact that the back of a cab is hardly as public as a ferris wheel, I reached up her skirt and slid my fingers inside her. As advertised, she was already sopping for me, ready for those fingers. I dipped them lightly in and out, gathering moisture, my range of motion limited by our position and her skirt. With my fingertips wet, I stroked her swollen clit as we drove through the nighttime streets, slowing my motion whenever we reached a red light and the cab grew quieter. This was more to hush her tell-tale moans than anything else.

It’s safe to say that things are going to be decidedly un-safe from now on. Thanks to the Sex Experiment, our bar for furtively public sex acts has been set sky high (both metaphorically and, in a sense, literally). I’m sure there will be many more to come (so to speak) and each time I’ll be sending a psychic thank you to Mr. X for opening this new door to us.

e[lust] #36--Lots of Sexy Reads

Photo courtesy of A Couple of Wankers

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust].  Want to be included in e[lust] #37? Start with the newly updated rules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 ~ Top 3 ~

The Cheshire Cat – Alice felt whiskers tickle her skin and was wracked with sobs of fear. “Oh, little girl, don’t cry. You can stand much more than you think you can.”

Vaginal Overexposure? – I see a lot of vaginas. A lot. One of my favorite things to tell Vincent and his friends is, “I see more vagina that you ever will!”

Marionette – “I’m writing out a fantasy of mine, but I’m not sure what to do with some of it. I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.”  “Yes Ma’am.”

 ~ Featured Post (Picked by Lilly) ~

Journeys – These insecurities are at the root of my fears. I don’t know how to combat them, how to turn those tapes off in my head.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

I’ve found a new secret to my G-spot – This g-spot thing might be hard to find since it can’t be mapped, but believe me it is real and with time, exploration, a good clitoral orgasm and a willing set of fingers and/or dildos you CAN find it.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

A Word on What Your Words Do to Me

I read almost everything you write. I like most of it, but some of it makes me uncomfortable. Sometimes I have to take a break and reassess my relationship with you and your words. Occasionally it angers me. Maybe anger isn't the right word. It provokes a response that makes me feel...something that isn't agreement or joy That's OK. That's great even. The power of your words is affecting.

But sometimes what you write is so beautiful, so hot, so vivid that my reaction is instant. It's as though I'm responding to a flesh and blood sexual advance, but it's just words on a screen. Words that make my skin hot and prickly with goosebumps. Words that cause my nipples to tighten and force themselves against the now restrictive lace. Words that send a jolt to my cunt, making my clit pulse.

All the World's a Stage

Someone the other day described their online persona as a "character," as someone not really quite like their real selves. It got me thinking, again, about the masks we wear, those of us pursue our endeavors anonymously.

I Respond to Mr. X

Dear Mr. X,

When I received the email with your dare I’ll admit I wasn’t surprised. It seems you are on a bit of tear with getting women to lose their panties all over town. I loved the idea of it, from the moment I read the message I started scheming.

I decided not to tell my husband about the plot. He knew that the dare existed, but that was it. By mutual agreement we decided that I would let him know what was asked only once we were on the point of making it happen.

We had a whole afternoon in front of us with no plans, and decided to go out for a late lunch and then seen where the day took us. I asked D to select my underwear and clothes. I wasn’t surprised by his choices, but I was a bit worried. You see, he chose my brand new crotchless spiderweb-backed panties that I hadn’t even worn yet. I really didn’t want to lose those. Furtively I tucked another pair in my bag--the pair I’d brought specifically for this dare.

Are You Really Sex Positive? Am I?

Earlier this week I read a brief piece in The Frisky that posited a sort of code of conduct that folks who write about sex should consider following if they consider themselves to be sex positive. Briefly, and without going into too much detail, because you really need to go read the article, here are the points (reprinted without permission from The Frisky, but I hope they won't hold it against me, since you're going to go read the full piece, right?) All "I," etc. references below refer to Rachel Rabbit White, the author. Italics are my thoughts:

1. Having sex is healthy, but so is not having sex. Sex positivity has long been about “owning our desires” but it should also be about owning our lack of desire, which is totally OK.

Having been through a sexless period that I long felt was abnormal and ruinous, I'm trying to reshape my perspective. Not having sex isn't always something that needs fixing. In my relationship it did, but I'm coming to understand that it's not always a problem for everyone, and trying to be more sensitive to that.

Stunt Sex (with Mr. X)

Some time ago I wrote about "stunt sex" when someone asked me if writing this blog had changed or affected our sex life. I defined "stunt sex" as sex had primarily in the interest of blogging about it. Which we don't do. Didn't do. Until now? I'm trying to wrap my head around what has happened.

A couple of weeks ago N created a scenario for D and me, sort of at my behest. I assume I had the option to follow or not follow the instructions as desired. N and I don't have the sort of relationship he has with other women with whom he practices the domination at a distance that I so enjoy reading about on his blog. We've developed a friendship and maybe flirt a little bit, but mostly we bounce writing topics and potential ideas off each other.

Wake-up Calls

He keeps waking me with his tongue in my pussy. Sometimes I’m already stirring. Or his movement under the sheets to get into position wakes me just a little. But sometimes I don’t know what’s happening until he’s already barely traced the outline of my slit with the tip of his nose, already parted my lips with the tip of his tongue.

Disoriented, it takes me a moment to register what I’m feeling, realize that it’s not a dream. Sometimes I’m shocked a little bit—I can’t exactly place what’s happening to my body and I resist a little bit. But when those moments pass and my brain and body connect, I relax and give into the pleasure fully. In my vulnerable state he could have anything he wants, but he doesn’t want it if I’m not into it.

Photo courtesy of Single Chair.

Sex Snapshot 6: Hard

Slowly he stroked around my nipple, raising goosebumps on my breast. Achingly, slowly, his fingertips brushed over the nipple and suddenly the flesh contracted and my tips hardened. A lick, a suck, and where there had been soft skin, firm arousal took its place.

Hard. Beautiful. Photo courtesy of mloc.

Alias

We’re mostly living secret lives, those of who write these things and post them online. Actually, I guess we’re just living our lives, but writing about them using secret identities or aliases. It does seem like everyone is hiding from something or someone.

Spank Me. Whip Me. Flog Me.

I watched her, handcuffed to the cross, as she took the beating. At least, it looked like a beating to me. Even though I know that for her, it was part of the path to ecstasy. Her knees buckled at times, and just her wrists held her weight for a few moments. He was very aware of what he was doing to her, backing off slightly here and again to see if she was able to take more. Her body yielded and resisted. His power and strength were evident in each strike. Her pleasure in the pain was, too.

I watched another woman, this time laying across a bench. She seemed to be sampling the merchandise, and I think it was her first time to be spanked and otherwise struck with toys (toys?) that look dark, scary, and dangerous. Sometimes she smiled. Sometimes she grimaced. Sometimes she looked over her shoulder as if to ask what exactly the fuck did you just do? At the end she got up, pulled her dress down and gingerly rubbed her ass. She looked as if she wasn't sure whether she enjoyed it or not.

“Dampness” - Mirabilia Images. Used with permission.

Quick Sex Toy Review

A few weeks ago I posted a list of toys under consideration. I have acquired some. Not being a sex toy reviewer, I am not posting full-on reviews of features and annoying buttons and the like. This is just a slightly wandering musing on the pleasures and disappointments of these new toys. And please note: I paid full retail prices for all of these items.

Lelo Tor II

We read the reviews written by others. We took their glowing recommendation into account. We heard a few grumbles, but they were very few, and seemed to have reasonable ways to manage them (more lube is the answer to almost any issue with this toy). So, into the basket it went.

Image from en.lelo.com

We have not been disappointed. The first time we used it was for fucking. I believe D called it the "amazing forever permanent orgasm machine." For me. Positioned with the vibrating part at the top (between cock and belly for missionary or cowgirl), the vibrations hit my clit every time, and when I just grind on him, well, holy hot damn! I have no idea how many times I came, or if I ever stopped coming while we were using that lovely cockring. It has a bunch of complex vibration settings, but we just like it on the highest steady setting.

D has used it on his own several times during masturbation and LOVES it. I've watched a few times as he stretches the ring and manages to get his cock and balls all the way through it. It's a pretty insane sight. His orgasms are very strong, but the tightness of the ring means his come oozes and dribbles out somewhat slowly, rather than spurting. It's a sight to behold, and he's loving the new and different stimulation.

*Edit: D asked me to mention that this toy should hold a charge for about an hour, but he feels like it's run out on him a bit sooner than that. But yes, that does mean he's been jacking off for close to an hour each time.

Our verdict so far: definite WIN!

Lelo Liv (originally wanted the Mona)

After viewing and handling the options, I chose the Liv over the Mona. Price was a small part of it, but on inspection, the Liv was much more like the vibe I've been trying to replace for about 6 months. I've tried a few different options, different styles from what I had, and none have been just right. Liv is a similar size, with similar vibration patterns.

Image from en.lelo.com

I've used Liv three times, I think, and all have led to very strong, wonderful orgasms. It's a nice vibe for penetration and g-spot action, as well as clit stimulation. I've tried several of the vibration patterns, and my verdict thus far is that I prefer the strong, steady vibe for pussy stimulation, but one of the intermittent patterns for anal stim. And yes, it works quite nicely for me as an anal vibe.

My verdict so far: WIN

We-Vibe 3
I want to like the We-Vibe. To be fair, we've only tried it once. And it wasn't a spectacular outing for the little guy. Reed from Reed and River Unplugged did a review of it a week or so ago, and we pretty much agree with everything he said. However, we still need to try it as a remote vibe in public (which we've done before with another toy), which could be rather fun. And we need to try it for pegging. But right now, it's feeling like this may have been a mistaken and impulsive buy. I hope I am wrong.

Note: upon reading this review D said "which vibe is that? I don't know what you're talking about." Clearly it did not make an impression.

Our verdict so far: the jury is out

Agent Provocateur $180 bra and $150 panties What Katie Did Overbust Corset
As hot and sexy as the AP lingerie is, for whatever reason, both D and I became very interested in the idea of an honest-to-goodness corset. Especially one that could be worn as an actual piece of clothing. We found  ourselves looking at the lovely pieces from What Katie Did, which has an excellent website, as well as shops in the UK and Los Angeles. Just a note, their customer service is fantastic. Excellent. Perfect.

Wearing a real, honest-to-goodness steel-boned corset is a slightly weird experience. But if it's laced correctly it feels fine. Not that you're going to run a marathon in it, but still. So I did get one, and it's beautiful. It's not especially low-cut as many corsets are, so my tits don't overflow the top and risk nipple exposure. It looks like the fantastic basque top of a strapless dress. Also, apparently I look hot in it.

Our verdict so far: WIN

There are a few more things in our toy bag--things that weren't on the list, but looked really fun to try. So perhaps another update will be in the offing.