Impending DOOM?

People are going to read this. I hope at least. Too bad more strangers do not read it; rather, people I know and people who happen to know my lover. This makes honesty rather difficult because I fear what I write my upset my lover. But now that I look at it, I realize that I should just be honest.

I have become dull in the bedroom. Contributing factors are my decrease in mental health, the effects of my medications, my overall physical health, and the perception of my body. My sex drive is not where I would want it; yet sometimes it is uncontrollable and I feel that I could stray from my lover.
The fear of my uncontrollable sex drive is less about guilt and more about the feelings of my lover. It would hurt him severely if I engaged in carnal activities with someone else. I do not want to inflict pain on him; therefore I do not have sexual engagement with others. I’m not going to lie and say it is not a challenge. It is a huge challenge and I struggle with it quite a bit. And it is not the result of my lover being unsatisfying. He satisfies me quite well. But he is not always there when I have this uncontrollable desire to “just get it in” (his words, not mine). I have been stimulated by people who I do not find sexually attractive doing asexual things. One example is one of my coworkers who I am good friends with patted me on the back in an asexual way. My loins were set afire and I found it stimulating. This of course was distressing. I began to ask my good friends probing questions about how they remain monogamous with this type of temptation flooding their systems. Unlike me, they expressed there was not temptation, just benign feelings. This was even more disconcerting. But then I see my lover and I just cannot think of anyone else as I throw myself at him. This, however, is not always the case.

A great majority of the time, I find sexual interaction a little uncomfortable. Remind all you readers, this has never been the case before. I have always had a voracious appetite. If I was not coupling with a male, I was pleasuring myself often (usually daily if I had the privacy, sometimes multiple times a day if I was really stoked). Now so many chemicals are shoved into my bodies, most altering sexual desires. On top of this, I have gained weight. I have never technically had a weight problem except for when I was really sick and lost close to forty pounds. I have had perceived weight problems, but I might have grown out of that. This, this is a weight problem. Not an obese weight problem, but an uncomfortable in my own skin problem. It’s not me. Dancing in the mirror naked has not happened in quite some time because I no longer find myself sexy. Looking at me is no longer arousing in and of itself. Of course this makes trying to arouse my lover more difficult. It also makes me less confident in my ability to perform well. I jiggle more in places where I never used to. I do not like it and it makes having intercourse much harder.
So I am on this awkward fence of being tempted to have sex with other people because I feel I cannot control my basic visceral needs and because at the same time I feel unattractive, fat, and not aroused. Now people may link this to me being engaged in sexual activities with one person for quite some time. I do not through because I know the problem is me. My mind is loopy and I am not the same as I once was. This makes me mediocre. I used to be so open, but right now I feel sex is no longer free for me. I feel I am trapped by my new found craziness. My emotions rapidly cycle. So it is me.

Relevance to past sex life: I am now boring. I do not feel I was boring before, and if I was it does not matter because in the past I did not care as long as I was not bored. Now I am boring. I do not want to try new things. We have so much vanilla sex because I am not willing to push the boundaries. I no longer bite, scratch and slap during an intense railing. I do not struggle and try to dominate. I do not force role play. And role play is tricky. I put on my plaid skirt and struggled with getting it on. This immediately made me un-aroused. My lover still was driven to ravish me and let me ride him, but I was not feeling it because I did not feel sexy. I did not feel like I deserved to be riding my man like a crazed school girl working to get an A is Calculus. This puts a damper on trying other situations. I no longer want to have sex in public for fear someone may see my fattiness or look my direction and think in their mind, “Dude that is one fucking ugly bitch. Why does she think she can fuck in public?” Over the summer while driving to Albany, my dear and I fucked at a rest stop in the broad day light. It was a blistering hot day, but there was no waiting. I was ready and dripping. He was hard and willing. It was a sticky, sweaty, hot quickie. I do not feel like I could do that now.

I am hoping this all passes. But what if it does not? What if I am unable to recover the sexual creature that resides inside of me? What if I am unable to open up and take the steps to make my sex life satisfactory again? I may be masturbating again (which is a good sign), but will this progress continue? Am I doomed?

Interchangeable Sexual Encounters

Back in November I almost had a hat trick; within 8 hours I would have had sexual intercourse three times. This was thwarted by my lover's desire to sleep. He turned me down. Now I had started an excellent narrative of this rejection, how it made me feel as a woman, and what my expectations of my lover were. After completion of this segment of the blog I planned to describe the other two sexual encounters of that time period (the eight hours in question). I, however, was called away from the process and by the time I was able to return to writing several days later I was unable to recall the details of those particular instances clearly. No, dementia is not setting in; rather, my lover and I had engaged in at least half a dozen sexual encounters since the day in question.

Of course I have had intercourse since this time with my dearest, some of it quite delightful. There was one case of multiple orgasms as I pinned him down on the bed and used his cock and pelvic bone to satisfy my own needs. I believe this was the same night I was washing dishes in his kitchen and he approached me. Rubbing himself against me, he began to stimulate my inner desires and I imagined that I was a reserved housewife, minding my own business when my lover approaches me with fervent desire. He prepares to take me there in the kitchen, but decided against and tease me with his erect penis. We move to the living room, leaving our clothing behind. As I lay on the couch, he enters me so forcefully and begins thrusting with such power. He then pulls out and begins to tease me with his hands. He continues to use his hands to stimulate my clit while watching me squirm. I moan and plead with him to let me straddle his body and feel his penis inside as I rock my hips. He denies me and continues to tease me. I try to squirm away so I can gain an advantage and we can engage in coitus. But he holds me down, continuing the tease. Finally the build up is too great and I beg him to let me ride him. He agrees and lays back. Right there on the sofa, I ride him until I feel my muscles spasm and the rush overcome me. Wait, wait, this is a totally different sexual rendezvous. The multiple orgasms I am thinking of happened in his bedroom, not the living room. I believe the night of the multiple orgasms I had shown my desire by humping the couch. he found this quite amusing.

I cannot keep all my tryst straight inside my head. I guess this is the burden I bear for having intercourse with the same man for two years. The good sex kind of melds together over time. Looking on the bright side of the situation, I suppose it could be bad sex sex, or worse, mediocre sex. We have good sex, occasionally excellent sex, and on those rare occasions we have utterly mind blowing intercourse. If our everyday sex is good, then I have no complaints. I feel for those people who are having mediocre sex and they do not even know it.

Alright, thanks for reading my ramblings. I gained some insight to my sexual life, and I hope this offered some usable information.

The Case of Sickness Induced Celibacy and Medication Dampened Libido

Getting up everyday and going to a job consumes creative energy within me. So instead of expending energy to write, scrapbook, dance, or paint I stare at the television or sleep. Sexual intercourse also loses some of its luster when one is not engaging in other stimulating pursuits. At this point in time, however, I am not working. I am on medical leave from my job because my health is not progressing. This gives me some free time, while sitting waiting for my colon to heal, to ponder my sexual activities.

Pondering my sex life produces a variety of feelings. One feeling is that it is good to be having sex again. However, I feel slightly disappointed that I had not been having sexual intercourse as often as I should have been. My lover is quite understanding; he got by masturbating onto my smooth skin for three weeks prior to me being hospitalized. The week I was in the hospital, he got nothing. It was a great relief when we were finally able to have coitus once more. We have been having sex every time we see each other because at this point in time I am well enough to have intercourse and I have some energy to perform. I use intercourse as a form of exercise.

My sex drive is not as strong as it once was. My sex drive rivaled that of my male counterpart. This made use quite compatible in the bedroom, the living room, staircases, back seats, parks, and anywhere else the mood strikes. Now it takes a little bit of work for me to feel aroused. Being perpetually wet has not changed, but the warm fuzzy feeling in my loins does not come with the mere thought of sexual contact. I no longer view pornography and have not masturbated in months. Pleasuring my self was an event that would take place multiple times a week in addition to having intercourse or other sexual encounters with my current love or past partners. Often I would take time to engage in self love, admiring my body much like a fine piece art. I would enjoy the look of my body in a mirror, taking in all my curves. Other times, I would become so aroused without any direct stimulation that I would quickly need to masturbate to relieve the pressure. At time I would just sit, thinking intently about sexual interactions to cause my body to become aroused. This is no longer the case. It has almost become normal for me not to engage in self-stimulation, which for me is bizarre considering the frequency at which it used to occur. This is only the first example of my decreased libido.

Sexual thoughts no longer occupy my conscious mind. Daydreaming about sex is no longer common place in my daily life. My clitoris used to engorge with desire at the thought of my lover’s broad shoulders and the nail marks littering his skin. I no longer have these thoughts on a regular basis. I also no longer have an outrageous physical to sexual content. Other’s sexual encounters that I observe or hear about no longer create the same craving for carnal knowledge as before. It takes more physical stimulation from my lover and his nimble fingers. I do not engage in the strenuous marathon sex sessions that used to dominate my interactions. Twice a day is now peak for me, which is far from what it was. I no longer have the burning desire to suck my lover’s cock for the hell of it. This is new territory for me; it is slightly upsetting when I spend any amount of time thinking about it. I hope and pray that I am not turning into “that girl.” The more logical explanation, I believe, is illness and medication. I am thinking my decreased libido is a side effect of being ill and taking a host of medications. I have Crohn’s disease that is not well controlled and has not been for some time. As a result of this, I take many medications. I take nine different medications and a bunch of vitamins totally in over twenty pills a day.


I long for the sexual encounters I experienced early in the summer. My dear and I spent a glorious night out on his grandparents’ boat. I rode him like a champ and had multiple orgasms. I gripped the edge skylight and used it for extra leverage to ride his cock like I owned it. This was after he has already busted all over my breast. Soon I hope to regain this fierce attitude. Until then, I will continue to get it when I can.

Ever so satisfied to be banging again...

I am back after a long blog writing hiatus. First it was because I became too busy with work. Then I switched agencies to another position. Soon after this, illness struck.


A little back story…


In April 2010, I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Basically my colon was lined with ulcers and nothing I ate was absorbed properly. Not to mention frequent trips to the bathroom permeated my life. I entered a somewhat stable remission period of over a year before I was ill again. It started out slow and the then started to grow. Soon it was determined that I did not have ulcerative colitis but Crohn’s disease; a disease quite similar in nature. Although I was not nearly as ill as the first time I had a flare of disease, I was in pretty bad shape. Getting up and going to work was a challenge. Focusing on any task was a struggle. It was cause for celebration if I was awake for more than twelve consecutive hours. Suffice to say I was not interested in any sort of sexual activity. This of course took a great toll on my current relationship. I tried to oblige my man when I could, but often this was less than satisfying for both of us. It usually involved me laying quite passively, clearly waiting for it to end so I could go to sleep and him reaching somewhat disappointing orgasms. It was far easier for me to take off my shirt and let him masturbate onto my chest. I offered him the chance to go and seek the company of another woman, one who would satisfy the urges and the deep dark cravings he was not getting from me. But he did not. He stuck by me and for this he deserves props. It was rough for him, being deprived sex and having to deal with a very sick person.


Not all sexual encounters during this time period were dismal. There were the occasional times when I could muster up some energy to ride him enough to achieve climax, and then roll to my back so he could rut on me till he had finished. These times had some passion and feeling behind them. One such occasion was extremely special because both of us reached out peak of pleasure within moments of each other. Since this is reported as a rare phenomenon, I was quite ecstatic about its occurrence.


This time period has since ended. I am slowly recovering my sexual desire. I am not ashamed to admit I have at moments jumped my lover just for the sake of using his body to satisfy my own selfish need for climax. I discovered how much I had missed the physical aspect of our relationship and have been trying to show him this realization. Not only am I not too exhausted to engage in sexual intercourse, my body is being much more cooperative. Natural lubrication has once again entered my life; the flood gates have reopened and I feel the burning desire. At most moments of the day my body is poised and ready to accept sexual advances. And mentally I am feeling better about sexual interactions. I have less fear that I may have some sort of embarrassing bowel accident (which is kind of funny because I have no qualms about anal). I feel more freedom to engage in coitus.


On the other hand, my body is taking a serious beating from the medications. Alterations to my appearance are not becoming apparent, at least to me, if not everyone else. With these alterations come some feelings of inadequacy and unattractiveness. At most times I am able to grapple with these feelings and win. Hizah!


The moral of my posting today? I plan to keep writing because it helps my soul and I plan to keep having invigorating sexual intercourse. At the current time I have no new and exciting stories or epic sexual adventures to regale anyone with, except maybe my rendezvous at a rest stop on the path of the Thruway…

Vanilla Ice Cream versus Hot Fudge Brownie Sundae toped with Peanut Butter Sauce

Vanilla ice cream is okay some of the time. Plain Jane ice cream can be soothing after being bombarded with a variety of other flavors. However, I tend to lean towards the peanut butter chunk ice cream on top of a warm, moist brownie, doused in hot fudge and peanut butter, smothered with whip cream. Full of flavor and full of POW. And this is also how I order my sex: intense, over the top, and full of treats. However, like making out of this world sundae, not all the ingredients are in the kitchen for crazy sex. The energy that goes into sex that is far above vanilla standards is tremendous. Both partners need to be up to the task of performing, and if role play is involved, both have to get into character. If the couples completing coitus are acting out a fantasy, all the tools and the perfect setting must be set. There can be no forgetting of the plaid skirt or sexy nighty. The handcuffs and belts must be in reach. Pleasure tape has to be purchased, but no one can ever seem to remember to buy it. Lube must not be lost in the limitless pit of the bedroom, hindering the ritual of obscure positions and anal sex.

Am I saying I have a lot of boring vanilla? No, actually my sex life is far more exciting than most and I have the bruises on my ass to prove it. We screw around every time we see each other, whether it be very public head or cervix pounding sex. But my quest is to increase the intensity even beyond what we have. So starting this month I will remember the pleasure tape so I can be the kidnapped

The Flood Waters without the Thunder and Lightning

I have no problem having sex. This must be made clear. My problem lies in the lack of conclusion. There is no pinnacle of excitement and definitely no big bang. The waters down south do begin flowing and clearly I am aroused physiologically, but the lighting never strikes and the thunder never shakes my body.

My SO does not have any problem having an orgasm. Sometimes his experience is so intense, he is completely dumbfounded. His is like a huge release and is accompanied by the blowing of a huge load. Sometimes this splatters in my mouth, across my body, or reservoirs in the tip of a condom. I can tell by the look on his face that he is happy.

I want this experience too. I want a magnificent orgasm that I can revel in for a few moments. But rarely do orgasms happy, let alone mind blowing experiences. I no longer masturbate because all it does is frustrate me by not producing an end result. Sometimes while my SO is doing all the right things, my body is just throbbing but the lightning never strikes. This great feeling of being on the edge of something grand eventually takes it toll and becomes painful and I have to ask him to stop. I know he is doing all the right things; He spends a great deal of time stroking me, rubbing me, nuzzling me, and sucking on me to no avail. It gets to a point where I just want him to thrust in me and get it over with.

It is a source of great frustration to me, but I know it is a burden to him also. He feels as though he is performing inadequately. But it truly is not him. This is all on my shoulders. I have had this problem for a while; before it was only when men were working on me that the end was never in sight. Now I cannot even get my own rocks off. It is a shame.

If anyone has any suggestions, please say something. Frustration and anger are obviously not helping. Also going off meds does not seem feasible, but if that is the cause, I might have to. I want some fucking lightning.

Please Use the Backdoor...

From what I gather by reading a variety of post online, anal sex is gaining popularity because of how taboo the practice still is. From my own personal knowledge of the subject I can think of three main reasons it is so taboo.

Hygiene is probably the first reason I can think of why anal sex is considered a bad thing. It is true; a great deal of bacteria does pass through the anus in the form of feces. However as long as the area is cleaned and whatever objects that enters the anus enters no other part of the body, the risk of spreading bacteria drops significantly. Also wearing a condom helps maintain a cleaner safer experience.

Another reason anal sex is so taboo is probably because is more dangerous than vaginal penetration. The walls of the rectum are softer and more easily damaged than those of the vagina. In addition, the pushing of an object through the two sphincter muscles (which old things in) can be quite painful and also create quite a bit of tearing. Any opening of the skin puts the receiver at greater risk of infection and the transmission of STIs. But these tears, on their own, can become issues. They can increase in size and depth, creating fissures and fistulas. Wounds like these can cause infection and break down in surrounding tissues leading to feces being evacuated through openings that feces should not pass through.

But the real taboo nature, I believe, comes more from the culture we are brought up in. Many religions consider anal sex a sin because it has no real procreative value and is often the practice of homosexual males. Growing up Catholic did not have a stifling result on my sexuality, but I do know how my religion interprets sex. It should only be penile-vaginal intercourse because that is the only way two people can procreate; procreation is the only purpose for sexual intercourse. Sodomy is mentioned often in the Bible in the terms of sinning. People consider this fact the reason not even to try anal sex. They consider it a grave violation of everything God has said and created. I do not agree. I do not believe that God would let something be pleasurable if it was a deadly sin. I believe more along the lines that the reason sodomy is a sin is because it was a practice that could be found outside of those who worshipped God in ancient times. The believers in God could use this fact to place themselves about the “pagan” and “heathen” sinners.

I recently read an autobiography by Toni Bentley called The Surrender: An Erotic Memoir that discusses this taboo topic in great detail. In this book, Bentley describes how she was an atheist and found God through anal sex. I enjoyed the book, despite the author’s apparent mental and emotional health problems. She made some valid points about the enjoyment anal sex. She mentioned it is not for everyone, and if it causes one severe pain and bleeding, one should most definitely not do it. I agree with this sentiment completely.

Another huge factor that goes into having enjoyable anal sex is trust and communication. If the receiver is not communicating with the giver, damage is inevitable. If the giver is pushing to hard and too fast, the receiver needs to speak up and suggest maybe a more gentle approach. A more gentle thrust decreases tearing and pain, making the whole experience for the receiver more pleasant. Also, the giver can experience quite an intense orgasm from slow thrusting. Fighting the urge to jam and ram it all in there really creates quite a release. From reports of guys I know, they say it is quite a mind blowing experience doing it slowly and not as savage.

The act also involves a lot of trust. One has to be able to trust that the giver will listen to their desires and will stop if necessary. If this trust is not present, the receiver may become tense, tightening the muscles in the area, making penetration all the more painful and dangerous. If a person trust their lover, relaxation will occur, which in turn makes most experimentation easier and less stressful.

Overall I do not oppose anal sex. I believe it can be quite enjoyable if both participants are on the same page. So please, enter by the back door only if you and your partner are in a good, solid, open, and intimate relationship.