Sex. In Detail.

 Oh my gosh, oh my gosh… I totally ejaculated! I drooled all over the place! It was awesome!
 
I like exclamation points!
 
At first I thought that “drooling” was sort of an unfair characterization, but after some reflection I figured it wasn’t that inaccurate of a word. I might have gone with “leaked” - but hey, is a broken faucet really that much of a step up in the characterization world?
 
I don’t know if this is a repeatable event. My body was relaxed, I felt very good, and then things sort of came out and I felt even better. I had very little to do with it other than being there and providing fluids. I sure hope he remembers what was going on.
 
It didn’t happen at the same time as orgasm. I wonder if that’s how it usually is. I wonder how many guys ejaculate without having an orgasm. I wonder where babies come from. Kidding. I never wonder about that one. But I do wonder where ejaculate comes from. I think that might have been explained to me at some point while I was in the random yurt staring deeply into the random woman’s vagina, but - for reasons that are hopefully understandable - I let that memory get fuzzy quickly.
 
Today has reminded me a lot of how I felt after the first time I had sex. “Hmm. Neat. So that’s what everyone has been yammering about.”
 
I’m smiling more today than I was the first time after sex, though. Not to be too harsh on my close encounter of the first kind, but… well… nevermind. BIL hates comparisons, even when they might be to his advantage.
 
Let’s just say that I heart BIL and that he’s my hero and so on.
Droooooool.

The pizza dude was hot. Hotter than the pizza, frankly. For a moment … I had thoughts.

But I don’t roll like that anymore.

He did, however, ask us how much rent would be. Are there any porns where people skip the one night stand and end up just being roommates with the hot pizza guy?

I wonder if BIL would approve.

Mr. Chubbs would definitely not approve. But he’s a cat. He’s supposed to hate everyone a little bit.

When I kiss him, there are sparks. Literally.

It’s cute,  but it sort of hurts. Do I spend my nights sleepwalking back and forth over very dry carpet or something?

Maybe I need more fabric softener in my life.

Or maybe I shouldn’t look a gift spark in the mouth?

Har har.

Mouse ears

Handstand

Oral sex

Plenty of you out there probably have a cat or dog or hamster or snake or whatever that has ignored you or bugged you while you’re trying to get it on. And I’ll bet you that most people who have a male dog have seen the male dog do things to itself that most male humans would totally try if they were only more flexible. You ignore the male dog while it’s doing its thing, the male dog ignores you while you’re doing your thing, and we all live in relative harmony.
 
What’s the point of this entry? Today my cat took the “we’re all friends here, don’t mind me” peace agreement to a whole new level. I’m a face-down masturbater. It’s easier to grind that way. Cat decided that my back was a very comfortable place to perch. I didn’t quite know what to do about this. On the one hand, kinda weird. On the other hand, I was close and didn’t want to start over, and he wasn’t really bothering me. He was just sort of chillin.
 
Purring is not sexy. But I’m a determined person. I completely ignored everything else but the cheerleader I was fantisizing about, and I finished that orgasm, damn it. I’m not sure whether to be proud of myself or feel very, very lame.
 
Next time I’m going to have to be more careful about the door being all the way shut. Or perhaps masturbate only while a vacuum cleaner is running. That would definitely guarantee me some cat privacy.
 
Pushy roommate.

I have to confess that I’ve been on a quest to accomplish female ejaculation. It has become a life mission.  It’s a little bit of an odd mission because I have at least one partner who insists that I have already ejaculated, but I don’t remember doing it. I say if I can’t remember it, it doesn’t count. It’s like you can’t claim you’ve seen the top of Everest if you don’t remember the damn thing.

So I went to this G spot seminar. While I’m already friends with my G spot, it seems that people don’t talk about fem-ej without tossing out the G word. Er, letter. And besides, there’s nothing wrong with getting a new perspective on pleasure. 

The seminar was held in a tent with mattresses of questionable cleanliness. Fortunately the instructor opted to skip the hands on portion. Well, I guess it was fortunate for my hygiene and health but unfortunate from a learning perspective. Instead I was given the - opportunity? - to watch a stranger hop on a table, spread her legs, and show the audience her vag. I’m going to mark down that day as the one where I firmly, definitely decided that I am not a lesbian. There was nothing sexy about that display. … Although, I suppose I wouldn’t get all that excited if some strange dude dropped his junk on a table in front of me. Anyway.

We talked about anatomy (already know that), about toys with special curves in them (check), about the importance of warming up (yeah yeah), and about how apparently some prostitutes use sea sponge instead of tampons because then they can have sex during their periods (huh - I’ll look into that and report back).

What we did NOT talk about was how to get me fucking ejaculating. This makes me annoyed enough that I could spit - right out of my special female ducts. I give this class a G.

Perhaps one day I’ll find secrets of the magical fountain of fem-ej. If I do, I promise to share the love.