Monday, September 26, 2011

The Set-Up

One of my gym-friends today took me by surprise; while we were setting up for Pilates she suddenly asked if I was single. When I told her I wasn't she went on to say that it's just that she has this friend who's also single... and she's quite a catch... (she trailed off there).

I'm not sure how I would have responded if she'd asked if I had a girlfriend instead, because that's a slightly more involved answer and I wonder if it would have flustered me. But then, I actually briefly considered supplementing my answer anyway and decided the explanations would be too lengthy and get in the way of the class.

It's strange how much more at ease I feel about talking about tricky things these days. I guess they just aren't as tricky any more as they once may have seemed.

Also, this is the first time that I'm aware of that someone has tried to set me up. *ticks box*

It was an interesting experience.

Monday, September 19, 2011

e[lust] edition #29

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #30? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Evidence To The Contrary - If anyone out there ever tries to tell you that internet relationships and friendships are not real, point them in my direction and I will happily set them straight on the matter because I have proof, in fact I am proof, that they know not what they speak of.

Open Marriages Don't Work....- The only way I would agree with that statement is if you add: .....if you're marriage already has problems. But even that part is not universally true.

Love in the Age of Broadband - What happened to our ability to keep it casual? Why would we attach ourselves to someone who is (often) hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away? And, more to the point, why would we attach ourselves to someone we have never met?

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Ask Lilly – Open and Polyamorous: Why be married at all?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

My apologies, everyone, since submissions closed I've been 100% consumed with personal family tragedy (the flooding in Central PA) so I didn't have time to read most of the entries this time or find a photo. The html code might contain a lot of blank lines for some of you, I didn't have time to "clean" it up, either, just throw up what I have.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Ask Aunty Dee: Dental Dams
born this way...
Clit Truth
Condoms and Size
Lies & Infidelities
Misguided Dominance
Poly Language
Return to Decadence
Step Inside My Head
Who was the first person you told..
When Bad Things Happen To Good People – Warning Bells

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

To Be Out Or Not To Be Out
Want Sado-Erotic Horror Movies? Yes please! Films by Matthew Saliba
What I've Learned From E[Lust]

Kink & Fetish

A Much Needed Distraction
Another drink?
Caged
Facing Fear
Negotiation Win

Erotic Writing

As Long As It Lasts
Asking For It
Anticipation
Blow Job
Campfire
Debra's Gift
Feral
Fantasy
June’s Caning
Please, Please, Please, Sir
Showers and Strawberries
slick
The Visitor
The Play Fight

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Change of Season

I enjoy winter.

Winter is good for snuggling. Winter is good for warm drinks and close company and heaters. Winter is for three bodies under the blankets together working up a sweat.

Winter is awesome.

Today was one of the first good summery days of the season. Warm weather, sunshine. Short skirts, tanned legs and sunglasses.

Summer is awesome too.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Crotch Topiary & Other Delights

I have a heart. Actually, I have the remnants of a heart. I've been holding off writing this post for months now because I was sure it would be oodles funnier when it was all fixed and back to normal. Alas, I'm not sure that day is ever going to come so I am going to tell you now and get it over with.

I am a fairly fluffy person. I'm not sure why this is. My parents are not fluffy people. The rest of my family are also reasonably unfluffy. Somehow, I'm the lint bunny of the clan. My arms are well-insulated against arctic gusts and I'm fairly sure that my leg hair, if left to its own devices would eventually felt itself into a functional pair of slacks. Once upon a time I may have even been the reluctant owner of a rather luxurious unibrow.

The day I learned about razors was the day I stole one from my parents' bathroom and shaved almost everything off. The following day was when I realised this was not the smartest plan. Everything was unpleasantly prickly and no amount of hair gel would fix it (it made sense at the time). It didn't take my mother long to realise some education was required. Education and a slightly more kiddie-safe razor.

As the years went on my mass of long, soft, straight leg hair became an angry forest of dark stubble. It became so dark that I moved from having glaringly white legs into something more in fleabitten grey territory. I tried home waxing with those newfangled sugar strips but they did not agree with me. I sweated, I blurred, I threw up once or twice, and went into some sort of post-waxing shock. I decided it best to just shave the remaining hairy parts.

By this time I had developed a small but enthusiastic crotch forest. It was not the short and curlies that all the becoming a woman books talked about, the hairs there were long and straight and poked out of (and through) underwear and cozzies in unflattering ways. It took me a long while to even contemplate grooming that area because of the pre-emptive strike my mother had taken some years earlier that put liking girls with bare pubic areas a bit too close to liking much-too-young girls. Thanks Mum.

These days I do groom down there, and it is certainly not because I want to look much-too-young. I just don't like looking like I'm hiding a small tarantula ranch in my undergarments. At first I tried shaving but soon discovered that was a very limited time offer and any sex had to be had immediately to avoid super-excessive chafing. It took some time for it to dawn on me that if the hairs were gone, rather than just cropped to skin-level, the searing post-coital flames of hell might not be so painful. Given my rather unpleasant experiences with waxing and my reluctance to bend over and spread my butt cheeks to some poor beautician, I decided to do it myself. I asked questions, I found the right wax, I read all the blogs and forums... how hard could it possibly be?

Don't. Just don't.

I paced around the bathroom for several minutes before finally biting the bullet and calling Brandi. After explaining my waxy predicament and waiting for her laughter to die down, I sat on the cold floor, took a deep breath and pulled off the tiny strip of wax. I squeaked. I felt tears falling down my face. I looked in the mirror, I looked at the wax, I looked back to my very uneven, very lopsided pubic hair, then finally back to the wax. I picked up the lid and screwed it on. Roll on, weeks of asymmetry. Roll on, years of Brandi asking about the status of my fuzzy bits.

You would think that living with somewhat impressionist crotch hair for months would have taught me my lesson, but no. I tried this tear-jerking procedure three more times with very similar results before I finally threw out every pot of hard wax in the house and tried to embrace my 70's bush.

I tried and failed.

A white bikini and 70's bush is not a great look. Blindingly pale skin peppered with spotty black stubble is also not too flash. After some chatting with the primped and preened vanilla folk in my life I decided I was in need of something with a bit more grunt and several fancy attachments. I wanted mains power and the ability to yank out several dozen hairs in a single move. I wanted... an epilator.

Oh boy, did I want that epilator! I giggled and cooed and squeaked and sweated and by the time I got around to attacking my bikini line, my knickers were well and truly soaked through. I wasn't exactly mentally aroused, but my body was thoroughly enjoying the systematic plucking. I just couldn't stop. More hair! Arthur popped in once or twice and, after seeing my flushed cheeks and broad grin, walked away shaking his head and laughing. I admit, I did hit the edge of my pain tolerance before I was completely free of body hair, but at least I was trimmed and symmetrical. It was a far, far better experience than waxing ever was.

I think that is why I got cocky. Well, a combination of epilator invincibility and an article I read when I was 13 years old about Winona Ryder and her heart-shaped pubic hair. At the time it had struck me as rather unattainable because I could not figure out how to get symmetrical curves using wax. It seemed to require some exotic skills that I did not posess. Epilation, however, was just a hairy sort of craft. I could do crotch craft!

Anna + craft supplies + power tool = crotch topiary brilliance.

I admit I started simple, I realised my teenage dream of having a Winona-inspired heart emblazoned on my mound. It was perfect. I used Contact paper to design my heart and just went to town pulling out every hair that was not covered. I then tidied things up with tweezers, added a little posing in front of a mirror, and called it a day. I was feeling pretty darn proud of myself. If I could make a heart with this technique, why not lightning bolts or crabs or little Space Invaders aliens?

Aaand this is where it all went pear shaped. Pubic hair is a funny thing. It never behaves as you expect that it should. I expected that all of the hair I removed would grow back fairly quickly, and it did. What I did not expect was for it to grow back much thicker and darker than the stencilled heart. I certainly did not expect for it to stay like that through full hair removals and a couple of partials. It has been almost a year and my body is refusing to give up this little bit of whimsy.

I seem to have permanently branded myself a lover. Still, It could be worse, I could have permanent crabs. A small part of me is disappointed that I wasn't more ambitious. It would be pretty damn cool to be able to drop my pants and flash the bat signal, don't you think?

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Us, Summarised

We've been writing this blog for a fair while now. And together Anna and I have written around 350 posts. It is getting difficult to pick up the thread if you haven't been reading along from the beginning.

And this made me think. How can I make this easier?

So, now, you'll find a new page labeled "Catch Me Up" at the top of the page. I'll do my best to keep it updated on a regular basis, and it is intended as a quick intro to this blog for the reader in a hurry.

There is a broad outline of posts that covers how we got from our first hesitant steps into non-monogamy to where we unexpectedly find ourselves now; right in the middle of polyamory.

There are a couple of posts on STIs and sexual health that are near to my heart.

And then there are a few miscellaneous categories with collected posts that may be of interest to smaller groups of you.

I hope this all contributes to making it easier for new people to get started and follow along, because it's turned into the most exciting adventure of our lives.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

OkC-girl

I just spent a week interstate for work. It was supposed to be a productive and interesting experience, but instead it turned out to be dull and tedious. Many a time I longed to just go out into the unexpectedly nice sunny weather to sit on the beach instead, but alas, a job to do and all that.

Luckily there was one highlight to the experience, and that was making a new friend. No, not a new interstate friend. An e-Friend. My being interstate is in fact totally tangential to the story I am actually telling here.

A little while before I went off on my trip I exchanged some messages with a girl on OkCupid. I had been changing my profile from its initial "unicorns-may-apply" flavour into more of a "smart-and-interesting-people-may-apply" flavour, and either because of that or through sheer circumstance we made a connection. And you won't hear me complain, because one can never have too many smart and interesting people in ones life.

I hadn't really thought of OkCupid as a place to make friends as such. And I'm still mentally adjusting a little to the idea that it doesn't matter that that's where I found her. Hopefully I'll have a chance to catch up with her in person sometime soon and talk software and strange electronicy music that Anna doesn't quite enjoy.

Now, before I get comments that I might be (inadvertently) leading her on... my profile makes mention of the intricacies of my relationships. She is in no way lacking for background information.

Maybe dating sites would be a happier place overall for everyone if they focused more on making friends than scoring dates. By what I hear womens inboxes for one would be less filled with drivel.