Monday, April 9, 2012

Vagina Worship

Worship the Vagina. Really, go do it. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting you build a shrine to the almighty vagina and spend time lighting incense and paying homage to this beautiful organ. Well, I mean, if you want to, sure, go ahead. You won't be the first and you won't be the last. But that's not quite what I mean here.

Every vagina should be worshiped. Seriously. Every. Vagina. Whether you worship your own vagina, worship a vagina, or even better--have someone worship yours, it's worthy of praise. 

One night as Mr and I were engaging in some sexy time in bed, he positioned himself to go down on me. As I opened before him, the sight, smell, and taste of my vagina was arousing him, he groaned. He loves my vagina. He thinks it's the most miraculous, beautiful thing that has ever been created. Now, this is not a new activity for us, but I was really attuned to his reaction to me. It was just as arousing for me to recognize how much he loved my vagina as it was for him to be there to pleasure me. I'm lucky, I have a partner who loves pleasuring me, just for the sake of pleasuring me... more than he wants pleasure himself.  There is rarely an experience where I'm not his focus. Even when I'm making him my focus, I'm still his. This is after ten years! I'm not lucky, I'm blessed!

It was the inspiration to write this post, really. I wanted to share that, in terms of who you choose to be intimate with, it should be someone who just loves your body. Whether it's for that moment, that day, that month, that year, or for a lifetime--shouldn't the lover you take think that your body is just incomprehensibly amazing?!

If you don't have a lover, worship your own vagina! Spend time with it. Explore what you like. Try new things. Try new toys, and lubes, and textures. If you don't have a vagina (or simply don't identify with it), but enjoy sex with women, consider the beauty of the vagina for just a brief moment. There are so many ways to bring pleasure to a woman via her vagina. The clitoris, the hood, the labia, the G-Spot, the A-Spot, the... the... the...

Don't worry about what your vagina looks like. Every vagina is different. Some women have large labia (majora or minora). Some women have a clitoris that is very large, and some women have a clitoris that hides under the hood. Don't look to pornography to tell you what your vagina (or your lover's vagina) should look like, please. This is akin to looking at fashion magazines to tell you what you should look like. It's unrealistic and detrimental to your psyche. I think what can be said about body image can easily be translated to your genitals, if you love them, others will love them too.

I was out with some friends recently and dating, lovers, sex... all of that came up in conversation. One said to me, quite enthusiastically I might add, "I don't want a girlfriend who only wants my vagina. I want a girlfriend who loves vagina. I want a girlfriend who looks at my body and loves all my parts!"

This is exactly true. Whether you're 120 pounds or 320 pounds, you should be with someone who loves your parts. Someone who wants to pleasure your parts. Someone who worships your vagina. I hope that anyone who's spending time in your garden, thinks it's amazing... if not, it's time to find a new gardener, if you get what I'm saying!

**Note to readers: I did not address the topic of those who do not wish to have their genitals touched because that is their preference. I would never suggest to someone that they engage in a sexual behavior that is undesirable to them. Same goes for those who are asexual and do not wish to engage in any sexual activity, regardless of their (or their partner's) gender and/or sex.**

Monday, January 30, 2012

Surviving a Near-Divorce

I mentioned in my post about my new goals for this blog that I was taking questions, and actually got one from a commenter that same night! I'm STOKED!

The question was: How did you survive a near divorce? Well, to make a long story short, communication.

Now, I'll elaborate. In this major low point of our marriage, there was no infidelity. I have been changing as an individual for the past couple of years. In a 8.5 year marriage, it's not unexpected for individuals to change; however, my husband felt, and still feels, that I changed very quickly. It felt like a slap in the face. Especially when so much of me was changing; and how I identified sexually was the biggest issue for him. (I'll save the explanation of my sexual orientation for another day, not that it needs to be addressed, unless inquiring minds want to know that badly!) The biggest issue, for me, was feeling like I wasn't being treated with respect.

There were huge fights. Threats of divorce. Threats of custody battles. Many threats. Many hurtful things were said. It came right down to the point where we both had to make the conscious choice to either stay and try as hard as we can to make it work, or cut our losses and start over. We decided to fight. Whether we chose it because we didn't want to lose each other, or whether we wanted to do this for the sake of our children, none of that mattered. Whatever our individual reasons were, we chose to try and make it work. (Bah! For the sake of full-disclosure, I'll admit that I chose mostly because I love him.)

That was the turning point. The choice. Making the decision to stay and fight allowed us to lower our defenses and actually communicate for the first time in months. Now that we knew that both of us were going to try and make this work, sharing our feelings and fears openly was less scary. We knew that the other was still going to be there even when all the issues were on the table.

You may be wondering why "we saw a counselor" isn't part of the scenario. (Since I want to be a therapist, I will say that you should be wondering that. Counseling is a huge piece of the puzzle for making a marriage in distress work.) The simple answer is that we did see a counselor, a few years ago, for other issues. We knew how to communicate. We knew the tools. It was simply a matter of being rededicated to making it work in order for us to access those tools. We did, also, see a counselor this time as well. Once. Finances kept us from returning, but even the first (and only) session helped us map out the issues we needed to address, and that was huge for us.

So, now... How do you survive a near divorce? Choice, Counseling, and Communication. Hm, the 3-Cs of repairing a marriage? Should I patent that?

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sexuality in General

The inspiration for this post is from a facebook status I read last night.

Why are we so afraid of sexuality? Not sexual orientation (though I don't understand that either), but sexuality in and of itself. Basically, I just want to know why it is that most people enjoy and love sex, but are afraid to talk about it, admit we enjoy it, admit we use vibrators and dildos, or that some of us enjoy a kinkier flavor of sex? I guess what I fail to understand is how, as a society, we call for the breakdown of conservative thinking, but still feel like sex is taboo?

Personally, I feel like it is something that has been ingrained from older, more traditional generations. But here's the catch, if we're trying to break away from that, isn't it our responsibility to break down those barriers? We  can't expect to raise up a generation that is free from the bondage (*snort* I don't mean that kind of bondage!) of the traditional mindset if we don't do it ourselves. I'm not suggesting that everyone disregard their filter. Goodness knows, a modicum of modesty is still appreciated by me. I simply don't see the point in slut-shaming your neighbor because you found out she likes to get a little freaky!

So, tell me what you think!

Saturday, January 28, 2012

A New Goal(s)

I know, I know. I haven't been here in a very long time. I've been busy with roller derby, family, a near-divorce, and all kinds of other things! I did decide that I am going back to school, which means a couple of things:

  1. That I will probably have less time for what I want to do here.
  2. That I'm finally going to start doing what I want someday, which is to counsel survivors, couples, and individuals in sexual health and other issues. I'm a little scared.
What do I want to do here? Well, I want to start answering your questions! Any questions you may have about sex, toys, being a survivor, I want them and I will either answer them in a video or in a text post.

I'm really excited to start this endeavor and I'm looking even more forward to hearing what kinds of things are on your mind! I'll also be posting stories (<-- like that one) here. 

First Time (working title)--Open Topic (erotica)--NSFW

We've been dancing this dance for a while. A lot of flirting. A little kissing. It's all very well and good, but it's time to move on from this. The steps, while fun, are starting to get repetitious and I'm a little ADD.

I understand why it's awkward. My situation is not the socially-accepted convention, and it's hard to give in to something that seems so wrong. I notice a curiosity in your eyes and I wonder if you're not a little intrigued by the whole thing. How would this work?

I pull you aside, and in a room full of people, it's hard not to be heard. I look at you and, for once, you don't look away. “Tonight,” I say, low enough that only you can hear me, but loud enough that the jukebox doesn't drown me out. I needn't have worried because you were reading my lips. It seems like since the first time we kissed, you are always looking at my them. I sneak a kiss because you look so eager.

Desire burns through me as I touch your lips, and I can tell by the intake of breath that I'm not alone in my desires. I turn from you and start saying goodbye to my friends.

I go sit in my car for a few minutes and let it warm up. Within five minutes, you're sitting in the passenger seat. Finally, I have you completely alone. I never thought it'd happen.

“I can't take you home with me,” I say to you.

“We can go to my apartment. I have a roommate though. I don't know how you feel about that.”

“I'm okay with that. I like being discreet, but I'm not hiding anything. I'm not doing anything wrong,” I reply. Your shoulders tense up and I can see that you're still having trouble with this. I lean over and kiss you, really kiss you for the first time since this dance started. Your shoulders relax as you get lost in the kiss, and I pull away from you with my hand on the back of your sexy, slender neck. “You know we have an arrangement. This is not about my relationship with him. You're not taking me away from him. This is in addition to loving him, not in spite of...”

You're staring at me intensely, and for once, I can't read the look in your eyes. I know there's confusion and indecision, but there's something else too. You turn your body, and I have a moment of panic because I think you're leaving. Instead, you settle back in seat and say, “I don't live far from here.”

From there you give me directions to your apartment. We luck out and your roommate is already sleeping. We sit on the couch and you immediately stand up. “Would you like a glass of wine? I would like a glass of wine.” It's so cute how nervous you are. Truth be told, my insides are doing somersaults in my throat. “No. But if you have a beer, I'd be okay with that.”

You walk into the kitchen then with two beers.

“Are you sure you're okay with everything that's going on here?” I ask. “I know this is kind of intense. I'm not just married, but I've also never been with a woman. Are you sure this is something you can handle?”

You take a long draw from your beer and I get worried again. “Yeah. I think I can.” I look at you, our bodies are angled towards each other, our knees are touching and I am rubbing your legs with both of my hands, “Are you sure? I want to do this, but I need you to be sure.” You look nervous and shy, it's all very hot. The look in your eyes changes as you stare at me. I feel your eyes wander my body and you lean in and kiss me again. The butterflies in my stomach are going crazy.

The kissing intensifies, my hands are wandering, exploring under your shirt. I lay you back on the couch and have you pinned under my body. My hands can't get enough of your soft skin, your supple flesh.

I stand up abruptly and you arch your eyebrow at me. I hold out my hand for yours and you use it to stand up. “Your room?” I ask. Your roommate may be asleep, but she's still home and I'm in no mood for an audience. You're leading me back to your bedroom. I'm nervous and giddy. You walk into your room and I stop at the door, so you walk back over to me and put your hands on my sides, pressing yourself against me.

“Come in,” you say in a low, enchanting voice. My whole body shivers as you press your pelvis against mine. You pull away from me, your fingers in my belt loops, and pull me into your room and close the door behind me.

You take off your shirt, you're not wearing a bra, and your breasts are full and heavy. They seem to ache for touch. You're like a siren, calling to me, and I cannot resist you. I grab your waist and pull you closer to me. My hands are on your back. Your skin is warm and smooth. My hands glide all over your exposed flesh. I am caressing your breasts tenderly. Tentatively. I don't want to fumble. This part I've done before. I am crushing your mouth, then kissing your cheeks. I start to kiss, lick, and nibble your slender neck.

My hands are traveling down from your breasts, down your rib cage, tracing the hourglass shape of your body down to your hips. My hands pause at the top of your jeans. I pull back and look at you again, roaming your body with my eyes. My hands slide forward to the button of your pants and begin to fumble with the button. My heart is racing. This is where all my confidence flies away. My hands are trembling, and I can tell you want to help me, but you don't and I'm appreciative of your awareness of my needs.

I manage to get your jeans undone and slide them down your legs. You step out of them and kick them away from where we're standing. I awkwardly guide you to the bed and have you sit on the edge. I kneel in front of you and pull your knees apart, then slowly crawl into the space between them. I'm looking up at you, afraid. I feel like a young child, despite the fact that I'm older than you. You're staring at me, then you lean down to kiss me, reassuringly. I feel comforted by the act, and annoyed that I needed it so badly. I try to push my insecurity away as the kiss intensifies.

Once more, I'm at your breasts. I'm a little more at ease in this familiar territory. I take one of your nipples to my mouth. I'm caressing it with my tongue, and there's conviction in my movements. I'm tender and sensual, but firm with my tongue. I feel your nipple harden, letting me know you're aroused. I flick your nipple with my tongue. I tug gently with my teeth. My hand is kneading your other breast and mimicking the motions of my tongue with my fingers. I look up at you during this, and that is when I see your eyes closed and you're breathing heavily. I'm encouraged by my view and continue onto your other breast with my mouth, putting my warm hand where my mouth once was. You let a moan escape. It's barely audible to my ear, but I can feel it vibrate your chest. My pussy clenches.

After some time, I reluctantly remove my mouth from your breasts. Our eyes meet again, and all that's there is desire. We kiss again, but not for long. I want to feel the rest of you; taste the rest of you. I am kissing down your arms, your breasts, your ribs, your soft stomach. I back up a little on my knees and you stand up to remove your underwear. You're wearing these almost brief-looking boy shorts. I move your hands away from the waist band and take a long look at you. I start sliding them down your hips slowly. Kissing your hip bones as I expose them. I'm running my lips across the top of your pelvis where your pubic hair stops. Your underwear is down around your ankles now and the smell of your wetness is intoxicating.

I plunge my tongue into your bush in a clumsy attempt to find your clit. I feel your body shake a little from the giggle you let escape. I heard it, but it doesn't deter. I finally find your button and I hear your breath suck in. My hands are cupping your ass, supporting you as I tickle your clit with my tongue. Your hands are in my hair, hanging on, but not pulling or pushing my head. I stare up at you and you're starting to bring your head back up from where it had fallen back when I hit your center. You look down, our eyes meet, you smile, I push harder against your clit, your eyes widen.

I want more of you. I want to do more with you. I let go of your ass and pull away from you. I stand up and kiss you again. “Lie down, please,” I whisper. You start to oblige me, but stop. Instead you remember what I've completely forgotten, and that is that I am still completely clothed and you are seeking to change this. I am immediately anxious and start to pull away a little. You grab my hand, “Hey, I wouldn't be here with you if there was anything to be ashamed of.” I can't look you in the eyes, but I stop resisting. You lift my shirt over my head, then undo my jeans and slide them down. You sit me on the edge of the bed, take off my shoes, and complete the task. You kneel up in front of me, reaching your arms to my back and undo my bra.

You leave my panties be for the moment. “Sit against the wall.” You aren't asking. I oblige, if anything, out of curiosity. You straddle me and begin to kiss me. My arms go around your waist and I pull you close to me while we kiss. My left hand is roaming your body and stops on your thigh. I bring it down and start to finger you while we kiss. I tease your clit and slowly work my finger back to your pussy. I dip one, then two fingers into you and slowly search for your G-spot. I know I've found it when you pull out of the kiss and plant yourself down on my hand. I keep massaging your cunt and use my right thumb to start rubbing your clit.

You bring your feet under my thighs for support. You're moaning loudly now and I wonder if I'm actually going to make you cum. I'm a little surprised that you're enjoying this as much as you seem to be, but I'm not stopping to ask if you're okay. You're grabbing your breasts and rocking gently, but steadily against my fingers. My thumb is between your hood and your clit and I start to work my thumb faster to match your own speed, and use a touch more pressure. You're starting to sweat a little and all doubt I had as to your pleasure vanishes.

We continue on like this for another minute or two, when suddenly your cunt is gripping my fingers like a vice, and you crash down onto me. Your head is on my chest. You're moaning loudly. Your body is trembling. I'm in awe. With myself. With you. I commit those sounds, those feelings, to memory. I'm kissing your neck, your cheeks, your shoulders. I pull my hands away from you and hold you tight.

You've caught your breath and you're snuggled up against my chest, still straddling me, enjoying the aftermath of your orgasm. I'm caressing your back, hips, arms. You climb off of my lap and I lie down across your bed. I pull you down into my arms on top of me and start kissing you again. Your hand is getting adventurous, seeking all the little spots that will get me to moan, groan, or giggle from being tickled. I reach my hand to yours and hold it for a minute. I stop kissing you and just stare into your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. “Don't you want this?”

“Yeah, I do. Just.” I sigh. “I just wanted to say...”

“Say what? Whatever you have to say, it's okay.”

I pull you down for a quick hug, then admit something I feared. “It's just that I am nervous...”

“Uh-huh.” Oh, how I hate interjections.

I roll my eyes at you as the only signal of my irritation, “... and when I'm nervous it's not easy for me to have an orgasm, and um...”

You start to giggle. Now I'm embarrassed and defensive. I open my mouth to express my frustration, but I'm met with your lips. At first, the kiss is playful but it quickly deepens and becomes voracious. You move on top of me and are grinding up against me as you kiss me. I grab your shoulders and pull you off of me enough to make you take me seriously, and you slide off of me to left side and stare back at me. Your expression slightly annoyed and bemused.

“What...” I start. You interject. Have I mention how much I hate interjections? I am glaring a little.

“That, to me, was honest, and I took it as a challenge. I want you to lay back and let go. I want you to just feel this. Feel me.”

You're back on my mouth, kissing me. Your hands are on my breasts, kneading them. You're making your way down my body and put your fingers inside the elastic of my panties. You reach in and smile big at me.

“You're not shaved!”

“Um, no.”

“Do you know how many girls shave? I hate it.”

You dip your fingers into my pussy. You've found my clit and I groan. I try to relax, to feel you, as you asked, but you're looking into my eyes and it makes me nervous. You plunge two fingers into my cunt and plant your thumb firmly on my clit. It feels amazing and I finally succumb to the sensations and close my eyes. Maybe someday I can watch you watch me; but this night, my first time, is not the night. You continue to massage my breasts with one hand while you fuck me with the other. You're building up speed and I'm relishing the waves of pleasure that are washing over me, bringing me closer to orgasm. Then, you come to a stop. I come down off my pleasure high and open my eyes to see what's going on. I no sooner prop my head up than you have your face buried in my pussy. Your velvety tongue is soft and hot as it explores me. My head drops back onto the bed and I start to get lost in the sensations. You make your tongue flat and firm and start lapping at my clit. You've got your fingers caressing my labia and teasing me. I grind up against your fingers to let you know that I want you to fuck me again. After a few attempts, you start to get the picture, but you pull your hand away a bit.

“Hmm? What's that?” you ask, playfully. I groan and whimper a bit. “I don't understand what you want, you should ask me.”

I'm embarrassed that you're toying with me. Where did all the understanding we had earlier go? I don't give up control very easily and my ego is a little wounded at the moment, but I know you won't give me what I want unless I ask.

“Please, will you fuck me?” I finally ask, barely audible.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What do you want?”

I'm angry, but I'm aching for you. You're not touching me at all now, and so I grudgingly say a little louder, “Please. Fuck me.”

I think you get the hint that if you push me further, neither of us will get what we're looking for, so you don't demand my politeness, and I wonder to myself, how did we get here?

You push two fingers into me and start fucking me roughly. Your fingers, luckily enough, are not too long, so you're hitting all the right spots; they're also a little thick and make me feel fuller than I expected. I want you to put your mouth on me again, but I refuse to ask for anything again because my pride is still bruised. I try to forget what I am wanting and, instead, just focus on what's going on. I'm close to orgasm. I'm getting out of breath. My moaning is getting louder. A few choice words escape from under my breath, and with that, I hear you giggle again. You're watching me, I realize. I try to put it out of my mind, but it's so damn distracting. My face must be giving it away because, before I even have a chance to try and put it out of my mind, you're tongue hits my clit.

I am taken by surprise, “Aaaahhh---aaahh.” At least you know I'm distracted!

“Fuck, that feels good!” I blurt out. Your mouth is working vigorously while your fingers work on my G-spot. Waves of pleasure are crashing over me, repeatedly. I'm no longer aware of where I am, or my volume. I'm so close to orgasm that I finally let go of my inhibitions, and right then I finally come. I'm yelling, moaning, laughing... It's all good, I'm relaxed and feeling the aftershocks course through me.

You crawl up and lie down beside me. You are so smug, and I want to be irritated but it all feels too good right now to give in to that feeling.

We look at each other and both give in to the giggling that's been bubbling under the surface since the night started; we release our nervous energy. You're stroking my hair and kissing me. I'm caressing your shoulders and back, tracing the curves from your ribs to your hip and savoring the feel of your smooth supple skin.

After laying there for a short while, I get up and start to get dressed. “Going so soon?” I turn back to look at you. You look confused and a little dejected.

“Yeah, I need to get home.” The reality of our situation is dawning on us. Both of us know that there may never be more than this night.