My Marriage Pain
t was 1985 and I hadn’t yet become the sex goddess that I am today. At the time, I had been married for 7 years to a husband that was kind to me but sadly, wasn’t too adventurous when it came to spicing up our sex life. Sex was okay and sure, I orgasmed and all that, but it wasn’t anything I anxiously pursued or looked forward to with unbridled anticipation. Yeah, it was just okay.
The year before, we had gone through marriage counseling which helped us as a couple while also making us stronger individuals in our relationship. Whether the counseling helped to expose cracks in our marriage or going through it was just a necessity of a maturing marriage, I don’t know, it just created a shift nonetheless.
Sex continued after our brief counseling sessions and I noticed that I was beginning to experience sharp pain while being penetrated. I changed positions, thinking it might be something as simple as that but moving around didn’t help. It was different than a monthly cramp: it was like a knife was being inserted into my vulva when we wanted to fuck. Penetration wasn’t fun and it quickly became an issue between us, no matter how we tried to make it comfortable for me.
After a few weeks of this, I finally blurted “I better get this checked!” and soon made an appointment with my gynecologist.
During my appointment, the doctor gently slid the speculum inside which caused a little yelp to slip out and a quick cramping, neither of which had happened during previous exams. I knew something was off.
The doctor didn’t detect any abnormal growths either inside or outside of my vulva which would have contributed to my discomfort. He suggested that perhaps the cause of my pain was internal and could only be diagnosed with a laparoscopy. He then shared his guess as to what it could be and I researched the suspected cause with veracity.
Turns out, a major cause for women’s internal vaginal pain is endometriosis, a disorder where the tissue that normally lines the uterus, decides to take a field trip around the body, most often landing on the ovaries, fallopian tubes, the intestines, the cul de sac (the area directly behind the base of the uterus and in front of the rectum), on the fallopian tubes, on the outside of the uterus, basically, anywhere else in the body although it usually sticks around the reproductive organs (literally and figuratively). The cells can randomly land on active nerve endings, wreaking havoc on the pain scale OR the cells can land on areas without direct contact with nerve endings in the body and when this happens, the unsuspecting woman, in the throes of trying to get pregnant, finds out her reproductive organs are a mess. Why a mess? Well, turns out those traveling cells know they should fill up with blood every month when they line the uterus but since they are confused and misplaced in the body, they just continue their purpose, fill up with blood and spit it out on schedule. But your body doesn’t think those cells should be there so they attack the cells with scar tissue to kill them and make them go away. But they don’t. They stick to their monthly schedule of swelling up and spitting out blood in places they shouldn’t so it’s basically impossible to combat this cellular imbalance. The body continues to add to scar tissue, adding to pain (again, depending on where the cells land) and infertility and that’s why there is no cure for endometriosis. Yep. No cure.
I knew I must have had it because what else would explain this pain that came out of nowhere? I was anticipating my procedure with relief to finally find out what was going on.
The results of the “lap” (as they call it in medical shorthand) did, in fact, have me diagnosed with Stage 1, mild, endometriosis, located primarily in my cul de sac. Whew! It WAS something and what a relief it was to know there was a real cause for my pain.
In my search for more information about this imbalance I found I had, I learned about the nationwide resource, the Endometriosis Association, and joined right away. Offering support and no-nonsense information, the monthly newsletter and in person meetings helped quell my building anxiety about this oft-misunderstood disease. I learned I was not alone and what my options were after diagnosis.
With the belief that by stopping my periods using steroids (androgen, male-based hormones), my gynecologist prescribed me large doses of Danocrin, the trade name for danazol, a male steroid. That’s sure to stop any period, that’s for sure! I was given a six month regiment to put it to rest and make my endometriosis go away instead of opting for surgery since I had only a mild case of the disease. And I sure as hell didn’t want pregnancy to allay my period, either!
The six month dosing of steroids made me get puffy, of course, as steroids often do, yet did little to diminish my penetrative pain. I still had sex and was extremely careful to just breathe through it because even though I knew it would be painful, I was just plain horny.
By the time the six months of steroids was over, my husband and I were quite aware that we were drifting further apart in our tenuous marriage. For the first time in almost a decade, we decided to spend Christmas separately with the comfort of our families, mine in New Jersey and his on Cape Cod.
We both came to the conclusion that we needed to separate in order save what little remains of marriage we had. It was, indeed, a painful time for us, and yes, we had stopped having sex, too.
Typical of people going through separation (and ultimately, divorce), I didn’t have sex for a few months then decided to get back in the saddle. I was soon dating a single man and within a week or two, we began having sex.
But I noticed a funny thing happened. Penetrative sex was pain free, no matter what position we were rollicking in, no matter what time of day, no matter where we were. I guess the Danocrin worked. Maybe.
Fast forward decades later from my endometriosis, painful sex, steroids, separation and divorce experience, I have come to a very different conclusion as to the cause of my internal pain. The knowledge I have gained as a sex educator and sex coach (yes, it’s a thing), makes me realize that my discomfort was, in fact, the physical manifestation of the breakdown of the relationship I had with my husband and the slow, painful death of my seven year marriage. I have been completely symptom-free for 35 years, despite the well-known fact that there is no cure for endometriosis and statistically, I should have retained the disease throughout my days of my period and fertility.
I have experienced pain free sex for the years since I let go of salvaging my marriage the husband and wife relationship.
And the world is now a better place.
Airs-ing My Underwear
Why do women’s underwear always have white crotches?
In my life, I’ve probably owned hundreds of pair of underwear, well, not PAIRS but single ones. Wait. Why do they call them a PAIR of underwear when you wear only one at a time? I digress.
Ever since I shed my diapers for the real thing, I’ve been through the many life changes my female body can experience. First, non-descript little kids underpants that survived countless washings by my dedicated Mom. Then, with my adolescent 12-year-old body, I burst into womanhood by splotching a red blob onto my underwear while I was having fun at a friend’s sleepover. I showed my Mom my underwear and she sighed, “Yep. Looks like you just got your period.”
From there, I progressed to underwear that I wore for 5 days of the month while on the rag which had wide enough crotches to stick my maxi-pad onto or that I dared to wear while dancing around a tampon inside my virginal vagina. Yes, I kept some underwear separate because no matter how well I planned to keep them blood-free, they inevitably got stains on them.
In my 20s, I did the thong thing (which I really didn’t like but sure nicely showed off my ass), but they definitely didn’t have enough fabric in the center to hold onto ANY maxi-pad or mini-pad for that matter. They stayed in the drawer for those 5 special days of the curse until the 6th day when I could go back to showing off my ass again. My underwear, er, panties from my super sexually active days were panties that fell into the “fuck and chuck” category: wear ’em once then toss ’em and yes, they looked especially nice on the floor.
So now, at age 62, I’m ten years post-menopausal which means I no longer have to put up with that pesky monthly bleeding that I had to endure for the majority of my life and, for me, happily did not result in childbirth. That monthly period bloodletting… the one thing that ruined at least half of the underwear I’ve owned and countless sheets and I sure don’t miss it one bit.
But now, and undeniably, ALWAYS, I have had a normal female discharge that unfortunately, carelessly, stains the center of my underwear: aka crotch, aka gusset for you underwear designers out there. Yes, women will have a relatively scentless, natural discharge from a healthy vagina despite what modern media tells you.
So what’s up with that? I always thought discharge is when I wanted to return something on my credit card but no. Why don’t we just call them sexy secretions instead? Discharge. It sounds oh so negative.
According to the pharmaceutical manufacturer of Monostat, the manufacturers of various treatments for those bothersome yeast infections, “Vaginal discharge comes from glands inside your vagina and cervix. These glands produce small amounts of fluid also known as vaginal secretions. The fluid flows out of the vagina each day, cleansing old cells that have lined the vagina. This is a completely natural process — it’s your body’s way of keeping your vagina healthy and clean.”
That sounds pretty good to me! I like having a clean and healthy vagina!
But something has bothered me for a long time. I think of it daily as I shimmy into my underwear in the morning. It is this: Why do underwear manufacturers insist on making underwear with a lining in the crotch made of white fabric? Is it some kind of dirty joke to promote virginal crotch purity? Is the whiteness supposed to reflect back on my body’s natural attempt at cleaning out my vaginal lining? “Keep it clean, girls!” my underwear seems to be screaming at me. “Remember, if you get hit by a bus….” and I know you know that line.
Every year or so, I purchase new underwear so they won’t cause me spastic levels of embarrassment when I drop them in front of complete strangers. Before my morning coffee, I have to run through my schedule to try to remember if I have a doctor’s appointment, a date, or even a chance encounter with a Mr. Right Now. I have to ponder, “Is someone going to see the crotch of this underwear I’m putting on? Will I have to delicately scramble out of them so no one sees my daily vaginal secretion?” I shouldn’t have to do this and I have an idea for those underwear manufacturers out there.
Why not line the crotches of your underwear with fabric of a discharge-compatible color like ochre, or cinnamon, or some sort of light brown. Yes, light brown. I can hear you squirming this very minute. But let’s face it. These are the colors of what our underwear looks like even after wearing and washing them for the first time! These are natural bodily function colors that I am sure so many women can understand and relate to after having their secretions grace their underwear even after wearing them once. These panties are no longer virginal white. They are no longer pure. They are stained with the cells that have provided us with vaginal health. There’s gotta be a better way than dealing with white crotched underwear that slathers on the guilt by forcing me to wear a panty liner so I don’t have to look at yet another pair of underwear with a sexy secreted, light browned white crotch.
I thought I’d be done with this after I jumped over the menopause hurdle. But no, my secretions still gently evacuate my vagina on a daily basis which reflects my good general health and well being. So I guess I’ll just have to keep buying new underwear for as long as I live and yeah, I STILL have super sexually active days.
Innovation, Customer Service Buck Motorbunny Into the Forefront
I love my job. I really do. With 26 years of experience in the sex toy industry under my belt and in my panties, I think I’ve done it all and seen it all — up until now.
Imagine my utter thrill in getting the latest incarnation of the innovative Motorbunny to straddle and review. And imagine my continued thrill to be able to enjoy every pulse and thrust with my every cell while riding this amazing power pack of pleasure. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
People buying a Motorbunny are investing in their sex lives and they deserve to have it be a reliable product that works.
Saddle-type, riding pleasure machines have been around for quite some time and it wasn’t until five years ago that Caleb Thompson, co-founder of Motorbunny, decided that there needed to be an addition to the one product that dominated the market for decades. He realized that the single product available was priced really high, was never on sale or had a promotional discount, and most of all, lacked change or innovation in that category.
“Me and my partners come from a corporate IT background and we’re all serial entrepreneurs,” shared Thompson. “Despite the fact that we all are uninterestingly vanilla, we thought this would be an interesting opportunity to not only improve the product but also offer a comparable one for $800 less than the forerunner.”
He continued, “Brooks Butler is the other co-founder. Brooks has a start-up background, and is the technology expert in the team. He is absolutely relentless in challenging the status quo. Brooks is the guy who will keep Motorbunny in the lead position as a technology innovator in our industry.”
Craig Mewbourne rounds out the founders’ trio as the chief marketing officer. His experience is working with marketing firms representing large global companies and now he focuses on the fierce customer service Motorbunny is known for.
The team got hard at work in their offices in the Midwest, making sure that Motorbunny was going to fill the holes the other product left behind. (Holes in the behind — yes, that’s one way to use it!) They felt that users would be more inclined to use a saddle stimulator that would vibrate and thrust instead of simply spin around and vibrate —which were the only options for the other product. Given the popularity of more commonly available thrusting (aka “fucking”) machines, they knew this would make the Motorbunny different, offering thrusting and vibration while experiencing the comfort of straddling a saddle rather than having to stand or be on all fours to receive the thrusts from a large, clunky, all metal “standard” fucking machine that didn’t even vibrate.
There was more the Motorbunny team wanted to perfect. They wanted to combine durability and quality since they found the machine would have to endure not only excessive use but also being toted around to clubs, parties, dungeons and other places where like-minded penetration practitioners populate.
Thompson explained, “These machines have to be industrial strength for all kinds of wear and tear. People buying a Motorbunny are investing in their sex lives and they deserve to have it be a reliable product that works; and if they have trouble with it, they should have someone stand behind it and resolve it for them.”
This is another way Motorbunny differentiates itself from other saddle-type pleasure products currently available.
Thompson boasted, “Our customer service is like no other in the industry. We are obsessive about our customers and feedback from them regarding everything from the texture of the cover, to the packaging and then incorporating that feedback with every single manufacturing cycle we go through. We usually go through six or seven manufacturing cycles, consistently listening to customer feedback when we make changes.”
Never satisfied with just one product, two years ago, Motorbunny began to add to their line and develop the Motorbunny Buck, combining the best vibrating features of the original with customer-demanded thrusting ability. The Buck is a technologically advanced pleasure device with several patents pending the company developed to cross over into the thruster category.
Thompson expanded about the project. “We realized there are two worlds that have the same customer base. We looked at our customer profiles and they are the same people who spend $2,500 for a thrusting machine. We decided we could make a thruster and vibe and come up with a winner. Bam! It’s a premium experience out of the box. We did everything to make the Buck an incredible experience for the buyer. Bluetooth works right out of the box, the knobs are easy to use, can be used with internet control, there’s preset patterns and it also offers a right angle wedge.
So about that wedge and the amazing Buck. I tried it. I rode it. Here goes:
Basically, it’s everything you need for an incredible, penetrable ride of your life. Being a G-spot girl myself, let me take it from the top.
The unboxing ceremony was astonishing. Everything is carefully packaged and the unit even includes a universal adapter since Motorbunny’s customer base is often from several countries. See what I mean about customer service?
There are 10 components in the box, including two, slightly differently shaped toggles that are the secret sauce in making the Buck extra special. The silicone covers for the mechanism and for thrusting have a smooth, high-quality feel and offer just enough firmness and flexibility for a fun bucking.
I started out, as the fine folks at Motorbunny suggested I do, with the low, flat attachment that provided steady external stimulation and got me in the groove to learn how to grind into the saddle. Sure, I do that all the time when I’m getting it on but this time, humping the Motorbunny Buck was a different experience.
And what an experience it was! Using the straight toggle, I screwed it into the base so it pointed directly up. I slipped on the thumper attachment, which has the ribs on the shaft that I know and love, and it was just long enough without being too wide. After drizzling on a bit of water-based lube, I positioned myself on the Buck “top, dead center” and twisted the control knobs for both vibration and up and down thrusting. Whew! What a ride!
Wanting to hop on the Motorbunny even more, I removed the thumper, unscrewed the thrust toggle, and screwed in the G-thrust toggle, which allows the Buck to buck at that G-spot angle so many women love. It’s actually an up and forward thrust. I put on the “sweet spot” attachment that has the “come here” finger bend in it and also has a wider base to allow for a different, thrusting experience.
And yes, it was different! The impressive thing about using this attachment and toggle was that it is at the perfect angle for hitting the G-spot. Think erect penis and the angle for Mr. Happy and you get the idea. And imagine straddling the never-ending thrust and vibration Buck can provide. Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about!
Truth be told, aside from a good ol’ straddle session (which is easily done on the Buck), I also like it doggie style and that’s what the included right angle wedge provides. It lifts one end of the Buck to give a butt-in-the-air ride and even allows the unit to sit firmly on its end to give a real poking from behind. Now that position really got me going as I kept increasing the speed and intensity of the vibrations.
When I was done with my ride, I was done! It was an explosive experience and I lost count of how many times I orgasmed on it.
Being the technology-driven company that they are, the Buck just gets better! The gizmo can be controlled remotely, either from across the room or across the world via the Motorbunny LINK app. Imagine the satisfaction a rider can get with the surprise of different thrusts and vibrations from a lover, far, far away.
Those Motorbunny guys will be smiling as much as I did after hopping on and getting the Bucking of my life. Thanks for making such an awesome product. Keep up the great work!
And for extra fun when you can’t actually ride your Motorbunny Buck, download the FappyBunny app developed by Motorbunny, which will keep you entertained and thinking about having more fun on the actual saddle itself.
4 Sex Toy Shows: ANME, XBIZ, SHE and AVN
For those of us in the adult toy industry, January kicks off the year as the crazy month, at least for those of us behind the counter. I’m dizzy with the FOUR shows within two weeks starting on Monday, that let me learn, share, buy, grow and my favorite, schmooze. ANME, XBIZ, SHE and AEE/AVN. Hold on to your seats and join me for this whirlwind schedule.
ANME, the Adult Novelty Manufacturers Expo, is the beginning of the series of shows on January 12 and 13. While January is considered the slower show of the two shows, the other being held in July), everyone always poses the question: “What’s new?” Ah yes, what’s new. I am sure I’ll be seeing plenty of new styles of pink rabbits, more BDSM related products because of the impending release of the hotly anticipated movie “Fifty Shades of Grey.” The printed version caused a frenzy in our industry two years ago and many of us are hoping that when people actually SEE the dominant and submissive action between the two characters, that they’re gonna run right out and buy lots and lots of equipment from us. Sportsheets is anticipating a newly minted audience rushing out to discreetly buy kits and have prepped themselves with their cleverly titled Sexperiments line, which is so new, we don’t even have them yet on the GrandOpening.com website! But check it soon! I’m sure there will be plenty more at the show and I can’t wait to see everything.
Right after ANME is the XBIZ360 show from January 13-16. It’s a really good, trade only networking and learning event that’s really good. It’s not so much booth oriented but allows plenty of time for schmoozing (my favorite!) and the learning is excellent. Even I learn a lot when I’m there (especially when I poke my head into the adult film and web masters parts of it). It offers all the cousins in the smut family: adult film industry, the adult toy industry, the adult web industry, or in any aspect of the adult pleasure industry so it’s always fun to get together during this perverted kind of family gathering. My favorite! XBIZ Industry Executive Awards with YOURS TRULY being nominated as Community Executive of the Year! Can’t wait for that and wish me luck! I’ve been in the biz for 22 years now and in LOTS of communities in this wacky industry I love so much. Stay tuned! I’ll let you know when I win!
And the XBIZ Awards on January 15 are gonna be so hot, it’s gonna scorch the Nokia Theatre in downtown LA! It’s gonna be great. My favorite new gizmo, Bubble Love, is nominated in a few categories so I’ll keep my fingers crossed we win!
The XBIZ 360 event runs into the SHE show which is the Sexual Health Expo, put on by XBIZ at the Sofitel Hotel in Beverly Hills on the weekend of January 17-18. It IS a consumer show and I’m sure there will be many hungry and savvy sex curious attendees wanting to attend every workshop offered. And yes, there are awards to be given out over the weekend for the top female sexual health products on the market today. Another award show, another dress, no problem!
Then it’s home for two days to catch my breath and do laundry and other shit around the house (do I buy groceries?!?) before I drive out to Vegas for the granddaddy of ’em all, the AVN show, aka the big ass porno convention that has been in existence for over 30 years. I’ve been going to it since about 1997 and it’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It’s pretty whack and it’s at the Hard Rock from January 21-24. It’s a crazy time keeping up with all the action there which covers the gamut but in a very different way from all the other shows, mixed with industry folks and a shitload of fans, which I love and drive me crazy at the same time.
And yes, there’s not one but TWO award shows during the event: the O Awards for the adult novelty products and the AVN Awards for all of the other parts of the industry (including – ADULT NOVELTIES!!). That’s two more dresses I need to get!
On Sunday, January 25, I am happy to announce that I’ll be recovering, from what, I don’t know. I’ll be driving back and will leave early enough to avid the stampede down the 15 back home to LA. Two weeks of shows that are back to back and front to front will keep me at a crazy pace and force me to drink far too many 5 Hour Energy Shots (my favorite ones being orange and grape). I’ll have a lot to write about so as they say in Hollywood (or at least they USED to), “Stay tuned!”
Okay, I’m going to start a tradition which is one of my favorites. As you may know, I have been blogging on XBIZ for years (here’s the link) and I always write a Joke Of The Blog at the end of it, so why not here?
So here’s the first one… there will be a lot more…
Speaking of Vegas, one night a couple had angry sex. You know, the kind you get through because you want to spite your partner, and you get through it but when you’re finished, you know you’re done. After the woman had sex with her husband, she angrily pulled on her clothes, started packing her suitcase and barked “That’s it. I’m done. I’m moving to Las Vegas where I can get $300 for what I just did with you.” Her husband looked up at her and said “Ya think you can survive on $900 a year?”
FOUR Sex Toy Shows this month: ANME, XBIZ, SHE and AEE!
For those of us in the adult toy industry, January kicks off the year as the crazy month, at least for those of us behind the counter. I’m dizzy with the FOUR shows within two weeks starting on Monday, that let me learn, share, buy, grow and my favorite, schmooze. ANME, XBIZ, SHE and AEE/AVN. Hold on to your seats and join me for this whirlwind schedule.
ANME, the Adult Novelty Manufacturers Expo, is the beginning of the series of shows on January 12 and 13. While January is considered the slower show of the two shows, the other being held in July), everyone always poses the question: “What’s new?”
Ah yes, what’s new. I am sure I’ll be seeing plenty of new styles of pink rabbits, more BDSM related products because of the impending release of the hotly anticipated movie “Fifty Shades of Grey.” The printed version caused a frenzy in our industry two years ago and many of us are hoping that when people actually SEE the dominant and submissive action between the two characters, that they’re gonna run right out and buy lots and lots of equipment from us. Sportsheets is anticipating a newly minted audience rushing out to discreetly buy kits and have prepped themselves with their cleverly titled Sexperiments line, which is so new, we don’t even have them yet on the GrandOpening.com website! But check it soon!
I’m sure there will be plenty more at the show and I can’t wait to see everything.
Right after ANME is the XBIZ360 show from January 13-16. It’s a really good, trade only networking and learning event that’s really good. It’s not so much booth oriented but allows plenty of time for schmoozing (my favorite!) and the learning is excellent. Even I learn a lot when I’m there (especially when I poke my head into the adult film and web masters parts of it). It offers all the cousins in the smut family: adult film industry, the adult toy industry, the adult web industry, or in any aspect of the adult pleasure industry so it’s always fun to get together during this perverted kind of family gathering. My favorite! XBIZ Industry Executive Awards with YOURS TRULY being nominated as Community Executive of the Year! Can’t wait for that and wish me luck! I’ve been in the biz for 22 years now and in LOTS of communities in this wacky industry I love so much. Stay tuned! I’ll let you know when I win!
And the XBIZ Awards on January 15 are gonna be so hot, it’s gonna scorch the Nokia Theatre in downtown LA! It’s gonna be great. My favorite new gizmo, Bubble Love, is nominated in a few categories so I’ll keep my fingers crossed we win!
The XBIZ 360 event runs into the SHE show which is the Sexual Health Expo, put on by XBIZ at the Sofitel Hotel in Beverly Hills on the weekend of January 17-18. It IS a consumer show and I’m sure there will be many hungry and savvy sex curious attendees wanting to attend every workshop offered. And yes, there are awards to be given out over the weekend for the top female sexual health products on the market today. Another award show, another dress, no problem!
Then it’s home for two days to catch my breath and do laundry and other shit around the house (do I buy groceries?!?) before I drive out to Vegas for the granddaddy of ’em all, the AVN show, aka the big ass porno convention that has been in existence for over 30 years. I’ve been going to it since about 1997 and it’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It’s pretty whack and it’s at the Hard Rock from January 21-24. It’s a crazy time keeping up with all the action there which covers the gamut but in a very different way from all the other shows, mixed with industry folks and a shitload of fans, which I love and drive me crazy at the same time. And yes, there’s not one but TWO award shows during the event: the O Awards for the adult novelty products and the AVN Awards for all of the other parts of the industry (including – ADULT NOVELTIES!!). That’s two more dresses I need to get!
On Sunday, January 25, I am happy to announce that I’ll be recovering, from what, I don’t know. I’ll be driving back and will leave early enough to avid the stampede down the 15 back home to LA. Two weeks of shows that are back to back and front to front will keep me at a crazy pace and force me to drink far too many 5 Hour Energy Shots (my favorite ones being orange and grape). I’ll have a lot to write about so as they say in Hollywood (or at least they USED to), “Stay tuned!”
Okay, I’m going to start a tradition which is one of my favorites. As you may know, I have been blogging on XBIZ for years (here’s the link) and I always write a Joke Of The Blog at the end of it, so why not here? So here’s the first one… there will be a lot more…
Speaking of Vegas, one night a couple had angry sex. You know, the kind you get through because you want to spite your partner, and you get through it but when you’re finished, you know you’re done.
After the woman had sex with her husband, she angrily pulled on her clothes, started packing her suitcase and barked “That’s it. I’m done. I’m moving to Las Vegas where I can get $300 for what I just did with you.”
Her husband looked up at her and said “Ya think you can survive on $900 a year?”
Welcome 2015! My Sexy New Year's Resolutions
It’s that time of the year again, when we wipe the slate clean, throw out the old and ring in the new. New beginnings. New goals. New ideas. New, new, new. Yes, it’s the New Year and this year is gonna be different.
I resolve to keep learning as much as I can about shit I don’t know. I’ll tell ya, I always get a thrill when I learn something that I didn’t know when I take my head off the pillow in the morning. When I see someone doing something that I can’t figure out, like working on some hidden pipeline as I walk down the street, I ask them what they’re doing so I can learn even more about what’s under my feet. They are always sharing knowledge with me that goes into yet another fold of the grey matter between my ears.
Why? Because there’s too many things happening not to be! There’s an app to do just about everything, new places to discover, new restaurants to explore, new people to meet and new things to learn.
I resolve to be out there more. Yes, BE out there more. As in be in touch with more of you to spread the word about the wonderful world of sex. And motorcycles. Yep, motorcycles. More on that in another blog… And yeah, sex toys… I can’t love ‘em enough! I’ll review more, post more, post more videos and get more yummy tidbits out there, just for you. And please feel free to share…
But back to sex. It’s such an amazing thing, it really is, and has been such an integral part of my life for decades. I have experienced so much and only feel that I’m just beginning. Like 2015. And I’ll share those experiences with you and of course, change the names to protect the not too innocent!
So here’s to a fantastic 2015. I know I’ll be adding lots more here, having special events, discounts, tidbits and stuff posted. Just the way I like it – connecting with you and sharing true tales of sex, sextoys, lust, love, motorcycles, Grand Opening! and anything else that comes to mind. Please join me!
Lots of love,
Kim
Happily Losing It
I was thinking… I happily and pleasantly lost my virginity when I was 15 because I didn’t want to die not knowing what fucking was like. It was beautiful. I don’t remember any pain. It was with a steady boyfriend and we’re still in touch. He went the family route and married a long time pal and schoolmate of my 2 year younger sister. They had a bunch of daughters and are grandparents several times over. I’m glad I made my choice of living vicariously through others’ offspring.
When I was 17, I experienced my first and still ONLY EVER double penetration with two guys who were hydroplane racers. This is something I did in my teens with my dad. The racing, not the double penetration. It was, as they always will be, quite acrobatic and the cheap hotel off the circle near the Atlantic City Raceway is long gone as are the two other guys having lost touch with them shortly afterwards. But the remembrance of a really hot fucking night (yes – both ways, so to speak), shall remain. My butthole and vag are twitching thinking about it and I am sure they felt lucky they got to fuck the adventurous girl who was underage.
I’ve always been attracted to older men. When my father and I went on our hydroplane racing field trips (yes, I raced my own boat over two summers, too), my dad and I would share a hotel room and I’d go off to fuck guys twice my age. When I was 16 and 17. If I’d do that now, the guys would be dead. Ah youth. I loved it.
Image source: Flickr
The Growth of Trees
October 1, 2013
Here I am, visiting Boston for a few rushed days of motorcycle riding with my beloved club to throwing out a Facebook invitation to whoever reads it to meet me at the Boston institution, Doyle’s, in Jamaica Plain and ending up seeing two dear friends there. The air has the crispness of a New England Macoun apple and the leaves are just beginning to twirl down to earth in their annual autumnal dance. It is fall. It is Boston. It is New England.
Image Source: Zach Den Adel
Sometimes I feel compelled to drive past where I lived during my 26 years in The Hub, as it’s known to locals and the world. During these few past days, I got to go past at least three of them, one in Jamaica Plain where I lived for almost 10 of those 26 years before the infection of condoization coursed its way through my below market rent apartment building. I was on the subway when the rickety train of the southbound orange line rumbled past the industrial loft I lived in for a year. Hated it. No cappuccinos within a mile from the place that was adjacent to a chop shop everyone knew about but no one said anything as if it wasn’t really there.
And then there was the third place. Not that I lived in only three places during those years, no, no, no. It was more like nine different places I called home. But this one place is the one that makes me reflect on 26 years in basically the same hometown. One glance of it and I realized how big those years were in the timeline of my life, almost half of it, in fact.
The trees. The two decker house was a mere 100 yards from the MassPike extension that slices through the middle of the state then makes it’s way into Boston after coursing through the western suburbs. When I moved there in 1984, the trees were thin and the weeds were short even though they really weren’t maintained, just that the cold, harsh winters would kill any pesky new growth that would crop up year to year.
But the trees would stay. In the 3 years I lived in that house from 1984 to 1987, I had moved in with my husband, once had sex with a friend while both of our spouses were separately sleeping in other beds in other rooms, had my Maine Coon cat run over on the nearby busy street (the REAL Maine Coon that I had driven up to Bangor, Maine to get – he’s buried in the back yard and is probably no more than mulch at this point), brewed home brew beer with my husband and founded Boston’s first home brewing club (The Wort Processors, who are still in existence, thankyouverymuch), gone through the physical pain of sex with my husband which got diagnosed as endometriosis, stage one, did 6 months of steroids to stop my period to make the endometriosis “go away” only to figure out many decades later with my sexual awareness that it was actually the manifestation of the pain of my dissolving marriage since I’ve never had it since, separated from husband, continued to work at my commercial art job designing logos and lettering for shoe insoles only to realize that I was restless after being there almost 7 years and, having gotten officially divorced during that time, decided that I would leave Boston and New England and live in the camper that slid onto the back of a ¾ ton pickup truck that my father bought me because he realized I had dreamed that I wanted to get away from it all. And I did. For a mere six months only to return to Boston.
But the trees remain. The trees. Now so tall, now so thick with branches that they’d be impossible to count. The trees that have grown so big they block the view I once had of rumbling cars heading into Boston for their daily commute and the cars heading back home to the suburbs with their tired drivers behind the wheel. The view that I had to be able to tell what time of day it was, whether it was a weekday or a weekend, whether it was darkness or light.
The view is gone because of the trees that remain as reminders of how long ago the past is. How long ago it’s been since I was married. How long ago it was since I felt the tinge of pain of losing a beloved cat. How long ago my life was there behind the trees. How long ago I was there.
The trees tell time in a way my mind does not and they will be there forever after I’m gone with their roots firmly planted in the ground where mine no longer are.
"I have a fatal disease," he said
I thought I would share that quote with you. You know what that fatal disease is? It’s called LIFE. It will be terminal and I’ll pass when the time comes. I guess that’s why they call it “passing time.”
Source: tanakawho
With every birth there is death. It’s inevitable. I’d like to defeat that fact but I honestly don’t think I can. Sure, I could freeze my body in the hopes that it will get unfrozen someday but since I don’t like cold, I don’t think I’ll go for that. Heehee. I also found out in 8th grade that I’m allergic to formaldehyde. Yes, formaldehyde.
We were on split sessions to ease overcrowding at my school, so when I sat down at my homeroom desk in a science class, the previous students had done dissection and spilled the clear, watery fluid on the desk, leaving it for us underclassmen to clean up. When I sat in my chair, all of a sudden, my eyes started watering to the point of flooding, I raced to the nurse’s office sans hall pass, where it was quickly determined that I was allergic to formaldehyde and I would be unable to any dissections in the future. Lucky me.
But I digress. Since I can’t get embalmed because of my allergy (wait, I think I left my blonde hair color on too long), I decided that when I go, I am going to donate my body to science. I love science strictly as an observer, especially when it comes to sex science but that’s another blog. Hopefully, I’ll make the world a better place even when I’m done with my shell.
But I have no idea when that time will come. I just know it will.
I have a friend who recently got diagnosed with some strange lung disease that the doctor said is fatal. The doctor told him that he has about a year and a half to go and my friend is really depressed about it.
But in a strange way, we have death in common. I have always been one to live each day as if it were your last because you know what? You REALLY have no idea if it is. I mean, people get killed waiting for a bus at a bus stop, thinking that the safety of a 6 inch curb is going to prevent some asshole from jumping it and slicing into them while they are waiting to go to work.
People drive down the highway in their cars, oblivious that the vehicle next to them may have that person’s expiration date invisibly etched onto the side of their car. Or a driver can be listening to their favorite tunes and a concrete construction pipe could roll off the truck in front of them and BLAMO. Game over. On to the next plain without any warning.
Yes, these occurrences really happened. But not to me.
So I live each moment as if it were my last. I ride a motorcycle. I’ve raced hydroplanes. I take chances. I am a risk taker. I appreciate every breath I breathe, every step I take, every time I close my eyes for restful sleep, hoping that the miracle of life will take over when I wake.
I try to share my enthusiasm for life with everyone I know. And those I don’t. I want to share my love of my precious life with my friend with the fatal disease. There is plenty of hard, scientific proof that says that a positive attitude can add years to your life and perhaps in his case, just more time (see, I told you I liked science!). But some people just continue to wallow in sadness and will always be the glum chum to me, no matter if they have days to live or the rest of their life.
So, as they say, live life to the fullest. Go for it on a daily basis… an hourly basis… a breath by breath basis. Appreciate little things, the noise and the peace. Stillness and movement. Seriousness and silliness. Darkness and light.
And when the time comes, you can die happy which to me, is the only way to go.
Now on to my next breath…