If Masturbation is a Sin…

…I am so going to Hell!

This morning I woke with the most delicious fantasy in my head. Me, an old lover, some good music, and a lap dance that turned into a wild ride. Of course this then required a little assistance from the toys, which wait for just such occasions, in my bedside drawer.

It was a lovely way to wake up.

Sigh, these days it is my usual way of waking up.

Not having a lover means not being touched, kissed, fondled, held, licked… all things I miss so much. It also means no morning sex.

I do miss morning sex.

A former lover once asked how often I masturbate.

I thought deeply before I answered. Was this a trick question? Was he looking for a little titillation, imagining when and how I might masturbate, to spice up his days? Was he fishing for a better understanding of my sex drive worried that he wasn’t satisfying me, feeling that my desire for self-fulfillment might somehow be a comment on his abilities?

I took the middle road and averaged it explaining that it changed depending on if I was seeing him, writing erotica, or just having one of those days.

I haven’t had one of those days in awhile.

Those wonderful days where you wake with the itch just on the periphery of you vision. It grows as the day progresses and you feed it. Gently at first by how you walk, sit, and stand. You feed the thoughts that come keeping them fresh and alive in your head. Subtle changes occur. You are just slightly damp all day. Your voice takes on a richness that is usually reserved for the bedroom. In the end you are a walking erogenous zone. The slightest touch or shift of fabric makes you sigh with pleasure.

Walking through the halls you start looking at your coworkers in a new light. Wondering naughty thoughts and curious to know if they can sense your mood. You lick your lips when you shouldn’t wondering if the single guy down the hall would go for a quickie in the storage room but knowing that what you want is no quickie.

After all this, the teasing and fantasies, what you want is your lover and oodles of time. No rush. You want the burning feeling that tingles on the edge of your flesh to drop deep inside you, where only he can touch. You want to explore the chair, the table, the couch, the floor and maybe later… the bed. To be taken every way you ever have before and to try a few new things….

Yes, that is what you want after a day that starts with an itch and ends by burning through you until there is nothing left.

Mmmm…those are good days.

Licks!

Sigh….

So many things to worry about…. 

• Is it the end of the G-Spot?
• Is my clitoris too small?
• Will I ever have sex that makes me pass out? La petite mort?

And on and on….

The days of keeping up with the Jones’ public life is past now I have to keep up with their private life as well. I’ve been doing research and to be honest it is making me cranky. Everyone is having more, better, bombastic, orgasmic, titillating sex than I am.

Waaaaaahhhh!

I may have to curl up with the warmth of my imagination and a few toys and see if that will make me feel better. The lovely thing about fantasies I can be anything and I can do anyone any way I can imagine.

The nice thing is if I come up with anything really sexy I promise to share.

Licks!

What the Fuck was I thinking?

One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to exercise more. To repeat "What the Fuck was I thinking?"

I know, I know, me and most of the population of the western world. But I had put on a few pounds – first by being deliriously happy and then by being devastatingly unhappy. Thank goodness I’ve learned how to mourn the ends of relationships. Granted I don’t take the high road. I cut all ties and then drink heavily.

I’ve never understood those people who can be friends with their ex-lovers right after the demise of an affair. It takes too much energy and gives to much heartache. Give me a nice clean cut severing the ties then let me move on.

But back to my resolution…

I wanted to feel better – and exercise always makes me feel better. It makes me feel happy and sexy and lusty.

I had forgotten about the lust.

My sex drive is always ready to be revved up but exercise sends it into turbo mode. I couldn’t believe the thoughts I had last night – the text messages I sent to former lovers – my behavior was like that of a bitch in heat. I wish I believed in anonymous sex – that would have been a simple answer to my problem. But no, I’ve been around enough to know that the sex I prefer comes in a complete package with a sexy body and a sexy mind.

No reply to my blatant hints at a booty call so I was left to my own devices.

Devices is a beautiful word. It conjures images of toys and vice all in one. So yes, left to my own devices I got out the toys. A former lover of mine had sent me the We Vibe – it was designed as a couple’s toy but I found some interesting uses for it last night. If you haven’t heard of it or seen it check out this video from Babeland.  


I had no idea that I could insert it and then wander around the house while it tickled my insides. Oo La La! Vibrating toys are not usually my thing – I find them a great tease but they rarely move me to completion. Last night it didn’t bring on an orgasm but played around the point rather well. Reminding me once again why we are drawn to our opposite halves….goodness I miss sex!

Licks!