The Festival of Really Good Sex! – Part Four

Hidey ho Lovers!

I hope you’re all doing well on this, my most favouritist of days, Hump Day! (Yes I know favouritist is not a word and yes, secretly Friday is my actual favourite, but doesn’t Hump day just get you so in the mood for fun?) Well, it certainly works for me Lovers! I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes casting lines on Tinder. Let’s hope someone bites! (Preferably a gentle nibble in that sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder, but I’m not fussy.)

Until then, how about I finish off my tale of super slippery sexiness? (Just a note here Lovers, if you haven’t read the last post yet I advise you to do so before you continue. You will be so confused otherwise! Wait, how did she get naked? Why is everyone slippery? What on Earth is that?)

So, now that we’re all up to date, let’s dive back in!

After I had sufficiently soaked up enough Nuru from my squirming on the tarp I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see both my group members staring off to the side, transfixed.

“Look, just look,” said Darren breathlessly.

I looked up just as he said and the breath was literally stolen from my lungs.

There, right in front of my eyes was a mass of roiling, slippery, entwined bodies. I hadn’t even noticed people begin to clump together, so ensconced in my own little group was I. But now it was all I could do to look away for even a moment!

Shrieks of delight rang out as the group began to slide over each, effortlessly making it from one side of the room to the other atop the churning crowd beneath them.

I watched, mouth agape, as people literally dove into the mass of people as if it were a swimming pool. The most incredible part of it was when they would disappear from sight and resurface metres away, having ridden the slippery wave of people as far as the Nuru would allow.

I began to worry when individuals didn’t resurface for some time, fearing they may have actually drowned in the slick, stirring mass of people (not a bad way to go, as it happens) but then they would always reappear, laughing hysterically (if not a little breathlessly) and preparing to dive back into the fray once more.

Darren readied himself to jump in and I instinctively grabbed his arm and said, “wait, don’t go!”

He looked at me quizzically and asked, “why not?”

I paused, trying to think of some excuse to make him stay on the edge with me.

But that’s when it hit me.

I was holding Darren back because I was too nervous to dive in myself. Pfft, what a wuss!

There was no way I was going to admit I was apprehensive out loud though.

No no Lovers. I have a tendency to think about sexual encounters the same as any dangerous situation. Play it cool, wear lots of deodorant and never, never let them sense your fear.

There was only one thing for it, I had to make the leap myself and hope for the best.

I sent a quick prayer to the sex gods, knowing there was a more than average chance that my slide across the room could well leave me face first in a slippery ass crack, and leapt into the throng.

Only to come to a grinding halt two people in.

That’s the thing about Nuru bodygliding Lovers, you actually have to be coated in the stuff for it to work!

As it turns out, my skin (much like my minge) was ravenously soaking up the Nuru as fast as it was being applied!

Gah! How was I supposed to slide around if the damn gel kept drying up? Luckily my very helpful boys noticed my conundrum and motioned over one of the volunteers doling out the Nuru.

They quickly explained my ‘situation’ and before I knew it I was saturated in an entire bottle of the stuff!

“Go, go!” Cried the boys encouragingly and once more I flung myself into the crowd.

This time was much more successful. I giggled uncontrollably as I effortlessly slid over faces, stomachs, feet and all manner of body parts. My main fear was crushing some poor man’s wang as I flew past, as almost all the boys were raised to at least half mast (it may not have been a ‘sexual’ experience per say, but you show me a straight guy who can stay soft in a room with thirty naked women and I’ll eat my hat!) Luckily no men were injured in my first foray into the crowd, however I landed with a smack against the wall.

It’s ok, I broke the impact with my kneecaps.

Fuuuuuuccccckkkk!

Once I recovered somewhat from my little tête-à-tête with the wall I was able to take stock of my situation. I was right in the thick of the action now, and I let my mind go blank as I tried to soak up everything I was seeing and feeling, imprinting the images on my Nuru glazed brain.

It wasn’t long before I was joined by Anna, one of the girls I had gotten to know pretty well over the course of the day. She slid across five or ten people with a grace I envied before coming to rest beside me with a cute little squelch.

“Guess what?” She whispered in a conspiritual voice.

“What?” I asked breathlessly as a middle-aged woman slid shrieking across my stomach.

“I’m wet!” She exclaimed.

For a moment I was puzzled, and opened my mouth to agree that yes we were all indeed, wet, when suddenly I grasped her meaning.

The bitch was completely turned on!

Of course I didn’t blame her, the guy she had met at the festival was basically every woman’s wet dream and he had been slithering his gorgeous bod all over her for the past hour. I was just jealous of her abilities.

A quick check of my own lady garden revealed not a hint of salad dressing betwixt my leaves, even with the crazy amount of penis being thrust into my face.

Unintentionally of course, the intentional thrusting was to be saved for other classes later in the day.

But there wasn’t much time to dwell on lubricant inadequacies, as the surging crowd quickly enveloped me once more.

I lay there, doing as everyone else did, (which basically meant just stroking everything in front of me as it appeared then disappeared,) when suddenly the smoothest pair of legs I had ever laid hands on came within my grasp.

“Good god woman,” I gasped, “how did your legs get so smooth?”

As it turned out, the follicly challenged pins belonged to Anna, but in the knot of people they could have belonged to anyone.

Damn, was there nothing this girl couldn’t do?

As I continued to stroke the hairless unicorn’s legs I questioned her about how she achieved such a magnificent result.

We were chatting about the wonders of laser hair removal when suddenly a voice issued from the other side of the room, “but how many sessions did you do?”

Before we knew it the voice was closely followed by an extremely excited woman, eagerly clawing her way across five men in order to join the conversation.

Geez, even in a room full of fifty naked people; boobs, butts and wangs in every direction, you can always trust girls to chat about beauty regimes.

It’s clearly a built in quality.

By the time the conversation drew to a close we realised we had monopolised a good portion of the women in the room, much to the chagrin of the waiting naked men.

Oops.

We all giggled and pushed ourselves outwards, allowing the Nuru to redistribute us wherever it saw fit.

I ended up sliding right into a scene from Dante’s Inferno, as one of the more adventurous men stood, raised his arms and cried, “come to me, Devil children!”

You just had to laugh; the situation was so absurd!

However, my laughing soon stopped when I realised the predicament I was in. I had let myself become so loose, so relaxed, that my limbs simply flailed where they liked.

Usually they slid off other body parts with ease, but this time, the heel of my foot was… stuck.

And warm.

I realised what had happened the same time the unfortunate woman did, and I slowly and carefully retracted my foot from her vagina, issuing heartfelt apologies as I did so.

I wouldn’t say the act of penetrating someone with my foot was on my sexual bucket list, but I guess I can officially tick it off now.

Huzzah for new experiences!

Although seriously though if the woman involved ever reads this I am really very sorry and hopefully my heel didn’t cause damage or incite an intense foot fetish.

I’ll say this at the end now Lovers, if you’re planning on partaking in bodygliding, prepare yourself.

Have a shower, cut your nails and if there’s time, rub your feet in coconut oil. You never know where they’ll end up…

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: If I flip this coin, what are the chances of me getting head tonight?

 

 

 

 

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The Festival of Really Good Sex! Part Three

Olah Lovers!

And how are we all this fine afternoon? I’ll tell you how I am, damn smelly that’s what! Nothing like having the gas shut off for three days to really put a dampener on your showering routine. Seriously Lovers, I tried hopping in for a cheeky rinse yesterday and my arm started to turn blue after only twenty seconds! Sure, part of that is my terrible circulation, but the other half of it would be the fact that it’s fricking freezing!

So, now that you’re all aware of my pungent predicament, I think it’s time we move on, yes?

Back to FORGS!

Now where exactly did we leave off? Ah that’s right, erotic rope! That must mean foot worship is next!

Strap yourself in Lovers, this could get wild!

Well, that’s what I thought anyway, but as it turned out the foot pampering class was rather G-rated.

I walked into the room, ready for some foot action, and was greeted by a cute kids paddling pool. (It didn’t exactly scream sex to me.)Volunteers were in the process of filling it with water (warm water, thankfully). It was obvious the organisers didn’t expect many participants, as there were only about ten chairs set up around the pool. By the time class was ready to start however, there were at least twenty of us. (I guess people weren’t keen on the other workshop, as it involved ‘erotic dancing’. Not my cup of tea at all. I prefer to dance one of two ways, either alone or drunk.)

Anyways, the twenty of us stood around the pool as Mistress Minx and Kinta began to explain the whole idea of foot worship. I was glad it was these two running the workshop again. I really enjoyed their sexy vibe and they made the whole room feel closer. Which is kind of ironic because boy did we have to get close to fit into that kiddy pool! Although it was supposed to be a ‘cleansing ritual’ full of lingering silences and attention to small sensations, it turned into a bit of a squeal fest as we all clung to each other, desperately trying not to fall over.

It may not have been what Kinta and Minx were after, but it was still fun, and that’s what counts, right?

After the squealing and giggling had subsided, it was time to pick a partner. Now Lovers, I have no issues with feet, they don’t disgust me in any way, and I have had many shoved in my face over the years (mainly by my big sister in order to gross me out with her ingrown toe-nail. It really was truly disgusting.) So if I can put up with that, a stranger’s foot poses no problem for me. Perhaps it was lucky for my partner that I am so open to all types of feet, as the poor girl had lost both her big toenails after a hiking trip.

And when I say lost, I mean they were still there, they were just brown and dead.

Delicious, huh?

But hey, I was just happy to have a partner I could have a laugh and a chat with. I got to go first in the receiver role and my god was it great! Basically I got my feet massaged with yummy smelling oils by a pretty girl for twenty minutes. What’s not to love? I didn’t really see the sexual side of it so much at that point, but I definitely remembered how much I adore a good foot massage.

Sadly, my twenty minutes came to an end all too soon and then it was my partners turn. We moved away from the pool as it was now time to rub coconut oil onto each others feet. I studiously rubbed away (no pun intended) and was relieved to hear the sighs of contentment coming from my partner.

Oh yeah, I’ve still got it.

So up to this point in class it had basically just been nice foot massages for everyone involved, but as I said, there wasn’t much of a sexual side to it. That was until it was time for the demonstration. We sat in a coconut glazed circle and watched on with awe as Mistress Minx and Kinta showed us how foot play was really done.

It was fascinating Lovers! I’ve never really been turned on by feet, or by watching other people get their feet on, but after this I definitely have an appreciation for it.

They took turns in giving and receiving, and demonstrated just how sexy a foot could be. When these guys massaged each other’s feet, there was a such a sensuality to it, as if magic powers could be coaxed from the sole of a foot if stroked correctly.

Then there was the toe sucking. As erotic and cool to watch as it was, my partner and I both looked at each other and gave just the slightest shake of the head. No toe sucking for us today. I was secretly relieved she wasn’t into it either. Even after a bath and a rub down I wasn’t confident that my feet would be tasty enough too go into some poor girls mouth. And her toenails made it a definite ‘no’ for me chowing down at toe-time.

However, what we were interested in was the foot torture. Oh I know it sounds intense and scary Lovers, but you’d be amazed at how much the sole of your foot can take! Kinta laid out an assortment of paddles, whips, brushes and all manner of utensils for us to experiment with. Watching the demonstration, we were taught to use the one to five system in order to figure out how much pain the receiver was in.

Eager to begin, I decided to deal out the punishment first. I chose my weapon; the good old school ruler. With my hands placed safely over her toes (never hit people on their toes Lovers, that’s where doctor’s visits come in) I got to it, slapping her firmly on the ball of her foot. At least, I thought it was firm.

“How’s that?” I asked, peering around to see what finger she would hold up. She turned to me and held up one finger (luckily it wasn’t the bird.)

“Just one?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah I can barely feel it.” She scoffed.

Barely felt it? Well, I thought, there’s only one way to remedy that! I proceeded to punish her foot with wild abandon, slapping and smacking that bad boy until even Akon would have been proud of me. Before long two then three fingers promptly popped up, letting me know my smacking had been successful.

Woohoo, champion smacker right here!

We had previously agreed that we would only go up to three as far as the pain threshold was concerned, so it was time to try something else. And boy did I try something else Lovers! I slapped her with whips, rubber mallets, foam mallets, hair brushes and basically anything I could get my hands on. It was actually a hell of a lot of fun!

Then it was my turn.

As I had done previously, my partner started out tentatively, slapping me lightly on the heel of my foot, inducing me to snort and hold up one lousy finger. Once again, as I had, she went to town on me, smacking me until I could hear her panting with exertion. I must admit there was a strange satisfaction to it. In my head I was thinking, “yeah hit me harder, do it, do it! Is that all you’ve got? I’m such a badass!”

That is until she hit me really hard and the voice transformed into “oh god please don’t hurt me, I’ve still got such a life to live! Mercy, mercy!”

So all in all foot fetish was great fun. I must say, there really is something genuinely sexy about paying so much attention to a part of the body that doesn’t start with a p or a v.

I’m still not exactly sure how to work it into any type of regular foreplay though. I can’t imagine kissing down a guys chest, past his bellybutton down to his inner thighs and then breathing, “turn over baby, I’m going to give your feet such a smack.”

Hmmm, might be a bit niche for most of my men.

Still, it’s nice to have a good assortment of play in the foreplay bank.

Now Lover’s we get to what so many of you have been waiting for; Nuru Bodygliding!

But what is this bodygliding you speak of Claire? I hear you ask with trepidation. Well Lover’s it’s an experience and a half, I can tell you that now! So, you keen to keep reading?

I thought so.

Well, I’ll start off by saying that you should never, ever go into a bodygliding session straight after a big lunch washed down by a pint of Coke.

Which is exactly what I did.

What? I was really hungry and the burger place across the road was calling me all day, plus adding double bacon was only a $1 extra. What else was I supposed to do, just ignore the bacon? Pfft, not an option Lovers.

So, I waddled back into the building, adequately stuffed with bacon and beef, only to remember that this next workshop was ‘clothing optional’ which pretty much always meant ‘everybody will be butt naked.”

Groan.

Still, I couldn’t take the bacon back, so I just had to work with it. I gingerly sat down on the tarp that now covered the full length of the room (yes you read that right Lovers, tarp, like from Bunnings, now replaced all carpet in the room. Quite an intimidating sight for a newbie I must say.) The more I sat there the more nervous I became. Did I really want to get naked with all these people? I mean, there was nobody I particularly disliked, but I really wasn’t in the zone to have sex with anyone. I was here to learn, not get laid (although I wasn’t averse to that happening if the moment was right. I’m still human after all.)

Just as I was considering the possibility of running, the leader of the group began to talk. His words instantly calmed me.

“Now guys, just so you know, this is not a sexual experience.”

Calmed me yes, but also confused the bejesus out of me. You’re saying that getting naked, on a tarp, with fifty strangers is not sexual? Dude, what could be more sexual than that?

He went on to explain, “you’ll find that this experience will be more childlike. You’ll find yourself regressing back. Usually with a lot of laughing and squealing.” He added with a wink.

Hmm, childhood regression? Sounds… weird.

But as they say sometimes you’ve just got to chuck it in the fuck bucket and move on, so that’s just what I did.

I was here. I was going to have this experience. No turning back (apart from regression of course.)

We were told to pair up or get into groups of three for the first part of the session, and I grabbed onto Darren, my erotic rope partner lightning fast. We may not have known each other that well, but I knew him more than anyone else in that room. We were then joined by a nice middle-aged bloke in need of a group. We of course accepted, being the nice polite people we are.

But that’s when I realised what would be happening. It was going to be a Claire sandwich.

No turning back, no turning back, no turning back. I repeated the mantra in my head as everyone began to strip off. I closed my eyes, gave myself a mental kick up the ass and whipped my shirt off before I could change my mind. Then my pants. Then my bra.

The undies stayed on.

As I’ve stated before Lovers, I am not endowed with the moistest of muffs and find it difficult to become sufficiently lubricated much of the time. However, what my lubeless love tunnel lacks in putting out the good stuff, it certainly makes up for in the opposite manner. In other words, if I took my undies off on a tarp smeared with Nuru, my muffin would suck that stuff up like a creepy crawly on crack.

So, the undies remained firmly in place.

Now that everyone was naked (sans for me and a few other ladies in g-bangers) it was time to begin. We were instructed to massage each other (without any oils or anything, this was just the warmup.) I tentatively reached towards the boys, who sat cross-legged in front of me, and started massaging their legs, just above the knee.

Below the knee felt way too PG for what we were about to do, but going straight to the upper thigh was a bit forward. Apparently in my head there was a certain decorous way one should approach these things.

The boys reciprocated and we fondled each others arms and legs for little while, just trying to ease into things and get comfortable. That was until the group next to us motioned for us to copy their style. They were doing a massage train of nakedness. The first guy sat with his legs crossed, enjoying a massage from the girl who sat directly behind him, her legs encircling his waist. She too was being massaged by the guy directly behind her, who seemed to be ignoring the whole ‘non-sexual’ aspect by focusing all his attention on her love puppies.

Subtle dude, very subtle.

My two group members looked at me for approval, their eyes shining with delight and excitement. It would have been like saying no to your new puppy. Your new puppy with two penises sure, but still cute all the same.

So I got up and clambered in between them with all the grace of a lopsided flamingo. In other words, I got up, them toppled onto them as I lost my footing on the slippery tarp.

No chance of sexiness here boys.

We were doing the train massage thing for about ten minutes and I was just starting to get a little bored when all of a sudden a volunteer appeared next to us with a wine bottle.

Geez, it’s a bit late to offer up some Dutch courage now mate, I thought to myself grumpily, but then he motioned for us to hold out our hands.

With just a touch of trepidation, I did as he asked…. And then the games began!

Oh Lovers, the oohey, gooey, stickiness of this stuff was just amazing! And to top it all off? It was warm! We gleefully cupped our palms together, greedy to receive as much of the Nuru gel as we could. When the gel had been described to us, I hadn’t been all that keen, as the stuff was apparently made from seaweed. But as our leader had advised us, it was completely odourless and evaporated like water.

Well, sort of like water. Think really really thick water. But warm. Like soup.

Soup water. Yeah, think warm soupy water.

I’m really not selling this stuff well am I?

Ok let me tell you how things progressed after the initial excitement. We cupped the Nuru in our hands reverently, admiring its texture and the delicious feel of it before quickly slapping it onto each other before it slipped through our fingers. We started just on each others backs before adventuring around to more… juicy parts.

There was no touching of the wangs you dirty bastards!

No no, it was more chests, inner thighs, butts and all those areas. In an instant though, the frolicking turned forlorn as we realised we were out of gel! What to do now? Luckily one of those handy volunteers was always available to top us up whenever our smiles turned upside down. There was one moment however, when we ran out of the sacred fun-gel and all the volunteers were on the other side of the room. To my surprise, one of my boys let out a whoop of excitement and splattered himself face down on the tarp, before rolling over onto his back, effectively marinating himself in Nuru that had slipped off our bodies and onto the tarp.

He was like a happy little chicken breast, basted and ready for the pan.

“Try it! You’ve just got too!” He laughed.

And he was right, I just did.

After I had sufficiently soaked up enough Nuru from my squirming on the tarp I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see both my group members staring off to the side, transfixed.

“Look, just look,” said Darren breathlessly.

I looked up just as he said and my breath was literally stolen from my lungs.

What did I see Lovers? Find out next time!

Claire

Xoxo

Pickup line of the week: Is your name Google? Cause you have everything I’m searching for!

Talk about unsafe sex!

 

Woah Lovers, what a Friday night I had!

That’s right Lovers, we’re going to take a teensy break from FORGS and focus on something that happened just the other night.

So what happened? I hear you ask with bated breath. Well it’s more a case of what didn’t happen, and how the not happening of it caused all sorts of other happenings to occur.

Confused yet? Me too, but don’t worry Lovers, we’ll get through it together!

So, Friday rolled around as usual, and although I was aware that yet another Saints and Sinners swingers ball was upon us, I was content in the fact that this month I would be sitting out the action.

Instead, I had the delightful prospect of a Friday night with Beet to look forward to.

Remember Beet? This was the guy I was most excited about second dating a few weeks ago. And oh my lord Lovers, the sex we had! It was incredible! Not only did I finally find my orgasm again, but it was just so connected and, I hate to say it… special.

Eww I think I’m catching feelings!

I thought maybe the first time was amazing because I was pretty tipsy, but after having amazingly orgasmic morning sex the next day, I knew I was on to something good. No, not good, great!

Phoar I just can’t get enough of him Lovers! Every time we have sex it’s like… so… you know… indescribable!

The best thing is I’m not alone in my opinion, Beet thinks the sex is pretty amazeballs as well.

So, happy days, right Lovers?

Correct!

My only qualm with the boy is his delicious body (and mind, I’m not completely shallow) isn’t available often enough! Still, the waiting is what keeps it exciting I suppose. Nothing like a little anticipation to heighten the senses.

Anyways, as I said, I was looking forward to a quiet night of sexy time and party pies, (what more could a girl want) when I get a text from the man himself.

Turns out my quiet night of nakedness was not to be. I’d still be getting naked, but I’d be doing it in front of one thousand other people.

That’s right Lover’s, Beet had gone and bought us tickets to Saints and Sinners! And the best part? He bought mine as a birthday present!

How romantic!

I spent the remainder of the afternoon whipping around sex stores in the city trying to cobble together an outfit that was both goth/rocker/punk (the theme for the night) and also a decent amount of sexy.

Mission accomplished.

Beet came to my house before the party for some pre-drinks and pre-sex (no point going to a sex party without unleashing the turtle a few times first right?) and as usual we both came ferociously, gasping and laughing at the force of our orgasms.

After a few more beers and some last minute outfit changes, we were off.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but for some reason I was nervous. This was the third time I’d been to S and S, I said to myself sternly, why on earth should I be nervous? Maybe it was the fact that we were meeting some of the FORGS gang at the party? No that couldn’t be it, I’d seen them all naked and more, what else did I need to know to implicitly trust and like them?

Then it hit me. Ah shit.

Jealously.

Fuck fuck fuck!

This was the reason I never went with people I actually cared about! How was I going to feel when Beet left me and headed off to join a sexy threesome? We weren’t anything. We weren’t dating, and from what I could gather Beet had no intentions of making me his ‘special gal,’ so why was I getting all riled up?

Gah, those goddam feelings.

Son of a bitch.

I took a deep breath and resolved to drink much wine and have much sex, starting with Beet. May was well get him started off with some good sex before he headed into the fray.

But that was certainly not what happened Lovers.

As soon as we entered I felt that now familiar thrill of being with ‘my people.’ Everything was out and free (quite literally in some cases) and everyone was smiling. I took Beet’s hand and led him on a tour of the venue, pointing out my favourite spots and activities as I did so. After the tour we grabbed a drink and headed onto the dance floor.

Beet’s eyes were bugging out of his head trying to take in all the sights and sounds he was being assaulted with.

I smiled mischievously and slid my hand down into his underwear.

Round two maybe? I think so.

Beet’s pork sword disagreed.

There was no movement at this particular station, so I figured it was time for a scene change.

I steered Beet toward the bean bag section, eager to relax him and help him get into the groove of the night.

But after several attempts at bean bag head, it was pretty obvious that Beet Junior was not feeling the vibe.

You may think I was disappointed at this point Lovers. You’re at a sex party, and he’s not having sex with you? Jipped! But actually my Lovelies, what we did instead was better.

Maybe it’s just my dodgy romantic side coming out, but instead of having crazy wild bean bag sex we talked, we fondled, we kissed, long and slow.

It was so nice Lovers!

Eventually we detached from each other long enough to change floors, and that’s when we bumped into the FORGS crew. Yay!

The night got even better from then on. It was so great to see them again, and of course everyone’s costumes were on point.

We headed to the dance floor and danced and danced and danced. There was much coupe swapping happening, but for some reason I didn’t take part. As I said before, Beet and I are not a couple, we aren’t dating, exclusive or anything of the sort, but when the offer came to make out with a few dudes… I just didn’t feel like it. The only person I wanted to kiss was Beet.

Urgh, how sad is that?

Then again, Beet didn’t make out with anyone either… Hmm, was he too nervous to pash someone? Or was he actually enjoying hanging out with me?

So confusing!

Anyways we carried on the dancing until the drag queen hosting the night kicked us off stage to start the best-dressed competition. And guess who jumped on stage?

Beet!

Well, I say jumped on stage, he was sort of pushed, but still once he was up there he totally owned it. The contestants had to do a little dance on the pole to show off their outfits (or lack thereof) and my my my did Beet work that pole like a runaway!

I was so proud of him for getting up there and giving it a crack (not to mention showing a little crack at the same time.) He didn’t win, but I gave him a celebratory blowjob anyway.

It was the least I could do.

After his tryst on stage Beet felt ready to have a go in the Grope box. And you know what Lovers? So did I.

What an experience!

As soon as I jumped in about eight hands plunged through the holes to get at me. I giggled uncontrollably as the hands touched and stroked me everywhere. And I mean everywhere Lovers. There was one quite persistent hand who set up camp in the old nether regions, but I kept my legs firmly closed, so all he got was the front page.

A guy popped his head into the box and asked if I was ok, which was very sweet of him… The first two times. After that I was just like, dude, let a bitch get felt up in peace orright?

I didn’t say that, (manners people) but it was quite irritating. I got in this box myself, I can get out just as easily if I feel violated. Although really, why get in the box if you don’t want a little violation hey?

After eventually extricating myself from the hands Spud and I decided to go downstairs to the ‘orgy room’ and try out those beanbags again. After trying and failing to breathe life into his skin flute for a good twenty minutes, Beet pulled me up and gave me a kiss.

Then we did something I haven’t done since I was eighteen.

We had dry sex.

Oh I know it sounds very clinical when you say it like that, but my god, I forgot how much of a turn on a good old dry hump could be.

There we were, sat in the middle of a pile of naked, writhing bodies, the smell of latex condoms and Heineken thick in the air, and yet all I was focused on was Beet.

I was on top of him so it was me in control, grinding deliciously up and down against him. It didn’t matter if he was hard or not, we were both so turned on and into it that it felt like we were having sex anyway.

And the kissing! Ah, the amazing things a tongue can do! The whole experience reminded me of how great it can be to not have sex.

So it was safe to say that we’d sampled pretty much all of what the party had to offer. Beet was a little frustrated that he hadn’t been able to tick ‘having sex in public’ of his list, but he still said he had an amazing time. We left at around 3am, happy, tired and more than a little horny.

Imagine if we had of stayed just half an hour longer.

It’s a strange feeling Lovers, when a ‘secret’ sex party, becomes common knowledge. Oh sure, you tell your friends, your colleagues and occasionally your family if you want to freak them out, but you never really expect your sexual exploits to make it onto television.

That’s right Lovers, this month’s ball made the news. For all the wrong reasons.

Just half an hour after we left around thirty police stormed the club and shot a guy, while he was having sex with his woman! The details are still sketchy and there’s so much controversy surrounding the whole thing, but supposedly the cops got an anonymous tip off that a guy in the club had a gun. The police say when they yelled at the guy he pulled the gun and aimed it at them, but others say he was too busy having sex to do anything.

I don’t know what happened so I won’t comment on that but I do remember the girl. I only remember her because I admired her outfit many times throughout the night (she was dressed as Harley Quinn and her man was the Joker). I just feel so awful for her that a fun night out with her man ended in such a horrible manner. The worst part is, now her picture is splashed all over the tv and she’s known as a girl that goes to ‘those type of parties.’

Which of course there is nothing wrong with, but sadly society doesn’t see it this way. Already a few people I told have reacted negatively, saying things like, “well Claire, if you hang out with those type of people, dodgy things are going to happen.”

Urgh, people’s narrow-mindedness really shits me Lovers.

I for one, will not let things like this stop me from hanging out with these supposed ‘dodgy’ people, and neither should you.

I had to giggle at the news casters descriptions of what the couple were doing though. Some noted the couple were ‘initiating in intimate relations’ whilst others said they were ‘in a compromising position.’ Dear god people, they were having sex, it’s not a crime to say it!

Anyways Lovers, that’s me done for another post. I guess what I’ve learned from something like this happening is that events like these really are more special when only the ‘dodgy’ people know about them. The general public can’t wrap their minds around this ‘sex is fun’ concept, so for this reason, lets all take a lesson from Gandalf.

“Keep it secret! Keep it safe!”

Claire xx

P.S Just a thought. Earlier in the night there was a male strip show. They were dressed as Police… anybody think maybe the Joker thought it was all just a fun roleplay? “Ooh you got me guys, I’m not going down without a fight!”

That would totally suck if it was true.

The Festival of Really Good Sex! Part Two

Sweet baby Jesus on a popsicle stick Lovers!

I. Am. Exhausted!

Who knew a weekend of getting naked and not having sex could be so tiring? This is why I needed a week of recovery before I could write and tell you all about my adventures! (Plus it was my birthday so I had a hell of a time trying to organise a birthday bang for myself. Very time consuming, obviously.)

But I’m here now Lovers, and I’m ready and willing to tell you everything!

So let’s pick up where we left off shall we? I’d left the festival absolutely buzzing the night before, eager and excited for what awaited me in the next two days and nights.

Happily, this buzzing sensation stayed with me through the night and I awoke feeling strong, sexy and powerful. I blasted Aretha on the stereo as I dressed for the day (apologies neighbours, but really, is it worse getting woken up by my Motown hits playlist, or the guy in unit 22 wanking furiously? My thoughts exactly.)

So anyways, it’s safe to say I was pretty pumped for my first full day of FORGS (Festival Of Really Good Sex. It’s too long to type every time so I’m going to be totally lazy from here on in.)

I arrived on time (we were told if we were late we would not be allowed entry) and sat myself down on one of the now familiar cushions.

It wasn’t long before I was surrounded by a bunch of people I’d met the night before, and I must say, it felt pretty cool to be making friends in such an odd environment.

Although, as a side note, I was a bit skeptical of people after they’d neglected to tell me I’d left with Nutella on my neck the night before. It’s no wonder the drunk guy on the tram home was staring at me. Here was me thinking I was just oozing sexual charisma and he was totally picking up what I was putting down. Turns out he probably just thought I had shit on my neck.

Not the type of oozing a girl strives for.

But lets not hold grudges shall we?

I’d guestimate about thirty per cent of the attendees had come alone, much to my surprise, so it was great to all group around and freak out about certain workshops together.

Before I knew it, the clock had ticked over to 9.30 (so goddam early) and it was time for our first class!

There were two rooms being used for the festival, ingeniously named the small room and the large room. Two workshops ran concurrently and it was up to the individual to make the sometimes painful decision of which workshop to attend.

I think I did pretty well with my choices.

The first workshop…. Tying for erotic intensity.

I’ll be the first to say I was a little dubious heading into this workshop Lovers. As you know, I’ve always been fascinated by the whole BDSM scene, so the thought of actually acquiring some skills in the area greatly excited me. However, of all the badges I earnt during my time in the girl guides, rope tying and knots was not one of them. I could whip up a mean scone in under an hour and my water saving skills were on point, but knots had me completely undone. So I wasn’t looking forward to attempting intricate harnesses on some poor volunteer. That shit would get intense real quick.

Sadly not for the same reason I’m sure.

But luckily my idea of what the class might consist of was completely wrong! The class was run by two awesome individuals; Mistress Minx and Kinta. They had such an intriguing relationship with each other. Obviously Minx was a dom, but what interested me most is that Kinta was gay. I’d never known that gay guys could play or would want to play with women. Maybe I was just naïve, but it was such a fascinating dynamic to see. They clearly cared for each other, and the trust and warmth they communicated was infectious.

It really made me see the fluidity of this crazy thing called sex.

Anyways, after introducing themselves, Kinta and Minx quickly assured us that this would not be an hour and a half of learning knots.

Phew!

Instead, it was all about learning to take a step back and discover the sensuality and sensation of the rope itself.

Keh?

How was I supposed to do that if we weren’t stringing each other up?

Luckily our teachers had it all well in hand and they asked us to pair off. I looked around hesitantly, trying to find someone I could be at least somewhat comfortable with in very close proximity.

I ended up pairing with a guy called Darren. We’d chatted earlier and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. His eyes didn’t instantly undress you like I’d noticed one or two of the other gentleman’s did. Still, I suppose you can’t be too surprised to get a few of those blokes. It is a sex festival after all!

Darren was here alone, all the way from interstate, so he was in need of a friend just as much as me.

So, rope-mate secured, we started with the first activity.

I had to blindfold Darren and start touching him sensually (genitals and fun bags excluded obviously, this class wasn’t just cop a feel 101).

At first whenever I touched him he would attempt to touch me back, hands reaching for contact. When I got closer to him he went straight for my but and set up camp.

I think this was just nerves though, as when I gave some slight signals that this was more about him than me he backed right off.

So I could get to work.

It’s quite a unique sensation, being told to sensually touch someone you hardly know, with clothes on, in a room full of other people doing the same thing. In a sexual situation with a partner I would always just go straight for the old pork sword, but this time that wasn’t an option.

How do you make someone feel good, in a sensual way, without touching them sexually?

Turns out it’s actually quite fun and really easy to get the hang of!

I just had to remember that he was blindfolded, meaning just like the night before in the Sensorium, everything was heightened.

I started by tracing slowly up his arms lightly. Then I did it again, but this time much firmer. Personally my skin can get a little irritated if people go too soft so I went with what I prefer.

I kneaded his forearms and then his biceps, stepping in close so that we were touching chest to chest. Again he went to grab my butt but I shimmied away and he got the idea.

Dude, let me sensuate you! (Not a word I know, but it was what my brain was channelling. Yeah sensuate him, sensuate him real good Claire.)

I circled behind him, tracing patterns on the back of his neck as I did so, before pressing myself tightly against him and giving him a firm hug from the back. In the Sensorium the tight embrace had been one of my favourite parts so I was eager to apply this sensation to Darren.

I touched him everywhere (that was allowed) and I was amazed at how enjoyable it was to be so in control and to be giving pleasure in such a different way.

In such a PG way.

After a while we were given a “tool” to touch the person with. The tool was to be an extension of our own arm, rather than a separate object. When we were using the tool, we weren’t allowed to use our hands, so the person only felt the sensation of the particular tool. I was given a small cane, which I traced all over Darren’s body. As he relaxed more and more I became firmer in my movements before giving him a few light raps across the back of his legs.

Then it was time to swap and I donned the blindfold. Darren started out a bit uncertain, but as soon as he started in on my neck and collarbone I was turned completely to jelly. The neck is such an intimate and sensitive place, not to mention vulnerable, so just the lightest of touches felt sensual and almost dangerous.

Loved it!

The tool Darren got to use felt decidedly odd. It felt like on of those sponges you use to wash the dishes, you know the one’s where one side is yellow and the other, tougher side is green. It wasn’t unpleasant in the least, just… unusual.

Next up, it was time to work with some actual rope.

Each pair was given a length of rope and Minx and Kinta demonstrated what to do with said rope.

We were to tie a knot around our partner’s wrist or neck and to then use the rope to communicate with each other.

I dove straight in and went for the neck, even though a fair few people around me expressed concern about the area. But I trusted Darren enough not to strangle me, so I guess we were officially friends.

The idea was to let go of everything else and tune into the sensation of the rope. The feeling of it going around my neck, the gentle rubbing against my skin as Darren tied the knot and the subtle pull as Darren twisted the rope in different directions.

It was really nice. I could see why people enjoyed this type of play. To be completely free of any other thought or feeling other than what the rope was doing was strangely relaxing. I felt completely tranquil and at peace, similar to what I imagine subs feel when obeying orders from their dom. I was to do nothing but follow this direct order of enjoying the rope, something I couldn’t do unless I was completely focused.

However, there was one specific thing that kept jarring my focus.

This first class was the beginning of knowing who not to stand near if you didn’t want to be distracted from your own thoughts or feelings.

Now Lovers, I do my best to be understanding when it comes to the notion that everyone expresses their feelings differently, and in normal PG life I’m amazingly good at taking people as they come.

But good God, put those people in a sexual setting and some things just get irritating as fuck!

Seriously Lovers, a few people at this festival literally had an orgasm every time they breathed out. Or at least that’s what it sounded like! We were told to take some deep breaths at the beginning of the class, the beginning remember, before anything even mildly sexual had occurred and oh sweet lord, the moans that issued forth from a chosen few were insane!

Just breathing!

So you can imagine the cacophony I had to listen to as the sensual stuff started. Every breath out there was at least one or two, groaning and moaning away as if they were about to cream their jeans.

“Now Claire,” I lectured myself internally, “don’t be such a judgemental bitch.”

Turns out it’s really hard not to be a judgemental bitch when people are interrupting your sensuate time!

Maybe I’m just jealous. After all, the confidence and ability to communicate sexual emotions that freely (and publicly) is well beyond my capacity at this stage. Perhaps when I get to their age it’ll be me moaning and groaning with great aplomb. Let’s hope so!

Soon it was time to swap and I attempted to tie a knot around Darren. He chose the wrist (probably a wise choice as I struggled with the knot big time) and I tried to get him in the same zone I had been in previously. Darren seemed a bit bored however so I decided to wrap him up tight in the rope so he could feel the snug sensation of being held.

He seemed to enjoy that a bit more luckily.

Then, that was that, class was done!

Time flies when you’re tied up apparently.

So that was the first class Lovers, next post it’s foot pampering and Nuru bodygliding! Can’t wait to share!

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: So we’re friends now, when do the benefits kick in?

The Festival Of Really Good Sex!

Holy shitballs Lovers!

What a start to the festival! Not to mention my weekend!

I must say I had planned to save all my thoughts until after the festival and give you a really well thought out, pensive post, but after tonight the words are just exploding out of me! And let’s face it, explosive always trumps pensive, right?

So, you want to hear about it?

Thought so.

Oh Lovers, I was so excited (not to mention nervous) when I first arrived. I knew I’d be one of the only people attending solo, and for a while it appeared I was correct in my assumptions.

But then I noticed a few people trickle in one by one and my fears of not having a partner were cured.

I took a seat on one of the thousands of cushions scattered throughout the room (ok maybe not thousands, but seriously, if there’s a store called Cushion World, these guys had bought them out!)

Cushion chosen, I scoped the very warm room out. (A quick look at the aircon confirmed it was 30 degrees in the room.) Looked like they were following Nelly’s philosophy on life. It’s getting hot in here, so take of all your clothes!

Well, maybe not all of them, not yet anyway. I did shed multiple layers though in an attempt to keep my cantankerous sweat glands happy. (Honestly, a touch over 26 degrees and I’m sliding off chairs due to my drenched ass cheeks!)

Eventually though, everyone was settled and we began. Nothing too exciting really, just the usual housekeeping stuff. You know the type. Be quiet when you leave, smoke out the back and don’t take photo’s of naked people covered in lube sliding around on each other.

Pretty standard right?

Then we were given numbers and a consent sheet regarding our limits and where we didn’t want to be touched.

I pondered for a while. Would I be cool with all this touching?

Just kidding. There was no pondering. The answer was a very definite yes! I only wrote ‘maybe don’t shove a finger in my belly button’ so I’d fill the space.

Plus my belly button is kind of gross, so really I was doing them a favour.

Anyways, I was number 19, and had to sit and wait patiently for my number to be called.

It was like the sexiest Centrelink waiting room ever.

All this waiting gave me a chance to get chatting and I met quite a few pretty cool and interesting people. More on those peeps in further posts.

My number was up!

I was led into a small room and told by one of the volunteers to undress as much as I felt comfortable. I’d told myself I’d whip my shirt off but when I saw all the nakedness surrounding me I shrugged and slipped my bra off as well.

Freezing nipples leading the way (this room was certainly not as warm as the bikram chamber I had just emerged from) I was introduced to one of the male volunteers. I must say, it’s quite a strange feeling, standing in front of a fully clothed man wearing nothing more than your necklace and yoga pants. That’s probably the reason why I greeted him with a wink and a, ‘sup.’

Face palm.

Luckily at that point he blindfolded me and ended any chances of more white girl gangster talk occurring.

Now I was in it. The ‘Sensorium’ had begun!

The guy took my hands and slowly guided me down the hallway. I heard pulsing beats and rhythms as we continued forward and my heart fluttered with excitement. Of course I could have opened my eyes at any time and peeked out from the blindfold, but where’s the fun in that? No no, this was all about the feeling, not the seeing.

And boy did I feel!

The hands holding mine guided me for a few more steps before we came to a stop and they disappeared. For a moment I felt bereft. Those hands were all I had to cling onto in this new and nerve-wracking experience and they’d just abandoned me!

Those hands were quickly replaced by at least two new sets. I breathed in sharply as I felt at least four hands gently caress my arms, my neck, my torso and yep, my fun puppies.

It was so nice! The excitement of not knowing what would happen next, who was touching you and where they might lead you added an intense element to the whole thing. The hands withdrew again and this time were replaced by a… I have no idea actually. It could have been something wildly erotic, or it could have been a wooden spoon. That’s the joy of a blindfold!

I breathed deeply as whatever it was was traced all over my body before coming back to circle my nipples. All the while the pulsing music beat rapidly in the background, staccato drum beats keeping things tribal and intense. I heard a sharp smack and a startled groan as someone nearby received their own wooden spoon in a much more… direct manner. Whatever was happening, they were certainly enjoying it!

But I had no more time to think about them as I was now being guided to another section of the room by yet another set of hands. I stopped, as what felt like beads were guided gently over my skin. However they didn’t stay gentle for long.

Ooh, ah, goddam that stings!

My inner voice was screaming at me to stop this madness, to ask whoever was violently flaying my breasts to ease up and go back to the nice stuff. But no, I wanted to feel it all, the pain and the pleasure. So I stayed silent and took my boob punishment.

Go me.

After I survived the pap flogging, I was guided onward once again, this time not stopping until I could feel someone’s hot breath on my face. (It’s cool, they had nice fresh breath so I was more than happy with our proximity. The only part I felt bad about was perhaps my Hungry Jack’s dinner had made my own breath less than appealing.) Still, there was no time to think about mundane things like that, as a firm voice right next to my ear commanded me, “open wide.”

I did as I was bid, thinking I would receive a finger for my troubles, but instead got a nutella coated strawberry. Score!

“Bite, hard.”

Hey whatever you say lady, who am I to say no to a fresh breathed giver of chocolate fruit?

Before I had time to thank her for the offering a strong set of arms came around me from behind and held me tight. I could feel their whole body pressed up tight against me. Might have been a girl, might have been a guy. Don’t know, don’t care.

Whoever it was could certainly move! I loved the way they crushed me into their embrace as they ground into my back, swaying languorously with the music. Their hands slid all the way up and down my body, making me feel both incredibly erotic and yet surprisingly safe at the same time. It really made me realise the power and sexuality a body can wield.

I was certainly sad when he or she let me go, but as they say, all good things must come to an end!

And that was my first night at the festival of really good sex! Not too shabby eh? Now I really must go to bed as I have to be up at 7.30am to make it to the first class.

How I wish coffee breath was sexy!

Claire xx

Pick up line of the week: I’ve got Skittles in my mouth, wanna taste the rainbow?

 

 

 

Getting randy in the veggie patch

Good morrow Lovers!

Sorry, just spent the past day watching the six hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. I think it may have affected me more than I first thought.

If it has I shall be most put out!

So, Jane Austen marathon’s aside, I guess you’re wondering what else I have been up to, hey Lovers?

Well, to start with I have a date tonight! That’s right, a real date with a real, live man! And what makes it even more exciting is that it’s a second date, which means sex is almost a guarantee! Right?

By the way if you’re new to the blog and you’ve read that sentence thinking, ‘geez, sex on the second date? She gives it up easy,’ then I can guarantee this isn’t the blog for you.

I’d more than happily give it up on the first date!

Anyways now that we’ve weeded out the prudes I’ll let you know more about tonight’s date/conquest.

(Seriously its been over four months, if he doesn’t rip my pants off after the first couple of hours I will be most displeased!)

His nickname is a vegetable, so to keep things anonymous (as usual) we’ll call him…. Beet (because there’s an almost definite chance he’ll get a root!) So I met Beet where I meet most of my men these days, the ever reliable Tinder.

Beet was a wily fellow, tricky to pin down and even harder to catch up with in person! Finally though, after about five weeks of small talk and meaningless chatter, we set a date and met up at a bar.

He wasn’t what I expected, that was for sure. Beet looked like his photo’s, which was nice considering I was quite a fan of his boyish charm, however it was a case of the voice really not matching the face! Imagine if you will Lovers, the face of a 23 year old with the voice and mannerisms of a 33 year old.

It threw me for a loop to start with, that was for sure, particularly because his voice totally reminded me of one of my uncles.

Luckily I love all my uncle’s, as they are the coolest dude’s I know over 50, so it didn’t bother me too much. Beet’s just lucky I don’t have any creepy uncle’s I studiously avoid at Christmas, otherwise it would have been a very short date.

As it was, the date went for about four hours and I had a really good time! Beet was a total gentleman, actually listening to my stories rather than just waiting for me to finish so he could jump in with his much more amazing life experiences (an event which happens all too often on my bad dates.)

What was more, he shouted almost all the drinks! I was blown away by his generosity. Maybe I’m just a simple country girl, but the fact that a guy bought me four wines in one night is my idea of impressive!

We had a few cheeky pashes that night, and I’m happy to report Beet actually knows what he’s doing (which greatly excites me for the upcoming sex) and then he walked me to my tram.

So, great night, nice guy, what could go wrong?

Urgh, this night was over a month ago Lovers!

Now I’m all for delayed gratification but come on dude!

We had scheduled another date about a week after, on a Friday night. I was going to his area so he could ‘show me around’ (aka we would be close to his house so his bed would be included in the round tour) but he cancelled a few days before.

I was disappointed, sure, but he rescheduled for the very next night, so no harm no foul, right?

Wrong!

He texted me again to say he couldn’t do that night either as he had promised a friend he would go to the footy with him.

God damn AFL getting in the way of my sex life!

This time I was legit disappointed, but I decided if we weren’t going to meet up, then I’d give him a cheeky phone call to touch base and have a quick chat. After all, this wasn’t high school, not everything has to be done by text. We’re adults, let’s chat.

No no no Lovers, let’s not.

Beet couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. He stayed on the line long enough to promise another date soon before hurriedly saying goodbye and hanging up on me before I could even reply.

What the fuck?

I decided Beet was a lost cause. Maybe something had happened between our date and now? Maybe he’d met some sexy girl named Lettuce and they were planning on making little cabbage patch babies together?

Whatever had happened, it was pretty clear Beet was not interested in my juicy apples any more.

I deleted his number, downed a bottle of wine, and all was right again in the world.

But a little voice in the back of my head kept repeating what Beet had said to me just before I’d got on the tram home.

“You smell delicious” he’d said.

Ooh, tingles just at the thought of it. It wasn’t just what he said (which was very nice of him because I’d actually worked pretty hard to smell just the right amount of ripe that night) but the promise behind the words.

Maybe I just haven’t had sex in a very long time but, ‘you smell delicious’ to my ears sounded like ‘I’m going to ravage you within an inch of your life.”

Yes please!

So you can imagine my excitement when Beet messaged me the other day, apologising profusely for his lack of planning and not having texted me earlier. Something about being crazy busy at work and all that nonsense.

I didn’t really care. All that mattered was that he was keen to go out again and he didn’t cancel on me again.

I’ve shelved the old ‘feelings’ on this date, as although Beet has made clear his appreciation for my particular aroma, it is yet to be seen if he appreciates anything else.

So, no strings sex for me (with possibly more if he decides he likes the personality behind the perfume) and a fun night with a well – scented lady for him! Everybody wins!

I’ll let you know how it works out.

Now before I go I must fill you in on my life model interview!

Sigh, sadly I am not flouting my flange for art aficionados just yet, but I am on a wait-list! What’s more interesting however, is the other ‘project’ they invited me to take part in. Here’s the down-low: Take 150 pictures of yourself, each one different, no two shots the same and you must be holding the camera (either with hands or toes.) You are not allowed to set a timer or get a friend to help you.

Oh, and did I mention you have to be butt naked?

And not just naked Lovers, but like… spread.

What an image eh? Basically they wanted the ‘models’ to get naked anywhere and everywhere they could (as public as possible basically so the shots would look ‘interesting’) and just click away some selfies.

Then once 150 selfies had been taken, hand the memory card over so the guys can load it up onto the website (yes people, these photos go internet public!) and people can click on your profile to take a cheeky peek at your phish flaps.

I said yes of course.

But as I walked home, the borrowed camera weighing heavily in my pocket, I began to rethink my decision.

The website was dedicated to feminism and freedom, erotica without the sleaze factor and an empowering way for women to take control of their bodies.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised, it was still just smut that was going to be viewed for the singular purpose of wank assistance.

All of this didn’t really bother me. I’ve been wanting to get into some nudist groups for some time now, so it was an exciting idea to whip around town taking some cheeky pics.

The issue was… It’s the internet. And the internet is forever.

The ladies were very explicit when telling me that after the cooling off period they owned the photos, so it’s not as if I could just get them taken down.

And I have been studying to be a counsellor for over two years now, a course in which the idea of having any sort of public personality is heartily frowned upon. They don’t even like counsellors to have dating profiles!

Counsellor or not, I’m never giving up my Tinder, Plenty of Fish, Bumble or Happn accounts for anyone! (Until of course I find ‘the one’ then I’ll give it all up for amazing sex and wonderful lurve.)

So I couldn’t do it. As much as the sexual deviant in me loved the idea of baring all forever more, the counsellor in me hog tied her to the bed and CBT’d some sense into her. (And by CBT I mean cognitive behavioural therapy not cock and ball torture. It’d just be weird for the counsellor side of me to partake in that type of thing.)

Because when it comes down to it Lovers, it’s just too hard to open up to someone when you’ve seen their vagina.

Until next time Lovers!

Claire xx

Instead of a pick up line this week I’m going to give you some amazing news! As a birthday present to me from me, I bought myself a ticket to the Festival of Really Good Sex! I’m so excited Lovers! There’s workshops on electrosex, sensual tying, foot worship and so much more! I’ll write up a blog detailing everything I see and post it just as soon as I can Lovers!

 

 

The Joys of Muffin Buffin’

Wow.

Just wow Lovers.

Huge. This is huge.

I just had my first orgasm in a YEAR!

That’s right Lovers, until about thirty seconds ago I had been completely buzz free. And do you want to know the best part? I did it all by myself!

Yep, I sit here typing, giddy with the afterglow I missed so dearly, the smell of freshly managed minge still fresh on my fingertips. (See this is why I never let anyone ever borrow my computer!)

I just had to tell you straight away Lovers. After all, you’ve been such faithful followers of my sexual journey! I didn’t even plan on paddling the pink canoe today. It was just a sublime coincidence of some spare time, a smutty book, tunes that reminded me of an amazing past fuck and an upcoming date on Friday.

Ah it still feels amazing! After it happened and I got over my shock I just lay in bed laughing uncontrollably. I’m so happy!

You see Lovers, for the past five or so years I’ve been on some pretty strong anti-depressants. After a breakup that left me teetering on the edge I just had to get some help. However, the doctors never told me about a certain side effect of these so called happy pills.

No. More. Orgasms.

How wrong is that? Orgasms are the one thing that can brighten up a cloudy day no matter what! Why do you think toilets have doors? Oh sure its got a little to do with the whole ‘modesty’ thing, but mostly it’s so anyone and everyone can be free to have a little fiddle judgement free!

Public toilets are not there for the reason you think people.

Next time you see someone emerging from a cubicle smiling ear to ear it’s not because the prune juice just kicked in, no no, it’s because they have just treated themselves to a little taste of what the good lord bestowed betwixt their legs.

I mean really, why would he give us girls such dexterous digits if he didn’t want us to use them?

Anyways, anti-depressants apparently act like the drugs on those dodgy late night ads for premature ejaculation. You know the one’s. There’s the disgruntled couple sitting in bed and then a miraculous voice-over pipes up with, “can’t get it up?” Or, “want to please your lady right?” Yeah, those one’s. Well, my happy pills effectively make me the dream date (if I was a dude.) That’s right, I can go longer, harder and faster. But who cares about that crap when you’re just a girl who wants to get her rocks off?

Don’t get me wrong, sex without orgasm can be and is still amazing, but a whole year with no finale?

Get fucked.

So for anyone out there who is experiencing the same issues as me, I can proudly say, when you get off the happy pills, the orgasms return! I always secretly feared that I’d lost them for good, but happy days, the queen has returned to her castle!

Anyways, I better go stretch, my  legs are killing me from all that delicious quivering and tensing.

Squee! Never give up hope Lovers!

Claire

xx

P.S I’ll fill you in on Friday’s date asap. I fully intend to have my way with him, so fingers crossed he’s a willing participant or I’ll have to bring out my new (lockable) set of handcuffs!

P.P.S The songs that just happened to assist in rocks being got off was Gypsy and the Cat. Just in case you need a little inspiration for your own session.

 

Flouting the Flange

Hello Lovers,

Yes today it’s just a hello. No olah’s, no hidey ho’s, no aloha’s, just a plain old vanilla hello.

Why? Well that’s just been my week Lovers.

Not a single Tinder match, message or skerrick of male attention.

Come to think of it not much female attention either. Although I did catch quite the saucy side-long glance from a delightful little minx on the tram home last night, so there was that.

Now I’m quite happy in my own company Lovers, very happy in fact.

But a girl has needs.

And this girl needs herself a good hard wang.

Preferably attached to a mildly attractive, sweet talking piece of man candy, sure, but not strictly necessary.

I mean really, here in Oz we’re just coming into the ultimate season of sex! It’s winter people, let’s snuggle!

Sweaty summer sex is hot as balls for sure, but there’s something about steaming things up under the doona (with sex that is, not Dutch ovens, as much fun as they are) that is so tantalisingly orgasm inducing you just want to get it on every night.

Oh my god Lovers, stop everything!

It’s as if the sex gods have heard my prayers!

Just as I have been writing this, something amazing has occurred! It may not be a date, but it could be something a MILLION times better! I just got a phone call from a certain artistic establishment inviting me to an information session to be a life model!

Ermahgerd! Naked drawing!

I looked up their website and now I’m even more excited as they specialise in EXOTIC life drawing!

Wow. Things are looking up Lovers!

In fact, in celebration of this milestone ( I mean really, how often do you get the opportunity to stand in front of people naked without getting arrested?) I’m going to repost one of my favourite stories I wrote for Valentines day a few years ago. Yes, that sounds much more fun that me moaning about my lack of sex!

So a mate of mine had just met her new boyfriend and I decided to write her a saucy little story starring herself and said boyfriend to help steam things up (it must have worked because they’re now engaged! You’re welcome guys.)

If you’ve read it before I apologise Lovers, but if you haven’t just imagine me as the character of Li (just, you know, female instead of male).

Enjoy my Lovelies, and wish me luck at the interview tomorrow!

“Get over here now!”

Maria winced as Kristen screeched at her from behind the counter. Damn, she’d been trying to stay hidden. With a sigh Maria disentangled herself from the layers of tinsel she was arranging and trudged to the front of the shop.

Kristen wasn’t so bad, on her good days. Unfortunately her good days only consisted of Christmas and her birthday. Today was not one of those days.

“What is this?” she hissed, snatching up tinsel from the counter

“Tinsel?” Maria replied, puzzled. Honestly, the woman was thirty two. You think she’d know the basics by now.

“I’m aware of that young lady,” Kristen bit back, practically sizzling with pent up anger. “What I’m not aware of, is what it’s doing in my shop during April!”

Maria took a step back as spit flew from Kristen’s mouth in all directions.

“You wanted a festive theme. I thought it would be something a little different.” Maria said tentatively.

“Oh it’s different all right.” Sneered Kristen. God she really could be a bitch when she wanted to be.

“Unfortunately, here at Luscious Ladies with Long Legs we value class and decorum, not tinsel!”

Maria bit back a smile as Kristen mentioned the name of her ‘boutique.’ In actual fact Luscious Ladies with Long Legs was really just a store for ladies who couldn’t fit into much else. Just like Kristen.

“Are you listening to me?”

Maria was jolted back to the present as Kristen’s beady eyes bored into her.

“You will fix it, and fix it now. Then you will get your bony little ass out of my shop without pay and without a reference. Do you understand me?”

Maria nodded, trying hard to keep her shocked expression masked as bitch face smirked at her like the cat with the cream.

“Now get back in that window.” She snarled “I’m going to lunch. Watch the shop.”

Maria opened her mouth to ask how to work the till but Kristen swished out the door before she could form the question.

What a cow! Maria sank to the floor, completely dejected. This was her last chance to save her career and she’d blown it. The Luscious Ladies contract was the final project before she was assessed and without a reference she would never get a real job. Maria just didn’t have the experience that everyone else had, didn’t have the crazy idea’s they managed to come up with. All she’d ever wanted to do was create beautiful shop windows. Something people would pause to look at. Something that would brighten a dark day, even if just for a moment. But that was over now. It looked like she would have to go back to the family business, just like her Mum wanted. Maria shuddered at the thought. De-sexing chickens was a job no human being should ever have to do, let alone full time.

Suddenly Maria was ripped out of her reverie as the tinkle of the door-bell sounded. She scrambled to her feet, smoothing her dress down as she did.

“Welcome to Luscious Ladies with Long…” Maria’s sentence trailed off as she took in the man standing in front of her.

Holy guacamole! He was dressed in a dark tailored suit that fit him like a glove. His shoes were polished to gleaming and laces tied with perfect precision. Maria’s mouth went dry as her gaze roamed hungrily over him.

“Excuse me?” he murmured, and Maria hastily snapped her glazed eyes into focus.

“Sorry.” She stuttered, still trying to get a handle on her reaction to this man. Looking up into his face, she thought she saw the ghost of a smile, but shook her head quickly to get rid of the idea.

“Can I help you?” she asked, confidence slowly returning

“Maybe, yes.” He replied cryptically

Maria frowned. Today’s not the day pal, she thought bitterly as she watched him stroll through the shop.

“Are you after a gift? Something for a friend maybe? Or perhaps,” Maria swallowed “a girlfriend?”

He grinned at her and Maria grabbed onto a hat rack for support. No man should be that dazzling when he smiled.

“No girlfriend.” He replied “Just… looking.”

For a girlfriend or clothes? Maria wondered to herself. When it looked like he was going to be a while Maria headed back to the window to start clearing up the mess she had made. So lost in her work, she didn’t notice the mystery hot man above her until he spoke.

“That’s a very interesting display.” He said softly

Maria yelped with surprise and jumped backwards, colliding with him and throwing them both into a pile of extra-long jeans.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” Maria cried, trying to untangle herself from him. He chuckled and helped her up as she slipped back onto him yet again.

She could feel her face going as red as the underwear she so foolishly chose to wore under her white skirt.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, unable to look at him.

“Its fine,” he laughed “oh and I’ve decided what I’d like.”

“What you like?” Maria frowned. Is he coming on to me? She thought.

“Yes, I’ll get that jacket on the left there.” He replied

“Oh!” Maria blushed another shade darker. Of course he wasn’t flirting with her! He probably just wants to buy his extra-long extra-large jacket and get the hell away from her.

She slid over to the counter with the jacket and fumbled with the till for a moment, willing it to life. It stared back at her, unmoving and blank. Beads of sweat started to form on Maria’s brow as she fervently searched for a button, any button to get the damn thing open. After five minutes she gave up. Peeking up at the gorgeous man in front of her she was surprised to see another one of those stunning grins plastered to his face.

He’s laughing at me! Thought Maria, although she wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased.

“You know what? Just take it. It’s on special anyway and it’s the least I can do for practically assaulting you back there.” She jerked her head towards the window.

“I can’t do that.” He said back, dead serious this time “I don’t take charity.”

“Oh but it’s not-“Maria spluttered

“But,” he cut in “I do trade.” He fished inside his pocket for a moment before handing her a business card.

“Tonight. Six pm at the old town hall. I very much hope to see you there Maria.”

“How did you-” Maria started

He smiled and tapped her name badge.

“Six o’clock. Don’t be late!” he said over his shoulder as he strolled out.

Maria watched him leave, completely bewildered. What just happened? She glanced down at his business card. His name was Li and he was an artist. An artist? He certainly didn’t look like any artist Maria had seen lately. Maybe he charged a lot for his paintings. By the look of his suit he’d have to charge quite a lot.

Maria heard the laboured clip clop of stiletto’s under far too much pressure and knew Kristen was on her way back. Stowing the business card and thoughts of Li away she hurried back to the window.

The day dragged. After finishing the window and re-doing it in bland white, Maria was drained. Watching Kristen purr lovingly to all the customers made her stomach turn. If only they knew, she thought to herself. Finally the day was over and Maria was released from all things extra-long and extra-large. She walked home slowly, dumped her bags at the door and went straight to the bathroom. Nothing like a good bath to cure a bad day. As she sank into the hot water her mind drifted. Drifted straight to a certain stranger with almond eyes and kissable lips…

Stop it! Maria frowned. How could one man get under her skin so much? And why? Yes he was attractive, very attractive, but then so were a lot of other men. So why did she feel such a thrill when she thought about Li? There was only one way to find out.

Maria stepped out of the bath, sloshing water everywhere in her haste. She ran to her bedroom, threw on a dress and hunted for her shoes. Once located, she ran out the door, sprinting in heels towards the town hall. He said not to be late! She thought to herself. Oh well, better late than never. Maria grinned idiotically and surged forward, seeing the hall up ahead. Finally she burst through the doors, panting like a donkey trying to run the Melbourne Cup.

A few curious women turned to look at her but luckily most people were chatting animatedly to each other and didn’t notice her incongruous entry. After taking a few moments to compose herself , Maria surveyed the room. It was filled with about twenty people. Scratch that, twenty women. Odd, thought Maria. Surely men would be interested in art too, especially if Li was as good as he seemed to be. She shrugged and scanned the room for a free easel. Spying one in the corner Maria made a beeline for it. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Oh God no! Staring back at her was a young girl in an enormous moo moo. In her hurry to get dressed, she had thrown on her one and only dress from Luxurious Ladies! Kristen had insisted on paying her in goods one week so she now had an entire drawer devoted to nanna knickers and this one dress. How could she have been so stupid? Glancing around Maria desperately looked for an exit, but she had well and truly backed herself into a corner. She noticed a few snide looks from the other ladies but chose to ignore them. Suddenly, inspiration struck. Digging into the enormous pockets of the dress, Maria found what she was looking for. She dove into her purse, hurriedly looking for her nail scissors and almost cried out in triumph when she found them. Keeping her elation on the down low, she hurriedly cut the fabric in her hand into one long strip. Discarding the rest behind her, Maria hurriedly wrapped the material around herself and formed a makeshift belt. Assessing herself in the mirror, Maria frowned. It wasn’t great, but at least she had given herself some semblance of a waist. Making sure no one was watching, Maria gave herself a conspiritual wink in the mirror. No one would ever know that her now belt was once an enormous pair of underwear.

Turning back to her easel, Maria tried to calm herself and take stock of her situation.

In the centre of the room sat a bowl of fruit. Wow, what an exciting hour this is going to be, Maria scoffed to herself, suddenly feeling very confident in her nanna belt. All that confidence whooshed straight out of her when she saw him.

“Ladies, take your places please.” His voice echoed smoothly through the hall, reverberating all the way up to the high ceiling.

Curiously, he was wearing the coat she had sold- well sort of sold him that very day. He walked around the room, chatting to a few ladies here and there, totally at ease. When he approached her however, something in his demeanor abruptly changed. Where he was open and friendly with the other girls, he was cagey and stiff around Maria. What is his problem? She thought in frustration. Right then and there she decided to draw the best damn fruit bowl he had ever seen. Yes, she thought, nodding to herself, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Li assumed his position in the centre of the room. All eyes were trained intently on him. He looked around the room, pausing occasionally to look at a chosen few before launching into his speech.

It was the usual spiel, how to create shapes with the charcoal pens, shading, light and darkness blah blah blah.

Maria was captivated. Every move he made, the fluid motion of his arm sliding across the page as he drew was like an exotic dance. She didn’t realise she was holding her breath until he looked at her. Then it awkwardly came out in a rush, making a sound like a deflated balloon. Maria wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Li smiled his sympathy at her and for a moment she felt just a tiny bit better.

Suddenly Li clapped his hands and announced it was time to begin. Maria nervously picked up her charcoal and started on her fruit bowl, laboriously drawing it exactly to scale. She was almost finished her outline when she finally registered all the soft giggling that was issuing from all around her. She looked up, and her jaw dropped.

He was naked!

Jesus Mary and Joseph’s Holy House of Tinsel! Maria gaped at him, completely nude, and by the look on his face, quite proud of it. What planet was she on? The piece of charcoal she had been holding slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Li looked over at the sudden noise and Maria ducked to the floor to retrieve it. As she did she smacked her head into her easel, knocking it to the floor with a crash.

“Shit!” she cried out loud. When she looked up, a naked Li was running straight for her. “I’m fine!” she shrieked, trying to scare him and his shockingly naked figure away from her “It’s all good! I’m fine!” She repeated, trying to right her easel once more. Li slowed down to a walk and padded up to her.

“You ok?” he asked

Maria couldn’t look at him. Where the hell was she supposed to look? She definitely knew where she wanted to look. Don’t you dare, her subconscious screamed at her. She stared straight ahead, immersed in the blank sheet of paper in front of her. She could feel a red flush creeping up her neck towards her face and willed him to go away so she could die in peace.

Thankfully he got the hint and with one more concerned glance at her he strolled back to the middle of the room. Maria tried to get a hold of herself. This was not what she signed up for! It’s better. Whispered a little voice inside her head. Maria sternly kicked the thought out and resolutely picked up her charcoal. He wants me to draw him? Fine, I’ll draw him. She thought wickedly

Starting in the left hand corner she drew a crude stick figure of Li with enormous hands and feet. Giggling to herself she then drew a sumo version of him, with fat over flowing everywhere. Oh yes, this is what she called art.

Maria snuck a peek at the ladies next to her and was slightly sobered by the fact that all the other women were drawing very lifelike, very well drawn pictures of Li.

Suddenly Li clapped his hands again and changed positions to ‘The Thinker’ pose. Oh she could think of many a thing she’d like to do to him right now. Damn it Maria just draw! Her inner voice chided.

She took a deep breath and, trying to remember the earlier lesson, started to draw. Once she got the hang of it is was fairly easy. She followed the smooth contours of his back, up his neck to his head, then down the front across his stomach to his delicious looking snail trail and then… Then she stopped. How was she supposed to draw that?

Tricky. Very Tricky.

The earlier lesson suddenly sprang to mind. Li had said something about picturing objects as just shapes, then tweaking the shapes as you drew. Maria glanced at Li and then at the fruit bowl. A pineapple maybe? An unladylike snort escaped her mouth as she pictured it. How uncomfortable! Trying to control herself, Maria contented herself with a banana and two grapes. It was a toss-up between the grapes and some mandarins, but the grapes won her over with how fresh and ripe they looked.

Ever so slowly. She tried to draw the complicated male anatomy. Good god it was difficult. Gently gently, she traced up his left thigh then down his right, feeling a slight flush colour her cheeks as she did so. She felt so naughty!

Without warning Li clapped his hands twice. Maria was startled out of her erotic reverie and with a squeak of dismay, realised in her fright her charcoal hand had slipped down the page, giving Li quite the endowment.

Crap. She thought. It had all been going so well. Maria shrugged and tried to turn to her next page. The clip holding it in place was as stiff as Maria had drawn Li and she struggled to budge it even a little.

Suddenly, she realised Li was not in the middle of the room any more. With a sinking feeling she searched the room for him and to her horror, saw that he was walking around to inspect people’s drawings!

No! No! No! Her brain screamed. He was about to see what a messed up pervert she was! Maria lunged onto her easel, pulling and tugging at the clip, desperately trying to open it. All the while Li edged closer. Come on! She cried to herself. Abandoning the clip she scrabbled for the top of the paper, attempting to rip the page off completely. He was two steps away, one step away-

Kill me now.

“How did you go Maria?” Li asked from behind her. She could hear the smile in his voice as she stood in front of her easel, trying to block his view.

“It’s all right Maria.’ He said with a chuckle “Everyone has to start somewhere. We can’t all be Picasso’s straight off.”

Maria looked up at him, mortified. This was just not her day. You should have stayed in the bath pervy. Her subconscious sneered at her.

She sighed, and knowing there was nothing more she could do, stepped back to let him see the picture.

Just looking at his face told Maria all she needed to know. She grabbed her bag and ran. God she was so stupid! Tears of shame ran down her face as she ran.

She heard a cry from behind her but didn’t look back. She would stay in her house forever and never see anyone again. She would become an expert at all things Judge Judy, Doctor Phil and Ellen. Switch off her phone and make a fish bowl out of her computer. Yes, hermit Maria had quite the ring to it.

Just as she was thinking how to board up her windows she stumbled and fell hard onto the road.

Son of a bitch!

Maria wasn’t sure if she said that out loud or in her head, but she did know it hurt. A lot. Picking herself up she went to walk on, but her heel was jammed into the bitumen. Damn, she sighed. Yanking her leg, Maria tried to pull herself free, but her foot wouldn’t budge.

“Come on!” she yelled in frustration. And that’s when she heard the noise.

She turned to the left and coming down the hill was a big, no huge, blue rubbish truck. What was even more terrifying was the big red man chasing after it. The driver.

Maria screamed and frantically pulled at her leg. The truck came closer and closer, building up speed as it went. No, it couldn’t end like this, it just couldn’t, not with nanna undies wrapped around her waist!

Suddenly all the air whooshed out of her as she was propelled off the road and onto the footpath.

She landed with a thud onto the concrete, bruised but alive. She tried to get up but something was holding her down. As it turned out, not something, but someone.

“Gerrofme.” She grunted, struggling for air as that someone pressed down on her.

“Sorry!” cried a familiar voice.

“Li?” Maria sat up and looked at her rescuer, noting as she did so the crowd of people still running down the street after the truck as it whooshed past.

“Are you all right?” he asked, taking her back to that morning in the shop.

“You- you saved me.” She breathed

“You looked like you could use a hand.” He smiled gently at her and held his hand out to help her up.

“I’m sorry about the picture.” She stammered “I didn’t mean to draw that um, what I drew, that is, well you know.” Maria trailed off, not sure what to say as the enormity of what had just happened started to sink in.

Li laughed and gave her shoulder a little squeeze “Happens all the time in my line of work. Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

“Or the big.” Mumbled Maria, still embarrassed. “Why did you come after me?” she asked quietly

“I couldn’t let you get away again.” He said solemnly

“Again?” she asked, puzzled

Li sighed, and then it was his turn to look embarrassed.

“I did some mural painting for an erotic novel store a few months ago,” he began, and Maria tried hard to hold back her smirk at the thought of Li painting in a porn shop.

“It was in a small shopping complex with all sorts of stores thrown in. Anyway, I was directly across from a ladies shoe store-”

Maria clapped a hand to her mouth as realization struck.

“High Heeled Hotties.” She gasped

“That’s right.” Said Li. His eyes suddenly turned wistful “There was this girl in the window one day. She was struggling with this huge paper-mache shoe, trying to get it above her head” Li chuckled, a soft sound from deep in his throat. “She was so determined to get it done, and I just couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.”

Maria watched on as he became serious again.

“She was so beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. The way she moved, the frustration on her face as she fought with that damned shoe, and then the dazzling smile that appeared when she finally finished.”

“Me?” Maria breathed. “You thought all that about me?”

“How could I not?” said Li, pulling her a little closer “I decided right then and there that I had to meet you. Even if you were married, had a boyfriend or thirty six crazy cats I just had to talk to you. But the next day, you were gone. And honestly Maria, it was as if I wasn’t the same person anymore. My world had been rocked and now that you weren’t a part of it any more it wasn’t worth much at all. I didn’t know where to find you, didn’t even know where to start. I asked in the store but they didn’t know where your next job would be. I thought about you for weeks. Actually it was a bit embarrassing thinking about you in some of my classes, if you know what I mean.” He grinned and Maria blushed furiously.

“But then today I just happened to have lunch at this café. A café I’d never been to before and there you were. As frustrated as ever, wrapped in tinsel with some witch shouting at you. When she left I couldn’t stay away, and after I met you, you were even more amazing than I could have ever imagined. Your laugh, your crazy habit of blushing every two seconds and that sparkle in your eye, it was all so intoxicating. Then I saw you about to get cleaned off the road by some truck and my heart almost stopped.” Li stepped closer again, effectively eliminating any space between them. Maria could feel his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Good God, he was the intoxicating one, not her. She had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“Maria,” he said softly “you would make me the happiest man alive if you would let me take you to dinner.” Maria giggled, letting all the tension from the day flow out of her as she did.

“I’ll go to dinner with you Li,” she said “But I was wondering if I could ask a favour.”

“Anything.” He said, smiling down at her

“I do window displays for a living, and it’s always been my dream to do a little ‘living art.’ Think you might be interested?”

She watched as Li grasped the idea of what she was proposing.

“Which shop?” he asked, a bemused look on his face

“A little place called Luscious Ladies with Long Legs.” She said conspiritually

Li Grinned “Done deal pretty lady.”

Maria whooped with delight and threw her arms around him. She couldn’t wait to see Kristen’s face when she showed her the new ‘window treatment’.

“Come on, let’s get back to class before they think you’ve kidnapped me.” Li said, taking her hand.

Maria swatted him playfully on the shoulder before sliding her hand into his.

And so they walked back to the hall, Maria the perfect girl, with her perfect artist boyfriend…. Who was still butt naked.

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: Nice pants, can I test the zipper?

 

The Very Vacant Vagina

Hidey ho Lovers!

Well this has got to be the strangest environment I have ever blogged from! I’m currently sitting on the floor of my completely empty apartment at 7am in the morning, an unopened box of Krispy Kremes next to me, waiting for the end of lease cleaners to arrive and clean up my… mess.

It’s kind of sad though isn’t it; leaving a place you’ve gradually filled with memories, good and bad, sexy and decidedly unsexy.

But to an outsider it’s just dust and empty bottles of lube.

Just kidding Lovers, of course I disposed of my lube receptacles! I’d love to say I had a wild lubed-up party, complete with lube wrestling, a lube slip and slide and lube face painting, but sadly I just threw the mostly empty bottles in the bin.

Maybe I’m losing my edge in old age?

Either way, my collection of lubricants has been categorically streamlined.

Ok, so now that I’ve filled you in on the lube situation, how about we move onto the rest?

Well that’s just it Lover’s, there is no rest! My vagina has been decidedly vacant for the past two months!

Oh sure there were opportunities, take a recent wedding for instance. As a bridesmaid, I was looking forward to some hot ‘don’t even know your name but lets do it under the table anyway sex’. Plus as I flew interstate to be at the wedding I figured the sex karma gods would recognise my good deed and reward me accordingly.

My groomsman was hot, that was for sure. When I first heard I was being paired with the bride’s little brother my heart sank. Multiple images of some snot-nosed fourteen year old with a slingshot kept coming to mind. (Clearly I’d been watching the Sandalot Kids too much.)

Then I remembered we’re all teetering on 29 and any ‘little brother’ was sure to be at least of legal age.

Woah was he legal all right!

Nice, very nice, I thought to myself.

There were only two obstacles barring me from clambering on top of him between the main course and dessert.

First and most importantly, he had a girlfriend, and a damn sexy one at that. (I did muse on the idea of including them both for a moment, but girls that fine rarely enjoy sharing.)

So there was that, but the other complication was me and my tumultuous relationship with the sun. Rocky at best, on that 3o degree-day we were most definitely having… issues.

As soon as I took my place at the head of the aisle I knew I was in trouble. Standing in full sun with no shade to speak of, I felt my butt instantly mist up with sweat particles, ready to release.

And boy did they release!

I’m really not keen to see the wedding video, as if there is any footage of me during the ceremony, any at all, I’ll probably just have a look of impending doom stamped across my face, ineffectively masked by an ‘everything is fine, isn’t this a lovely wedding’ smile.

Want to know why Lovers? Oh I’ll tell you why! Rivers of sweat were running down my legs in a downpour of salty disgustingness.

I pressed my thighs together in an attempt to stop the flow, but it just resulted in damming the onslaught before I finally had to unclench.

Good god the heat! Was there a puddle forming at my feet? Could people see me making it rain in the worst possible way?

Don’t be silly Claire, they’re all looking at the bride, I told myself as I felt a rivulet of sweat drop slowly into my eye.

Argh it burns!

Be cool, be elegant, be the bridesmaid.

I’m melting!

By the time the ceremony was over I looked nothing like the member of the polished bridal party that had stepped out of the limo half an hour earlier.

No no no, I was a hot mess.

So it was no surprise that when the groomsmen came over to stand behind us, my man looked none too pleased with his sweaty, uncoordinated bridesmaid.

Oh yeah did I mention I almost stacked it up the aisle?

Needless to say, no sex was had at that wedding, and I spent most of it alternating between sweating profusely on the dance floor and bathing in the bathroom sink.

Good times.

So, what else has been happening? Hmm, well here’s what I can tell you Lovers, Tinder men are just as socially retarded as ever. Here’s a conversation I had yesterday, word for word.

Peter: Sex?

Me: Female

Peter: This user has unmatched you.

Looks like Peter has no sense of humour.

Plus when did it become acceptable to ask for sex before even saying hello? Manners people! If you want to be sticking your joystick in my x-box at least have the decency to start a conversation first!

Oh and then there was the situation last week, what a balls up! It was a Sunday afternoon so naturally I had just woken up from an afternoon nap. I looked over at my phone to see a message from a Tinder dude.

He seemed cute and definitely seemed to have an ok body. Normally I wouldn’t be super fussy on the bod stats but as this fellow seemed more interested in physical pursuits it was pretty important.

I’ve never actually gone out and hooked up with a Tinder guy straight away.

I mean sure there have been times when I’ve been so horny I’ve just thought, “whoever turns up on this date is coming home with me’ but that has always been for me to know and him to find out.

To meet up with a guy for a ‘coffee’ (which I’m sure neither of us would have drunk) and then get naked pronto has never really been my style.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers right? And at this point, the old vajayjay was certainly begging for it.

I tried to get him to pick a place but the dodgy bastard just kept telling me to come to his place. This pissed me off for two reasons. First of all, stranger danger! The douche obviously had no regard for my comfort or safety. He just wanted some friggin door service. That was the other thing that annoyed me.

Sure I wanted sex just as much as him, but it felt a little too prostitutey for me.

I am alone in this girls? Am I being too much of a prude? Is it too much to ask in this day and age for him to put on some clothes and meet me at the closest café to his place before we engage in the hopefully (but by no means guaranteed) great coitus?

It’s definitely a thinker.

Sexual freedom to do what I like? Great. But I also yearn for the respect of the old days where putting out wasn’t expected, but rather fervently hoped for.

Anyways I’d just showered and shaved every inch of my body (and believe me, the deforestation of my lady garden took quite some time after its months of misuse) when I got a message from the dude.

Freshly bathed and ready for some stranger sex, I picked up my phone, only to throw it against the wall moments later.

The message read “sorry, I totally forgot I’m sposed to help a friend move today. Can we do it tomorrow?”

Fucking fuckery fucking fuck nuggets!

Are you freaking serious? I was literally seven minutes from walking out the door and he pulls this shit on me?!

No suprises then that I shut him down rather quickly on his piss poor rain check. We haven’t spoken since.

Shocker.

The worst thing was I was primed and ready with no penis in sight! I put out feelers to all my tinder men but not a single bite.

Typical isn’t it, the one time I’m up for it all the annoying guys who just want sex are either offline or feeling too delicate and precious to give it up.

Gah!

So anyways Lovers, if you too are on quite the sex drought, you no longer need to feel alone!

Claire

Xx

Pickup line of the week: See my friend over there? She wants to know if you think I’m cute.

When one muff just isn’t enough!

Aloha Lovers!

Ermagerd my Lovingtons, so much has happened in the past few weeks! Where to begin? Ooh, I know, let’s start with my very first date with a poly guy. Poly guy? I hear you inquisitive little imps inquire, what do you mean poly guy? Well it’s not some dude who likes to dress like Pollyanna and spank anyone within a five metre radius, I can tell you that! No no Lovers, poly is short for poly-amorous, or in other words, people who date more than one person at a time.

Why would you go on a date with a guy who already has a girlfriend? Slow your roll with the questions Lovers, all will be explained I promise!

So, about a month ago I matched  with a guy on Tinder, lets call him Ainsley. I wasn’t especially attracted to Ainsley at the outset but what drew me to him instantly was his desire to become a sex therapist.

Hark! A kindred spirit!

I was tickled pink when we matched and instantly began talking about deep sexual theories and kinks. It was so nice to discuss this type of stuff without having to explain what sploshing or BBW or CAT techniques were.

We chatted almost every day until last night when we decided to finally meet. I wasn’t nervous at all to meet Ainsley, as unlike regular Tinder dates there was no pressure to form an instant connection. I knew it wouldn’t be awkward because if we ever lapsed into silence I could just bring the conversation back to our favourite topic; sex! I wanted to meet him, that was for sure. What I wasn’t sure of was the etiquette of the situation. Could I kiss him if I wanted to? Did I need to ask permission from his girlfriend? What if I really liked him and wanted him for my own? And even more pressingly, if I couldn’t have him for myself, could I become a secondary and be happy?

I decided the best thing to do with all these questions swirling around my head was to take a nap.

Naps solve everything. Feeling tired? Take a nap. Feeling sick? Take a nap. Feeling horny? Well maybe flick the bean first and then take a nap.

The only downfall of the sacred nap is the age-old issue of not setting that damn alarm. Safe to say all those pesky questions flew right out of my head as I whipped around the house, attempting to brush my teeth and button my dress at the same time.

Turns out I’m not multi-dexterous. I found that out the hard way.

So after switching out of my toothpaste stained dress and grabbing my keys, I ran to the bus stop, shoes in hand and eyebrows decidedly unplucked.

And missed my bus by about three and a half seconds.

Fuck fuckity fuck.

After ten minutes pacing back and forth at the bus stop, willing the bus into existence, I gave up and ran down to the closest tram stop. Luckily for my sweaty self, I was just in time to jump on and catch my breath.

Eventually I made it to the bar and dragged myself up the stairs and into the blessed air conditioning. Due to my lateness I had promised Ainsley the first drink on me. What I hadn’t expected was for him to choose a bloody $23 drink!

What a bugger.

Add to that the bartenders apologetic explanation of charging an extra dollar on all EFTPOS transactions and I ended up footing the bill for a $35 round (and all I got was a Heineken!)

Safe to say this was going to be a one round date.

Apart from his expensive taste in drinks, Ainsley was a nice enough dude. He was chatty, interesting and had his fair share of Dad jokes he was eager to share. Plus of course there was the devoted interest in sex without the gross sleaziness that often accompanied such conversations.

However, as often happens with people who are experts (or hoping to become experts in the future) he was a little high handed. It was at times difficult to get my opinion across. Every time I said something he could call on all sorts of academic information I didn’t know or even understand to rebuff me. I kind of expected this though, as most intellectual guys I meet like to display their knowledgeable prowess. So I indulged him and didn’t press my points too much.

What I really didn’t like though,was when he scoffed at my career ambitions. Ainsley had asked what I wanted to do in the future and of course I answered that I would absolutely love to be an established author or sex columnist. To this he replied “what, so you want to be the next Carrie from Sex and the City?”

It wasn’t even the words that stung that much, it was the dismissive way he said them. To have someone I saw as a sexual peer of sorts pish tosh my dream was pretty hurtful. Just because I didn’t want to write some scientific thesis didn’t mean I was any less. When I tried to explain this blog to him he assumed it was just some hobby, some tiny side project to fill my spare time.

What a little bitch.

However, bitch status aside, Ainsley really was very nice when he wasn’t on his high horse. I loved how passionate he was about his honours degree and that fact that we could chat about anything without the shocked faces or embarrassment. (Although I must say the couple next to us were certainly getting red-faced whenever I blurted out questions such as ‘yeah but was there actual ejaculation?’ or Ainsley would say ‘oh yeah porn can totally be helpful in learning how to go down on a girl!’ I think their date was much more pg rated.)

The one thing I had to get used to was the fact Ainsley was texting his girlfriend throughout the date. It wasn’t super overt but it was definitely an obstacle. It was just like when I arrived, there was no compliment of how nice I looked or anything like that. Why? because he didn’t need too. He already has a girlfriend, or in the poly world he already has a primary. At most all I will ever be is a secondary.

Kind of takes the romance out of it doesn’t it?

Normally I might be a bit miffed if a guy is texting and taking calls on a date, but in this situation it was basically like it or lump it.

The weirdest part of the date? That would probably be when his girlfriend called and offered to pick us up from the bar and drop me home.

Woah, that’s a first.

It was super nice of her but unfortunately it did cut the date short, to the point where I had to skull my half full glass of wine.

I don’t like rushing my wine.

But it wasn’t up to me, she was parked outside and we didn’t want to keep her waiting.

It was at this point I started to see the pro’s and con’s of a poly relationship. Most of all I realised a very important factor that seemed critical to success in the poly world. You really need to have a primary. Ainsley and his girlfriend had been together for five years and were rock strong. They could go back to each other after every bad date, every fight with a secondary and completely be there for each other. If the secondary doesn’t have a primary, who do they go back to?

It’s kind of lonely to be a secondary.

The primary’s have all the power and as Ainsley recollected, at times the secondary is left by the wayside if the primary needs more.

I think poly could be great, but I would rather be a primary searching for secondary’s rather than a single secondary.

After I was very kindly dropped off by my date’s girlfriend (still sounds so weird to say that) I felt a sense of unease. I felt as though I had just been entertainment for a happy couple.It’s like they bought tickets to an Adele concert and I was the Pussycat Dolls warm up act. Pussycat dolls are fun, but everyone’s just waiting for Adele to come on stage already and blow them away.

This was demonstrated even more vividly when there was no follow up text that night. Even on my very worst dates there has always been the obligatory “thanks for the meetup, I had fun” or something along those lines.

But my date was busy with his girlfriend, so why would he bother?

Now Lovers, if any of you are secondary’s I would love love love to hear how you feel about it, especially if you don’t have a primary. Am I taking it all wrong? Am I being too conventional? Or is it really as shitty as it feels?

I look forward to your stories my sexy beasts!

Claire xx

Best bonking song: Not Above Love

By: Aluna George

Best Used: If sex is getting boring and you want a giggle halfway through, pop this on your playlist. I don’t know about you Lovers, but when she sings the chorus “I’m not above love” it totally sounds like she’s singing “I’m not a butt plug”

Juvenile? Yes

Giggle inducing for me every time? Double yes!