quizzical pussy

Check it out, you guys! It’s ConTuesday! It’s like explosions of badassery! And soup.

I need a cock in my cunt SO FUCKING BAD right now, I can’t fucking concentrate on anything. This is freaking ridiculous.

I swear I don’t remember typing this, but are we sure this isn’t me?

I was having a really lovely time in the shower -by which I mean I was having an orgasm- and I came so hard that I bit my shoulder without realizing it.

Three days later, I still have my self-inflicted hickey. I’m a lil proud.

Showering: you’re doing it right.

Speaking of shoulders, not many people I haven’t been in a relationship with know this about me, but I kiss shoulders. They are my go-to “casual, affectionate kiss” spot more than any other. I also sometimes kiss my own shoulder when I feel like I don’t have anything better to do. I don’t really pay special attention to them during sex or anything; just like to place what Daphne calls “decisive kisses” there.

So, I mean, are we sure this isn’t me?

I can’t decide which I miss more while my lover’s away… fuckings or backrubs…

This is how I know this isn’t me. Always fucking. Always. This is independent of the fact that I don’t think I’ve ever had access to a lover who actually gives amazing backrubs, which is unfair because I am quite good at giving them.

FUCK YOU I DON’T WANT YOUR PITY.

I’ve been in a long distance friends-with-benefits sort of relationship (labels are difficult) with one of my absolute best friends for a couple of months now. We’ve only been able to get together to hook up a handful of times because of the distance, and for a few of our visits recently we were having trouble getting me to reach orgasm. I’ve thought about the significance behind that wording a fair amount, that WE were having trouble together: it’s not just his fault that I wasn’t finishing. We hadn’t had that much practice having sex together, his last partner was into things that are really different from what I’m looking for, and I hadn’t had enough practice knowing and communicating what I wanted to help him be better for me. We had one awful visit a little while ago where I felt like I was never going to have another orgasm I didn’t give myself – that was a super shitty night for both of us.

Through continuing the difficult work of having as much sex together as we could fit into our schedules, I was finally able to articulate in my head some specifics about what gets me off. And then a few days ago, he patiently listened while I (at least temporarily) got over my embarrassment and insecurities of talking about my lady parts and shared my discoveries with him. Then he did an abso-fucking-lutely amazing job at carrying out my requests. And then I broke out my vibrator and we did it again. It wasn’t just that the orgasms were great, because they were, but the buildup to them alone was rocking. Like he just touched me and I stopped breathing (this might sound dangerous, but don’t worry, my body is usually good at starting to breathe again before I pass out, although at one point I did have to ask him to stop fingering me because I was feeling dizzy from hyperventilating… in like a totally awesome way).

Everything about that visit was wonderful – not just the orgasms. We spent so much time in bed cuddling and kissing and sexing, and then we showered together, and we cuddled for a bit on his couch, and then we went back to cuddling and kissing and laughing and talking and sexing in bed. I’m still so happy thinking about it.

This is a really good illustration of how communication can absolutely make sex. Results may vary, of course, but it’s a thing. Talk about sex more. Talk about sex a lot. Experiment almost as much. Don’t stress about orgasms or other goals. Enjoy each other. Then talk more.

Congratulations, you’re awesome in bed. Or something like that.

Hey QP!

So my girlfriend and I went out and shopped for a vibrator a couple of days ago and tried it out on her when we got home. I controlled it and she laid back and enjoyed the ride, giving the occasional direction to stay put or move, that sort of thing. After a while I noticed she was starting to orgasm, full body tension and all. She kept closing her eyes or rolling them back but I kept growling at her to look in my eyes as she came. When she was done she called it the “best thing in the universe,” and apparently her first full body orgasm. Plus the looking into each others eyes bit was very hot. Win?

Total win! ::Internet high five:: because obviously.

I tell people I have a thing for werewolves. This is not technically a lie. Werewolves are hot, I enjoy reading werewolf-themed porn, etc.

What I don’t tell people is that frankly the “were” part is completely optional. Wolves are sexy, end of story. I wouldn’t fuck one in real life because, you know, wild animal, teeth, claws, probably a bad idea. But I pretend I have a werewolf-only policy because if I claim I’m only into shapeshifters, it gives me an out. It’s not bestiality. Because if I thought bestiality was hot, that would be Icky and Wrong.

And I’ve recently realized that if I was alone with a Husky or similarly wolf-resembling breed of dog, and said dog initiated activity that I perceived as sexual… I don’t know if I’d stop it. I have no idea whether this is inherently fucked up or not.

In my opinion, the worst thing that can come from thoughts we don’t act on is guilt. It’s either guilt for not acting on well-intended thoughts, or guilt for having thoughts we perceive as bad, normally because we were taught to believe they’re bad. Guilt is one of the more destructive, useless emotions. Eradicate it whenever you’re able, is my advice.

I guess what I’m really saying is that if someone fantasizes about wolves I feel like that’s their business, and if they have consensual¹ sex with a husky, I feel like that’s between them and the dog. I have no idea whether that view is inherently fucked up or not, but I’m finding it hard to find two fucks to rub together on that one.

I took emergency contraception a few days ago. Since then, I’ve been ultra-mega-horny. My nipples have stood up so much they’re in pain, and I’ve masturbated twice as often as usual despite having a cold (usually a huge libido-killer).

Someone tell me I shouldn’t be using EC as a damn aphrodisiac. (I’m not, but if I had the money, I’d be tempted.)

The things I learn here! I took emergency contraception once and cried a lot. Which is like reverse masturbating, kinda.

Give me secrets! I hunger for secrets!

1. This can be dicey, but I’d say that when the dog is the aggressor and, if applicable, the penetrator, it’s probably consensual [↩]

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