Hello dear reader(s)!
Hello family! If you are family (blood family), you may want to stop reading here. Why? Because I am going to be talking about sex. And unfortunately, that means you will be having knowledge about the sex life of someone in your family and nobody wants that. I don’t want to know what gets you off, and I can’t imagine you want to know what does for me, so you might want to go away now. I love you, though. This post just isn’t for you.
Okay, are they gone? Good! Let’s get dirty!
Also, if you are under 18 or 21 depending on your locality, you should probably go away. Not that I am going to get crazy explicit, (the dirty thing was mostly a joke), but I have to cover my ass. So don’t tell anyone that I didn’t tell you not to read further when you get caught.
Okay, are they gone too? Good! Let’s get nasty!
Okay, not really. I don’t want to make this a porn blog-type-thing (yet) because then I would have to charge and that means building a pay-wall, and having to report income generated, and that would be working, and would require actual work to be put into it which I am still pretty unable to do given the frequency of bad days still from all the cancer treatment damage. Besides, my man-boobs are not quite supple enough to grace the internet yet. However, since sex acts and lots of them are a few of my favorite things (way better than raindrops on roses), and I hate censoring, I do want to write about it.
Also, on a societal level, I think our failure to talk openly about sex leads to a lot of problems. So are you ready? Good! Let’s get sexy!
23 years ago yesterday, I lost my virginity. (Yes, I remember the date.) I am one of the few people I know who does not regret my first time, and knows that the woman I was with doesn’t either. Pretty cool stuff. Of course, the sex wasn’t all that great, but it was special and I loved it. And as time went along, I learned to do it better. And then I loved it more. The more sex I have, the more I want. I am a greedy slut.
I noticed I have recently been followed by a few blogs that exist solely for kinky reasons. And that’s awesome! I am all for people expressing the many, many ways sex can be and how as long as it is between consenting adults, we shouldn’t judge. I understand why they have followed. I occasionally mention consensual non-consent and vague BDSM and D/s type themes. I am sex-positive and have no issues with saying so. The only worry I have, is that they will get bored. I am not in any 24/7 lifestyle, and rarely go explicit, even in fiction.
Not that there is anything wrong with doing so. In fact, if someone’s words can help someone find something within themselves to make their sex lives more enjoyable? Describe your fucking in as much detail as you can. As well, because of the old Puritanical influence that causes many people to lie about sex and what they like, it is good to occasionally throw your sex in somebody’s face to prevent someone from being marginalized because they buy a riding crop and nipple clamps.
I’m pretty kinky. I have always felt that if someone likes what you are doing, or what they are doing to you, and you and your partner(s) are happy with it, then you should do what makes you happy. There are things I like that some people don’t, and things some like that I wouldn’t ever want to try, but as long as it is between consenting adults, none of us should ever feel ashamed for it. And none of us should ever have what we like legislated against us either.
If in 23 years my sex consisted solely of missionary, I would fucking hate sex. And I don’t want to hate sex. Sex is better (for me) than pretty much anything else with the exception of love. Sex should be fun. So why should I feel bad for having fun with sex? When that not-so-discreet discreet package shows up at my door, why should I be ashamed?
Just the same as if sex isn’t fun for you. Why should you feel bad for not wanting it?
Do I care that you can only get off if someone spreads butter on you and calls you their little butterball? Nope. Am I going to make fun of you because you have a thing for being whipped with banana peels? Nope. I might not want to play with you that way, but there is no judgment for you. But if you force yourself on someone (for real) or try something with a life unable to consent, you are a piece of shit and should probably kill yourself. Take one for the team.
In my fiction, I tend to write about women who are the aggressors. If you are reading in and think this means I like to be dominated, well, you are half-right. I like playing all the ways but dominant women are a little more rare and therefore more fun to write about. Sometimes I don’t like to play at all. Sometimes, I just want to make love to someone. The point here, is to quit reading in. I do enjoy sex. I do like to play, but because I write about something, does not make it real.
I like to write. I like to fuck. Occasionally the two will collide. 23 years of activity and counting, and I simply do not give a shit if anyone has a problem with that.
For featured image see page for author [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons