Shheesh

Do you know how hard it is to consider getting yourself off after a call from your grandmother? DAMN IT!

I could have really used it.

I am having one of those days

Learn To Love Fat
Richard Wilkinson


Ever wake up aroused wishing that you could spend the day in bed your skin covered in sweat, lube and semen? I am having one today. Even sneezes feel orgasmic. Naturally, I am alone. I guess it is back to solitary masturbation for me.

I hope I don't get to the point where I associate sexual ecstasy with lonely weeping. This is getting depressing.

Did you feel it?

Is there still a connection?

When I whispered your name while I touched myself I still felt a bond. The rush of euphoria that I came to associate with you.

Did you shiver as I called for you?

Or did you shudder with scorn at my weakness and inconstancy?

Masturbation Month!

In celebration of Masturbation Month, Early to Bed, the women owned sex-toy shop in Chicago is sponsoring a haiku contest...

Here are my modest attempts:

Breeze over my skin
Fingers nimble on my flesh
Fire explodes, sun still

Gently cushion me
While my skin beckons forth, my
Self, soul, soft covers

Beneath my hot touch
Exciting the flames of cold
Nipples desiring

Enjoying my self
Wet, quiet, wildly pulsing
Curves, Lushly Me

My tangy goodness
Spreading through my body, taste
And touch, all for me


Visit their blog and add your own entries!





Reclining Nude
David Riedel
1995

Oooops!

What do you do when you crush the fingers that you use to masturbate with?


I guess I will practice my ambidextrous skills.

My wild weekend?

My apologies to Smooth Brad for the lateness of this posting..

Sadly my computer gave me nothing but trouble last week and this week too, in truth, and I have had difficulty posting virtually anything. Sigh.

The party that I attended was a delightful affair. I was particularly pleased with my dress... which I wore for the first time. One of the party attendees, a woman I have known for 20 or so years and dresses impressively in Chanel and St. John almost all of the time, complimented me on the beauty of the lace of my new frock. This was delightful to me.

Overall, it was a lovely evening of fine food, clever people and lots of tasty cocktails. All in all, a good time.

The next day, I got a very late start for my weekend. Why? The PK kept creating obstacles. No surprise there, I suppose.

Eventually I got downtown and checked into the hotel.

I got to my room and found two things.

A. I had no bathtub (a secondary issue)

and

B. I had no internet access. I couldn't even catch a bit of spare wi-fi...

In other words... a disaster.

Better yet? My cell phone battery was low and I forgot the charger in my haste.

I hadn't had high expectations for the night, but they just dropped exponentially... with the speed of pyroclastic blast down Mt. St. Helens fast and disaster wise. Truth be told, a friend of mine talked me into posting an ad on CL to see if I could find someone to hang out with. I have never done that before and figured at least I would be amused watching people in the bar wondering if anyone was looking for me.. ultimately the majority of the men that responded to my ad (before it was blocked as if I was offering prostitution services... this should have been my first warning of trouble to come) didn't pay the slightest attention to what I wrote... a couple that did, weren't interested in me once they discovered what I looked like... ultimately I figured that the chances were slim to none that anyone would be tempted by or be considered tempting by me. Still, I liked the possibility that I could be the kind of woman to be picked up in a bar... a sense that there was something of a temptress about me.

Instead. I spent the evening out of communication with the world with no tub to soak, cry and drink overly priced minibar chardonnay in. And yes, I know that sentence is wrong grammatically and I don't care.

I did go down to the bar. I took a book.. so that I didn't look totally pitiful, ate some lovely hors d'oeuvres and drank not the overly oaked aforementioned chardonnay but instead a fairly decent cheap pinot grigio. There were virtually no men there alone and the one that I saw, I discovered the next day was married.. no wonder I couldn't make eye contact... or maybe I just suck at it.

Ultimately, I left the bar, found my way back to my room and masturbated wildly while trying to imagine what I might have done had I had access to my computer to do something truly naughty... or I might have been thinking about what the guys from Myth Busters would look like naked and mid-orgasm. And yes, I get to keep to myself which Myth Buster I was fantasizing about the most.

Saturday, I was finally not alone, joined by my best friend who sadly for me is moving to Connecticut at the end of the week. Yes, I realize how much that sucks.. and yes, I realize that my life is descending into a suck fest. We did have a good day, having lunch, massages and then dinner out at Butter.

We loved our dinner and failed to behave like typical girls having a spritzer and a salad and instead feasted on the white truffle tasting menu and included the wine pairings. It was an amazing meal with excellent liquor and then we were invited back to the kitchen to meet the Chef, Ryan Poli and his staff.

We rolled back to the hotel and went to bed. Kind of sad, really. Sigh.

And that Brad was that. Sorry to disappoint.

HNT-42

I am getting excited.. Tomorrow I am off to a holiday party...

Then Friday I will be celebrating a weekend sans famille...Friday I will be alone... I have done this before, I go to a hotel spend some time at the bar where I am ignored then retire to my room. There I masturbate, dreaming of a tongue and teeth gently pulling on my nipple and a voice hoarsely instructing me to lift my hips higher as I roll my swollen, wet clit between my middle and index fingers. I will keep those fingers wet, not damp, as I swirl around and around my sensitive nub until I cry out... as the electricity jolting my body fades, I will rewet my fingers and reapply them to my body.. bringing me to the edge, then plummetting over again and again.

Is this as good as sharing with another human? God, no. But it is what I can depend on. Myself.