Getting comfortable with it

I love when you shave the boys. I can see, touch every inch of your skin. It is wrinkled, exposed – asking to be touched to be licked.

I touch your wrinkly ball sack first. I examine your soft skin with my fingers. You are sitting naked on your computer chair. I kneel down in front of you and lean forward for a kiss. You pull our naked bodies close together as our tongues dance in our mouths.

After we break apart, I kiss my way down your chest. I have to hold myself back from just diving straight for your cock. I want to, you want me too. But still, the delay is delicious.

Finally, I taste you. I lick the underside of your balls up, up, up toward the base of your cock. Then the tip calls to me. I lick around the ridge of your cockhead and down over your shaft. With each stroke of my mouth I spread wetness over you so I can slide up and down smoothly with no resistance.

I keep my eyes open while I lick you. I notice your veins, the different shades of your skin.

I bury my face between your legs and lick, lick, lick. In the meantime, I'm sliding my hand up and down your shaft.

My mona begins to respond. She tingles. She grows wet. She makes me moan, a muffled sound around your cock in my mouth.

“Here,” you say, “I'll move down.”

You scoot your ass forward until it hangs off the edge of the chair. It's an invitation I'm glad to accept.

Once again, I lick your asshole. My tongue explores the ridges and textures. Over and over, I lick my way up, past your perineum and to your balls. I feel your cock pulse with pleasure in my hand.

“Lick all over,” you say. “Lick everything.” And I do.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. I stand up and take your hand.

“Let's go to the bedroom,” I say, and you follow me willingly.

That's why I married you

The other day Chad and I went to a bar to watch his favorite sports team play with his brother. We typically don't drink but he was having a few beers that day.

I'm not a football fan so I went out to do a little shopping. That's when he called me on my cell phone.

"I never even noticed them when we came in but there's a whole row of bras hanging from the ceiling," he said. "If you take off your bra and sign your name to it they'll give me a free drink!"

At first I protested. It's my I-wear-it-all-the-time bra. Which means two things: I don't want to lose it and it's not really the kind of bra I'd like to have hanging in a bar with my name on it. If I'm going to donate a bra it should be impossibly lacy and sexy, not everyday serviceable.

But I could hear the disappointment in his voice. It wasn't the free drink - it was the idea of me taking off my bra in a bar. He wanted me to let loose little bit of Dirty Filthy Princess outside the bedroom - the sexy vixen with no limitations.

Besides, the rules of the game say you don't have to show anything, you just unhook it under your shirt and take it off through your sleeves. I didn't object to taking my bra off in public, the bra was my only issue.

"I'll think about it," I told him.

After a little thought I rushed to a discount store and found the cheapest, pretty bra I could find. I switched bras and went back to the bar, prepared to donate my $6 bra for a $3 free drink.

When I told my husband what I'd done his reaction was worth it. His face lit up and he said, "That's why I married you!"

In the end I got to keep my cheapie bra, which is kind of nice since I found I actually like it. I think the main thing for Chad was that I would do all that for him if he asked me to. He didn't need me to really give up my bra, just be the kind of girl that would - the girl that he married.

What do the rest of you think? Would you give up your bra in public? Does your feminist side, if you have one, object? What about the men? Would you take it the way my husband did if your wife/girlfriend was willing to do that for you?

Rag doll of happiness

I'm gripping the sheets, lifting the material off the mattress in hot, sweaty bunches. My head is lifted off the bed, the muscles of my neck standing out, stiff and strained.

I look down to where you are, nestled between my legs. All I can see is the the top of your head and your eyes, turned up, watching me. The rest of your face is buried deep in my pussy - licking, rubbing, flicking.

A white hot beams of pleasure radiate from my core. Heat spreads from my inward outward, trickling down my thighs, spreading through my lower back in gentle but persistent waves. I push my head back on the pillow and let sound pour from my mouth.

I realize my whole body is tense. I force myself to relax, let the feelings wash over me. My grip loosens on the sheets. They leave my hands in damp, wrinkled clumps.

I'm getting closer, closer. I grind myself up against your face just to feel the scrape of stubble. My hips thrust a little. They have a will of their own.

"Harder," I demand. "Harder!"

You take as much of me in your mouth as you can. I feel you sucking hard. I feel your stubble pressing against my screaming skin. I feel your tongue moving frantically.

My knees close around your head like a vice grip. I wail out louder as I rock us side to side on the bed.

You don't let go. You won't let go until you are satisfied.

An eternity later, you release me, a limp rag doll of happiness. My legs are Jello. My head feels light. I giggle weakly.

You sucked the smart, independent woman right out of me. Who needs her anyway.

Pickup Podcast interview

A couple of months ago I did an interview with AJ and Jordan from Pickup Podcast. The interview is now up for your listening pleasure. Click here to find a link to the interview.

AJ and Jordan refer to me as a "religious christian nympho sex blogger", which I think is hilarious. Hey, God invented sex, so there you go. Also, if you want a chance to hear me babbling about sex on an ottoman, here's your chance!

Oral fixation

Sometimes
I want to bite you.

Not hard
just nibble
your soft, sweet skin.

Yesterday, after sex,
I bit your fingers
just a little.
I nipped at the palm of your hand.

It's not always sexual.
It just is.

I bit your shoulder
when we were sitting on the sofa,
watching Buffy.
I just wanted a little taste.

I want to bite you more.
I want to bite you harder.
Let's make a date.

Breaking the fast

There is only one good thing about no sex for six days. Breaking the fast.

My first week of work at a new job left me absolutely exhausted. After some serious sleep catch-up time it was time to catch up on lost nookie time.

Chad worked a night shift Friday night so he slept most of the day. Come to think of it, I did too. I woke up this morning, watched a little TV and then went back to bed for a nap. After we both woke up for the day we relaxed in front of the TV some more. Zoning out in front of the TV was about all I was good for after the week I had.

Once we'd both had enough time to wake up we headed to the bedroom. When we got naked and started kissing I went from zero to horny in about 3 seconds flat.

I laid there and enjoyed the attention for a while. He kissed me in all my favorite places while his fingers traced patterns on my clit. It didn't take long before all the stress of the week was completely forgotten and I was my old dirty filthy self again.

"I think maybe I should suck your cock now," I said after a while.

He, of course, agreed. So I kissed my way down his belly leaving my ass up by his head for easy access to my clit. His cock was already hard, calling me. But I passed it up just long enough to lick the underside of his balls.

While I was licking and kissing his balls he reached for my G-spot. I was still fairly tight so I could feel the walls of my pussy pushing against him as he worked two fingers inside me. Once in a while I like that feeling of being invaded, stretched.

Then he was inside me. Almost immediately I could feel my body responding. I moaned around the meat in my mouth and wiggled my ass a little in pleasure.

As I sucked enthusiastically he responded by slamming his fingers into my G-spot harder and harder. To say it was intense would be an understatement.

After a while he slipped his fingers out of my pussy prison and reintroduced them to my clit. I love that moment. Going from my G-spot to my clit is a move that is sure to coax out a lurking orgasm very quickly.

We continued to enjoy ourselves in several different positions before we were both ready to fuck. I lay back on the bed and he brought us both home together.

Sprawled out sideways on the bed together, we talked about how intense things had been. After 6 days of no sex we were both ravenously hungry. It was serious, no messing around sex.

Here's to making up for lost time!

It's not ALL about the sex

Sometimes, when we were first dating, Chad would tease me that all I wanted him for was his body. Even though it was a joke, it was true that we did put a lot of focus on the sexual aspect of our relationship in the beginning. Heck, we still put a lot of focus in that.

However, I'll repeat now what I have said before. I love him for more than his penis.

Unfortunately, in the last week his penis and I have had no face time. Or pussy time. No any time.

I've alluded to it before but there is this new career opportunity that came to me a while ago. I've started a new job as the editor of a small weekly newspaper. With a complete redesign of the paper it's taking a lot of my time and attention right now. Monday was technically my first day, although I'd been preparing for it for a while now.

So now I'm working full time. Not only that, but in these beginning weeks it's more than full time. I didn't get home until 9 p.m. or later for the first three days of the week.

Chad knows I'm exhausted right now. When I come home from work he spends some time listening to me talk about my day and then we usually veg in front of the TV for a while.

Then I go to bed. To sleep. There just isn't time or energy for sex right now. This job is draining a lot out of me - but the good news is it should get better after a while.

It's a given that we're going to make up for lost time at the earliest possible moment. There will be plenty of dirty filthy licking, sucking and fucking.

But for now I appreciate the things my husband is doing for me that are NOT about the sex. I appreciate that he is willing to listen to me. I appreciate that he ordered a pizza and didn't eat even one bite until I got home at after 9 p.m. last night. I appreciate that he's been rubbing my back and my neck and comforting me when I cry because I'm feeling overwhelmed.

I firmly believe that if couples put more focus and attention into the physical side of their relationship it would save them a lot of headache and heartache. But having a connection isn't all about sex. Sometimes it's just about being there.

Thanks for being there for me sweetie.

It's may not be popular, but it's true

I've been struggling with something lately. A reader that very clearly displays on their profile that they are under 18 years old has been commenting on my blog. I did comment back to this person once that my blog isn't meant for teens and they reacted, of course, very defensively and have continued commenting.

This makes me uncomfortable. It has made me realize that there could very well be more than one youth reading my blog.

I like comments. I like traffic. I'm not ashamed of my content - I feel I have an important story to tell about married sex. But the little warning in the left-hand upper corner of my blog isn't just there to fill space. I truly mean that.

If you are under 18 I don't think this is an appropriate space for you. I know picking a number like that seems sort of arbitrary - one 18 year old may be less mature than another 17 year old. But I have to start somewhere.

If you are under 18 I cannot physically stop you from reading or even commenting on my blog. But I don't intend to just sit by and not say something because you aren't going to like it.

I'll repeat it. This blog is intended for a mature audience of at least 18 years old and older. If you haven't yet reached that milestone in your life I wish you would do something more age-appropriate with your time. And that means in the bedroom and with what blogs you read.

What do the rest of you sexbloggers out there think about this? Have you ever had any of the younger set lurking about your sex content? How did or would you deal with this?