He gave me my first butterfly



Clitoris, revenge of the sobbing orgasms


MY EXPERIENCES WITH vibrators are very limited because quite frankly, I never felt a need for them and I’m afraid that once I finally bought my first one, I wasn’t even sure how to use it or what to do with it at first. A while back, while in the heat of the moment, D. bought “blue” out and while we fucked, he gently massaged my clit while slowly increasing the pressure as we went along. Let me just say that like the Doublemint twins, vibrators do double your pleasure!

In the few weeks we’ve added them to our sex arsenal, I’ve noticed that a vibrator against my pink flower bud shields me from any discomfort I might feel during hardcore sex. The (double) stimulation breaks my barriers and swiftly brings forth my horny side and believe it or not, she is usually very shy. The stimulust also makes me want more, deeper, faster and harder. The pleasure I get from a vibrator’s contact against my clitoris is so delightfully intense that I can only stand it while D. is fully in me (or else I’d bite my hand off) and then it’s only for a few minutes at best. I feel a flood that starts, out of all places, from the middle of my back and just pushes out of me in a sea of beautiful thumping contractions.

But the thing that surprises me most about my relationship with vibrators is the orgasms I get from them. There is no squirting or moaning- my usual; just pleasure that takes my breath away and literally paralyze me and loud, wake-up the children sobs. Yes, sobs! And don’t you dare ask me what I’m sobbing about because I don’t have a damned clue!


Today I got toe-fucked!


THE KIDS ARE fast asleep in their respective beds and D. is mindlessly enjoying the hot soup I just served him while going over some construction materials he’d received from the State. I take a sit across from him. He doesn’t notice as I spread my legs; my damp red Victoria’s Secret robe falling to my sides, revealing my shy cunt. He doesn’t look up as I caress and grab my pussy. When I suck on my left index, lick my plump lips and slowly finger fuck myself, he just turns another page. I turn on my clit hummer and firmly place it right onto my pink bud. But Because I sense his full attention on me, I ignore him and focus on giving myself the best clit orgasm any woman’s ever had.

The effect is immediate. Warmth fills my insides as a long wave of pleasure, that starts in the middle of my back, wraps me in delights I can only qualify as ecstasy. My hungry pussy throbs and contracts around my, now, two frenetic fingers. While I wrestle with myself not to remove the vibrator from its grip on my seed, I instinctively bite my shoulder to refrain from moaning the neighbors awake. I look into D.’s feverous eyes and I can tell that my boldness has not only taken him aback, but it’s gotten his cock as erect as a flagpole. Silently thanking this blog for my newfound audacity, I will myself not to blush or stop. I am surprised when my moans turn into drunken giggles then loud sobs. I mean, WTF??

I almost topple over when D. grabs, then effortlessly pulls my chair closer to his. He puts his right foot on my chair, right between my legs, to steady us. The incident leaves me dazed for only a second but long enough for his voice, rogue with desire, to order me to spread my legs wider to let him watch. I hold on to the table and comply. Without notice, his tick, cold hallux- his big toe, penetrates my soaked cunt and to my surprise, I love the tight, snug feel against my throbbing insides. With the vibrator making me hornier by the second and the toe hitting my G-spot just right, it takes little for me to cum- hard! I feel my release rising up deep in my groin, swelling in my bladder and bubbling up to my urethra. But I am too ecstatic to care that soon, my orgasm will gush out of me like a faulty faucet, sink deep into my favorite chair and down the tiles I so carefully picked out in a mean Home Depot line-up. D. is surprised by how fast I orgasm but with a proud grin he stands up:

“Now, let me show you what Big Toe’s daddy can do for you baby. Bend over!”

I obediently do as I’m told because in the eight years we’ve been married and the nine we’ve been fucking, every orgasm, every sigh, every moan and word uttered during sex, has been genuwine and it's mostly because D. is just a great mother fucker.

Is it still rape if I enjoyed it?


I ASK NOT to offend or shock. But because honestly, I am not sure what to call a great fuck I didn’t ask for, or agree to. The truth is that when D. and I fight, our anger instantaneously turns into pure, animalistic lust and this has gotten us into trouble time and time again but we never seem to learn. When I’m angry at D., I hate him with every fiber of my being, I can't even stand to look at him, yet all I want to do is fuck him to death. Yesterday night, while at his uncle’s, D. and I had a brief, but meaningful fight over the balance of our marriage. I felt insulted and unappreciated and he was taken over by guilt for his outburst and its' searing content. For almost twenty four hours, I didn't speak to him; I even spent half the night next to our bed, on the floor, in protest. D. tossed and turned the whole night; he reasoned and argued, even bribed me with my favorite juice but nothing worked and the angrier I became, the more my body hungered for the warmth of his cock and his expert touch.

I rarely wear clothes when at home and today, as I am making the bed, I doze off with nothing on but a small towel around my waist and the comfy black nursing bra I refuse to part with. I feel his presence towering above me even before I am lucid enough to open my eyes. Instinct tells me we both know what’s about to happen, but my unresolved anger and misplaced pride won’t let me offer my soaking pussy on a platter. He watches me intently as I proudly get up from the bed and proceed to leave the room. I gasp in surprise when, without a sound, D. grabs both my arms from behind and slams me hard on the bed. I hear him slowly unzipping his dark blues. I decide to seize the moment his pants drop to the floor as my chance to escape. But deep into folding his jeans, D. does nothing to stop me as I run right past him. Just seconds before I reach the bedroom doors, I feel my feet leave firm ground before I am catapulted forth; landing head first, deep into the soft mattress.

The anger, hate, pain, fear and lust that’s been holding me hostage for the past 24 hours melt into each other and I am energized and determined to stop him. I try to gather myself up long enough to face D., to tell him to fuck off. But next to his 200pounds of sheer muscle, my soft 135 is nothing more than baby weight. D. wastes no time getting down to business, I feel him pulling me down, closer to the edge of the bed and as hard as I resist and hold onto the sheets, it takes little effort on his part for me to end up with half of my soaring body high above me. I scream in indignation and in hope that the fact that our neighbors can hear us will make him stop. He just slams my face deep into the sheets. I gasp for air and get the message! When D. deems me calm enough to release his grip on my ponytail, I beg weakly: “Please! Don’t!”

“Don’t worry” he quietly whispers “You know you’ll like this.”

I know he is right and with a wide grin on my face, I bite my lip and brace myself for the lesson and the pleasures to come.

[To be continued…]

Just fuck him!


AT SOME POINT, for most women in committed relationships, sex becomes just another daunting chore to get through at the end of a long exhausting day. We let marital issues, children and stress get in the way of the (most?) important aspect of our marriage that also used to be one of our favorite activity; way back when the love was new, the sex magnificent. As impossible as it may seem, there is a way out of the sexless blues we know and despise so greatly.

*I*The body you used to have is gone and unfortunately, it ain’t coming back. I know it sucks but you better get to loving your new body, exercising more, eating healthy and moving on. Plus, chances are, your spouse doesn’t give a damn about, or even notice, your physical changes. If your man is anything like most men out there, he care more about what you taste like and how many times you let them hit it.

*II*Watch porn! There is no easier way to get in the mood than watching (skillful?) actors going at it like there is no tomorrow. So, put your inhibitions aside, google “free porn” and watch. Watch ‘til your mind races and you pussy tingles.

*III*Government checks aren’t the only way to getting a gratifying and free stimulus. Reading erotic stories prior to getting it on and keeping a steamy sex diary are sure ways to getting the fuck me now fire ablaze and raging.

*IV*No matter how tired you are when he rolls over and “accidentally” pokes you in the ass with his dick, you have to admit that sex is still pleasurable when you let go and participate. It relaxes and de-stresses better than a shiatsu massage; plus you can’t be the price. So, next time the urge to say no to your man overcomes you, resist fiercely! There was a time in my marriage when while other couples fought over money, bills and children, D. and I constantly fought over sex. If I didn’t give him an “I’m tired”, it was an unconvincing “later”; He pressured and I panicked, but nothing changed. We tried anything to have more, better sex. From pacts to fuck daily, to never saying no, nothing worked. But when I decided to have sex for my own, much deserved pleasure and blog about it things changed tremendously. Now, we get to fight over my poor habits.

*V*Stuck at home all day with brats? Finally out of the clutch of an asshole boss? Ready to unwind but you just don’t know how to let go of the stress long enough to give into the carnal pleasures your partner is offering? Tuck the kids in, uncork a champagne bottle and toast the fact that you are lucky enough to have a dick-on-command* and use the opportunity to get spermed, because if you don’t, it will be your loss anyway and besides, someone else just might.

Pussy cake and anal cherry.


I'LL HAVE TO admit that I am an ass woman. There, I said it! Yes, there is nothing sexier to me than a pair of firmly plump, oval cheeks protruding from a tight pair of Geoffrey Beene boxers; and when the Lord made D., He gave him an ass so lusciously succulent, Tyson Beckford would blush in envy to have one just like it.

No matter what mood I’m in, D. knows that all it takes, to get my mind racing and my body aching for his dick, is for him to put on my favorite pair of his boxers or just prance around the house with his white towel loosely tied around his ripped abdomen, barely covering my gifts. Pants, regardless of the fabric they are made of, just wrap around D.’s fine ass and cup his cock in such a way that all I can think of is how nice it would feel for me to grow a penis right then and there and just shove it in him. I mean isn’t it just so fucking unfair that some animals can surf genders and even procreate; yet I can’t even grow a finger, let alone a penis. For years, I’ve fantasized and even dreamed about doing D. but my fear of him judging me and shame he might label me a freak kept me from admitting that I want to peg the sperm out of my 6’3, two hundred pounds, macho, construction working man.

Prior to us meeting at our spot in the living room, D. sets the vibrator I promised to let him use on my clit, the lube and the fresh condoms we bought earlier on the side table. While we kiss, suck and fuck our way to kingdom cum, my mind is solely fixed on the prize. I couldn’t grow a cock whenever I wanted one but thanks to the sex gods in California, we have the next best thing: a dildo. As D. rides me from the top, I beg him to stop and let me fuck him for a change; but my pleas fall on deaf ears. In fact, they only fuel his thirst to give me more. D. loses himself in my depths and while promising to make my cunt spit out its’ G-spot, he lifts and flips me on all fours, to get better access at my Anny. As D. rides my cunt like a Kentucky Derby jockey, I give into the pleasures he delivers to perfection. With each gush of liquid orgasm that rocks my body, my desire for pegging him dissolves into numb, blissful ecstasy.

As D.’s fingers move from massaging my ass to the valley of my forbidden garden, I must admit that it feels too good for me to hear my fears or listen to my feelings about anal sex. I don’t (want to) stop him when he penetrates me with the dildo I intended to use on him because the dual pleasure, from his dick rimming my cunt and the dildo filling up my ass, sends me over the edge. As I begin to get used to the feeling of being filled to capacity, D. puts on one of the condoms and follows the path of no return. It feels like heaven as his warm cock enters me and slowly but firmly he forces himself in. D. grabs my ass cheeks and softly but surely, he rocks me into submission…

It was about time I lost my cherry.