Happy New Year

This will most likely be my last entry of the year unless I come up with something good in the next couple of days. I tried to have sex a couple of weeks ago. First time I've been horny in ages (I have a doctor's appointment in January) and I dried up at penetration. So frustrating! Then last night Foot Fetish Boyfriend had to settle for a blowjob because I just haven't been horny. At all. Not even mentally horny. Some sex blogger I am, eh?

Anyway, we'll see what the New Year's celebration brings. I bought enough liquor tonight to make my liver fall out and damn it all, I am going to get fucking trashed. And maybe laid. And most likely puke at some point. But it's a party! Woo!

Hey, any readers from New York City? I'll be visiting in March for my birthday and I want to know some good clubs with house music, or, even better, dubstep. Love and kisses forever for some recommendations! Just leave 'em in the comments!

Do good works

I wanted to post something in the spirit of the season, which should be, in all reality, the spirit of every day, but it's not, for most people. I know for me it usually isn't. What I'm getting at is be good to each other. Life is too short. Holidays are especially difficult, whether it be due to loneliness and depression, loss, poverty, whatever.

I am unemployed. I am receiving food stamps and just this week got approved for my unemployment benefits. Things got very hairy for me for a while. But I'll be okay. However, when good friends said that they were going to have to pawn personal possessions, and play "which bill doesn't get paid" in order to give their kids a Christmas, I couldn't stand idly by. Unbeknownst to anyone, I went to the grocery store before arriving at their house for one of our get togethers and bought them $80 worth of groceries and offered the use of my credit card to pay their bills (with payback later) so that they could buy gifts.

I also dropped a bag of food off at a local business that was collecting for a couple of local families because I found out via one of the owners that they had had barely any donations. For all the people that are in and out of the shop daily, no one could bring in a can of food. I would have brought more, if I could have brought frozen food. I took from my pantry, and I am not wanting for it. There are people a lot more worse off than me.

So, not to sound preachy, because there is no religious or ulterior motive behind this, just do good by your fellow man. It actually feels kind of good. It's something I'm going to bring up to my therapist today, because while I was helping my friends, and buying extra presents for my loved ones, donating food to the less fortunate, I didn't have time to be depressed. It's not enough to make me run out and volunteer because let's face it, I'm lazy, but if I can do these small things and feel good, maybe others can too.

Do good things, people!

Oh! The Scandal!

Wikipedia has a huge list, in chronological order of political sex scandals in the U.S. should you care to look them up. They go back quite far. I've been thinking about sex and politics lately, since the politicians are putting in their bids and trying to be their party's favorite for the running toward the presidency. I'll try to keep actual politics out of it because I don't enjoy talking about politics in general, but damn, that Buchanan woman is a fucking peach now, isn't she? Hiss.

The first time I ever really took notice of political sex scandal was back in 1998 (jesus... graduating high school and entering college. Now I feel old) with Bill Clinton. Now, his taste in women was questionable, but if he liked that little pork sausage, to each his own. But that was the first time I was like "this is just dumb." And it was. Did getting some in the Oval Office affect how he ran things? No. Not in the least. At least, not from what I could see, and in my newly-18-and-I-can-vote scrutiny, he was actually doing a good job of things.

I'm gong to say something, and it may shock some of you, so you may want to sit first:

People have sex. Even politicians.

Gasp! I know! And they have unhappy marriages and affairs, just like real people! Who'd'a thunk it? Listen, I know it makes good press, and it's awesome if you're actively trying to roust someone from their seat to take over and you come across this dirt on them to expose for your own gain, but honestly? It's none of our business, and a little gross to publicly shame them for getting their dicks wet. I imagine being a politician is stressful so if you gotta get off, to relax and get the tension out, so be it.

Politicians: they're people too.

Rambling

Sometimes you hit a dry spell. I'm in one. My libido has tanked and so has motivation to  do much. I told my therapist about this blog today and I realized I write in it a lot more often when I'm manic. I'm baseline now, not depressed, but I haven't been struck with inspiration. I still check my stats every day and I appreciate the hits I get. But everyone gets a dry spell and I've run into one. Tonight I think I'll just listen to beautiful music and center myself. Does anyone have any topics they'd like me to write about?

I'll just leave these here.

Wow...

So this isn't much of an entry but... I'm watching some Animal Planet show about weird animal mating rituals and slug mating is... Amazingly elegant. Look it up. Wow. Also, bonobos fuck a lot. No wonder we're so closely related to the Great Apes.

Prostitution should be legal

A good friend and I were taking about jail and how celebrities are released due to over crowding because we frankly have the wrong "criminals" in there. What do I mean by the wrong criminals, you ask? Let's talk drugs, for a moment. Now, I am one of the most anti-drug people you'll ever meet, but jailing a small-time user or dealer of marijuana is ridiculous and a waste of time and money. Fine them and be on their way. Now white-collar crimes like tax evasion. Not only are the taxes not getting paid, but it actually costs taxpayers money to have tax evaders in jail. Way to go, the legal system.

So what does this all have to do with prostitution? A number of things. Since I'm composing this on my phone (anyone wanna donate a Samsung Galaxy Tab? *wink*) and it's becoming cumbersome, I present to you the numbered list. Besides, people feel tl;dr with paragraphs sometimes.

1. Legalization would allow for federal regulation, meaning taxation (because really, it's only illegal because the government isn't getting their cut) and access to healthcare programs.

2. Also, legalization would decriminalize the sex worker industry, freeing up space in the jails for rehabilitation of real criminals and would help our government save on wasteful spending.

3. No more pimps! No more girls or boys abused, held hostage, raped and kept strung out and controlled by the god-damned pimps. Prostitutes in a legalized sex industry would have a safer work environment due to the lack of pimps.

4. Regulation... I touched on this briefly. One thing that there is no control over now that legalization could enforce is something that is done in the porn industry: mandatory STD and AIDS testing every 3-6 months as well as immunizations for hepatitis.

5. Oh, and let's put an end to human trafficking, shall we? Of course, legalizing prostitution doesn't put an end to the exploitation of the impoverished and desperate denizens of third world countries, but it will help.

Thoughts? Opinions? I know people read this, and I'd love to get some discussion going!

How to Cheat and Not get Caught

I know that I haven't written a lot in the original spirit of this blog, which I started to write exclusively about being the Other Woman but then started to explore my own sexuality, sexual politics, and education, so, sleepless, during a snow storm, I realized that my laptop had juice and that some neighbor had power (and I don't) and a weak wifi signal I could piggyback off'n. So here we go. Run-on sentences and all. The Other Woman's guide to not getting caught cheating.

1. Make sure you've paid attention to CSI
Yes, I'm being serious. Leave no trace. If your lover comes to your house or apartment for your tryst, you damn well pick every hair up that they shed from the couch, bed, and rug. Tape works wonders. And if their hair is longer than your partner's, make sure you go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. Say you are a man cheating on your female lover with another female. Ask your lover not to finger-comb her JBF (just been fucked) hair out in your place. Those hairs shed and it's something you have to clean up after. And don't toss them in the bathroom trash either.

2. Trash
Don't flush your condoms. Your wastewater management people will thank you. Bury them in toilet paper in the trash. Someone bring you a yummy treat? Bury it in the trash, or, better yet take it out to the dumpster or take all the trash out (look honey, you didn't have to ask!). Something so innocent as a fast food wrapper can tip a suspicious partner off, trust me.

3. Delete delete delete
I don't care how sentimental and touching the text messages and voicemails are, delete them. Delete all call history and, in certain phones, all contact history. Sure you could have the person in the phone; "who is this?" "oh someone from work/sports team/activity/AA." Anyone can rationalize someone in their phone book, explaining explicit or emotional texts is harder when you have a snoopy  and suspicious partner.

4.Ditch the email, too
Or, at least create a super-private one if you must have email contact with your affair, but for the love of god delete your cache, cookies, and browser history. If your partner stumbles across a second email address they never knew about it's harder to lie about. It's an old one you're suddenly using again? You decided you didn't want Facebook linked to your regular email account? Yeah. Lame. 

Alrighty, I've run out of steam. Anyone else have any other tips?

Big Big Love, Review part 1

Buy Big Big Love on Amazon

 

 

Here is the first part in the long-awaited book review I promised. Since I am only about 1/3 through the book, today I am only going to cover a very small-- but very important-- part of the book. In fact, if you only read part of the book, this is the part I would want everyone to read. So everyone, pull my blog up on your smartphones, run to your local book store, pick up Hanne Blank's Big Big Love (Revised) and open up to the page entitled A Brief Introduction, With a Side of Debunking. Page 1, if you're lazy.

I don't care if you don't give a rat's ass about fat sexuality. Everyone should read the introduction to this book, especially if you have some fat-phobic tendencies. Right off the bat, in the third paragraph, Blank pulls out a statistic that people like to gloss over: 

Technically speaking, about one-third of adult Americans are obese by the BMI-happy standards of the Centers for Disease Control. At a rough estimate, that's about a hundred million people... this represents a wide range of people... with a couple handfuls of extra junk in the trunk to the fattest among us, and it represents a wide range of experience. (pp 1-2)

So what she's saying is... lots of us are fat. Get over it. Everyone has sex. I view the introduction to this book as a bit of a wakeup call to those who shudder and say "who would tap that mound?" or "she must be desperate!" As a society, thin is generally the accepted "pretty" and the only model of desirability. Blank's introduction is a fat-positive slap in the face to that. She can be pretty blunt, but her writing also has a bit of humor behind it, alleviating the sting.

While it might seem that she comes out in your face and aggressive with fat-positivity, it is all leading up to the next section in the book, which is about debunking common myths related to fat people and fat sexuality. Personally, I loved this section. My boyfriend is heavy and he has a lot of concerns related around these myths about his own body and this section was extremely helpful to me in opening a dialogue with him. I also told him I want him to read this book when I'm done with it. I think it will help his self esteem a lot.

Another thing that pops up in the introduction which is awesome are the personal anecdotes and survey answers provided by research done by Blank. Not only has she dedicated years of her life to writing fat-positive materials, she has also included the real-life voices of fat people and fat lovers in her book, both in interviews and side-bar quotes. They are a treat to read and really makes the book much more personal and intimate and relatable. I carry extra "junk in the trunk" myself and it really does help to hear positive words from others, even if in print, to build that positivity and confidence and love in myself. Part of why I selected this book in the first place is that you don't see much about fat sexuality or much that is fat positive on book store shelves. This screamed to me to buy it. So far, I love what I am reading. I hope this encourages you to read it too. Follow the link I provided to amazon and take a peek.

A documentary review instead

Porn is such a hotly debated issue so tonight I'm watching "The Price of Pleasure" streaming on Netflix. I like some porn, love Playboy, so let's see how this is...

55 minutes later...

Wow. I should have known from the title how skewed and anti-porn this documentary is. In a nutshell:

Porn is only watched by men
Porn is demeaning to women
Porn exploits women and minorities
Porn ruins relationships
Porn makes all women feel bad about themselves
Porn sexualizes violence against women

Bull. Fucking. Shit.

Once they got into porn making violence against women okay because it embraces violent scenes I almost turned it off. It's like they took every seedy part of the industry and then touched on the BDSM lifestyle to attack a multimillion dollar industry with skewed facts looking at only heterosexual porn aimed at men. They interviewed men and the women they interviewed were either researchers who were trying to find violence against women or were themselves the victims of abuse/broken marriages due to uncommon or abnormal viewing or use of pornography. It just was not objective at all.

Bad documentary, bad. Now go to your room and think of what you've done.

Books? Books!

It's taking me too long to read a book I bought to review here just because of life (I enjoy reading immensely) so I'm thinking about writing about sections of it. Whatcha think? Tonight is wrestling night with friends so I may not get to write anything until tomorrow but I'm just really excited that I found a really good sexuality book in my local chain book store! More to come. In the mean time, if you have any good recommendations on books about sexuality, gender roles and equality, even if they're used for college courses (*cough* you know who you are *cough*) please leave me some comments so I  can look them up!

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month

I actually put this on my Facebook earlier today but it bears repeating:

I've been sitting on this a while, and I have to say something. October is breast cancer awareness month, and all around me I see retailers cashing in on this by splashing everything with pink. Seriously people, look before you buy something in "support" of any cause. This is an issue close to my heart as my Nana fought 3 rounds of breast cancer. NOT EVERYTHING PINK GIVES PROCEEDS TO SUSAN J. KOMMEN OR BREAST CANCER RESEARCH. Marketers want to tug at the heartstrings of survivors and families of survivors to turn a quick buck. Please check tags on clothes, look at labels, do your research. Make sure that if you're supporting through a third party and not donating directly that your money actually goes to the charitable cause, or to a cause at all. I'm not one for encouraging copy/paste but if you do want to pass it along, go ahead.

Here's a funny

Having a shit day, followed a link from my friend's facebook page and kept browsing until I found this. Enjoy.

The Right Way to Teach Teens About Sex

Economy got you down?

The October edition of Playboy is out and it's only 60¢, so if you've ever been curious about the hype, now is the time to check it out without investing $5 or $6 per issue. I picked mine up yesterday and just opened it today; it even comes with a retro swizzle stick! Just looking at the cover, it looks like there may be an article about affairs! I'm excited!

*scampers off to read*

The Dramaz that Social Networking makes Us LOL at

I figured I've got at least a good half hour  to sit and write before the 100mg of Topamax I just took knocks me out for the night, so why not write. As my mentor urged me (and yes, I consider you my mentor, you-know-who-you-are, and next time you visit why don't you tell me so I can make you food?) I am writing more about myself and my interpersonal experiences, and as I promised, there would not be a lack of entries even though I am now in a relationship with  Foot Fetish Friend. This is actually about our relationship, and the hilarity of a temper tantrum his ex-girlfriend, whom we shall refer to as "Damphir" from here on out, threw.

Let me preface with all involved parties are on Facebook (who isn't? Well, my Dad, but we'll excuse him. He's 70. He gets a pass). I have never met or interacted with Damphir. She does not know me outside of seeing my Facebook profile picture, which is of me in full-on wedding warpaint with my hair done, wearing a tiara for my BFF's wedding in May. Not normal me. But, being the vain creature I am, I like being pretty and it'll stay. Now I'll admit, I'm a creeper. I looked at her profile picture and mocked the wanna-be Gothness and emoness of it all.

Although Foot Fetish Friend and I started "officially" dating on September 2nd, we did not change relationship status on Facebook until he had a talk with Damphir, because he was getting a strong hint from her that she wanted to get back together (being bipolar and borderline personality, this is one of her "up" swings; relationships don't last and don't work for her) he met up with her for coffee to break the news and try to have an adult conversation. Try. Some choice tidbits he relayed back to me:

"Anyone who wears that much makeup must be hiding something"
"I had to block her so that I wouldn't send her a nasty-gram"
Calling me "it" and "that"
"I don't like the way she talks to you/treats you" wtf when has she seen us interact?
"I would rather see you back with your ex-wife than with her"

Yeah, some harsh shit, huh? Bitch doesn't know me. He said the ex-wife comment was the most surprising, because she was around at the end of his marriage and saw how miserably his ex-wife treated him. So yeah. I treat him well, feed him well, talk to him like he's people and have fun with him and I'm somehow worse than his ex-wife. Also, apparently she doesn't like what he has become. Funny how she gleaned this all from my profile picture on Facebook...

Anyway, because he lets me dick around on his computer, he let me, with permission, on his account so I could look at things but the only thing I did was post a lame status on his page making him look like a lame-ass me-worshiper (shh I like attention!). I did look at her pictures and read her emo posts but that's all. A couple of days later he showed me a status on his phone from her:

No matter how much makeup or "fancy" the dress, you can't hide what the nosferatu really is: ugly

Now, that might be a paraphrase, but definitely directed at me from her previous comments to Foot Fetish Friend. And Nosferatu is clearly a reference to a picture we put up before going to the Most Boring Wedding Ever(tm) where I pulled a face that made my already fangy canines look even longer. I have never publicly put out anything hateful to this girl but bitch is jealous. Get a nose job.

So now she has unfriended Foot Fetish Friend because of the post I put on his Facebook, feeling she can't trust him not to let me on her page, that I'm going to see her private inner thoughts about cutting and shit. Whatever. I was willing to be adult about all the bullshit (there's more stuff going on that involves more people but I won't over-complicate things) since I came into the picture but I want to make my petty jabs, too. I hope she Googles "damphir" and finds this. You got beef? Bring it.

Not forgotten

Hey all, I'm working out an entry in my head that I may rough out this weekend (depends on if the house I'm visiting in Cape Cod has wifi or not). Counting tomorrow, I will have been to the doctor's office 3 times this week for my migraines and other ailments.

I am also working out a special deal with a friend who sells adult and spa products, just because I love all my readers. :) That, and the products are amazing and I want her to make some money, too.

Taken

Just a little update as I get ready to drift off to sleep: I am no longer single. I made my commitment to Foot Fetish Friend, letter jackets and fraternity pins and all that jazz. That dots not, however, mean that this blog is ending. Far from it. There are still plenty of things to write about. Now, however, I need some sleep. Good night, gentle readers!

Guilty confession time

I figured since I have a migraine keeping me up I might as well post a bit while I wait for my meds to kick in.

I write a lot on here about responsibility and sexual education, but I must admit, I don't practice everything I preach: I don't use condoms.

I. Hate. Them.

No matter the lubricant, the technique, the thinness of the material it still feels like you're fucking a plastic bag. And forget marathon sex with one of those! Once lubrication is gone, the horrible pull of latex on skin in and out in and out is like an Indian rope burn... On your vagina.

So what does this cumslut do? I'm on the pill. I get tested regularly and make sure my partner(s) do too (I've been pretty much monogamous with Foot Fetish Friend and he has too so no worry there). No babies for me. EVAR~

Speaking of babies, I was in line at the pharmacy at CVS today to pick up my prescription and, glancing to my right at the condoms and pregnancy tests I noticed a DNA paternity kit. You can buy those in the drug stores now? I wonder how accurate they are? I may have to investigate...

No one dropped a house on me

Being  a natural born Mainer I knew Hurricane Irene wouldn't make landfall here and wouldn't amount to much more than wind and rain here. I sat back on my laurels and laughed at everyone panicking and mocked them all in a Mort from Family Guy voice-- you know, that thick New England Jewish accent. I had a lot of fun calling it a "Herricane" and fretting about mocking the masses. But yes, your intrepid author did not blow away, nor did a tree or lawn furniture fall  on her. Just thought I'd let you know. Contemplating something of a partnership with a vendor of adult products. Keep tuned!

Being Alpha Female

Picture it: Sicily, 1938... Central Maine, I-95 Southbound, Summer 2011...

"One of these days I'm going to drive over to Oakland when you're not with me and have at it with her! I'm tired of her bullshit!"

Blame it on the steady diet of heavy metal, rap, and Jersey Shore, but I have a very dominant, aggressive streak in me when it comes to other women (or "dumb bitches" as I like to call them). I am territorial, sniping, and make sure that when I am going to be around other women that there's not contest that I am the best looking. I may submit to men, but with women, I'm all alpha, baby. If I could mark my territory by peeing on it, I probably would.

Urban dictionary has quite a few definitions  about what an alpha female is, but the first definition is pretty succinct, in my mind:

An Alpha Female is a dominant female in a group. She dates as many males as she wants, is strong and confident, and a hard worker as well as often busy. She is usually sarcastic because she's powerful and playful. Alpha Females are intelligent, intellectual problem solvers; and though being an alpha female is more of a state of mind than a physicality, an alpha understands that dressing up or sexy increases her power in society, so she does it. Alpha Females are often terribly misunderstood by Beta and lesser males, as evident by the other posts about Alpha Females, and when this happens, she's called a bitch, a cunt, or a whore ... Alpha Females prefer passion over romance...

This website also has some perspective on alpha/beta/omega males as well.

On researching alpha females, and what makes us what we are, there is frustratingly little research it seems, on the link between female aggressiveness and hormones. According to psychology researcher Steven Stanton in this article, "...estrogen is very behaviorally potent and is actually a close hormonal relative to testosterone. In female mammals, estrogen has been tied to dominance, but there has been scant research examining the behavioral roles of estrogen in women." Why is that? Is it because we're supposed to be sugar and spice and everything nice? Motherfucker I will cut you! I also found that this page on alpha dominance was quite interesting and had some good links.

Let's face it: I have more estrogen than you. I'm curvier, boobier, prettier, with shinier hair and sexual potency. And bitch, don't you even look in the direction of a man I might be interested in!

I may follow this up with something more anecdotal but I'm starting to lose steam after researching  those articles. Usually I have them queued up and ready before hand, but tonight I just sat to write.

Sorry guys!

I haven't had any new content up in a while and I'm really sorry about that. I am officially on medical leave from work and stressing hard about how I am going to pay bills. I do check my stats daily and I am beyond thrilled that I am being found by search engines and that there are more international readers popping in. Hello! Anyway, I have wonderful supportive friends who have been helping me through the emotional stress, including Foot Fetish Friend, but with the support comes TEH DRAMAZ ONOES! That, though, is a whole 'nother entry about my female dominance and my sheer and utter need to scratch a  couple girl's eyes out. We'll get to that another day.

My libido is still shit but a reader (and good friend in real life) sells adult products and set some samples to me in the mail so we'll see if those work to bring me back to life down below. Maybe I should get back into reading trashy romances? Hehehe...

Anyway, I just wanted to put a quick entry up and let you all know I'm not dead. Oh, and those of you who know me on FetLife: I haven't logged in in a while so if you've sent me messages I'm not ignoring you. Same with the email address for this blog.

The office slut

It was about a year ago that I first met Foot Fetish Friend. We met at work when we were on the same production/sales team at work. Our teams consist of two supervisors and then about 15 peons sitting in a horseshoe formation around the supervisor's desks. Foot Fetish Friend started our relationship by being two of the corner desks that faced each other, so we could communicate via the glass partition between us and some careful backwards writing. We soon became friends.

Anyone that knows me knows that I'm a pretty open book when it comes to my sexuality. Why should I hide it? Okay, so maybe it's not professional to talk about, but seriously, my sexuality was a lot milder than a lot of the conversations we all had that were definitely not "'HR appropriate." No one said anything to me so we all talked, I talked, Foot Fetish Friend and I talked (we were merely friends back then as he struggled in his epic fail of a relationship) and everyone seemed to get along. Seemed.

You see, no matter what masks people put on for the workplace, no one likes the office slut, regardless if she has actually done anything with a coworker or not. The men are intimidated by the confidence and the women are jealous of it. It wasn't until much later into the 6 month stretch of our time together as a team that Foot Fetish Friend told me that everyone on our team-- including the head supervisor-- had expressed a concern that I was paying too much attention to him and that they didn't want to see me ruin his relationship with his girlfriend. I was very upset when I found out. As I mentioned before, no one had said anything to me.

I certainly felt the ostracism though. No one came to my desk on breaks to chat except Foot Fetish Friend. The head supervisor moved everyone's desks around and put Foot Fetish Friend and I on opposite sides of the room. It was certainly shitty, to say the least.

Let's fast forward a little, to the last month or so that the team was together before we broke up and went to other teams. Foot Fetish Friend, after a lot of contemplation and talking it over finally broke it off for good with his girlfriend when he found her on a personals website. Poor guy at that point hadn't had sex in ages and was hungry. One day on our lunch break we snuck off to KFC for some popcorn chicken and the super tall snow banks in the parking lot. We didn't have sex, but as Borat would say, we had some "sexy times, yes."

Sex didn't actually come until the shift change. Foot Fetish Friend and three of our coworkers followed our old supervisor to her new shift. For a little while, since our lunches overlapped, I would sit with them at lunch, until it was clear I was being patently ignored. Again, they ganged up on him, until finally he confessed that yes, we had sex. (And yes, when I say they, I include the supervisor too, hateful bitch. I really wish I could have gotten her fired.) Their reactions? "Ew" and "I hope you used a condom!"

I may talk a big game, but did I ever give any indication that I was not clean, that I wasn't safe? No. I was really hurt and really, really angry. He defended me multiple times and shouldn't have had to. I'm not a bad person, but when you open yourself up, people will find the bad and overlook the good. Oh well. That particular supervisor doesn't work there any more (voluntarily, ugh) and of two of the individuals in question that backed Foot Fetish Friend in a corner, one seems... okay with it. Maybe it's because Foot Fetish Friend showed him a nude of me... ha!

So, before just judging the office slut, stop to think, there's a person in there. Now, if she's a skeezy skank of a person, ostracize away. But if she's a good person (and a good cook, cough) get to know her. She just might make you banana bread.

The first time I "stole" a man

I went browsing back through entries and it's been a little while since I did an "about me" entry. As I mentioned in this entry, I was a late bloomer. I did not have my first boyfriend until I was 22, in college. At this point, I was a part-time student, commuting, and spending a lot of time with my friends in the computer and anime club offices (which were adjacent, and I was an officer in both). I was in computer club that I met Hot Filipino.

Let me explain the dynamic of the club. I was one of two girls. Comparing me to the other girl was... like comparing a beautiful Friesian to a common pony. Yeah, a pony is cute but a Friesian has poise  and elegance and presence. While the other girl and I were friends-- and good friends-- there was always the Female Struggle for Dominance. So when we spotted Hot Filipino, our fangs and claws were out.

Hot Filipino was tall, thin, fucking cute and very shy. He joined computer club and we all became good friends. Pony Girl had the benefit of living on campus to have more face time with Hot Filipino, since I commuted and had to work in my hometown. But, as girls, we talked about boys, and she blatantly had a crush. We had the "you wouldn't go after a guy I was interested in, would you?" conversation one day to which I said "no!" We'll get back to that.

Time wore on and winter came. Pony Girl asked Hot Filipino out on a date, to see if they would work as a couple. They had a fun date, but decided to stay friends. She was cool with that. One day we three were goofing off in the office and we wrapped Hot Filipino in wrapping paper, and then went walking through town, the three of us holding hands, picking up our secret santa gifts for the party later on. The Christmas party with my friends was a blast and the person who got my name got me the gorgeous book I had been drooling over that was way over the set price limit for gifts. Pony Girl and I sat on either side of Hot Filipino, each holding his hand. The night wore on, the lights were off in the student center and in the office and we all sat around talking. After she let go, I kept holding Hot Filipino's hand.

Eventually we realized it was extremely late, and since there was a no sleeping in the office rule, we went to get the bag from my trunk that had a blanket and pillow (my mom insisted I have it in there) so that I could crash on Pony Girl's floor. It was far too late to drive 30 minutes home through dark, isolated farmland.

I think it was the next day that Hot Filipino asked me out. He told me he liked holding my hand, my laugh, how I showed my vulnerability in the discussions after the party. We met up and went to the movies. Like any relationship based on physical attraction, we made out a lot. For the record I was 22. Hot Filipino was the first boyfriend I mentioned at the start of this entry.

It's been several years, so I don't remember how everything went down 100%, but I broke the "no sleeping in the office rule" one night and Pony Girl stormed in and slammed the door, waking me up (bitch) and confronted me when everyone was gone. "Why did you lie to me?" she asked. "When did I lie?" I asked, confused. "About not going after someone I was interested in. You said you'd never do that, you lied!"

Ah. That.

We had a girl spat where I defended myself with "you had your chance and decided to be friends, he was fair game" and ended with her unfriending me on AIM, Livejournal, and sending me a breakup email. She always had a flair for the dramatic. In fact, she overreacted to everything all the time that everyone in our circle of friends had my side, and so did Hot Filipino.

Eventually Pony Girl and I made up and Hot Filipino and I broke up. We are all still friends (not as close any more, since we're all out of college and on our own paths now).

So there you have it. The first time I could officially be called a man stealer.

WHERE did my libido go?

I never wanted to be one of those frigid women, pushing my partner away when he approaches me for sex. I love sex! A few nights ago, knowing that my fwb has been frustrated due to lack of sex I grabbed him by the shirt and brought him into my room. He spanked me, fondled me, licked. Then told me I was dry as a bone.

What the hell has happened to me?

I haven't wanted sex in weeks. Yes, I'm stressed, yes, I'm dealing with chronic migraines and a lot of meds, but really, did I have to lose my libido too? I don't even get mentally horny any more. As the author if this blog and a very sexual person, I'm very, very frustrated.

Just, grrrrr.

An update on an update

So I wrote a few days ago that I got a "semi-hostile" response from the girlfriend in this post way back in May. She actually sent me another email apologizing for sounding rude and we've exchanged a couple of emails, gotten some issues out in the air, and are starting to get to know each other. It feels a lot better, communicating than just sitting on it and stewing and never knowing what might have happened. Just wanted to brief y'all on that, if anyone was wondering. I'm sure no one cares about me living on the brink of the poverty level and whining about how my migraines are ruining my quality of life. I've done enough of that lately. So... I'mma enjoy the rest of my microwave pizza (one of the Freschetta ones) and get ready for my Thursday bowling league. Ta.

My first lesbian experience

When I'm upset and restless, I sit down to write. I have struggled with depression since my teen years (never diagnosed until a couple of years ago) and during my depressive moments, I wrote, drew. Well kiddos, I'm having a shitty night (a fight with Number 1, if you must know) so I'mma fucking write.

My first lesbian experience was back in late February or March this year. Number 1 was living with me at the time because I couldn't let him sleep in his car. He asked me if his girlfriend could come over. There was a big fight about that. I don't trust women, and I certainly don't trust people I don't know in my home. After a blow up, I consented. It was an awkward meeting and I  was dealing with having to see someone I still loved with another woman. The lesbian encounter was his idea, like she and I would be sister wives or something.

Let me preface this by stating that I am very, very picky about the physical appearance of women. I want someone as pretty as me (vain, I know) with big tits. Tattoos and piercings are also a plus, so is intelligence. No, intelligence is a plus. I can look past physical appearance if there's a real connection.

But let's face it, kids. This was our second meeting ever and I was so not attracted to this girl. Didn't like the way she kissed (too wet, too much tongue... I hate tongue), she has small boobs, and bad skin. We were each other's firsts so we didn't know what we were doing and were awkwardly being directed into a more awkward 69 by Number 1. Naively, I assumed another woman would taste similar to me, like a lot of guys taste similar. She had a metallic taste that was undoubtedly the result of the heavy narcotics she was on for chronic pain and a misdiagnosis of cancer (misdiagnosis... wonderful, right?). We had our orgasms, and then thankfully Number 1 took over. And then I fucked things up by biting him hard on the shoulder while he was fucking me. Yes, I was trying to mark him.

Needless to say the night didn't end well and I woke up to hear them fucking on the couch. Which really irritated me and made me more jealous.

Hopefully some day I can find a pretty and experienced girl to play with.

Quick poll

I was thinking about a redesign, and I would like to make this blog mobile-friendly. For those of you that view the blog on a mobile phone, what type of OS browser do you use? Do you have difficulty viewing the format of the page and if so, what issues do you have? Any feedback would be amazing. Android users like myself may not have issues since the browsing experience is similar to to what you would see on a computer, but for you others, speak up! :)

Now that it's cooled down, I'm going for a walk around the neighborhood!

It's too hot!

May I just say, I was thrilled this morning to find that I now have two readers and a bunch of international hits on this blog. Just the other day I was thinking "is it worth it to keep writing? Is anyone reading?" but yes, yes you are and that's a boost that I needed. Thank you, readers! I also received a semi-hostile email from the girlfriend involved in this post when I attempted to extend an olive branch. Meh.

So what's new with me? I've been battling migraines and have therefore missed a lot of work this week, which blows. The bills are piling up and this blog unfortunately is a non-profit organization, like its author. *badun-chhhh* I've also been freaking out a little about applying for grad school. I got my BA in English in '05 (I actually think my university considered it a BS, weird) so I'm out of the academic loop. Pair that with not having kept in contact with any of my professors... well, I am a panicker. But my fears have been allayed and now I can relax in the sweltering heat and humidity in the nude and start getting my shit together.

I'm always looking for  things to write about and don't always have time to research so if anyone finds an interesting link or article shoot it my way.

Why you should read Playboy

Most people scoff when I and others say "I read Playboy for the articles." Yeah, it's a titty mag, but if you really sit down and look through an issue, you will find witty cartoons and very, very insightful, intelligent and provocative articles. Take the July issue with Crystal Harris (on newsstands now); there are two articles, hidden in the back of the issue, that immediately caught my attention and well, hit a little close to home.

Fight for your Rights by Christian Kahrl discusses the ongoing struggle of transgendered individuals in today's society. I went to what was unflatteringly referred to as the "gay school" in the UMaine system. Yes, there was a high population of gay, lesbian, and bi students (hello second floor of Scott Hall South!) and there were at least two transgendered individuals. One was a male to female individual and my first encounter with a transgendered individual. I knew her first as a man, the kind person who fixed my cable one day who then went on to complete hormone therapy, and a couple of years later, gender reassignment surgery. She and a female to make transgendered individual spoke to my human sexuality class one day, and MTF described herself as "the happiest person alive."

While the process of gender reassignment, from therapy to hormones to the actual surgery was detailed, I never knew the other struggles that would entail, until Kahrl's article opened my naive eyes. The difficulty transgendered individuals face in merely becoming individuals is astounding:  mounds of red tape in name changes, gender changes on birth certificates and social security, and overall discrimination. As Kahrl quite succinctly put it in the article: "Rights as citizens are only for those who can afford them." Thankfully, it seems that a branch of the CDC called the NCTE is looking to make changes to the difficulty transgendered individuals have in changing the gender on their birth certificates. I found that article via The National Center for Transgender Equality, should anyone be interested in their own research.

The second article in this month's Playboy that caught my attention was Old Fears by Jeff Krehely, concerning the rights and care of elderly LGBT individuals. We now have a demographic of LGBT senior citizens and again raises the concern of visitation and legal rights for couples who may have had a long-standing and monogamous relationship with their partner that is not legally recognized as a marriage because, gasp, while legal in many states, "the Defense of Marriage Act prevents the federal government from recognizing these unions." It is appalling that, should some day, as a bisexual individual, I end up sharing my end of days with a woman that she not be allowed the same rights to see me in the hospital if I was ill as an opposite sex partner would.

Also horrifying is the thought that elderly LGBT individuals receiving in-home care or residing in convalescent or retirement homes are suffering neglect and abuse by people that don't want to be seen as "gay" for holding a person's hand or bathing them, and worse are the tales of emotional abuse by fundamentalists who would read Bible quotes to their patients. The most horrifying account in the article was of "a transgender woman with Alzheimer's disease at a long-term care facility whose staff refused to respect the woman's gender identity. 'Instead, they would dress her in men's clothing-- a daily occurrence  that was increasingly distressing for a woman already struggling with day-to-day cognitive functioning.'"

If that was my relative, I would be fucking livid and not only would I pull them from the facility, the facility would see themselves hit with a hefty lawsuit as well. My paternal grandmother had Alzheimer's before she passed, and had in-home care. While she was not transgendered or lesbian, she was vegetarian. One of her caretakers tried to feed her meat once. Grammie had been vegetarian since she was a young girl, and even with Alzheimer's, still maintained that lifestyle. While I personally don't think vegetarianism is a healthy lifestyle, far be it for me to pass judgment and impose my ideals on someone assuming that they no longer have any sort of independent thought.

Kudos to Hugh Hefner and his publication for presenting articles that are truly important and thought-provoking. If only society could get over themselves and buy and issue or two and really read the articles, maybe more social change could happen.

Also for your reading pleasure: the PFLAG website

Frustrations

I rarely have erotic dreams and I've had two back-to-back this week. Mine aren't very enjoyable, I never climax in them. To add to the frustration I haven't been in the mood at all lately. I've actually been in a slump. Meh.

Entrapment

A few nights ago Number 1 called me after one of his girlfriend's many hormone therapy-induced freakouts. She doesn't trust him and I think she's crossed a line, we just have no proof of this but some strong suspicion.

A few days ago he received a text message from a number he did not recognize from someone stating she's had a crush on him for a long time, ever since he told her "nice ass" (ladies, don't feel flattered, he says that to everyone). He asked her if she had a Facebook page because he couldn't think of who it could be. She told him "no, but I can make one for you." He got a link to a freshly made Facebook page with a senior portrait-esque profile picture. He started to get suspicious, especially when this person he did not know asked to be his girlfriend. One night he was home, playing video games, apparently texting this mystery person, still trying to figure out who it was when his girlfriend texted him.

Her: who you talking to?
Him: No one
Her: I know you're talking to someone!

She then freaked out and threatened to kill herself (again). He had to go to her town where she lives and find her and talk her down and burn gas he doesn't have the money for.

It's all a little suspicious to me.

Have any of you seen Chloe? Basic premise is a woman suspects her husband is cheating so she hires a prostitute to tempt him to see if he takes the bait to find out if he really is unfaithful to her. There's more to the movie than that and I won't give it away because it's a really good film, but you get the gist.

And the hot streak fizzles

I had a hot streak of posts and it kind of fizzled out with the holiday and the migraines and all. I had an article queued up in a tab to write about, but when I read it I realized it was not very good fodder for an entry. Fear not, though; there's an article in the July Playboy that looks promising, I just haven't felt well enough to sit and read, let alone string together a coherent thought. No migraine today so we'll see what happens after bowling.

I broached the topic of kink with my Foot Fetish Friend the other night after a really hard fuck (one of those where I didn't care if I had an orgasm or not, I just needed to be pounded). I found it difficult to start the conversation, because after all, you don't just walk up to someone and  say "hello, are you a Dom or a Sub? Do you like whips?" So yeah. We're exploring that territory tentatively and I encouraged him to set up a FetLife account (although he said he didn't want to invade on my "thing" whatever that is).

Just a PSA

Here's your public service announcement, because I get annoyed easily:

1. No, I don't want to meet up
2. Unless I know you, I won't add you on FetLife (if you find me) and am not open to meeting strangers for coffee. Want to be on my friends list? Send a message and chat me up first
3. Not a whore for hire
4. No, I'm not looking for anyone

Entries on more academic subjects to come later. Peace.

The disadvantage of black sheets...

... Is how visible the cum stains are. Le sigh.

I have a friend with benefits that I've been seeing regularly. Very enthusiastic about oral. Which makes me think... People seem to be all for oral sex or are completely against it. Why of that? I personally love sucking cock. I like the way it feels, like how I can elicit a huge response with a little flick of the tongue. But a lot of women to see it as a chore. In my limited experience, men seem to be much more enthusiastic about oral sex. In fact, of the partners I've had, only one said "no. I don't DO that." Granted, he's young and never tried, but come on! My motto is "don't knock it until you try it."

A mouth on genitals is a whole different experience than hands or even your partner's bits. Giving pleasure to my partner is important, and an enthusiastic mouth in my crotch is rewarded.

Maybe oral is just one of those things that sex partners are afraid to discuss? We are, after all, trained as a society to find our genitals ugly, dirty, and sinful.

Needless to say I had a good night tonight. Notwithstanding, I am having a characteristic bout of insomnia which finds me here, posting from my phone. So. Discuss. Any good articles about oral sex? Anyone? Beuller?

Learning how to be good

Recently made a connection with a man who is a dom in the BDSM community. Had great conversation and had some of my questions answered (and I always have more). I'm defined as a switch but being submissive is a challenge for me. Perhaps I'll find a good dom  to teach me more.

After a slew of entries I dried up a bit. Sorry everyone. I've been hit hard with migraines this week and trying different meds to get them under control. I'm not too coherent when I'm in pain. But man, have I gotten good at bejeweled and gotten caught up on this season of Keeping up with the Kardashians.

Is THAT what the kids are calling it these days?

So there are a lot of ways to say "having sex". Even more than when I was a kid. So why is it so hard for us to use a simple, monosyllabic word that originated from Anglo-Saxon language? A lot of our fun words come from that language, so why is S-E-X so hard for people to say? We use fun euphemisms and crude hand gestures (I'm not knocking them; I'm one of the first people to throw up a crude gesture in any conversation) but rarely say the word. Why is that?

Back in my day... Hmm. Well wait a minute. "Sex" isn't a word I ever heard at home. In fact, I had to learn about sex from HBO. Not that my parents were negligent but perhaps it was that I was such an introvert that they never bothered. I was a smart kid and always watching documentaries and reading books. Sex was just not a topic that was discussed, either with proper terms or euphemisms. All I knew growing up is that my sister's boyfriend-- while living with us-- was heavily discouraged from sleeping in her room with her and that my Nana really didn't want my cousin sharing a bedroom with her girlfriend when they visited. Happy oblivion.

Now I'm all grown up and have no problem talking about sex, so it begs the question: why isn't everyone else? We're all adults, right? I would like to blame Christianity for this one. Okay, so they're an easy scapegoat, but really. Judeo-Christian dogma has, for centuries, deemed sex to be a sin unless for the express purpose of producing children, Thank you, no. I found this little snippet from this website quite interesting:

Those who believed the lie and chose the anti-sexual body-rejecting path to perfection soon found the Biblical account of Adam and Eve frolicking naked and unashamed through the Garden ( Genesis 2:25 ) a rather embarrassing quirk in the religious record that needed to be explained away. Hence, Adam's expulsion from the Garden was taken to mean that he had been booted out for having had sex with Eve [8], who was portrayed as an evil sexual seductress who caused the curse to fall upon an otherwise perfect man. Sex, therefore, was to be viewed as part of the curse, the evil deed that got man into trouble; and woman was responsible.

 Is that why we just can't talk about sex in plain words? It has been so deeply ingrained that it is evil and dirty and unmentionable. I also think the hesitation to talk about sex openly comes from people's fear of opening up and risking judgment from their peers. Sex is an incredibly intimate and personal act, and to open up about something that personal leaves a certain vulnerability for those who would otherwise label and judge. There's also kink factor; what other people enjoy is often seen as taboo by others. Shit, look at this blog. There's a whole lot of taboo on these pages. But I am comfortable enough to talk about it.

So, with that said, I leave you with a song from my childhood (1991, really? Jesus, I'm getting old).

Why sexuality education is important

I took a human sexuality class in college as an elective. On the first day of class I told my professor "I wish I had been given this at the onset of puberty." Let's face it, when we get our sex ed in school, it is very basic: girls learn about their periods in a very sterile, sunshine-and-rainbows way, and boys... what did the boys learn? See, when I was in school, what the other gender learned was a mystery. I didn't even know how babies were made and through a lot of my pubescence thought women got pregnant from heavy kissing. After all, that's what happened on TV, right? Here's what I remember about sex ed, in a nutshell: remember your pituitary gland and girls write letters to their friends about their periods and sanitary products.

That's it. I had no idea what a penis was or what one looked like. Had no idea about sex or pregnancy. Nothing. And it's no surprise how many girls in my graduating class ended up pregnant or with kids by the end of high school. Hell, a girl in my 8th grade class had an abortion and that was scandalous (but then again this was in the 1990's). We did all kinds of projects about STD's and AIDS in junior high and high school, but I don;t think we really knew really, the importance or significance of these things in our lives, but boy howdy, did we know every STD that ever sprouted on a person's genitals.

Listen, people, sex and sexuality education is important. I had no idea, growing up, that it was okay to be a sexual person, that masturbation was okay, and  the youngsters these days are set up even more for failure with abstinence-only education and the battle over condoms being handed out in school. Little girls are getting pregnant younger and younger. Both girls and boys struggle with sexual identity in a world where there are no "safe spaces" set up for them to do so. There are so few educators and outreach people that are there to provide safe, nurturing, educational environments for these kids and it's sad, especially in very rural areas where you  can often find that what is considered a societal norm in sexuality is a mindset that is decades in the past.

My foot fetish friend said tonight that this blog is becoming something real. I hope so. This is not just about cheating and affairs, this is an expression of myself, my sexuality, a candid look into an otherwise normal person's life in the effort to reach out to others, touch others, encourage discussion and hopefully stimulate conversation about healthy sexual relationships and interactions. If I can affect one person only, then I've made a difference.

And, if you haven't clicked any of the blogs I've been following, please please read the Sexademic's Troubled Teen Survivor Story. The link will bring you to part one. It is eye-opening and terrifying at once. It was incredibly brave to write about such a traumatizing past, and has inspired me to be much more open and candid.

College IS for discovery, right?

I went to a college only 30 minutes from home. Naive to the ways of things, I thought that my new roommate, whom I shall call Butterfly (and if she reads this, ever, will know right away this is about her and who is writing it) was simply awesome. We had everything in common, and she came into the arrangement with a 30" TV and 3 gaming consoles. We had the biggest TV in our all-girl dorm. We were in geek heaven, between our electronics and books and posters and constant watching of sci-fi. We made cool friends and all hung out together (except, when they went to smoke pot I stayed in the room. Only once did I "walk" with them and it was terribly awkward).

Upstairs on the third floor lived a girl whom I shall call Army K. She was roommates with Sudbury K, who had incidentally gone to high school with Butterfly. Army K was very openly lesbian. In fact, when I questioned what a dental dam was, she whipped one out of her drawer and demonstrated on an imaginary vagina. Okay, then. She was short and loud but very, very out. I had gay friends back home but I had never met someone that was bordering on militant.

Fall semester went on. My sponge-like mind was filled with knowledge and new experiences and thoughts and ideas. I met new people, learned about their experiences. And then one by one the lesbians came. One night Army K and Sudbury K cornered Butterfly and said "are you a lesbian?" Now, Butterfly had a boyfriend. This wasn't questioned before. Without answering, Butterfly came back down to our room and locked herself in. Fancy that, I didn't have my key. She wouldn't answer when the others knocked but I eventually was let in (it was my room too, after all).

That night, in the dark as we lay in our respective beds on either side of the room, she finally came out. It really bothered her that the others were so in her face about it. It was a turmoil she struggled with. She entrusted the first outing to me. I paid her in kind. It was then that I confessed that I was bisexual, and had really come to realize it after a lot of thought after she had asked one night, "would you ever kiss a girl?" to which I unwaveringly and unhesitatingly said "yes.'

Now, I know what you're thinking, gentle readers, that this was a dream come true for two newly non-heterosexual females, but alas, it was not. I went home every weekend, being the homebody that I am, and over that first weekend, Butterfly met a girl at a party, and started dating her right away. I did not like this girl, and yes, I was jealous. I was madly in crush with Butterfly. I would passive-aggressively misspell her girlfriend's name, belittle her, make sniping comments, and write lovelorn poetry. One day, Butterfly sat next to me on my bed, held my hand, and let me cry out my feelings on her shoulder. So there you have it. My first girl crush.

I've since gotten over it, and we are still friends, although we don't talk as much as we used to, mainly, I think, due to location. She's working on her doctorate and is in a committed relationship to a really sweet and intelligent girl. And I? Well, I'm doing my thing. I really should message her on facebook and see if her number is still the same...

Oh look, it's 3am again...

I've been gathering research materials for another soapbox post. I just need to read it over and formulate my thoughts on it before writing. I've been getting good feedback about this blog. If there is a topic anyone wants broached, or a question to be asked, please, leave a comment or email me at slutyouneverknew@gmail.com . I would like very much to write a blog people enjoy reading. Sexuality is something people huff and puff about but so rarely talk about so earnestly  and openly, so let's build dialogue, shall we? And with that thought, I just thought of another "background" entry I could write. Maybe I'll write up entries in bulk to have more consistency in posting. Hmmm... now there's a thought...

I'm Batman! Or, What is the Norm?

Last Friday I had an amazing luncheon with one of my few readers that knows my true identity, kind of like how Alfred knows Bruce Wayne is really Batman. While discussing graduate school programs over baked brie, pondering my future as a public health worker, she mentioned that in this blog, I  don't talk much about myself as a person. She used some sort of fancy word from philosophy to describe how I should approach it, however, it being almost a week ago and I having the memory capacity of a Post-It note, am going to have to wing it.

Growing up, I don't think anyone would have pegged me for what  Cosmo charmingly called a "super predator" author of this blog. I grew up in a lower middle class family in Maine, which in and of itself is a mostly rural area. My siblings are all vastly older than me so growing up was a lot like being an only child. I was (and still am) very imaginative, was always a good student, but very introverted and shy.

I was a good student, and started amassing a large collection of books very young. I was a kid that loved to read and was inspired by music, art, and literature, when most of my friends were obsessed with New Kids on the Block, I, well, I was too, but I was also obsessed with Rachmaninoff and Bach (still obsessed with Bach). My parents were not terribly cultured, although it was my Mom's piano classics tape I got hold of and never gave back. It was also watching my Mom reading all the time that really encouraged my own love of books.

So, let's fast forward to the high school years. Dun-dun-dunnnn. I was self-conscious about my body. I wore bras that were too small to bind down my breasts that were rapidly getting bigger and bigger. I wore baggy clothes to cover them. I had horrible acne and hated (still do) washing my hair. I had my core group of friends and was by no means popular. I hung out with the other middle class kids, envied the kids with money with silent loathing, and shunned the poorer kids, the white trash, as it were. I had close guy friends but no boyfriends. By the time I graduated high school (with honors, mind you) I had never been kissed or even groped by a guy.

We, as a society, have preconceived notions about nature vs. nurture, especially when dealing with sexuality. I wasn't abused, I had a happy childhood, and while my family wasn't an excessively hugging family, I don't have a daddy complex. I didn't even lose my virginity until I was 27.  I'm intelligent, still quite introverted, and am as likely to be seen thumping down the road in my car with a Maria Callas CD in my stereo as a Tool album. I still live in what I affectionately refer to as The Rural-- Central Maine-- and work for a thankless evil big telecommunications company.

So, where do I fit in the stereotypes? I don't.

Spankings

I haven't played with a taken guy in a while, but I have been playing with my foot fetish friend (alliteration, yay) a lot lately. Last might he came over for dinner and tv (i like getting people addicted to tv shows. Last night it was "Dead Like Me") and I invited him to stay over because it was really late. I woke up to cuddles and his hands wandering all over my body.

We started with a fingering but I dried up mid-way so I gave him a hand job and offered to let him cum on my ass. I'm not sure when the spanking started but he has HUGE hands which are great for spanking. He had me begging for more, and then begging for his cock. Rawr. What a good start to the morning.

With the girls

Talking to my older sister and my 21 and 19 year old nieces in our hotel room after our sailing trip reveals that i've had the most partners and the most kink. But we are laughing so much!

Size Queen

Now, I'm a "size queen," I like big cocks and I like big tits. But sometimes, a big cock can be at a disadvantage. Case in point: anal. I do not enjoy anal with a huge cock. Maybe I'm a bit of a wimp but I'm too focused on the pain and can't enjoy a huge cock in my ass as much.

Last night my shoe fetish friend stopped by and before I knew it I was on my knees in my (overly hot) bedroom getting pounded in the ass from a guy who is average in size. And hot damn, between the scratching and biting and fucking, it was good. He whipped out his phone after and took some hot pictures. Rawr. My favorite one shows my face so, alas, it shall not appear here. Too bad, my tits look fantastic in it, too.

A little BDSM quiz

Quiz is here

You Scored as Switch
(((Note: This quiz is not totally comprehensive because of the length such a quiz would be. I kept it sex-based because I felt that psychological profiles and motivations were too complicated and vary too greatly among people that practice BDSM.))) You know what you want but it has nothing to do with your own role in the bedroom. You have the ability to be flexible in that area which can be useful for exploring you sexuality with your partner.

Switch

93%

Exhibitionist / Voyeur

93%

Experimental

79%

Sadist

57%

Dominant

54%

Masochist

50%

Bondage

50%

Submissive

39%

Degradation Lover

25%

Vanilla

25%

The start and dissolution of a friendship through sex

I'm going to elucidate a bit on the entries that I put up here and here, and it probably won't be pretty. I'm going to copy/paste the emails I received, but as always, names will be omitted. For the sake of this, I am going to change my friend's name to Bondage Friend, capice?

To give a little back story to this whole thing, I met Bondage Friend on World of Warcraft. I was Horde, he was Alliance, but I met him through my best friend. A whole group of awesome guys, actually. We all chatted, joked, and eventually they all came over to the dark side and played Horde with me. We Facebooked, and it progressed to texting. Because I am a very sexual person (and let's admit it, geeks are perverts) conversation turned toward sexuality and exploring it. He revealed to me that he's a dom (dominant, for teh newbs) and thought I could learn and expand on my sexuality. We talked a lot. I was curious, asked questions.

Ready to take my curiosity to the next level, we got on Ventrilo (a communication program for in-game conversation, again, for teh newbs) to "play." I had my beloved glass dildo and a package of clothes pins handy, and was willing to submit. He guided me, telling me where to put the clothes pins, starting with my nipples. He had me ease my glass dildo anally. I sent him pictures with my phone as we went. Soon, I had clothes pins springing from my labia and circling my breasts. I was very close to orgasm but then the pain in my left nipple started to overwhelm me (the skin has been broken there from one too many aggressive bites) and I started to panic a little. Gently, he guided me to removal, which hurt much, much worse. I hobbled to the kitchen for ice and cried and screamed but I got them off. He talked me down, and once I had taken some breaths, he told me I had done well, and if I had finished the adrenaline would have taken care of the pain. Ah, hindsight. To this day I am still a little afraid of clothes pins.

Time went on an he bought me a web cam, but sadly the only thing we used it for was for him to show me just how good he is at giving his roommate a blow job. Which was hot. Damn. We continued to talk, I told him of my sexual escapades. We got very close. Then he mentioned coming to visit, to see if a relationship would work. Me being me, I told him "You don't want a relationship with me, I'm emotionally unavailable." Fearing the thought of someone getting close, I ran. Yes folks, your intrepid Other Woman is a coward.

As time passed, I helped him with his writing assignments in college (I've got to use my English degree somewhere, after all) and he told me, as we communicated, that I would probably like flogging and that he would take some classes in it before coming up for my best friend's wedding. I was excited! I love spankings and mild pain and this seemed right up my alley. One evening, while doing an on-the-fly paper editing over the phone, he casually mentioned that his girlfriend had been helping him with his assignments when I mentioned that the quality of his writing was improving. This gave me pause, because in our conversations, he had never once mentioned that he had met someone. I questioned this, and asked if all  the plans were off for the week of the wedding. He assured me that she understood what would happen when he got here. I don't mind being the Other Woman, but I want to know I am. I don't appreciate deception.

I already described what happened the night of the encounter in this post so I won't reiterate. Now for the fun stuff. The Shit Storm (tm). After he left (and forgot his phone at the hotel, wtf) I emailed him because I hadn't heard from him at all. I was worried. He was having kidney problems. Here is what I got as a response:

At this time I am needing to break off all contact you, beacuse of my decision to have sex with you.  I do thank you for the help you provided for me, in my english class.  If you still want to contact me, you will have to do so through my girlfriend [name omitted].  She can be reached at [girlfriend's email]

 Wow. That night I was so mad that I walked a good 5 miles in anger, texting Bondage Friend's roommate the whole time for information, venting, raging. When I calmed down a little, I emailed back:

I have no confidence that you will actually see this message but since this is my only option, I have no choice. I am hurt and offended and angry. I feel as though our friendship has been cast aside with no consideration for my feelings. I get a very cold, 2-line email from you with no explanation or option for 2-way dialogue whatsoever. I have immense respect and admiration and trust (shit, I let you see me cry for christsakes) for you and to be cast aside so easily without any honest explanation is, quite frankly, bullshit. I wish you would have an open dialogue with me, at least, so we can get everything out on the table. I am still willing to help you  with your comp2 stuff when need be. I don't abandon so easily. When you get your phone back, call. Email, text, vent, whatever.

 To which I got an email reply from his girlfriend, not from him:

I will pass this email to Bondage Friend. Bondage Friend and I have an agreement when it comes to the mess that happened while he was in Maine. I gave him the option of telling you whatever he wanted as a reason for no longer contacting you, including that I was being a demanding, jealous bitch. That I was hurt so badly by the man I love, he was surprised that I simply didn't just walk away. He will also be getting a copy of what I send to you. If he decides to send an email further explaining just -why- he has cut off communication with you is really up to him. I will agree to him sending one. If he doesn't send one explaining more, that's his decision. And, he let me read what he sent you, which I did not require. He stated very bluntly that it was because of his decision to have sex with you that he was cutting off ties. While this is not an in depth explanation, you can't say that there was -no- explanation. When I told him what he had to do in order to stay with me (which is a demand I have -never- made in my life and never thought I would), he didn't balk or try to negotiate. I'm not saying this to hurt you, I am merely stating what happened. To be honest, I was shocked that he agreed so readily.

 I did not respond back. I'm toying with it. I also did not get a response back from Bondage Friend. So there you have it kiddos. Make sure in all things sexual and interpersonal that clear lines are drawn and defined and that dialogue is always clear and concise. It really is a pity I had to lose such a good friend after all that, after all, his rope work was spectacular.

Just put me out to pasture

Got home from the ER about an hour ago with a diagnosis of hip bursitis. No sex for me for a while, although the doctor said I have good range of motion in the joint. Maybe as I languish in agony I'll go a little bit deeper into when the shit hit the fan last week. We'll see. Things might start changing around here.

A note on open relationships and partner agreements

 If you and your partner have an open relationship or make agreements about out-of-relationship sex/play, make sure the third party is aware fully of the agreements and terms before getting them involved.

Real life scenario (that happened to me)

friend: so my girlfriend bla bla bla...
me: wait, girlfriend? Does this mean we don't get to play when you get here?
friend: she knows about you and what will happen
me: (thinking everything is hunky-dorey) okay, good
friend and me: *giggity*
friend's gf: RAAR RAAR HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TALK TO YOU ANY MORE

So yes, gentle readers, apparently their agreement and the agreement I knew of wasn't the same, hence I have lost a good friend. Boy, do I feel maligned and jilted and really, really pissed off.

Repercussions

As exemplified over and over, this lifestyle has repercussions which sometimes result in the loss of friendship. I feel pretty wounded and hurt and abandoned.

A foray into bondage

A week ago, my best friend got married. I was the hot maid of honor. There were plenty of men that could have had me, but I was focused on one: a friend who had come from out of state for the wedding, a dom active in the BDSM lifestyle. I handed him my car key before I started knocking back cosmos and told him  "you're my designated driver." I'd had some concerns that he was going to have a change of heart since I found out he has a girlfriend back home, but I guess they talked about it and knew what he would be doing.

Like a gentleman he helped me out of my many bobby pins and my dress (which to my dismay has a stain from a maraschino cherry on it) and started to build a harness around my torso out of soft, red rope. I have to say, while snug, it was quite comfortable. Once finished with the torso harness he took my leg in hand and made another harness above my knee and tied it to my torso, and likewise with the other, until I was in the perfect formation for doggy-style. Or, flogging.

Face-down on one of my jacquard pillow cases, I couldn't see what was happening. He took my glass dildo and slid it in my ass, then, there was a soft whump and I felt something on my legs. He started soft, flogging my thighs, my backside, progressing in strength, aiming for the dildo. It was intense. I remember backing up for more, clawing at the sheets.

The sex itself was brief due to me having a bruised tailbone (yay clumsiness) and he having just had surgery. I hope to eventually play again.

Just a quickie

Between the hectic week of my best friend's wedding, having friends up from out of state to visit and then getting a two-day migraine I have been remiss in updating. I will post more later, including my first real foray into BDSM. I just wanted to say I appreciate my readers and thank you for still checking in to see if there are updates. More to come.

Aw, thanks!

Wow, I've gotten some really wonderful words of kindness and support over my last post, and I appreciate it. Thank you, all! :)

I woke up today to a text message from The Business Partner because I hadn't been by the shop lately, and apparently my presence  (or my boobs) was missed. So we flirted via text, sent him some pictures. He is a mountain of a man; I seem to only go for the ones that are much taller than me, haha. I'm not sure if something will come out of it but we'll see. As I mentioned before, he and his wife are in a nonmonogamous relationship. Maybe I'll wait until he re-pierces his cock...

Speaking of cock, my best friend is getting married next week (next week?! Shit... I really need to find a handbag and clean my makeup brushes and check on my dress...) and I will be the hot maid of honor. I have at least one boy lined up, we've been planning since the wedding was announced, and he lives in the BDSM lifestyle. There may be some interesting posts the week of the wedding... :)

Vulnerability

A few days ago, Number 1 invited me to come over after work on Saturday night (that would be yesterday) for a threesome with his girlfriend. I was pleasantly surprised with the presence of a video camera (there's another off my bucket list).   It was a pretty routine three-way for us... a blow job, she and I ate each other out, another blow job, then he'd alternate fucking us. Another first was sitting on the girlfriend's face. Number 1 told me later he had intended his girlfriend to sit on me, to dominate me. I laughed and looked at her and said "I  think we all know I'm the alpha female in this bed."

After we were done and I had made him a sandwich (because of stress and lack of money, he hadn't been eating) I curled up on the foot of the bed and asked if it was bed time. "You have a half hour drive ahead of you' he said.

Wait, what?

Yes, as I have mentioned before, this lifestyle is very lonely. I have been craving affection, a simple cuddle, and the only man I invest emotions in sends me on my way. It is a measure of comfort having the anonymity of the Internet that I show any vulnerability. I cried the entire way home, cried myself to sleep, cried this afternoon when I woke up. The truth is,  I am lonely. Sex is nice and all, but sometimes I want something as simple as to be held, for someone to pay attention to me when we're not fucking.

My problem? I am far too honest about my lifestyle. One that I would trust for a relationship of any kind does not trust me, because he knows me. Bah.

We all have our off days.

It's just a little blood!

I was thankfully not stricken with insomnia again, so I was up and awake and naked on my bed when my married booty  call arrived. I was laying half on my side and half on my stomach (yeah yeah, I was playing games on my phone) when he came in. He fingered me quite vigorously (gave me the shocker too) and then said "you're bleeding."

For a little back story, I lost my virginity at 27, and bled like a pig the first  few times. Bled enough that I ruined a mattress and had my blood clotting time tested. I eventually grew out of it. But men, the vagina is a delicate environment. Please cut your nails.

Because of a little blood, we had anal sex. He's small enough that it didn't bother me, but really? Anal because of a little blood when he had once said that fucking me on my period, when there's a lot more blood, would be good because then he couldn't get me pregnant. Bah. Not that that's a concern, anyway.

But really, what is this squeamishness? Now, I understand not every guy is into period sex. It's very messy and let's face it, it's a little odd to fuck something that bleeds for 7 days and doesn't die (I totally stole that line from Family Guy). But a little blood from rough-housing when you're both clean? No excuse not to fuck me silly. So unfulfilled. *sad face*

I will, however, get lovings and cuddles from my two 3-way partners tomorrow night after work. Booty at 1am is so worth it when I know I'll get what I need.

Over-sleeping

First off: HOLY SHIT. I logged in to see more page views in one day than I ever have. Amazing! Even if someone comes across the picture in a Google search it means that I'm becoming more easily accessible. My hope is that the ones that visit accidentally hang out a while and read. :)

Since I had some pretty bad insomnia last night I spent the night scouring ye olde Interwebnet for interesting things to read. Looked for more foot fetish stuff, played about on FetLife (hi FetLife readers!) found another really good article about slut shaming and also read up on the foods I should be eating (gotta be healthy, you know).

Insomnia, however, is a bitch. I ended up having to cancel my rendezvous this morning. I don't like morning booty calls so much but when they're married and that's their lunch hour, you kind of have to go on their schedule. Hopefully I'll sleep tonight and can reschedule for tomorrow. One fun thing about insomnia is I helped talk my friend off into cumming about three times last night via text. Always one to help a friend.

Shoe Fetish

I stumbled across the Shoe Fetish Blog the other day when I was looking into shoe fetishes (duh). I'd love to market on all the shoes I own. Does anyone know how to get into foot fetish modeling?

Rendezvous

While making plans via text today with one of my married men I was thinking, maybe I should go through a few steps of the business transaction with him again to see if his reasons for coming to my bed have changed. He says his wife is hot and that he does have remorse for our sexual encounters (which I'm not sure I entirely believe). Perhaps I am being paranoid. I have trust issues (which have been exacerbated lately) and am finding that I am constantly questioning people's motives. In any case I should just stop my worrying and enjoy the oral i've been promised for lunch tomorrow.

Just a taste

Figured I'd spice things up with a little teaser pic. Same corset I'm wearing for my profile pic but taken long before... Were I to take a picture now you'd see my tattoo through the mesh.

I'm not a groupie!

I like to frequent one of the local  tattoo shops because, aside from being fascinated with the ancient practice of tattooing and it's cultural significance/tabooness, I enjoy talking to my Tattoo Artist and his Business Partner. Sometimes I bring them coffee, and I've discussed cooking them lunch some time since they are becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the quality of local take out. Anyway, last Friday I met Business Partner's Wife. She was very blunt and real; not getting along with many women, I appreciated her and started chatting her up on Facebook. Just for some back story, Tattoo Artist and Business Partner have both propositioned me, which at this point has gone no farther than some flirting and nude picture messages.

Business Partner and his Wife (heretofore they shall be known) are swingers. A consensual, non-monogamous couple. Rare these days. I was chatting with Wife last night about their relationship and about my sexuality, being The Other Woman. What she called me took me by surprised: she called me a groupie. My first response, being a child of the '80's and hair bands was "eeew!" But she defined it as a woman who goes after another woman's man. Interesting. I linked her to The Business Transaction for my side of it. Anyway, we'll see how this goes. I do want to play...

Oh, it's Earth Day kiddos. I plan on doing some digging in the dirt to get my garden started. Get off your computer and do something nice for the environment today!

I am a geek, after all

I did go searching for a documentary  on cheating and found one that seemed to be fairly well-received. It's called "Loving and Cheating" and is available for streaming on Netflix. While interesting, it was not nearly as... Sciencey as I was hoping. I was pleased to see Dan Savage as one of the experts. There was a nice representation of very strictly monogamous couples and couples in open relationships and discussion on how they've handled cheating in their relationships.

One of the questions posed was: if you cheat should you tell? My gut reaction to this is no, but then again, I was cheated on, and would probably be less resentful for not knowing. He hid it well but made the mistake of sharing his passwords with me. So, if you cheat, don't tell, and don't leave a paper trail. Or make a private email that only your lover knows about and have him or her send stuff to you there.

I'm still looking for more documentaries so if anyone knows of any that are a little more scientific, drop me a line here. For now I'm signing off for some old school Batman and snuggles with the cat.

Until next time

I'm not dead... yet

Sorry I've been absent loyal readers, I've had some health issues going on recently and just haven't had the energy or the brainmeats to post (at least nothing coherent). I've been looking for some good documentaries on sexuality and cheating, does anyone know of any?

Good reads

I've become ridiculously addicted to Dan Savage's column "Savage Love" to the point that I'm constantly refreshing the app on my phone, desperately hoping that I'll get a two-fer. Alas, no such luck. However, I have come across some great reads on sexuality lately and I'm thinking of setting up some sort of index or side bar for links. Education is the key, kiddos.

Support Systems

When I first started in on my foray of being the Other Woman, I was awkward, unsure of myself. Like any self-respecting geek, I first turned to the Internet for support. I had an image in my head of the high-class Other Woman, wearing pearls and having fabulous secret luncheons, being cherished and put upon a secret pedestal. Oh, how wrong I was. It was a nice fantasy anyway, and I much prefer diamonds. Scouring the Internet for others like me, I found forums for those who were looking for idealized relationships with the person they were the other woman (or other man) with. Holding out for the day that their lover would leave their spouse and they could ride off into the sunset, tra-la, tra-la.

This was not the type of support I was looking for. I came to the realization that really, being the Other Woman is a lonely existence. It's getting up early and driving to the next town for a booty call, secret texts, yearning and hurt. And you have no one to confide in, because what is your family going to say, other than "what the fuck are you doing?" Bragging is the first step in messing things up, because eventually it will get back to the girlfriend/wife and then you're screwed. Even more so if emotions are involved.

If anyone finds a support forum with people other than wishy-washy hopeless romantics, let me know.

Slut Shaming and Girl Guilt, two new phrases I've recently come across

Browsing Facebook on my phone one evening I came across The Sexademic's blog on girl guilt linked by a friend. Fascinated, I popped on my wi-fi and read from the snuggly comfort of my bed. Being someone who is ridiculously comfortable with her sexuality, feeling guilty after an encounter never really crossed my mind. It made me think, though, of the double-standard that is omnipresent in our society:  women are not allowed to be sexual beings in their own right, only if it serves the purpose to titillate others, and even then, they are looked down upon as sluts, whores, and loose women.

Whoa! The man-stealer, the super predator is going hardcore feminist? Fear not, but there are important issues that need to be addressed. We are far too advanced a society to to keep living under antiquated, patriarchal rules about gender roles. We've made so many strides in the acceptance of the sexuality of others (I know, I know, my US readers, we still have many strides to make) and women still have to feel ashamed to have sex? Horseshit, I say. But it is an unfortunate truth, and The Sexademic states it so eloquently:

But in a culture that legitimizes disrespect to females having sex outside of a committed relationship, how can it? I wish I could say the blatant hypocrisy of a male passing judgment on a female he slept with was enough to erase some sense of girl guilt, but when the larger culture agrees how can those actions not still sting?

So what is slut shaming? According to Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog, slut shaming is:

the idea of shaming and/or attacking a woman or a girl for being sexual, having one or more sexual partners, acknowledging sexual feelings, and/or acting on sexual feelings. Furthermore, it’s “about the implication that if a woman has sex that traditional society disapproves of, she should feel guilty and inferior” (Alon Levy, Slut Shaming). It is damaging not only to the girls and women targeted, but to women in general an society as a whole. It should be noted that slut-shaming can occur even if the term “slut” itself is not used.

After reading the anecdotal section of The Sexademic's post on girl guilt, I remember my days in school, where girls who showed any self confidence and sexuality were immediately called sluts, even if they barely knew what sex was. The boys though, were allowed to express their sexual prowess. It makes me wonder, though, if girls are automatically labeled and shunned as sluts because of earlier maturation. Has biology, in and of itself, shamed us?

So why do I call myself The Slut You Never Knew? Most people that know me in real life, know me as a somewhat shy woman who wears low-cut shirts to show off her ta-tas and may flirt a little, but is hopelessly in love with Number 1. Most people in my life don't know that I hunt and prey on the dissatisfied married man, therefore I am the unsuspecting slut, the surprise in the cereal box of sexuality. I use it not as a negative term, but as an easily identifiable adjective to facilitate the understanding of my sexuality to the world. I feel no guilt for what I do, for flirting with, seducing, and having sex with married men. I feel no shame for keeping boys in my back pocket for a booty call.

It is hard enough, in this society, to be female. Keeping with the habit of making women feel bad for being sexual beings has got to stop. I highly encourage reading both the blogs I linked to, especially Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog, which goes much more in depth into the societal ramifications of slut shaming and its link to rape and sexual violence. This is me on my soap box. Back to your regularly scheduled blogging.