Well, as many of you know I am going to school to become a high school history teacher and in holding with the requirements of the University all Educaion Majors must do so many hours of field experience (this is when you go to different schools and basicly become the teacher's 'lil bitch copying papers, doing cut-outs.....bitch work)
The upside to this is, on Friday, which was my frist day doing it, I got to meet some of the parents of the student's and WOOOOoooowww let me tell ya.....this one kids"s dad was surfer-model-hot, an older guy just like I like um and a wedding band ....I have a thing for forbidden fruit...as were his two brothers, uncles to the lil brat, that i suppose came to the school just to tag along. AND being that we are having still a never-ending summer here in Texas, there were tank tops and a lot of exposed glistening wet muscles.
Now, I'm not saying I had any hot father (or uncle) fucking fantasies (ok...maybe just for a moment....or a couple of hours.... different story for another day) but I definitely recongized them for what they are:
FILF. Every one of em
Hmmm and i must admit....even some of those barely legal High school seniors could even fall under a new catergory ... JILF (Jailbait I'd Like to Fuck), that didn't stop me from admiring and and cumming home, grabbing an ear of corn from the 'fridge , fucking myself and squirting and flooding my sheets .
Whew!!!!
SO guys and girls out there....could you tell me about your MILF and FILF experiences???
My bestfriend and I just got back to my place from campus. As I was carrying a twenty five pound bag of stuff in one hand and a whole pile of shit in the other, my friend suddenly groaned and smacked his hand to his head dramatically. He is SUCH a thespian. Don't know where he gets it. *cough*
I looked at him with my armfuls of shoulder wrenching crapola and said, "What is it?" He told me, "I just thought of this awful joke my friend told me to tell you today." We kept walking towards the door and I said, "What is it?" He looked at me oddly and said, "You're supposed to look down your shirt and spell the word 'attic'". Then he waited, expectantly. So, like a dumbass I look down my shirt and I said, "A-T-T-I-C?" He just looked at me, waiting for the punchline to hit me. I spelled it again. It was so stupid I actually had to stop on the sidewalk and say, "Tell your friend he's a R-E-T-A-R-D. A-T-T-I-C does NOT sounds like, 'A titty I see.' Does 'tee tee' sound like 'titty'? Really? Come on. What an asshat."
My friend just kept looking at me, waiting for me to eventually express my shock that some guy had came up with a joke involving my titties. Instead I just reiterated, "Really. Tell him he's a retard. Anyone who can enunciate their letters would think that was stupid." As it is, I enunciate mmmm ok considering all...hehe, despite having lived for 18 years in the heart of Texas. I did pick up one hell of a twang, but seemed to have lost it as soon as I moved to campus here in the boonies. Besides, I had a lot of vocal training with one very serious choir teacher when I was young. She would hound on us while pounding her fist on the top of the piano, "YOU ARE NOT A YAM!" anytime anyone pronounced "I am" as "Iyam".
I plan to go on campus later today, find this dork of a guy and look down my shirt, pull out my tits and say, "Oh look! Tee-tees!" and then grab him and shake him while shouting, "YOU ARE NOT A YAM!" The point would be lost on him, but it would make ME feel better.
Ugh. What a stupid joke.
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My pussy has been an insistent little bitch lately.
"Play with me!"
"Make him fuck me!"
"Touch me!"
"Let's hump something!"
Yesterday I took a morning nap and woke up to this whining persistent need between my legs.
"But I have stuff to DO!" I argued, hopelessly.
My pussy just throbbed some more.
"It's IMPORTANT stuff!" I stated, pointlessly.
"Touch me," it said.
I touched it. If a pussy could sigh, I swear mine did. "FINE FINE FINE!" I said, "You demanding cunt! That's it!"
I finger-fucked myself until the damn thing made me scream and it shut the fuck up for awhile.
I mean, FUCK. I've got stuff to do, you know?
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What amuses me is how men worry about size. Let me tell you, I've had both rather small (he hit the G spot with perfection) and very large.
There is such a thing as too large. Oh, yes indeed.
That boyfriend, we'll call D.G. (short for Dear God You've Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me That Thing Won't Fit Inside Me!) D.G. was big.
Way too big.
First, let me state that I was a mere eightteen years old, senior in high school. He was...maybe 26-ish? I liked dating older guys. They had intelligent things to say, unlike the guys my age.
The first time D.G. and I got it on, I was shocked at the size of his dick. I was experienced but,that thing looked more like a weapon than a penis.
D.G. was a strange character, living with his parents, growing magic mushrooms in his room (told his parents they were some other kind of very valuable fungus, you know, trying to start his own business, HA!).
His parents were really weird, specifically his mom. She loved Disney movies, everything Disney. When you are a 5 year old girl, that's adorable. When you're a middle aged woman, that's bordering on schizophrenic. And she could have been the fucking poster child for multiple personalities.
I heard D.G. get in arguments with her a few times (while I was literally hiding in his closet). She was the most vile, foul mouthed nightmare I have possibly ever met. I met her face to face only once. She was a sweet as Cinderella to me. But when she didn't know I was there, she would tell D.G. the most awful things, screaming at the top of her banshee-like lungs.
Once we stopped at his house to grab something while both his parents were at work, and I saw the note she left D.G. on the fridge. It said something about "don't forget blah-blah and don't let that two bit whore in my house." (That would be me, of course.) He just looked at it and handed it to me. "Would you like to leave her a message?" he blandly asked. "Sure!" I brightly replied, and wrote something about wiping myself all over her furniture, or something like that. Maybe something about how I had sex with her son on the kitchen counter. I forget, but it was nasty. It was worth payback, whatever it was. Two faced people piss me off. If you don't like me, just say so. Don't bother with all the niceties, just to call me a whore when I'm not around.
Whew!
The times we did have sex were not enjoyable. I don't know if poor D.G. ever got to finish. It took him forever to just fit the damn thing inside me, much less get to move it at all. Fucking A- it just wasn't working. I usually made him stop.
He would plead, "But you'll get used to it eventually! Your body will stretch!"
I didn't have the heart to tell him I didn't WANT to get used to it. It was too damn big , no bull shit, it had to be atleast 14in, if not bigger and insanely thick. And at that age I went through boyfriends like toilet paper. The fact was, I knew we wouldn't be together long, and I was afraid he would stretch me to the point that I would be ruined for any other man. I liked being tight. I did not want to be loose!
He understood, but still lamented. He sighed and told me he couldn't keep a girlfriend because of the size of his dick.
No shit.
I believed him. Honestly, the only thing I could think of him using that cock for was to either do porn or to have sex with women who had just recently had babies. At least they would be stretched enough to enjoy him. But me, no thanks.
I broke it off with him, tight pussy intact, and was greatly relieved. I do wonder, though, what became of him. Did he ever find a girl willing to accommodate him? If he did , there is no way a normal guy can fuck her . it would be like throwing a hotdog down a hall-way.!!!
There is nothing in this world quit like the feeling of cumming all over the place....*stops and wipes pussy cum off of the keyboard* ... and being that I am a BIG advocate of self pleasure , and also knowing that there is nothing like being able to bring yourself to such an intense feeling , I decided to write this blog.
For those guys out there who are a little creative and want to give "thumb-a-lina and her four sister" (your hand...lol) a rest and want to experiment while enjoying your fav. girltime model...here's to you!!!
... I have learned about many of these "toy" from my friends here at school, read about some on them on the net, books, ex-boyfriends and even been told about some of them from some of my playmates here on Girltime!!!
Here are a few of the Favs I have came across ....
Sock 'Em
Step 1: Roll up a sock
Take a sock and roll it up like a donut.
Step 2: Put in a surgical glove
Put a latex surgical glove in the rolled up sock. Wrap the end of the glove over the top of the sock to hold it in place. Lube up the inside.
Step 3: Ahhhhh!
Strap-on and go at it. You can also put it between two pillows or between your mattress and your box spring, and pump away.
Bubble Wrap
Step 1: Roll up some bubble wrap
Roll bubble wrap into a cylinder with a hole about the size of your dick. Roll it with the bubbles inside.
Step 2: Put a towel around it
Put a folded towel around it the bubble wrap to create a masturbation sleeve.
Step 3: Lube and enjoy
Squirt baby oil inside and enjoy
Sponge Off
Step 1: Wring out two sponges
Wet two sponges with hot water and wring them out.
Step 2: Put them in a large cup
Put them in a plastic juice cup and put lube in between. Make sure to use an unbreakable plastic cup.
Step 3: Nice fit
Enjoy! The sponges will conform to the size of your dick, making for a nice tight fit, a beautiful fake pussy.
..... because if how you guys are "Shaped" down there, it must be easy as hell to masterbate just about ANYWHERE...
Last week I was driving down the road, and noticed my pants felt uncomfortably tight. Then I noticed ALL of my clothes felt uncomfortably tight, and that I was starting to grind a little against the hem of my shorts, the hem that conveniantly lines up with my clit.
I guess there is some payoff in life for the cruelty of bras...
I decided I simply couldn't wait till I got home. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even wait till I got to a more secluded road. I was stuck in traffic, and just whipped off my sweatshirt and laid it in my lap. Subtle? No.
I unzipped my shorts, pushed my panties to the side and starting rubbing my clit, right there at the light, people in cars all around me. I managed to keep a straight face and not wiggle, but just kept rubbing myself all the time.NOT AN EASY TASK...damn cunt..
I imagined that there were men in the cars around me, who knew what I was doing, who knew what a dirty little girl I really am. And maybe they did. Maybe they had their thumb on the tops of their hardening cocks, watching me discreetly masturbating in public. Maybe they were trying to get my attention, maybe get me to pull over so they could rip off my shorts and thrust their cocks into me.
Who knows?
I tried to make it home to get on Girltime and really fuck myself proper, but I made it to the intersection about a 1/2 mile away and couldn't hold on any longer. I came right there, turning the corner, cars all around me, cunt gushing with my own juice.
Now that i think about it..
Being a girl so totally rocks.....so, never mind!!!!
....you probaly heard that one as a kid or that ..."if you masterbate you will go blind ...". I know I did, I grew up in a very strict home, my father is a preacher and my mom , a sunday school teacher so , one day when my mom mom caught me humping my pillow when I was younger she spanked me until I couldn't hardly walk. She told me that what I was doing was called "the nasties" and that I would go to hell.
I didn't want to touch my own vergina (haha my word for it) for a very long time b/c it was dirty. Believe me when I say that now that I am on my own, I am making up for lost time....here on Girltime, in the car, in class, at walmart..... as i am typing this blog...ahhh....
Which brings me to this thought when did you really start to enjoy the whole "self pleasure" thing? Are you open about it? or Are you still shy and would rarely admit to it???....let me know...I have to go right now....off to kill some kittens....j/k!!!
Once I had a "boyfriend" who lost the condom. Lost it. As in, he slipped out, the condom did not.
He was a jerk, and I thought he was kidding me. I was on the pill, so it wasn't like I was really worried, but after a moment or two of reaching up my unmentionables (I was merely sixteen at the most and painfully tight) he started making fun of me.
Did I mention he was a jerk?....and that he had a teenie weenie cock?...lol
So I went upstairs, to the privacy of the bathroom and tried to get up in there with my fingers and dig for a possibly lost condom or a really stupid joke, I wasn't sure which. After not finding the condom, I decided he was just being an asshole and forgot about it.
...Until three days later, when I had a gynecologist appointment. My mother, sweet soul that she is, made me have a MALE doctor (do not do this, asshole mothers/ and or fathers, to your daughters) and after getting myself into the hideous position and he reached inside, there was a moment of silence.
I heard the words that will forever be emblazoned in my memory, "Did you lose something?" as I awkwardly looked down to see him holding the lost condom with a pair of what looked like tongs, in his plastic gloved hands.
One dangling, used condom, that had been vacationing in the warmth of my cozy vagina for a few days. Just...dangling there in the air...held by a doctor using tongs, while I had my legs spread and a spotlight shining on my obviously well used and seemingly cavernous cooter.
Even the female nurse who was in the room looked hideously embarrassed for me, as my face turned red and I stuttered, "He said it was lost...I looked...I thought he was kidding...I tried to find it..."
I thought about him telling my mother that tidy bit of information, my darling mother waiting right outside in the waiting room, but I don't think he did. He did mention staying on birth control and not having sex with jerks who lose condoms, though.
I can't say I took his advice, but I did learn one very important lesson: have female gynecologists. At least she might understand and say a few soothing words, not just continue in well lit, spread legged silence.
Yes.
I lost something.
Thanks.
Now that i am a big girl now and can pick my own doctor, my new gyno looks like Greg Kinnear. He always asks me if I'm uncomfortable, and he rarely talks above the barely-audible range.
I call him "The Twat Whisperer."
He's so gentle, and so kind, and so apologetic that I just want to reassure him somehow. Like he's an awkward freshman on a blind date, I'm telling him, "No, it's all right, you're fine, that didn't hurt."
He was so dorky that I used to feel embarrassed for him, a bit, then I began to wonder if that's just his act, and he intentionally ellicits feelings of reassurance from all of his patients by doing this "uneasy wallflower" act. Yet he does it so well that I fall for it every time.
He even has a "speculum warmer". He keeps them in a box that's warmed by this heating pad thing, and they are always nice and toasty in my cunt...lol
A friend of mine told me that her boyfriend had recently asked her, with great interest, what her most whorish moment had been.
Hmmm. She and I debated this, and it's difficult. How does one quantify whorishness? Mutliple partners, scandalous activities, feelings concerning said acts? Does one rate whorishness on a scale of enjoyment, or deeds? Quality or quantity?
I don't know. I'll do both.
Quality- my sex life now. I have never had such primal, sweating, lust-filled whorishness fill my head as I do now that i am a girltime model. Being a model on this site makes me feel like a wild animal, makes me want to fuck and masterbate with reckless abandon, and the feeling only seems to grow stronger.
In that strength is freedom. And it is powerful. And in that power is hunger, for more, more strength, more freedom, more power, etc.
Quantity- I was about seventeen ( although at that point had been sexually active for quit some time) when i realized I was a closet slut, I was a smart girl, easy to talk to, popular, went to church every Sunady....and would basically have sex on a daily basis, lacking the will or drive to fight the urge of fucking . I just didn't care I loved it with a passion.
As for me I have what you call a "virgin-whore" complex . I am very good at being good and even better at being bad...your classic, lady in the streets freak in the sheets!!!
Your turn bouys and girls...what makes a whore a whore? Are you a whore?
I woke up this morning at 4:50, after having actually going to bed at 3:30. I was burning up. Then freezing. I had to pee.
While peeing in the dark bathroom, I very clearly realized that my body wanted caffeine, and a lot of it. "That's stupid", thought I, "for it is 4:50 am and I am not giving you caffeine you cracked out ho ( yes my slutty self and "good-girl self argue quit a bit...lol). Shut up and go back to bed." So I did.
However, that was my first clue- massive migraine incoming- and I dismissed it. I tossed and turned, my head hurt, I was hot, I was cold (all common migraine stuff for me) and when my alarm went off at 6 am, I was under no delusion. It sounded as if someone had stuffed that shrieking siren into my head. Each beep of the alarm echoed and somehow glared, a screaming hideous pain in my head.
Motrin...oh god...Motrin..This is a strict no-no. Those who are prone to ulcers are not allowed to take ibuprofen, especially not on an empty stomach. To hell with my stomach, I was gonna DIE! said my head. I agreed.
The Motrin started to work a bit, enough that I could sort of sit up. I got up after awhile and staggered into the kitchen, knowing I had to eat or I was screwed. No Motrin on an empty stomach. Besides, the kitchen contained other magical ingredients: all the other medications . I had to cover my eyes to walk in there, and even the light filtering through my fingers was torment.Shamelessly I downed Darvocet, muscle relaxers, Xanax, Clonzapam and Adderall. "Take that, you fucking migraine" thought I, and got a bowl of cereal.
After a minute I regained my balance and staggered off to the bedroom.
I chucked pillows behind me, pulled the covers all the way up, and tried to find some crazy ass position to put my head in that would still allow me to eat, yet relieve the excrutiating pain in my neck/head. I found one, good enough anyway. The first few bites sounded like granite inside my skull, then they got softer and the medication started to kick in. I finished the bowl and laid there, trying to figure out what to do.
I remembered reading that masturbation is a great cure for headaches. Although I've known this for years, it never seems like a good plan at the time. Who can masturbate with a screaming head?
Sometimes, when there's a will, there's a way.
This was that time.
I did so, careful not to move my neck or shoulders funny, trying to focus on hot yummy Girl Time thoughts, and sure enough the blood flow in my body most definitely changed direction. What was making my head feel volcanic was then suddenly making my nether regions feel freaking fabulous, and bah-da-boom, bah-da-bing, I felt pretty damn good when I was finished.
I shoved all the pillows away and started doing my neck exercises, laying flat out in the bed and just listening to the creaking and popping of my neck as it gave way to the pressure of stretching.
And none too soon, because the sun was coming up. Any sufferers of migraines know what I'm talking about- it was a race. I had to beat the sun coming up, or I was el-fuck-o-ed. Yah. I just made that up, and it FITS. El-fuck-o-ed. Once the sun is up, there is nowhere dark enough and the world turns into a big pile of hell. But I beat it. I made it.
WOW...I had been sporting the trim look for a couple of months now and prior to that i did the whole landing strip thing but, I have decided it is time for a pussy makeover ( I am going to post some pics of the new doo , tell me what you guy think). I had decided that my soul-sista' afro-puff needed to do a Brittney Spears . Sure my crotch might get a little cold at night and those pubic gnomes might need to find a new home. And while I’m all for au natural, I’m just not up for having to go up an underwear size because my pubic hair makes it look like I have more than a vagina in my pants. Plus, the ability to corn row (braid) anything other than the hair on my head is a clear sign that there’s a pubes emergency. But , I think it will make the difference between finger-fucking and crazy, porn-star-ish masterbation.
I need your opinion ,maybe you guys love a big hairy bush, and do not mind ingesting a mouthful of hair during cunnilingus (pussy-eating). And I imagine you’re stopping the hordes of germs (and small woodland animals) that might be trying to make their way into the vagina. But let’s be frank. Do you really like knowing that those pubic hair could be donated to Locks for Love??? I mean nothing says “sexy” like stray pubic hairs creeping down a pair of thighs and poking through panties and thongs....im sorry....I am trying to be open-minded about this....you guys tell me ARE YOU ANTI OR PRO BUSH???
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There is nothing like watching one of these hot chicks work their ever so blessed bodies and often wearing little to nothing . Honestly guys would you rather stroke your cock thinking about grabbing Baby Blues nice hips and your balls bouncing against her ass and/or Missy Lou on top with her killer tits boucing or invision fucking some coked out looking chick like Paris Hilton and being under the constant fear of breaking a bone and possiably losing your cock in that sink hole she callas a pussy...LMAO...Just a thought and if you are still considering the whole no body-Paris thing, I will personally do you the pleasure of coming over and let you smack my perfect chocolate bubble-butt while riding your cock...deal?...LMAO
....yes, I admit as a chick and girltime model , thai I have squirted and had some truly intense orgasms watching these girls on Girltime play, simply because they have curve and are truly thick and voluptious women....
The Proper Definitions of These Words:
Voluptuous: 1. Giving, characterized by, or suggesting ample, unrestrained pleasure to the senses.2. Having a strong sexual appeal. 3. Having a large bosom or appealing curves. 4. Having a very attractive body. 5.
Being full-bodied, curvy, large-bosomed, and appealing to the eyes of lesbian women or heterosexual men. 6. Describes a Woman who has a soft, curved, sexually attractive body.
Thick: 1. Used to describe a Woman who is meaty, but notfat, and still, pretty, with a round but shapely figure (round in all the right spots). 2. Used to describe a girl who is big, but not fat, and has a very nice shape. 3. Nice booty; legs, especially nice thighs; but still a decent waist. 4. A girl who isn't fat or skinny, but is well proportioned, has enough meat on her bones in all the right places. 5. A woman with a perfect body, filled-in in places that are, by nature, designed to attract the opposite sex, such as the thighs, the hips, the breasts, and the most-lovely part of all, the Booty. 6. When a girl's body has weight on it, but not ugly, out of shape weight. More like medium and curvy. A round behind and firm, full legs is considered thick. 7. A woman with meat on her bones not so much that she’s overweight, but she has junk in the trunk. 8. Having more of a solid, muscular form, in the thighs, butt, legs, and MUST HAVE a small, flat waist. 9. Not skinny but not fat, having meaty legs, a nice, shapely butt, and large breast. 10. A word used for a girl when she has a big butt and big thighs but is still shapely. 11. Not Fat and not Skinny.
MarilynMonroe, considered in her time to be a voluptuous vixen, had a figure of 37-24-37 (1954). A woman measuring 36-26- 38 (with a C or D cup or higher most likely) is considered voluptuous, also measurements of 38-27-40 or 39-28-42 would be considered voluptuous – most especially if shapely. Other examples of thick women: Angelina Jolie, Beyonce, Jennifer Lopez, Jessica Alba, Jessica Biel, Eva Logoria......Are you hard yet????
Well, guys I am definately good and "moist now" hopefully you will send me a private massage on here are catch me online and I will show you how sexy thick black chicks play....Bye for now
Why is it that blow job euphemisms are so oddly incorrect? "She sucks like a Hoover", "She could suck the bumper off of a Chevy", (insert other bizarre sayings here). They're not only incorrect, they're downright misleading.
Being a teenager and trying to figure out how master the fine art of oral sex, I was totally baffled by these sayings. I knew guys really liked blow jobs but I got the impression I wasn't doing it right.
Then one time (shortly after hearing the "Hoover" saying) I thought, maybe I'm not doing it hard enough? Maybe you're supposed to really get a strong suction action going (I can hear you guys cringing). Yes, I tried it, and to that boyfriend all I can say is, "You deserved it, you fuck face. I got you in advance for stalking me and making me crazy. That's for leaving everything I ever touched in your house (including your toothbrush) on my parents front lawn at 3 am!"
But at the time I didn't know he would turn out to be a psychotic freak who who later end up on my roof screaming in broad daylight while all my neighbors watched and I cowered in the closet terrified, oh no. I just thought he was great. And I wanted to be the oral sex goddess, so I tried to SUCK his dick. His quick response was a strangled squeak and then grabbing my head away from his traumatized member. He tactfully informed me, "Not so hard!" and I realized that this Hoover business was a bunch of crap. So why the hell do guys say these stupid things?
I'm going to take a wild guess here and assume it's because saying things like, "She licks my cock like it was ice cream made of edible gold dripping down the cone onto her hand" sounds, I don't know, gay as hell? But I'm telling you, THAT would make a hell of a lot more sense to a girl who doesn't know how to do it right.
Sometimes I hear guys complain that licking pussy is confusing as well. I've got to say, that business about learning to tie a cherry stem in a knot is a bunch of crap. I think I can speak for all women when I tell you that none of us wants our clit tied in a fucking knot. Too much attention on the Happy Button and it turns from feeling fucking awesome into being electrocuted through your clit. Guys, if you just can't imagine what I mean then picture getting your cock tasered. Yah. There ya go. It's painful and shocking and every muscle in your whole body goes stiff. Really, it's hideous. No clitoral knot tying, thank you. In exchange, we will not try to remove your pecker from your personage using extreme suction, ok? Deal?
Definition: (NPM) A nymphomaniac is a person that is a BIG ASS FREAK in the bedroom. A person with no problem expressing himself/herself sexually, is very comfortable with their sexuality and has a thirst for adventure in the boudoir and beyond, loves everything to do with sex and about sex, learns all that they can and is a huge participant in the sexual freak show. Usually a pussy eating and or cock sucking fiend with sex moves out of this galaxy, a nymphomaniac is the epitome of what every woman wishes she could be in the bedroom, and what every man wishes he could have.
There are several different levels of nymphomaniacs .The thing about being a nympho is that in some cultures/countries, it's still considered taboo for a woman to be that into sex. It's considered a sin in some religions, with labels from whore and slut flying fast and furious whenever you are merely exhibiting your sensual nature. Even in the United States, there is still a huge group of people that label, judge and deride a lover of sex. On Sex & the City, the most sexually provocative show of our generation, it was the nympho that got cancer...the sex lover got "punished" for loving sex.
So Guys can you handle it? Hell , I am still looking for a man who can, who can enjoy a lady in the streets and a freak in the streets .As my other big ass nymphos will tell you, it's taking your essence and chi to a whole new level. There is much to be said about loving your body and all the sensual delights that it can bring. It's liberating and free, allowing yourself to ultimately focus on infinite joy. Being a nympho is not just loving yourself, but being a lover of pleasure. The elemental cultivation of pleasure on a moment to moment basis, whether it's the feel of velvet against your skin, the adoration of any nude form, the provocation of the five senses, the loss of all inhibitions and the joie de vivre that can be found in every moment; being a nympho is liberating, satisfying and deeply exhilirating.
A nympho doesn't need a man or woman to satisfy him/her, he/she's quite capable of bringing him/herself to multiple orgasms all by his/her fine self. However, when he/she does choose a guy/girl/or both to share in the bliss he/she will count their lucky stars (if he doesn't, he's still repressed.) There was a reason that Cleopatra in all her plainness was able to snag those hotties, and it wasn't just because she was a queen.
Most men adore nymphos and secretly love the fact that they love sex and not to mention, because I am the "grab him, suck him, ride him" type, plus I am the nymph variety that wants to do it everywhere and anywhere, all the time. However, there still exists the myth that a man will not date a nympho, I am challenging that thought and believe a man will.I am looking for the right guy ( or girl) for who will recognize that a fabulous nymph like me doesn't come by everyday and will do his best to hold onto me. Now will he/she be able to keep up with me? That's a different story altogether. 
I went to a Pure Romance party last week. You know, it's like the Tupperware party with dildos and sex toys. Mostly it's fluff and stuff. It's some cute and yummy smelling fluff and stuff, but fluff and stuff just the same.( I am also posting pics of the party!!!!)
It was amusingly difficult, this dildo buying party. I had gone with a friend of mine, who the party was being thrown for. A graduation sort of deal, although , I think this was just a glorious and gluttonous excuse to buy sex toys, shaped into a "Yay, You're Graduating!" theme. In no way do I mean to discredit her big day, I'm just trying to point out that it wasn't the ACTUAL graduating party. It was a little wild, a little crazy (and a lot of pussy eating....yummmy), and being that I was NOT the designated driver of the Graduate To Be, I was planning to drink my ass off. I was eating the hell out of those little spanakopitas. Damn, those were good. I think I was using them to keep my big smut- perverted, taboo-talking, cock-sucking mouth closed before I said something utterly... like me (LMAO).
Before we left for the party, I asked her what was allowable. Meaning, she knows me damn well, and knows I have no problem discussing sex once people are safely on the topic. What I wanted to know was: where would you like me to stop, please? I didn't really know any of her other friends, and I didn't want to be the one person in the room saying, "So, can this device be lubed up and shoved in your butt, or what?" or "How can I use this with a ball gag?" or "Where in the hell is the REAL kinky shit, if you please?" I didn't know if her friends would still be staring at me funny during the ceremony. Or whispering. Or slipping me their phone numbers. I'm just saying. I've seen stranger shit happen.
She told me to keep it to the level of everyone else. Ok. Um. All right. So I did. *makes strangled noise* Mostly. But it was so HARD!
The chick running the show kept saying silly things. Really silly things. It was impossible not to question her. Or sometimes downright argue with her. When she got to the weird gobbely gook that you can supposedly put in your vagina to make it swell and feel tighter, I had reached my silly tolerance level.
I cocked an eyebrow and said, "You what, now? And how in the hell does it do that?" She smiled brightly, glad I asked, and told us all that it has alum in it. Oh, yes. Alum. I stared at her, horrified. She said I needn't worry because the product was created by female gynecologists and everything they sell is pH balanced and cannot possibly hurt the vagina. I continued to stare, and the graduate-to-be leaned over and said, equally horrified, "Alum? Does that sound like a good idea?" to which I whispered back, "Hell the fuck no! That's what's in Blistex! You use it to dry up freaking chancre sores! What the fuck!?"
(My bad. I did a search and it's actually Carmex that uses alum.)
Alum can help stop bleeding, as well, my fuck-buddy pointed out later. Which might come in useful, I suppose, when you shove a product up your twat that makes it swell tightly and then have sex, causing untold lacerations if you aren't properly lubed. I mean, I suppose have an ingredient that stops the bleeding might just come in really handy.
Also available was another product to numb your rectum for ass play.My friend looked at me again in horror. I was probably mirroring her expression, although I was trying vainly to not do so. I was working hard to maintain a poker face, no pun intended, because the twat tightener cream (coarseness of language is due to raging sarcasm, sorry) already had me in a tizzy. I was forced to interrupt the lady back at that point. I just couldn't stand it. It seemed to me to be my civic duty as a fellow vagina bearer to point out the absurdity of sticking alum in your cooter. I had raised my hand, trying to be polite.
"Yes?" the gal running the show asked me.
"Uh. Er. Um... what about..." I paused, trying to find a polite way to state what I felt was so glaringly obvious we all could have been staring at a solar flare, "What about just doing Kegal exercises? I mean, why use this product? What about the good old Kegals?"
I said it as if it were some old school idea that showed how obviously dated and archaic my way of thinking was, because that's how I felt, sitting in a room with other women who seemed enraptured by the product with alum in it. Perhaps Kegals are considered unfashionable now? Is this the new method? I felt old. Is alum now the easy path to coochy tightness? Have I been doing months of Kegals when I could have just shoved some alum up in there, or perhaps, just maybe, is this product... I don't know... totally INSANE?
The lady looked at me for a moment. I swear I could feel "troublemaker" being branded on my head. Maybe it was "pain in the ass" or "blacklisted from further parties", I'm not sure. But she rallied magnificently and talked briefly about Kegal exercises, then moved on to another product. The other girls still seemed enamored, so I dropped it. Despite my overwhelming urge to make a Public Service Announcement, I held back and let the party continue. How bad would her party suck if one chick just kept arguing with the presenter? I vowed not to be that chick.
There were plenty of great products... well, they were good. I don't know about great. I'm guessing the average chick that goes to a party like that and doesn't visit sex toy stores or websites would get a whole hell of an eyeful. Or even a handful, as the various products were passed around for us to taste, touch, feel, turn on, whatever. I mean, that's a hell of an improvement over the products in a store, I've got to hand them that. They get a gold freaking star for that brilliant idea. How much does it suck to not be able to even touch a future sex toy, not have any idea what it even feels like, but be forced to buy it (no returns!) to find out if you like it? Trying to find a good dildo is an expensive lesson in trial by error and elimination. Being able to hold a sample dildo, turn it on and wrap your hand around it was nearly priceless.
In this case, it was actually priceless. Meaning, a few of the products I was eyeballing I ended up disinterested in once I got them in my hand. That was kind of a bummer, but it was nice to not spend the money ahead of time to find out I didn't care for it. The grad to be and I were busy clutching the dildos with the spinning beads in particular, testing which one was powerful enough to not break. She and I both have burned out a motor or two on those twisting silly things. I have a theory about that, of course. I think she and I both have been doing our Kegals instead of sticking alum up our twats, so we actually have strong enough PC muscles to break the damn things.
*folds arms across chest and nods emphatically* Hmph!
Oh, I had fun, (and got to taste some cooter!!!) I most certainly did. And I did buy things. If I had a pile of spare cash laying around, I suppose I would have gone ahead and bought some of the fluff and stuff, too. Some of those brush it on and lick it off jars of gobbely goop were pretty damn tasty. And the pink fluffy tethers were damn adorable, but I was also trying to buy stuff for my beloved grad to be, as well. Curse you, budget! I'll have to ask her how they work out, and maybe I'll get them for myself and for you guys that will be watching me sometime in the future.
All in all in was a fun and silly good time, despite my urges to engage in scientific sex banter with the lady running the party. Now if only the darn things would come in the mail already so I can form a more... scientific opinion. Besides, I'd like to stop running to the door every time someone knocks on it. It's embarrassing to open the door with a happy face and wet pussy, "Is that my dildo you've got there?" expression each time.
Stay tuned. Experiments and case studies to be discussed in the (hopefully!) near future.
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