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Wax on, Wax off…

Yesterday I hand another of those “Why the HELL am I doing this again?” Experiences. Lying on the couch at the beauticians, she spreads hot wax on my mound of venus and other slightly more intimate parts then yanks it off… and I try not to scream… Well, not so much these days because it is getting easier, apart from the nusance of the ingrowing hairs! TMI? Okay… moving swiftly on.

Someone asked me  “You and Mr.Beam must be getting on great if you are having a wax?” Hmmm. Interesting question. Yes, Mr.Beam and I are getting on really well at the moment and long may that last but that is not why I get a wax.  I do it because for 2 or 3 weeks it feels so good… all silky smooth and soft to touch. It’s as much as I can do to drag my fingers away from my pussy! Of course, he’s a fan too, I hesitate to say it but if it were just for him, I’d not go through all that, perhaps just a tidy up around the edges.

I used to just have the Bikini wax, usually just if we were heading off on holiday somewhere, even if it was to go skiing, my idea of apres Ski is a bottle or two of ice cold beer consumed whilst in an outdoor hot tub. One prefers not to worry about escaping hairs in that situation. As time has gone on though, I’ve become accustomed to seeing pictures of vaginas without hair, the porn industry is responsible for a lot more metal conditioning then just bukkake… So I tend to go these days with a landing strip, I might be inclined to have it all off but (as I often say) I’m a Mummy before so many things these days and it just doesn’t seem right to me as the adult female in the house, not to have some pubic hair.

This time I was toying with a triangle or even a heart shape, I’m sure that would make him chuckle but something stopped me… Not embarrassment that is for sure, after all I just had a woman touching the entire outer pussy area, she is so very thorough sometimes I wonder as she runs her fingers over my skin.  The wax is so wonderfully warm too, perhaps it’s the pain that stops it being a turn on, because it’s not the right kind of pain for me, it just hurts like fuck. The result is so smooth and sexy though I can’t wait to offer myself up for face time.

So, really, selfishly, this is for me, I do it purely for personal reasons, it makes me feel comfortable and sexy.  If anyone else gets to enjoy it too, that is just a fringe benefit 😉

It got me wondering as I was lying there, what do other people do to themselves for themselves to make them feel sexy?

 

The Power of Sex…

I’ve been asked;

Is it the thought of sex or sex itself that is more powerful for you?

It’s an intriguing question, one which I have spent a fair amount of time considering.

The thoughts of sex? 

I do think about sex a lot, sex and entanglement, of emotion, of desire.  The flirtatious firsts, kissing, touching, words spoken, body language, the unwritten signs, sexual chemistry.  The inner workings, thought patterns, lack of thought patterns. Deeper still; the movement, texture, smell, sound. At some point during everything I write I pause and think, what is she thinking, did he like that, is this working…

What turns me on, what turns me off…

Scenarios of sex play through my mind, stories need to brew until they over boiling from my head. I actually find it hard to write to a prompt or on a specific day, for personal reasons writing erotica on a Friday or at the weekend is much harder for me.  Which is why I try extra hard to join in with the prompted time related writing – it’s the masochistic streak in me.

Words fill my mind, I find a lot of writers don’t read, to a degree I’m guilty of that too, I have my favourite blogs that I try (and usually fail) to keep up with, they are not all erotic blogs, often human interest – people intrigue me, will she, won’t she, has he? These thoughts are ultimately about sex (or money.)

I have a deep passion for carefully constructed seductive words. If I find an erotic writer who articulately expresses their writing in a way that makes my mind reel and body react I will read everything they write. Words go through my head and my body follows. The way to my passion is through words.  I appreciate their danger like so few others.

Thoughts of sex are extremely powerful. In my head sex is exciting and positive, enthralling and beguiling. Nothing ever turns me off because I won’t let it happen, it’s all rose tinted and perfect even when it’s messy and squelchy, dirty and nasty – it all flows perfectly.

Sex itself?

Is fabulous, it contains everything my kookie mind dreams up because I do like putting my thoughts into actions, my other half is open to suggestions but to be honest he is just as good at coming up with ideas and feeling how he goes as I am.

Putting him aside for a moment and considering the question from the angle my friend wanted to know about.

Sex actually can be hard to get right, so many things can let you down.  New partners although exciting a prospect do not flow like holywood movie stars, not everything will click, whilst this can be fun to fathom out it can also be difficult if you don’t know how to communicate your need, how do you say ‘actually that isn’t working’ in the full throng of fellatio ;-0

Someone says the wrong thing, misinterprets your mood, bodily functions interrupt the atmosphere. There might be too much light, not enough light, the music isn’t getting you off, you drank too much, you didn’t drink enough!

Hmmmmm…..

As I have said before, I’m a Venusian and things on Venus are much more refined then on Mars, or Earth for that matter, can a woman who dreams of perfect ever expect that to happen in real life with all it’s uncomfortable limb entangled, misunderstanding, farting, coughing, finding a stray pubic hair in your mouth mess that is REALITY??

Well, it has happened so why should it not happen again *smirks*

Now whilst you might think this answers his question and the thought is more alluring then the act I’d like to add that  my friend also asked me:

Is the thought of having an affair…. the daydreams… fantasies….. better than the real thing…. in the long run.

and to be honest with you my dear I have no idea… Is having an affair a good idea at all?  Would it not be better off being in the open? A consensual arrangement between partners of an acknowledged physical need for variety? In my dreams…

Some would say no. Because of the emotional attachment that seems to get involved, the longing, the desire, the haunting feeling that comes of not being able to have the one person you want. The futility of knowing what you have however good it was before may never be right again, not to mention living with the guilt, the betrayal.

Some would say yes. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, the discovery of a new person, the potential of fulfillment….

Sexual utopia for me would perhaps be a place where experimentation with other people is permissive IF the parties concerned were able to separate their feelings from the act, in my experience this is a rare occurrence.

I can’t help thinking that the more I think about sex and having sex, the thought of lovers and being the object of someones desire , of being wanted, held and loved for the sake of the moment the more questions I find I have…

To my friend who asked the question I’d say that any conclusions I may ever reach on the subject – and finding a conclusion is not looking good – would only ever apply to me in that moment. I can’t answer this for you.

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Purrrrfection?

I’ve been reading Molly’s Pussy Pride entries, which are like their owners I suspect, all different sizes and appearances.  I thought I’d jump on the band wagon, even though I have written about my ‘train wreck pussy’ before.  My previous post was might have been a little bit on the sarcastic side, I do suffer from that, even if my point at the end was valid. I may not of made it clear of my true appreciation of this particular piece of my anatomy.

Since May 13th I have been happily refering to my pussy as ‘my own personal train wreck’  it has ceased to worry me that it might be bigger and messier than some because of the pleasure it gives me.

The first time I can remember having an orgasm I must have been about 6, I was in my bed idly fiddling as kids do and pow! What a revelation! Since then I have happily wanked my way though my life. I’d like to point out that I have no problems with wanking – I love it, nay, I’m a bit of an addict,  it seems my last post was misinterpreted by some – my fault intirely, I’m the writer… I feel no shame in wanking at all.

My pussy has fairly large lips.  They are very sensitive and feel incredible when teased, nibbled or licked.  I can take that treatment for hours, unless I’m on a feral day. The outer lip wall protrudes slightly too, which also loves being stroked, even pinched sometimes.  Inside, my g-spot is fairly obvious if you know what you are feeling for, the skin is rougher to the touch and flatter, it has a bounce to it as you press it, feels a bit like a mini trampoline 😉  My clit is fairly well hooded but once teased out it doesn’t hold back in helping me achieve earth shattering orgasms.

My pussy changed so much after having my son, obviously cutting and forceps are never going to leave your anatomy as it was (I can almost see all the chaps cringing out there and all the ladies nodding in empathy) but I never realised how much better sex would feel once I healed, she’s so much more sensitive all round and the other half can push in so much deeper *drifts off* mmmmmm.

She is immensely well treated.  It’s the only area of my body that I will regularly go to a beauty salon for. I might get my nails done once a year and I’m toying with the idea of leg waxing… but the Brazilian is a fixture, every 6 weeks  hot wax, ouchie time – worth every penny, turning the 70’s porn star look into a silky soft haven of pussy purrrrfection.

She also has her own personal collection of toys, my beloved glass vibe, the rampant rabbit with it’s vibrating balls which is fucking wonderful but only really good for knocking the edge off my horniness (I think I might have broken that actually *sniggers*) and my bullet.  I also have a selection of other toys but perhaps that should be saved for a different post….
Pussy Pride

To start at the beginning of my journey on this blog, click here

then follow the arrows to the next post

A new thing…

I’ve found a new thing and I’m sharing in the interest of “because I can” rather than “because you will be interested” so ner.

Childish delight over 😉 I’m amazed how much such a simple thing can bring me so much pleasure! I guess I should just get on and tell you about it eh?

I’m a curvy woman, I have been curvier but at the moment I’m finding a middle ground on the curves that I’m happy with, there are one or two that need a little action (but I really hate sit ups!) and a couple of areas I’d prefer to be ‘what they once were’ but gravity is a right bitch 😦 In general, it’s taken me a while but I have come around to the idea that this body of mine is pretty alright actually.

So the new thing? It’s daft, standing up I put my hand on my back as high up as I can palm down and sweep it down the curve of my back and over the rise of my buttock until my fingertips part company just before my thigh, like a swish…. The pleasure derives from the feeling of the continuous curve, my hand encounters no bumps or love handles, my skin is as it always had been very soft and my bottom is not big! I like that part best, I think I have a nice arse, although I have been know to utter the phrase “does my bum look big in this?”

I’m finding I’m doing this swish at all sorts of moments, it makes me go ‘ahhhh’ inside and melt a little so doing it in public isn’t the best idea but it’s happening. In the supermarket yesterday when I was pondering the merits of added Omega 3 in fish fingers – swish – mmmmm… Realising what I had done I looked around carefully to check no one was watching, phew… safe.  Of course I wasn’t naked in Iceland it feels much better when I’m naked…

Good job I love being naked.

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To start at the beginning of my journey on this blog, click here then follow the arrows to the next post