Spunky and Slippery

The sex education I had growing up wasn’t too bad. Not that it was terribly memorable either (unlike finding and devouring my father’s Playboy cartoon books. Which I now own).

What do I remember? I remember making rockets out of tampons at eleven. I remember being amazed  at sixteen when I found out that spunk (a term we used for a sexy guy) was slang for sperm. I know that I was taught about condoms and spermicide and the pill – and early enough that I used all of those things. Just.

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Morning After

On Sunday morning I went to the pharmacy to get the morning-after pill.  It’s only the second time I’ve ever needed to ask for one (the last time was eight years ago). Once again, it was a reasonably easy process, and I count myself lucky to live where I do.

Why did I need it? The night before the condom had come off.

I wasn’t particularly freaked out about it. In fact, I was a little amused (at the situation), and a little annoyed (at myself, for not holding onto the base of the condom as I went to pull myself off Hylas and collapse). I wasn’t concerned about STD’s – he and I had both been tested a few months earlier, and our other partners also get tested regularly. No, I was most concerned about possible pregnancy.

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No Sir, I Don’t Like It!

There’s nothing quite like a new experience. But I don’t think I like this one – I have a UTI. For those who don’t get the acronym: a Urinary Tract Infection.

Not so sexy.

On the bright side, I don’t have the burning sensation when peeing, or the peeing of blood. (I feel so lucky.) No, I just have the strong desire to pee, all the time. Like there’s something pressing on my bladder. Gah.

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When I think about my masturbation habits and what they physically involve, I tend to focus on a few things: my cunt; my mind; my fingers; my nipples. My eyes, for reading erotica or watching porn. My toes, because they curl so spectacularly when I come.

But what I don’t focus on is my ankles. Generally speaking I don’t think of ankles much at all, unless a particularly shapely one catches my eye, or I’m concentrating on walking along a stony path.

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The delicious TeacherinHeels and the delectable Man with Secrets have both tagged me with this meme … and it’s one I find a tad challenging, as I deliberately keep this blog separate from my other online profile. How to share facts about myself without inadvertently giving myself away? After some thought I decided, seeing as this is a Sex Blog, to make my facts seven random Sex Facts.

The rules: each person starts with 7 random facts about themselves on their Blog. People who are tagged need to blog 7 facts about themselves and post the rules as well. At the end of their blog list 7 people you are tagging (and then let them know that they are tagged by leaving them a comment).

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I really like my bruises.

I like receiving them. I like being told to present my bottom, and having Helios smack my arse until I cry. I like spending hours with Adonis, building the tension until he bites and claws at my shoulders and neck as I squirm and gasp beneath him. I like relaxed, familiar fucking with Apollo – leaning over him as I ride his cock, watching him suck my breasts intently.

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Back to the Front Lines

My arse is quite large – and I like it that way.

But you’d think having more space to spank, flog, cane and otherwise abuse would lead to a wider use of it – but no, I get hit over and over in the same damn places. I’m sitting rather gingerly today – although not as gingerly as yesterday, when Apollo (to his great amusement) took the photo for me. According to his practised eye, my bruising is more colourful this morning, but it’s a good deal more comfortable to live with!

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