Present, Tense

I came home today from work feeling incredibly horny. Just exploding with horny. Like ten pounds of horny in a five pound sack. Yeah, I was horny. How horny was I? I wish I could come up with a suitable Rodney Dangerfield joke about horniness here, but I'm too damn horny. I tell ya, I was hornier than a Catherine the Great on stable-cleaning day. Horny!

I couldn't do anything about it right away; I had to deal with dinner and then decompress. But I'm now going to do the only thing I have, which is to pick out a couple of toys and have fun with them, because fingers ain't gonna do it today. And since I have sweet fuck all to write about, I thought I might share a bit of the sensations.

First off, I'm holding up one of my more aggressive vibrators to my nipples. I can't use this one on my clit most days; too sensitive. But it's working just fine on the girls. I like how the vibration jars the nerve endings in the nipple itself, but carries on into the breast and even into the ribs. It's like a combination of nipple play and a massage, both of which I enjoy individually. I could use a massage. Yeah, this is probably going to be a bit stream-of-consciousness-y, so if that bothers you, better leave now.

I should explain that I'm typing as I go, but not necessarily as it happens; I can't type particularly well with one hand at the best of times. So I'm typing and playing and typing and playing, and then I'll probably edit a bit to catch typos and totally off-the-wall shit. I'm not used to doing this. We'll see how it goes.

Sometimes I use oil with vibes on my nipples. It doesn't really improve the sensation of the vibe, but it improves the sensation of moving the vibe all around. Today though, I'm just sticking with the plain vibe. I don't really want to clean up after, not too much. There's a bit more abrasion this way, so I don't move as often, but I can put the vibe on the underside of the nipple and kind of roll it around.

But enough of foreplay. I also brought my newest buttplug, which I bought the last time I really, really wished I had a cock to fuck my ass. Sometime last year, I believe. I'd never owned a glass plug before. The trick, I find, is to warm it up first; it gets fucking cold in the winter, and cold glass in the derrière is only fun if you're into that kind of thing. A few times it's been borderline and I've been in a hurry, so I've just stuck it in and felt the slow warming sensation, but today, too damn cold. I ran it under scalding hot water for a while until it warmed up.

Okay, here goes. It's not huge; I don't really believe in giant toys in the back door. It gets a little thicker than your average cock right before the dip at the base, which feels just... no, wait, getting ahead of myself. A little lube on it; I'm using extra-virgin olive oil, actually. I know, I know, but I like it for various reasons. Your mileage my vary. Anyway, the sheen of just a little oil on the purple glass (yeah, I like purple) is very pretty, but I won't be looking at it long.

I can type while sitting back on it. I'm teasing myself a little, sitting down on it so it pops in but only the top, then backing off. It's not like a cock at all, but it's a wonderful sensation nonetheless, and if you've been looking to try out anal (boys or girls) I recommend toys as a starting point highly. The spreading of my ass cheeks is a fun sensation too, which you don't usually get with a cock, since aim is important there.

Okay, like I was saying, the widest part is just wider than your average cock, and there's this great moment of tension as I get right up to it, like I'm not going to make it all the way. I love that about a plug like this; I know I can take it, but there's still that delicious moment where I feel like, "Oh shit, I'm going too far." And then the release as the whole thing pops in and the base is pressing against my butt, the wide part still stretching but inside now. I'm just going to sit for a few minutes and enjoy the full feeling. Maybe trying adjusting my posture a little so different areas take pressure. Sitting on a rigid plug, as opposed to a softer one, is harder; there's a lot more pressure.

I can feel a little spasm in my ass. Wondering if maybe I shouldn't have gone so ambitious. It's been longer than I wanted since I had something in my ass, and maybe I should have worked back into rhythm. I'm just going to take it slow and let it in for a while. I'm actually kind of thrilled; shows my ass is still tight. I try to keep trim. Anal is great, but you do have to be careful otherwise you'll wind up carrying a colostomy bag. That, at any rate, is what the naysayers are fond of saying, and there's a small part of my brain which listens. I don't know; I've never had any trouble, but maybe there's truth to it and I've been lucky.

Okay, my pussy is positively dripping, and having to break off to write is just winding me up mercilessly. I think before I try anything fancy, I'm going to get myself off. Excuse me for a moment.

That was nice. A simple one, just fingers on my joy buzzer, but with the added tightness of the plug the sensations were brought to the fore. The spasm came back in my ass as I came, and I felt a bit like I was going to somehow defy physics and anatomy and shoot the plug out of my ass, through the chair, and shatter it in a million pieces on the floor. I believe the term of art is peristalsis, but whatever it was, it was fighting all the way, and while at first for the newcomer that might sound unpleasant (and indeed until you get the hang of it it probably is unpleasant) I enjoy it immensely. Cumming with anal penetration is the next step up from just anal; some people never get any of it, and some people never experience the orgasm in their asses, but lucky me I guess.

I believe I may have whimpered a bit too, if that's your bag. I'm usually not terribly vocal during masturbation, but I was just so keyed up. Not the most intense orgasm ever, but perfectly decent. I'm terrible at describing the actual physical sensation of orgasm; this one was mostly in my belly and hips; it didn't shoot up my spine or down my legs, which sometimes happens. I don't think any of these things really happen, of course, but the feelings do.

Okay, having stabilized and still wanting more, time to pull out the big guns. I've got my favorite black dildo, 10 inches but not too wide, and I'm going to spread my legs a bit and feed him into my pussy and see what happens. He's not anatomical, really; basically just a shaft with the indication of a head. Quite firm, and ten inches is really false advertising because you have to use the bottom two or so as a handle. But anyway, I don't really want to be stuffed. I'm just looking for something inside me.

Latex or rubber or whatever it is doesn't feel like flesh. For one thing, I find that I need lube with toys more than I do with cocks. In this case though, personal production was more than sufficient. I am not now nor have I ever been a squirter, but I can ruin sheets. I just rubbed him around, got his head all nice and juicy, and now he's a few inches in. Dildos really don't give me the sensation of penetration that I crave; if they did... well, maybe nothing would change, but on the other hand I might just become a lesbian, because if I could get from rubber what I want from a cock... but the point is moot, since I can't. I feel full, but the feeling isn't connected to anything, and the warmth and give is different. I would imagine that fake pussies probably feel the same way to guys. Sure, it can get you off, but it's not the same. Maybe not.

Okay, I'm twisting him in. I like to do that sometimes, and it's something that's hard to do with a cock. I can really do it with my corkscrew dildo (and here as well) but as I mention in those posts, it's hard to do that to myself. This way I just ease in while twisting, which produces a nice tension in all directions. If you've never turned a dildo (it's got to be large enough for you to feel it) while inserting, I recommend trying it. I enjoy it, and if someone would invent a way for sex to take place while rotating... no, wait, I think someone has, and it looks damned uncomfortable.

Anyway, I've got the dildo in as far as I'm interested in going this evening, and the pressure between dildo and plug is very nice. I had another tickle of an O on the way to full insertion; it was really just a shiver, maybe not even what some people would qualify as an orgasm. But if a sudden shiver comes straight out of my cunt while I'm doing things like this, I'll qualify it. What the Hell; it's not like it's the only O I ever have.

And now, for the coup de grace, a very, very gentle vibe egg, which I will be holding on my clit. And what the Hell, mess be damned, I'm going to lube up a bit. I like this vibe for this purpose because it doesn't seem to stay in one place. It's somewhat slower and feels like a tongue moving around on my clit, rather than a jackhammer trying to bore into my pelvis. Not that it's better than a tongue, but for the solo, it'll suffice. A little oil, careful not to get too messy, and now...

There follows a short interval of purring noises, punctuated by sharp gasps.

I really, really wish I could wire my brain up so you could feel what I just felt, because it was very nice and difficult to describe. It felt like the orgasm, when it came, was actually originating from between my pussy and ass, which, as I've mentioned numerous times, is a real erogenous zone for me. DP doesn't always give me an O like that, but combining DP and clit stim (which is harder than it should be when the DP is cocks rather than toys) seems to be a good way to attempt it.

I'm glad now I put down a towel. I would have ruined the computer chair, or at least had to mop up. Again, had Sveta undergone what I just did, she would have been gushing. Me, I... well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I think I drool a bit. Not when being fucked though; the in-out of a cock keeps the drool down. But when there's no movement to the penetration, it's a bit like holding something tasty between your teeth.

I could continue, and probably will, but I can't continue typing at the same time. I'd like to try to have another in a more private setting, with more comfort involved. So I'm calling a halt to this little experiential experiment and heading to more comfortable surroundings. Hope you enjoyed the attempt, and if you've got any suggestions, let me know.

Flash Fiction Friday - Clean

She stood above him, looking down at his naked body in the water with an expression that bespoke either panic or eagerness. "Are you sure?" he asked warily.

"Yes. Yes I am." And she removed her clothing quickly, as if jumping into very cold water. It was tough, she knew, but the decision had to be made.

Soon he was enveloped in warmth as she slipped down over him, the warmth of her body making the water seem chilled. She rocked on him, causing waves, splashes of moisture running down her hips. She smiled, eyes wide with pleasure. "I told you the tub was big enough for two. Let's buy this model." The salesman nodded and rang them up.

---

He had come back to her broken and bleeding and clinging to life. Even after convalescing he still wasn't whole, the injuries sapping his strength, scarring him where she could not reach to heal. She was a nurse, a healer, yet he seemed beyond her abilities.

Each day she bathed him, gently washing the body that seemed healed and yet was not. Each day she kissed each puckered scar she could find, cursed herself for being unable to kiss them all. Each day he grew more distant. Each day she grew more desperate.

Enveloped in warmth, she held him close and prayed, but he had never really left. He was still there on the field where he had fallen.

---

Two of radically different tones this week. The first because I don't think you should have to buy things without trying them out first. The second because I got all morbid and depressed-like.

Not much to talk about in the first one. I just liked the idea. I think housewares stores should employ models to fuck in their bathtubs and showers, just to demonstrate. I know I'd enjoy going into stores like that even more if they did; I could stop in for lumber and catch a quick show. Yes, I spend a fair amount of time in Home Depot and such. And I like tools. Not very girly, I know.

The second... well, it doesn't match the picture particularly well, actually, since the folks in the picture seem to be having a good time. Maybe it's a memory of happier times. If I'd had more space, I could have better incorporated it, perhaps. As it is, I ran out before I even could incorporate a reduced version, so basically you get 119 words which start something, or perhaps end something. I have nothing but respect and sympathy for people who can have loved ones come back from war or accident injured in a way which changes them, not just physically, and yet can go on loving, go on being supportive, just go on. It's not about soldiers; it's about dealing with trauma whatever the cause. I don't know that I'd have the strength. I hope I never have to find out, honestly.

Anyway, I wasn't sure I'd have the mental capacity to write much of anything this week, because my brain is mush, so if these are kind of mushy, that's why. Stop by Flash Fiction Friday and contribute your own mush or at least read the other ones, since they'll doubtless be excellent. I'll make rounds at some point myself. Let's hope for lots of wet sex, because bathtub sex is good sex.

TMI Too Late

It's Wednesday now, or thereabouts, so I'm late, but I don't care. I tracked down what I believe to be the origin of this particular series of questions, but Max and Lola were where I saw it first, and I thought, what the hell, I've answered strange questions for less. I'm not really playing, just stealing; maybe next week I'll play and not lurk. Who knows. There's a limit to the amount of rounds-making I can do.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?

I have no idea. I don't look in the mirror that often. I know, it seems odd, but I don't. Probably, "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?" or possible, "Damn, still not the fairest of them all." Okay, kidding. Seriously, probably, "Mgmfbgm." Or, "Blargle." It would have been in the morning.

2. If you could take a class for fun right now, what would you take?

Russian. I am trying to learn the language, but a class might help. Of course, I just don't have the time to learn it whether in class or not, and my memorization has suffered recently. It's a beautiful language, and I currently speak just enough to inform people that I speak very poorly and they should probably treat me like an idiot child. That's something, I guess.

3. What did the last text message you received on your mobile/cell phone say?

Done this one before. I do not text, for I have no way of so doing.

4. What was the last song you listened to?

No idea. Something on the radio of which I don't know the name or the artist. Obviously it didn't stick with me.

5. What was the last song you sang or hummed (cuz it's stuck in your head)?

The last song I sang was an old spiritual because that's how weird I am; I wander around work singing spirituals. In my head, I currently have a really tedious Green Day song about knowing your enemy on continuous loop. I don't know where it came from, and I hope it goes back there sharpish. Ooh, it's the all-Green-Day medley now: I wanna be a minority and know my enemy on holiday from the boulevard of broken dreams, and I'm hitching a ride to paradise. How alarming is it that I was able to spit out that series of things without really even thinking about it. I don't even like Green Day.

6. First thing you wash in the shower?

I generally begin with my hair so the shampoo has as long as possible to stay in. Sometimes I even leave off rinsing it out until after I've shaved. The longer the better.

7. When was the last time you masturbated in the shower?

Not this morning, but recently. It depends on the amount of time I have. I like fingering myself in the warmth when my morning hasn't gotten off to a good start, but that's usually when I don't have the time to do it. I don't usually spend a whole lot of time on it, but a quickie O is still an O. It gets the blood flowing. That's, of course, when I don't have someone with whom to shower.

8. What color is your couch?

We have several. They're all patterned. No leather; leather sticks to skin. I don't care how often I hear it; I never believe people when they say they enjoyed fucking on a leather couch. Sticky leather combined with warm bodies... yuck. We put things over the upholstery anyway because we don't want to damage it.

9. Have you had sex on your couch?

As if the previous answer didn't let on, yes, all the damn time. We have to clean our throws regularly.

Non-Sexy Time

Perhaps you're wondering why meaningful updates have gone out the window. Perhaps you're sitting there thinking to yourself, "Jeez Louise, if I had the exciting life that Lexi seems to have, I'd have so many blog posts to make that I'd have to limit myself to three or four a day, just so I'd have the time to fit in some of that excitement. What the hell is wrong with that girl? She should be posting more."

Perhaps not.

Either way, things wax and wane for me as for everyone else, and occasionally there are periods where either nothing is happening worth reporting, or nothing is happening at all, or too much is happening, or too much not worth reporting is happening to give me time to report anything that was worth reporting, or tragical historical pastoral comical. Speak the speech, I pray you, like a dead ox that hath lain too long i' the sun.

Wait, hang on a minute. Get out of here, you Shakespearian thespians! Go on, scat! You're not even saying the lines right!

Okay, there we go. Anyway, at the moment I am hard up for time and for things to talk about, not necessarily in that order. The time can be explained by work, and the things to talk about can be explained in a slightly longer manner, and it's gotten to the point where it needs to be explained because otherwise it just seems like I'm holding back vital information when really I'm not.

I am not getting my regular sex. Or even much irregular. This is due to a condition which can be most accurately described as paternal inability and fraternal unavailability. Accurate, but not helpful. I don't really want to talk about it overly much, but in fairness I must.

My dad had a health issue last month, the culmination of a number of things, which has left him sadly unable to do much by way of erection. We're hopeful that, with treatment and practice, this situation will improve, but at the moment he's out of action, and unfortunately medication is not an option. It's a circulatory thing. Don't ask me; I'm not a doctor. Anyway, just to prove to all the doubters out there, I love him just as much if not more, and should the horrible possibility happen and he never be able to regain his vigor, I wouldn't stop loving him. We have tender moments, and in the spirit of recuperation both Mom and I have engaged in spirited attempts at revivification of the flaccid, but thus far while he's been able to achieve momentary stiffness, of the half-staff nature, nothing which could be maintained. It seems like it's getting better though.

My family's bond doesn't depend on sex, but sex strengthens it I think, so we've been a bit testy at times. Dad feels like he's letting me down, which I try to tell him he's not, but to tell the honest truth (and why not) I really, really miss having him inside me, to the point where I do feel a bit let down, even if I don't blame him for it. I'm not perfect.

This is not me being sob-y at all either; he recovered from his medical complications, and at the moment there's no reason to believe that he won't recover his former mojo. He's not in danger. We're happy to have him here. And it does mean that I've been getting a lot more from him in an odd way; it used to be that once a day would be the limit, but now that it's mostly about me (and I feel selfish about that) I've been getting shorter encounters at an increased rate. I spend a bit of time doing my best to liven him up, but I think the lack of ability is really driving him as nuts as it's driving me; it's hard to go from once a day to nothing at all, and my father is a man who enjoys sex a lot.

So I've been getting plenty of orgasms. Dad is really getting back into eating me out, something which we almost never bothered with much before; he lasts so long typically that I just want to spend as much time as possible being penetrated, without worrying that I won't get mine. I always get mine. Now, he's falling back in love with my taste and smell, or so he says. There have been a few days, lucky days when no one had to be anywhere (something that seems not to happen all that often these days) when Mom would work on his cock while he ate me out until I was gasping for air.

But despite having plenty of orgasms and plenty of what could definitely be called sex, I miss penetration. I'm just a gal who needs to be filled with a cock, often. I think the last time I had a cock was when I visited Sveta in college. Oh lord, and don't get me started on Sveta; Dad is really worried that she'll freak out about this, even though she knows and hasn't freaked out yet. I don't know why she would. But I think Dad's just projecting his anxiety or something.

Anyway, as horrible and selfish as it is of me, I need penetration. I can get by with just orgasms, but at a certain point my brain begins to deteriorate. So right now I'm engaged in an experiment to see if I can deal with months of no penetration. I can do it for anal, and have, but none at all will be tough.

I'm really not telling you all any of this for sympathy purposes; it just has gotten to the point where I really needed to clear up the situation so I'd stop hinting obliquely at it. Dad is fine, I'm fine (if a bit cock-crazier than usual), and I am confident that things will return to, if not normal, at least close enough to pass muster without worrying. These things happen. I know I'm not the only one, and I know people who suffer from various forms of impotence (or whatever the correct term is; like I said, not a doctor) who manage to deal with it. It's life. Just thought you should know.

While I'm giving status updates, to save from having to make another filler post of status:

Mike is working at some menial job he hates and can't get time off from, but it's better than nothing. Last I heard, he was trying to nail a waitress. I had hoped to see him over Easter because that was my closest hope for someone with a cock who knows how to use it, but I'm not hoping much because it doesn't seem likely.

Sveta, on the other hand, will doubtless be here for some kind of spring break, Easter or not. I told her, as a joke, that she should bring Ernst and they could both stay at my house. She laughed. To tell the truth, I'd rather she didn't; despite needing a hot beef injection, I'd rather have some alone time with her. Talking would be nice, as would other things we do when alone.

Sheri is being an idiot. I'm currently in a drawn-out cold war with her. I love her, but sometimes she drives me nuts. I won't go into it; too much drama already in this post. The one positive is that makeup sex is always nice.

Mari is really hoping that more states will pass gay marriage bills, as should we all, but she has a more immediate reason for hoping. She refuses to take sides in the cold war. Thus, I hate her too. No, only kidding. I just treat her like Switzerland and try to get her to give me gold.

The blog is coming up on the anniversary again, and I have something a little exciting planned, nothing major. The banner appears to be coming down 2:1 in favor of the skinnier banner; keep voting, although while I probably shouldn't tell you this I've already made up my mind, unless there's a huge groundswell for one option or the other.

I'm still not doing Formspring, mostly because they won't let you ask the right questions. But I still love questions, and you can always either comment (even off-topic; I'm not a topic-Nazi) or email me at lexinaughtygirly[AT]gmail.com if you've got one. Or if you've got quizzes. Or memes in general. I promise nothing, but I love fodder.

And lastly, I'm coming up on crazy time again at work, so if posts become slightly more scarce, I'm not throwing in the towel, I've just got a show to do. With partial nudity. Hooray!

Something Nice

I am really, really tired; work took it out of me today. But I had to drop in for a short little post.

I got an email the other day from a nice gal representing EdenFantasys.com, purveyors of many exciting sex toys and supplies. I'm sure many of you have heard of them. Anyway, she was asking if I'd like to be a reviewer. I know it's not a big deal at all; I believe Sephi has reviewed some toys of theirs, as probably have other bloggers. But it tickled me because no one has ever asked me before.

Because I have a policy about connecting my real self to this blog which involves not giving out my address, no matter how nice the offer (oh, but the temptation), I had to decline, but I felt like she was nice enough about it that it was worth mentioning, because hey, they asked little ol' me to review a sex toy. With my tiny readership (I love you all, and if you were legion I don't know that I could love each and every one of you as effectively), I'm not sure I'm the best bet as far as marketing is concerned, but still, I was touched. So, EdenFantasys.com, consider yourself on my good list, and consider yourself pimped.

I feel so famous. Like I'm some kind of celebrity trendsetter. Go out and buy ben wa balls, my minions!

Flash Fiction Friday - Crack

Position #359: The Sharp Crack

Next time you're looking for adventure, why not find an abandoned industrial park with your man. Have him wrap his legs around a pole, then sit on his chest until he begs for mercy.

Warning: Do not attempt if your man has back problems or a history of brittle bones.

---

She was there with him, like she promised she wouldn't be. They weren't parking cars or dressed as valets. The hotel had gone out of business years ago.

As she straddled his chest and inched her silk-clad cunt down to his ugly face, I heard a sharp crack. Not his spine; no, I wasn't that lucky. My heart was breaking.

---

I could hear a sharp crack as the tattered flag above me whipped in the wind. I had to restrain my trained instinct to turn, look for the muzzle flash. My focus was on him.

"Where is Chernyakov?" I asked again, putting more weight against his bruised chest, tugging the rope around his neck. "Tell me, or I break you."

He talked. They always do, given enough leverage.

---

I could probably go on. With pieces this short, it feels almost like cheating not to do at least three. But in the end, three is what we have, because I'm out of ideas and I'm too busy to think too long on this.

I don't even really count the first; it was just the immediate response. I can see some women's magazine running out of Kama Sutra positions to do and moving on to esoterica. Along with "The Sharp Crack," in the advanced class we'll cover:

• The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
• The Creutzfeldt-Jakob Syndrome
• The Mighty Joe Young
• The Internal Combustion Engine
• The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
• The Running of the Bulls
• The Chinese Fire Drill
• The Spinster Aunt
• The DEFCON 1

And perhaps most devastating of all:

• Captain Lumpy's Fun-Time Parade

I urge you not to try any of these positions without consulting your physician. They can be fun but they can also be deadly.

Enough of this gay banter. The second isn't my best work; if you're terribly confused by it, I'm sorry. The third was more fun, although I wish I had enough space to figure out why she's looking for Chernyakov wearing that outfit. Maybe she's a spy disguised as a prostitute. I don't know.

I'm a really, really glad I don't have to host Flash Fiction Friday this week because PB is much better at it than I am. Hope everyone who played had fun last week and didn't miss him too terribly, but now that he's back, if you're not playing this week, why the Hell not? I mean, did we offend you in some way? Don't you like writing short, sexy stories? What's wrong with you? Go! Now! I won't take no for an answer.

Way Too Much Tuesday

There hasn't been a meme or quiz or anything really that I've felt at all interested in taking for a long time, so I've been pretty filler-less for a while. But I was thinking about giving too much information recently, and I realized that, let's face it, most of the information I give out would be entirely too much information for most people. And yet it's a normal day on the blog for me.

So I thought instead I might talk about some elephants in the room. Things that don't get discussed, even on blogs about things that don't get discussed. We're not talking about delving deep into my psyche or anything either. We're talking about topics that might be too much, even for me. You've been warned. I have no idea where this is going, and the train will doubtless jump the track and kill innocent bystanders

1) Once, with a guy I was crazy about but had never been with, things were moving satisfactorily toward the expected intercourse of two humans naked, and he was hard and I was wet and everything was just super terrific, and he got me on my hands and knees, his hand on the small of my back as he guided his cock into my pussy, and just as he slipped into me, like I was some kind of slide whistle, I let out this enormous, brain-crushing fart. If it had been a cartoon the timing couldn't have been more perfect (and for perfect, read horrible); had I not known better, I would have sworn that his penetration caused the fart. For a second nobody moved. I think he thought, for an instant, that it had been a monster queef or something. Then the smell. It was horrible, that smell. How cute little me could have produced such a terrifying smell is a mystery.

In that situation, what do you do? Had it been different circumstances, say with Mike or someone with whom I was comfortable, it might have been a moment of high comedy for both of us, leading to joking and then back to sex. As it was, he caught a whiff of the reek and it was like his cock had suddenly been popped. I've never had a cock go from rock-hard to flaccid so fast in my life, particularly not while still inside me (it was, on examination, a very interesting sensation, one which I wish I could replicate only in reverse). I had no idea what to do, which is why I sat there, naked, my ass in the air like I was hoping for an encore, while he pulled his clothes on as fast as he could and vacated my life forthwith. Just sat there, ass up. Couldn't do anything else.

Looking back on it now, it's funny as hell. I wish I had video. It was such a perfect storm of awful that there's really nothing to do but laugh at it. I wasn't gassy, so it wasn't like I should have been aware of the danger. I've rarely been so loud in my life. And it had never happened before and has never happened since. I've had some noises during an enthusiastic thrust, but nothing like that.

Too much?

2) Sheri and I went through a prank war in high school. It began, I believe, when I got fed up with something she was doing and threw my drink at her (not the glass; I just tossed the drink over her). It was supremely amusing to me; one minute she was doing whatever it was (I've honestly forgotten) and then the next she was standing there, dripping and glaring. Totally unexpected. I had no cause to do it either, but at least it wasn't premeditated.

She got me back by putting white pepper on one of my tampons. Kids, do not, I repeat, do not do that to anyone. It's evil. Pepper's active ingredient reacts unpleasantly with mucous membranes of any kind. Seriously, I am not recommending this as a prank tongue-in-cheek; it's probably dangerous and at the very least not nice at all. I'm not blaming Sheri or anything, but it was a stupid thing for her to do. Fortunately it became apparent that something was wrong before anything went too wrong, but I was sore for a while.

I retaliated by filling her shoes with mayonnaise. All of them. Not completely, but in the toes, where she wouldn't figure it out until she put them on. Which she did. And screamed. It was pretty funny, though perhaps not as funny as watching me running around the house naked with a tampon waving around in my hands, blood dripping down my leg because damn it I'd needed that tampon. I can look back on it now and laugh. At the time, mayonnaise in her shoes seemed light punishment.

Things went quiet for a while, and though I was a bit suspicious, Sheri seemed to have made peace. Then, the night before she knew I had a big date (I say this in hindsight; at the time it wasn't so obvious) she started getting amorous. We got to the point where I was bent over the bed with her running a dildo in and out of my pussy, when she started to do something with my ass too. It felt like she was squeezing some liquid into my ass, and when I turned around to see what was up, she grinned and said, "Don't stand up or you'll make a mess." When I asked her what the Hell she meant, she replied that she'd just filled my ass with green dye, and unless I wanted to ruin the floor and make things even worse, she'd advise me to keep tight.

Then she started teasing me again, until I was sure that dye was probably leaking all over me, then she ran off, giggling. And I was stuck. I eventually ascertained that I wasn't making a mess of the floor, so I crawled to the bathroom and managed to evacuate without too much difficulty. It was only when I examined myself that I realized the true fiendishness of the plan, because this was definitely permanent green dye, food-safe or not, and thus I looked like I'd just taken a cumshot from the Incredible Hulk. Try as a might, I couldn't get my genitals de-greened, so I had to go on a date with a guy I really wanted to let into my panties, but not let him into my panties because I was mortified he'd think I had some horrible disease. I couldn't even let him get me down to my panties because the green spot was too large to be concealed by even enormous granny panties. I came home, fuming, to find that Sheri had left a shamrock on my pillow. I suppose this part of the story would be more appropriate for St. Patrick's Day.

Let's see, what else?

3) I used creamy peanut butter as anal lube once. It wasn't all that satisfactory. But then it wasn't my ass. It was his. It worked, but I don't think it was terribly good lube because even creamy peanut butter has tiny chunks in it. Still, it got my fingers in. And he came buckets in my mouth, all of which tasted like peanut butter, not because of some miraculous transfer of taste by marinating his prostate or something, but because everything smelled like peanut butter.

The next day, I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, open face, and jacked him off onto it, then ate it. It wasn't that either of us were peanut butter fetishists; the lube idea had been because we had nothing else, and the sandwich was in reference to the lube and because I thought it would taste good. It did, actually. I keep meaning to try it again, except I don't usually waste semen on sandwiches.

4) I once walked in on a man having sex with a pork roast. Raw. He tried to explain; I told him that while I was an open-minded girl and didn't mind many things, if he was going to put his cock near raw meat, it wasn't going anywhere near me. The thing was, I didn't mean it judgmentally. I'm slightly, just slightly, bacteriophobic about raw meat. If there had been some way for him to guarantee that icky wasn't going to transfer from the raw meat to his meat, I would have been perfectly fine with it. I think he'd been expecting that I wouldn't mind; he didn't stop when I came in until I said something which indicated that I wasn't pleased. Really, it was more that a guy who'd do that probably would do other things I didn't want to get into. Also, why the hell was he having sex with a pork roast when he could have been having sex with me? It wasn't like I was playing hard to get at that point. Anyway, I guess my point is that I would be happy to let a guy with whom I was currently fucking have sex with an irradiated pork roast, since that wouldn't be a bacterial hazard.

Yeah. I hear bread dough and warmed-up watermelons are good too. Really, men need to get on the sex toy boat. I have a giant collection of various "marital aids" and that doesn't mean I'm a loser or can't get laid or prefer sex with a toy to sex with another person. So why is it that men can't keep sex toys too? Why do they have to go looking for strange simulacra when they could just buy a nice Fleshlight or something, just as a masturbatory aid. Masturbation is not only natural, it's fun, healthy, and keeps one occupied between bouts with a partner. Men need to stop having to fuck raw meat. Okay, no other man I know will admit to having fucked raw meat, but still, it's the principle of the thing. There, that's one elephant in the room down.

Anyway, the point of this story is that I was turned on by watching him. Even as I told him that I didn't approve, I got wet. I really wanted to watch him some more, watch him fill that pork loin with cum, then maybe bake it. I wouldn't have let him go near me, no matter how aroused I became, but I was aroused nonetheless by something I find, cerebrally, disgusting. Perhaps I have a culinary fetish after all, given the previous two stories.

5) I once became so desperate that I sought out a public restroom for the purposes of a little manual stimulation. Nothing odd about that (okay, not for me). But this restroom was filthy. It smelled awful, the floor was awash in dirty water, and the toilet seat was covered in things at which I didn't take too close a look because I didn't really want to know. There was no door on the stall. And yet I found two dry spots on the floor, closed my eyes to block out the sights, held my breath as much as possible to block out the smell, and reached my hand into my pants and got myself off despite the horrible surroundings. Seriously, I was just too desperate to do anything else. And there was nowhere else I could go. I felt like vomiting a little, but I got the job done and then beat it out of that bathroom like a bat out of Hell.

I'm sure that, given time, I could come up with further horror stories or tales of my own embarrassment. When one has experience, some of it is going to be bad. I felt like sharing way too much information today, just to prove that it can be done.