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Posts Tagged ‘gimp life’
05 Aug

Where’s my spandex?

I should go see my doctor, and soon. I think my thyroid levels are starting to slip. The major clue is that my indomitable sex drive seems to be, well, domitting1 a little.

How do I know? Same way the world knows a Uew Boll movie is going to suck: Experience.

Starting about four years ago I stopped having periods for ten months. Once I stopped freaking out over whether or not I was with child, which took at least two or three months, I noticed that my orgasms– usually so delicious, volatile and true– had vanished into thin frustration, and eventually I became pretty much indifferent to having sex at all2. Blood tests, when I got around to them, showed that my thyroid hormones were stupid low. It turns out that those are important for non-sexual functions as well. Like, being alive and stuff. Oops.

Recently, my periods have been, to use the technical term, wonky. And my sex drive has seemed a lot more, for lack of a better term, normal. I still want sex. I still masturbate. I’m just less fixated on getting off than I usually am.

Having a lowered sex drive is actually a good thing right now. I don’t see Laramy all that much, so we don’t get a chance to fuck more than a couple times a week. Sex outside of my primary relationship only happens occasionally. I have not yet turned down sex. I wouldn’t even say that I’m entirely satisfied with how much I’m getting, but I’m much more content with my libido this way than the gnawing, snarling sex-hunger I’m used to feeling. It’s comfortable. It’s manageable.

But it’s not healthy. I’m almost sure the cause in an actual medical problem, and I’m fairly certain of what it is. There’s every reason to believe it’s going to get worse if I don’t run the blood tests and adjust my medication as necessary. There’s the actual health stuff to consider, as well as the risk that I might stop having orgasms if I’m not careful. I also don’t feel like me unless I’m a nympho.

If mad horniness is my superpower, kryptonite is happening right now inside my glands. And being the flawed character I am, I’m conflicted about it, but I’m going to do the right thing. For great justice.

(image source)

  1. Don’t bother looking it up, by the way. It’s not a word. []
  2. At least with my boyfriend at the time, honestly. []
28 Jun

ConTuesday! Bi now!

This is a public service announcement: Bisexuals exist. Sometimes I get sick of people pulling the “phase” card, telling us to make up our minds, or assuming that once we start fucking people of one sex that means we’ve sworn off people of another. There is even a TV Trope about this (warning: TV Trope link goes to TV Tropes, so prepare to lose your day if you click).

Some people just get to have more options than you do. Deal with it.

This public service announcement is also a ConTuesday that features people who really can (and perhaps even do) have it both ways.

I’m dying to have a MMF threesome, but my boyfriend has gotten into this rut of non openness and the idea of it being the death of our relationship. I don’t really think I would want him to be a part of it tho’, I would actually rather find an established male bi-sexual couple who want to play with each other as much as me. I want it to be fun and giving, and flirty. I’ve done it with toys, but I want the physical sensation of being between 2 warm bodies. Just the thought of it makes me quiver and get wet.

I’ve never had an MMF threesome, and it’s a huge fantasy. But I have to say, I’d rather have a “devil’s threesome” where no one felt like it was the consolation prize of threesomes. I’d rather just forgo it than have to deal with two guys trying to avoid each other trying to have a 100% heterosexual experience with me. So two bi guys? Yum.

I love my boyfriend. I love his personality, I love his quirks. I love how geeky he is. In bed, he’s perfect. He’s sexy, he turns me on, he’s ok with my sleeping with the ladies (because, you know, sometimes you just want boobs.), he likes being dominating, oh how I love being submissive. The problem is, I had a great sex drive… I was ready for sexy times at the drop of a hat… and he has health problems. Of the, sex is limited because ow my body hurts bad and I just can’t sort. It got to the point where it made me feel terrible to so much as suggest sex, much less actually having sex, even if he initiated, because it would put him out of commission the rest of the day. And then he’d feel terrible because I used to love sex, and now I just can’t get into it. And I’d feel terrible for making him feel terrible.

I’m not old enough for this yet. I love him, but I miss sex with him.

Trying to have a good sex life while working around your health issues can be really, really frustrating for everyone involved. Hope you guys have figured out a way that works for you! Also, ha you’re bi you exist ha!

So, over the course of an extremely raunchy (and fun!) marathon sex session last night, my boyfriend of 18 months came out to me that he is bi. He seemed a little surprised (and relieved) that I wasn’t squicked out by the fact at all.

Hey, I figure I’m bi, he’s bi, as long as we keep communication open and play safe, there could be a lot of fun to be had!

Bi-on-bi love is a beautiful thing. Also, in order to accomplish it you have to have two bisexuals who also exist. Just saying.

I had a friend who was a pre-op transsexual. I wasn’t attracted to him, but it was intriguing, the penis with breasts. I mean I didn’t find him at ALL hot, but his cock was huge and and there was something very sweet and accommodating about his way. That was some strange and singular sex. I think I was his last big hoo-rah, and I think I’ll never be curious again about sex with a man with boobs. Now, sex with a man AND with a woman with boobs, otoh…

I have a bit of a crush on a woman who happens to be trans. No idea what’s going on under her clothes, but I do know that she is so freaking cute and I am equipped to deal with any eventuality. Why? Cause bi!

27 May

Living in sin

One of my coworkers was recently telling us about her son’s impending engagement to his longtime sweetheart. It’s going to happen any day now. Her eyebrow turned a confidential arch as she detailed his plans for the proposal, and the engagement gift she wants to get them. She worried they’re too young, having just finished college, with years of grad school ahead of them. She sighed. She beamed. “They’re not shacking up, though,” she added. “They’re going to move in together after the wedding.”

“That’s good,” said another coworker. “That’s the way it should be.” General concurrence.

“Really?” I asked her in my quizzical way, not just because this woman lived with her boyfriend for a year before he recently became her husband.

“I think it’s the ideal. I mean, I admire people who can do that.”

“It’s great if they want to wait. But I don’t think there’s any one right way. I just think people should do whatever works best for them,” I shrugged.

“Well, yeah. I do too. I just think it’s really classy when people wait to live together,” she asserted. Another shrug from me. “It’s just classier,” she tasted the word again.

As I went back to my work, I wondered what’s “classy” about abstaining from sex before marriage. Indeed, what’s classy about not even abstaining from sex, but maintaining plausible deniability that you’re having it with the person you love. It just doesn’t compute for me.

Let me take a moment to tell you that I’m actually pro-marriage. I’ve had several conversations recently leading me to suspect that a lot of people get the opposite impression from me. People who read my blog might think this because I’ve written that marriage isn’t something I consider important to the continued stability of society. Or possibly because I also stated that a free stand mixer was a perfectly valid reason to enter the sacred institution of matrimony. Or maybe just because I’m so obviously cynical.

But honestly? I’m thrilled when people get engaged. I will squee right along with the best of them when two people I love want to exchange vows. In this society just the word “wife” or “husband” has more heft, more meat to it than “girlfriend” or “boyfriend”, and this is fact. I’m not immune to it, whether I can intellectually justify it or not.

But also, there’s this innate power in having said “You and me, okay? For as long as we keep breathing. This is the goal.” You can make that commitment without being officially married, of course, and I respect that choice as well, but when you’re married you’re more or less asking people to automatically assume it. And that’s powerful too. However it might seem when I’m snarking, I’m pro-optimism and pro-love and pro-commitment. So Yay Marriage! Yay Marriage between any two or more people who want to make that promise to one another.

Is it for me personally? I don’t know. To me, marriage is largely just like any relationship, but with a stated goal (which may or may not work out) and all those little perks like possible tax breaks, legal status, and the ability to easily share insurance benefits. In and of itself, it is neither scary nor numinous. In my able-bodied early twenties I guess I used to think it would be really great to have that kind of bond and goal with someone. Like, hypothetically. But since becoming chronically ill, it feels uncomfortable to even think about asking for that degree of commitment from anyone. I’m aware that I’m not the best long-term investment*. So I don’t know. Probably not.

But I am pro-marriage for you, if you’re into it. I promise.

However, I have to say it once again: I don’t think being married makes anyone better than non-married people. I don’t believe it sanctifies sexual union. I don’t think that living together and sharing a life before you’re (or instead of being) married is tacky or sinful or intrinsically sub-ideal or anything of the sort. I think it’s just what works best for some people and their relationships, which really aren’t my business anyway. Just another choice in a world full of possibilities.

You want to protect marriage? Don’t play nuptial keep away with the homosexuals. Don’t freak out because a woman wants two husbands. Don’t judge couples for having pre- or lieu-of-marital sex. Cluck not about unwed mothers. In observing these prohibitions, perhaps you’ll find that every time people get married, it gets to be beautiful and meaningful to them. Never perfunctory. Never to appease public opinion. Stop making it about you and your expectations. It may surprise you that your marriage can still be what you and your partner/s and your God and your culture want marriage to be. You’re just finally giving the same courtesy to the rest of us.

Because if you, the judgment mongers of the world, keep picking at marriage, trying to reduce it to your own definitions and rules, it really is going to unravel. And all that’s left will be people trying to love each other and be happy. And I have this strange foreboding that in the end, that will be perfectly fine with everyone but you.

(image source)

*These statements do not in any way apply to all or indeed any other disabled or chronically ill people. Just to be clear, I am talking about myself only.

08 Apr

Woe and thunderation

So I’m basically always sick; it is, after all, what my life has become. Woe, woe and thunderation. But today I’m extra special acutely ill with a fever and stuff. In honor of my awesome shiny new suffering, and in lieu of using my braised brain for thinking about sex, life, society, and/or my place in them, it’s linky time!

Evey, the ultra-endearing blogger at Voyeur on Display, has a shiny new site! I give you Eveybird.com.

My favorite Married Freaks went to a nudist dinner party. I never knew it until now, but I won’t be entirely satisfied with my life until someone invites me to a nudist dinner party.

Yesterday was Holly’s last day at her job! And this is an extremely good thing. Now she’s freed up to pursue a career that hopefully kicks almost as much ass as she does. I suggest TV exec.

If anyone has any fun or interesting links to share or shamelessly self-promote, leave them in comments! I’m certainly in the market for distractions today.

14 Feb

<3

someecards.com - They won't be able to fit what I'm about to do to you on a conversation heart.

Happy Valentine’s day, everyone. May those currently with a partner be ecstatic with your choice, and may those currently without one flirt your little asses off. Above all, may there be orgasms aplenty for everyone!*

I have a feeling I’m going to be spending the evening in bed.**

*If you’re into that sort of thing. Otherwise I just hope you or someone else is treating you very, very well today.
**Sadly, probably not in the fun way. But I’ll make up for it later, trust me.

31 Dec

Charity Case

A Fuquerton family acquaintance recently gushed to Laramy’s mum about what a very very good person he must be to be with a handicapped girl.*

Behold the lowly cripple: a creature who can only experience human love through the selflessness of others! See her hobble pathetically around, tragically seeking connection, all for naught, until a benevolent man finds it in his heart to condescend to touch her. The saint! The philanthropist! He must be a really, really good person.

Make no mistake, Laramy really is an amazingly good person. He’s sweet and generous and affectionate (to those on his good side). Watching him with his pets would melt you. It’s indisputable that I’m lucky to have him in my life, but anyone would be. Not just cripples.

It’s not surprising, though. Truth is, there are times when I think and sound a lot like that batty broad. I wonder what an able-bodied person is doing with me. I feel guilty that I’m spending yet another hour in bed, flaking on another commitment. How kind of him to keep me around even though I’m not functioning at his level, when we all know he could do so much better.

But isn’t there even the slightest possibility that it’s not all about health, despite what armchair evolutionary psychologists would have us believe? Isn’t it possible that someone might be with me because of my internal encyclopedia of useless knowledge? Because he likes the silly pictures I draw? Because my eyes look like sunflowers? Because I’m a huge dork, or because I once played Hippolyta in A Midsummer Night’s Dream? Hell, because I carry the coolest cane ever, when I need it. Plus, I get the absolute best parking spaces.

I don’t know. I’m just throwing things against the wall here. But I have to be open to the idea that maybe I have actual, non good-deeds-deductible selling points. There are a lot of details about me, and the fact that I probably won’t be trying out for a roller derby team any time soon is just one of them. It really doesn’t need to be the most important one all the time.

(image source)

*This, to my knowledge, isn’t the opinion of any of the Fuquertons: just one batty broad they happen to know, and don’t particularly like.

24 Nov

Shopping for a cause…

…a horny, silly, absurd, sex-blogging causeOKAY IT’S ME. GOD.

With the winter holidays coming up and all the gift-buying shenanigans that ensue, I’d like to take a moment of your time to talk about meeeeee! Yeah, sorry.

As you may know, I’m chronically ill and disabled to the point where it’s tough to function normally day-to-day, which pretty much Hulksmashes my earning potential down to negligible. At the same time, my medical bills are pretty significant. Significantly terrifying.

I’ve never felt right about putting a tip jar or wishlist on my site. They’re a great idea for a lot of bloggers, but I just don’t think they’re for me right now.

But I have signed up for a few affiliate accounts with online retailers because I feel like they’re win-win, and possibly other wins as well. If you’re going to buy something you want anyway (win), and simply use a link from here, you’ll be extending support to me and my site (win) without spending any extra money (win) or changing your shopping experience in any way (win)! Win.

To the people who’ve used my affiliate links to make purchases in the past, thank you so much! You are awesome for thinking of me and taking that extra time.

So, if you intend to do some shopping at any of the following websites this season (or any season), please consider clicking through to those sites from here (they’re also on my sidebar under “shopping links”, if you ever want quick access in future). Doesn’t even have to be sex toys, since Amazon.com is on the list, and as you know, that behemoth has everything.

The links, in no particular order:

If you like what you read here and want to help me out, I’d really appreciate your clicky support, now or any time of year! Thanks!

(image source)

Tags: , ,
08 Nov

The unloveable shape

I want to talk to you for just a minute. This is serious time. I’m not even going to be dorky or silly on my blog today. At all. That’s because this shit is important. Are you ready? Are you sure? Show me your ready face. Good.

Stop hating your body.*

Today, now, right this second, and for realsies. Just stop hating it. Because most of the time your body is not the problem. The problem is you’re mental.

I’m running into way too many gorgeous people lately who seem to genuinely think they’re unattractive. To the point where it’s clear that their self-perception and actual looks aren’t on the most basic of speaking terms. If they, the resplendent, cannot muster up a modicum of customary smugness over how fucking pretty they are, how am I supposed to achieve basic self-acceptance? Please, you privileged, you ugly-impaired, you kings of New England, can you please stop making this about you and realize it’s about me?

I read an article several years back about some study that showed series of pictures to a bunch of men in Great Britain to determine the perfect B.M.I. for ultimate attractiveness in a woman. It’s 20.65.

Even today I still remember that number to the hundredth decimal place because upon reading it I immediately went to one of those online B.M.I. calculators, entered my height, and determined exactly what I should weigh to be scientifically hot.

And lo, I weighed more than that. And I was slightly more convinced than ever that I was irredeemably ugly. I definitely already felt that way before, but I was firmer than ever in my conviction.

But to be honest, if I were exactly– to the ounce– at that utterly arbitrary-but-for-a-random-internet-article goal, I’d probably have still hated my body. I would likely hate it now. I will probably always hate it to some extent. I also realize how completely fucked up that is. Which is why I’m telling you not to. I’m also telling me not to, incidentally.

Here’s the weird thing: the women (also the men) I’m attracted to have B.M.I.s all over the map. If I think you’re sexy as a person, then your curvy softness, or sculpted musculature, or sparse silhouette, or bountiful roundness, your whatever is an intrinsic part of that. The quirks, the realism, the tender truths make me weak with lust because they’re so damn pretty.

But me? I can’t possibly expect anyone to like me unless I’m flawless. It feels highly insulting to others, making them look at me while I’m so imperfect!

I’m realizing, however, that pretty much all of us (except PUAs, who seem to be more the exact opposite of this) have absurdly high standards for what we’re supposed to look like, and a healthy appreciation for diversity and natural beauty in others.

So what I guess I’m saying is, you’re probably a lot sexier than you think you are. And especially if your body is healthy**, and strong, and generally does what you ask it to, you should really start loving it. Hard. Because it’s amazing. And it’s probably also really, honestly beautiful.

(image source)

* Oh no, I do realize I’m not the boss of you. I really do. Please don’t be mad.
** I’m excruciatingly aware that there’s this whole other level of complexity when you’re not healthy and your body seems like a total dick sometimes. But still, your wracked-with-pain body is very likely more lovely than you’re giving it credit for.

19 Oct

ConTuesday! History

The only people not haunted by ghosts of bonings past are virgins. And I’m not even sure about them. I have my share; some of them actually just think they’re being friendly. Silly ghosts. Here are other peoples’. No one knows whose…

I had to tell my veryvery recent ex that I was diagnosed with HPV today. He reacted pretty badly, coming down with slut-shaming, insisting he could not have been the source, and showing he was incredibly ill-informed about STIs, and generally being the reason people fear disclosing disease statuses. Before the conversation, I’d been depressed about the breakup, wishing he’d fall for me again, but his reaction cured me of that. I feel much better. Now if only I could get rid of this infection, too…

Isn’t it great when an ex just keeps validating and validating your breakup? It really helps with the closure. More on HPV in a minute…

I just found out I have HPV and it feels like my days of being a slut are over. I’m hoping you/QP readers can reassure me that there is still casual sex after stigma-heavy STI diagnoses…

I don’t think I’m alone in thinking of HPV as a sort of common cold of STIs. Tons of people have it without even knowing about it, and most of the time it clears up on its own (although it can take a while). I know a lot of people who’ve been diagnosed with HPV and work around it very easily using good communication and safer sex. They have plenty of willing partners and have a ton of fun. Just make sure you have regular pelvic exams, especially if it’s one of the strains known to cause cervical cancer.

If I were newly diagnosed with HPV I’d figure, “hey, it’s a virus that my body can kill…” and try to boost my immune system. If you want to try that, there are tons of suggestions online. More basically, pretend you just learned you have Mononucleosis or a cold that’s hard to shake. Cut out booze, cigarettes, junk food for a while (assuming you partake in any of these). Exercise, eat fruits and veggies, and try to minimize stress. Vitamin C, Vitamin D, Astragalus, fish oil, or other supplements might help. And drink lots of clear fluids, just like the doctors say.

All I want is a romantic partner who will not see my sexual history and lifestyle as a neutral at best or downside at worst. I want someone who will hear what a slut I am and find me desirable, and not in the ‘she’s easy’ way. I want a fellow slut to ask me about my adventures and share her/his/hir own, a slut who gets that ‘casual’ sex can be like traveling abroad – a way to grow, a source of a million experiences, feelings, theories, a valuable part of an identity and life story. It seems like too much to ask.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I just think it takes some searching. Good luck!

My boyfriend is wonderful, but I still miss pussy. Monogamy is hard.

Yes. Yes it is.

Do you have a secret, a regret, a rant, a fantasy, or a triumphant squee and no one to share it with? Right here.

23 Sep

Sexyfail: Sick and wrong

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the sicker I get, the less sexy I feel. I’m pretty sure these phenomena are related.

If you’ve read my blog at all, you may have gotten the impression by now that I generally don’t consider myself sexy.  It’s true; I don’t. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to wake up one day and think “I am a reasonably sexy person. People might want to have sex with me, and I can’t find a damn reason to blame them!” In my head that story ends with mocking laughter and villagers with torches.

But upon further examination I have to concede that I absolutely must have some degree of self esteem and a modicum of self-conceived sexiness, because I have been losing it steadily for months now.

I don’t think that people with chronic illnesses and disabilities can’t be sexy. That is not the message I’m trying to send and it isn’t what I believe. I would like to subvert the “sexless cripple” trope better than I currently do (although I am having better sex now than I ever had when I was healthy and able bodied, so I could also be challenging it less). I wish I had the talent and moxie to be a living embodiment of disabled sex bomb, both because I’d feel like I was breaking down barriers and because I’d take so much marvelous advantage of it. Wouldn’t I just!

The sad reality, though, is that I’m not disabled in a static way; I’m also sick. That means when I’m least abled I’m also feeling the most pain, and I’m the most bedridden (and not in any possible convoluted sexy meaning of that term). When I have energy and less severe headaches, my disability gets less and less visible. That makes me a pretty terrible poster child for working around limitations. I’m more of an example of being hit by limitation buses and staying in traction for weeks on end. And so, I paradoxically feel less and less sexy the more time I spend in bed.

But you know what? Horsefeathers! Of course I’m sexy, now more than ever! Sure, I walk like Torgo from Manos: The Hands of Fate, but did you know that his character was supposed to be a satyr? And those guys were all about sex! And tragically ill heroines are pretty popular: Satine, Mimì, Mandy Moore, and yes, perhaps even Inara (although, to be fair, all those chicks are dying, so there isn’t a clear correlation between long-term, debilitating, but not-imminently-fatal illness and being erotically enticing. But let’s ignore that for the moment). Clearly, I should be at my absolute peak of power when I’m at my sickest.

But even if I am, today, at this very moment, the sexiest I will ever be, I do not have the fucking energy to enjoy it.