ConTuesday! Cervices and such.
Missed you! Here are some confessions for us to bond over.
I randomly had my first ever lucid dream and used it to orchestrate a gangbang.
I mean, obviously.
Was it in space!? I still can’t do this. I should restart my very vague and boring dream journal.
This isn’t quite about sex; it’s about owning my body.
I’ve had a fairly large cyst on my lower body for years. I hate how it feels, and how it looks. Sometimes it can be seen through my clothing. I try not to let my partners see it, or even touch it.
I got it removed yesterday. Being able to rest my hand on my stomach and not feel that hard mass below is worth the pain and ugly sutures. I feel like I have control over my body again.
::internet high five::
Feeling ownership over one’s body is every bit as worthy of a high five as is a gang bang. In space, even. I’m so very happy for you.
i finally told my partner his dick smells sometimes, and that he needs to wash it before i’m going to go down on him! sometimes it’s hard to remember that GGG doesn’t have to extend to hygiene, and that i’m entitled to put a sweet-smelling dick in my mouth!
Okay, this is a very good thing for everyone to remember: GGG doesn’t have to extend to hygiene!
…although if you’re the dirty one you should always be GGG about showering, you know?
Took my long-time girlfriend, now ex, on a ”Farewell” date last night; we went to the restaurant we had our first date in (it was in the area, and it seemed too poetic not to), and just… talked. Talked through everything that had happened over the course of our relationship; what had gone wrong, what had gone right, what we wished we’d done differently.
I had recently made it clear to her the breakup was permanent (she originally broke up with me, and since then has regretted it) to both of our regret; I don’t think I’m capable of total faith in her anymore, there would always be a seed of doubt, a reason for restraint in moving forward. We scheduled the date in the wake of that turbulent confession, itself made in the wake of turbulent flirting.
And… it was the best date we have been on in years. Since we first started dating, really. We were open with each other, we weren’t holding back how we felt about things for fear of hurting the other. If the relationship had been like that it never would have ended.
I’m miserable; I still hate that it didn’t work out. But I’m also the happiest I’ve been in years. And she is, too. We both feel relieved of burdens we didn’t even know we were carrying, the sense that we were each responsible for the other’s unhappiness.
And right now I’m feeling like maybe everything will be okay, and I wanted to share this scrap of optimism.
This is one of the best breakup stories I’ve ever read. Something I’ve started to suspect rather recently is that
I wish I didn’t have a cervix. It keeps getting banged during sex or aching at me when it’s been accidentally vibrated. Maybe I just need a longer vagina?
You know what I’ve always wished? Well, always since I’ve been sexually active, I suppose. I wish my cervix had a tongue-like organ that I could intentionally occlude to prevent pregnancy and protect it from banging mishaps. It would also be capable of highly interesting flickering motions. I may even want this more than I want a prehensile tail. I’m a giver, I suppose.
That being said, I’m currently fucking a guy with a very health sadistic side, and he barely even tries to conceal his glee whenever he catches my cervix. Still, he can suck it. I want my cervical tongue, dammit.
I decided it would be fun to cut open one of those super-hot red peppers and rub it on my clit. It burned way more than I was anticipating, such that touching myself was completely out of the question. Therefore, it seemed that the best thing to do at this point would be get a little more spicy pepper juices in my mucous membranes. After spending a few minutes on the floor, gasping with pain, I realized what a stupid idea this was and vowed to never, ever do something like this again.
I did it again the next week. It was still awesome. So, to anyone else who’s masochistic enough to try this, you’re welcome!
Is this like the X-games version of figging, or what? My vagina will never be a badass like this, but I’m glad you’re having fun.
I can’t help but slut shame myself over my HPV diagnosis. I have always been very sexually careful, but am on immunosuppressants and prone to stuff like warts anyway… never had them genitally, touch wood, but have just had a chunk of my cervix removed because of it and even though everyone’s being really nice, I feel like everyone knows HPV is sexually transmitted and my body is betraying me with potential-cancer for being a slag. I’ve always used protection, it seems unfair. I would NOT think this of anybody else going through the same thing. Just myself. But I’ve now had to explain the process to a potential play partner, and feel like they will not want me now, even though what, 90% of people my age have this condition.
Get your smear done ASAP, ladies. I know there is no need to feel like I do right now but even this is better than getting cervical cancer! The treatment is not painful and it doesn’t matter HOW careful you’ve been, the HPV can be in there, wrecking shit up. Don’t be scared. Doctors might put cancer-obliterating lasers in your vagina as a pre-emptive strike and that is even MORE awesome than it sounds. Don’t be all dismissive like me and leave it late and put yourself at risk.
It isn’t just sluts who get HPV. Statistically, basically everyone gets HPV at one point or another. Knowing about it is rarer, but still not exceptional. I’m just reiterating here, but it’s just that true. My pelvic exam is scheduled for next Tuesday. Because a) sexual health is imfuckingportant, and b) I need more birth control.