tight back muscles and bras…

so, the holidays are crazy. we all know that.

mine were a bit extra crazy.

my sister has severe postpartum depression. severe. so severe we had to send one of her kids away for four days. and this means that i didn’t have any sleep, any time for x-mas shopping, and any patience when i came to my crazy mother.

caring for someone that is sick and depressed is likely to make you the same way.

but i have come out the other side. wiser, a bit older, and realizing that my mother is one of the meanest people i know.

my sister is on the mend – though it is a long road to recovery – and i am happy to still have her. i just want to let everyone know:

postpartum depression is real. very very real.

having children is hard. very very hard.

and give all the support you possibly can to any woman in your life with a child under the age of one. she needs it. it might save her life.

+++

i have been working hard on alex. trying to get him out of his shell.

i discovered he really likes bras.

now, i am a practical girl – with big tits – who works a lot. all of this adds up to mean that i generally wear comfortable undergarments, not those horrible torturous underwire contraptions. but when i do (like twice a month) alex actually gets visibly excited.

his small comments have turned into bigger ones, until i finally noticed him staring at my cleavage more than once. i put two and two together….and awesome! i found a way to get my b.f. hard from across the room. a thing i have not been able to do till now.

i think i am going to write a long thank you card to janine – since she is the one that bought me all those bras in the first place. she is such a great friend.

i wonder what will happen when he gets this little number in the mail…

oops…

so i guess i missed my two year anniversary, my cotton year….probably because i was sorely neglecting my blog.

it was october 4th, two years ago that i started this thing.

i’ve had a few ups and downs. some insights. lots of confusion. and tons of life change since then.

i love being able to look back and see the things i was feeling internally. and thanks for everyone that listens. sorry that i have been going in fits and starts for quite some time now. but i feel myself sliding back into the saddle.

i have lots of unsettled questions in my brain.

being a grownup is hard.

again, thanks to everyone for reading and definitely for commenting. i love to start conversations.

dirty words.

writing posts feels so dirty…sort of shameful.

mostly because it is pretty much the only thing i don’t share with alex. and he is the only man i sleep with.

before, when i didn’t tell anyone about it and slept with lots of different people – it seemed fun. naughty and expressive.

now it feels like a dirty little secret. like something i hide out of fear.

+++

alex has quite an aversion to me talking about my past sex life.

he has had two sexual partners besides me. neither of whom were over the age of 20. he is a babe in the woods…he is slightly naive.

when he began meeting all my friends months ago he finally had to ask me to stop introducing him to people i had had sex with – so i just stop mentioning it in the introductions – he didn’t really know the difference.

the other day it slipped out that i fucked more than 30 people and he took it kinda hard. saying something like, “i just don’t want to know.”

and through all this, i have to “hide” my kinky side. he’s knows it exists, he just hasn’t seen it. and i don’t exactly know how to show it to him, i sort of feel like he would tell me, “i just don’t want to know.”

just like this blog. he knows about it, but he “doesn’t want to know.”

which is so fine, so i can write unfettered.

but it makes me feel shame. which is quite strange for me.

new day.

alex’s computer got stolen. from right outside my house.

a tragic loss, so we decided that it was time for new computers. for both of us.

so i am now typing on my macbook pro. it is shiny and pretty and the keys are so quiet. i hope this new advance in technology gets me up and writing more often.

the winter won’t hurt either.

+++

i went to see maxwell and maxine for thanksgiving. i had a wonderful time. i had been looking forward to seeing them for so long.

we all caught up in the kitchen. chatting about out lives.

then, on that first night, i blurted it out. “how do i deal with alex’s vanilla-ness?”

it felt so great to say that to understanding ears. most of my other friends wouldn’t/don’t get it.

we went back and forth. conjecturing and theorizing. making up ways to draw things out of him.

finally i came to the conclusion that i would simply tell him “we need to make sex more of a priority in our relationship.” simple as that.

the time spent was great. so wonderful to be in the company of great friends and their kin. so comfortable, so accepting. i do have one small regret:

i don’t feel like i spent enough quality time with maxine.

back before, when maxwell wasn’t around – she and i giggled and made up wonderful schemes and told each other dirty stories and supported each other. i feel like i got roughly 40 minutes of quality time with her this trip – while the rest was filled with kids or maxwell or food to be cooked.

i miss her dearly. so very dearly. i miss her sense of calm and her perspective on my crazy life. i miss the way she acts sweet but i know she is really thinking something dirty. i like the way she can say so much without cussing at all.

i miss her wide-eyed way of seeing some things and her wise way of seeing others.

i went home with a heavy heart – thinking she was slipping away from me. and there wasn’t anything i could do to snatch her back.

i’m childish and i want the kansas and maxine that drank wine in a dark apartment until two a.m., or took photos of ourselves for lude purposes, or shared every-single-fucking-ounce of detail about our sex and love.

what’s worse is that i didn’t realize all this until it was over. until i was on the plane going home. too late to pull her aside and beg her to speak in hushed tones about dirty things. too late to pour over her in person.

i hope christmas brings a few sacred moments with her. how quickly we forget when people are so far away.

out of sight, out of mind? right….not likely.

once upon a time…

when i first discovered sex blogs, i found a sex blog graveyard….sad, old, hollow, dried up blogs – existing only as memories, as husks of their former selves.

and i wondered: “how could anyone leave their wonderfully written, enlightened blog so neglected? what happens?”

i know what happens…life happens.

so here i have a mausoleum of times gone by…words written by a seemingly former single self. a me with more time to spare, less work to do, and a stronger drive to have fun meaningless sex with people.

kansas has been hiding. alex only knows the real me.

we have nice, kind sex. quiet, sweet sex. but i feel kansas bubbling to the surface…right now she shows herself in dreams only. for the past few weeks i have been dreaming of people other than alex…quite conscience of it. aware of it while i am dreaming.

last night i had a dream about david bowie…i asked him about what success meant to him – he told me “finding someone to have sex with on a regular basis is the most important type of success.”

that’s my man.

alex likes punk rock. owns tons of band shirts. has more sub pop records than anyone i know.

he listens to bands i and all my friends have never heard of.

sometimes i get a bit worried that may lose him to some cute punk rock girl.

in a teasing drunk moment i said, “sorry i’m not punk rock enough for you.”

“no no,” he replied, “you are wonderful…i don’t want some damn punk rock girl.”

“really?”

“yeah, that is what i thought i wanted for a long time but i don’t want some girl that is into all the stuff i am in to. that’s boring.”

my god, he’s smart.

soul food…

i cook. i cook a lot. i cook at work, it is my profession. i cook at home, i like to do it.

but sometimes i find myself whining, “no one ever cooks for me.”

that is not entirely true. my sister cooks for me, a few of my friends cook for me, my roommate sometimes cooks…but my alex never cooks. he is so fucking clueless when it comes to food. i wonder how he has survived this long.

and that is all fine and good – we all have our weaknesses and strengths – but i still find myself dragging my feet into the kitchen wishing he would cook for me…

then i made a realization today – it is not that i want him to cook for me, but rather that i want him to feed me…to nourish me…to care for me.

he is an amazing supporter of me, he listens to my bithcing, offers advice, tells me it will all work out, helps me when i need it…but i don’t get nurture. i don’t get as much preventative love as i would want.

i call his love reactive love.

he reacts to my moods, he jumps to attention when i ask, he holds my groceries and finds my glasses.

i nurture the future. i feed him so he will be healthy. i like to work out things before they become problems. i try to foresee the things we will be doing in the future and try to build our lives accordingly.

i call my love preventative love.

maybe that is why we work so well. he is dealing with right now while i deal with tomorrow.

‘a gift for your girlfriend…’

“i don’t know what’s going to happen,” alex breathed heavily into my ear.

“nothing baby, you have a case of whiskey dick.”

we had fucked for what had seemed like an hour – tied up, untied, backwards, forwards, loud and fast, quiet and soft, more and more lube. i could tell he was getting a bit exasperated.

yeah, we had had a bit to drink and it was late. his cock was rock hard for a long time. i knew nothing was going to happen, but i was milking it for all it was worth – seeing as how his stamina had started off rather low. it was our first marathon fuck.

“whiskey dick is a gift for your girlfriend. we could keep fucking but nothing will happen. i promise.”

the relief seemed to wash over his frustration.

somebody please explain…!

i am getting hundreds and hundreds of hits, but no one is leaving any comments really and i can’t tell where they are all coming from…

and it seems that everyone reads my tornado post and then leaves…what’s going on? anyone have any ideas?

sharing is caring…

alex fucked me. pulled and grabbed at me. smacked my ass.

i was feeling open.

“you know i am dirty dirty girl?”

“i assumed so.”

“i have been holding back because i haven’t wanted to freak you out.”

“that’s cool.”

“i mean, is there anything you are intersted in trying?”

“um, i don’t really know anything.”

he goes on to reveal that sex has never played a large part in his life, since he is in his mid-twenties and has only had two sexual partners. he also reveals that he sometimes feels a bit insecure knowing that i have had sex with a bunch of guys – many of which we hang out with.

i kissed and carressed and tried my best to reassure him that i would rather be fucking him than any of the other guys i have touched. it’s true. i may have had “hotter” sex or “more exicting” sex but those usually come with so much fucked up emotional trauma that it is not at all worth it…

real partnership is fucking hot. sharing all parts of me is extremely exciting. having a sweet boy that wants to learn about sex is the tops.

i don’t know where to start. i don’t know how to pull him out of his shell. the worst part is, he has a roommate and i have two. it is hard to be kinky when there are others around.

i’ve never had a blank page like this…i am usually the less freaky one…usually. i asked about fantasies, he replied – “i don’t know, they are pretty simple. sex and stuff.” it kinda made me wanna cry. i want him to be passionate about this stuff. to get excited about it. how do i get him to care more about sex?

sometimes i feel like this: