Posted by red on October 17th, 2012 in Erotica, Kink, Play Piercing

Paul seemed taken with the medical aspect of it all; he took special care to lay out all of the tools for the scene on a shiny metal tray in a neat and tidy row – little packages of sterile surgical lube, needles in their blister packs, small corks and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. As he fished through a drawer on his desk, I plucked his box of blue nitrile gloves from his bedside safer sex supply stash and placed them beside his shiny metal tray. As I continued to wait patiently, I reflected to myself how the box of gloves made the setup look less sexy from a visual perspective, and yet from a safer-sex-is-hot standpoint it upped the slowly developing scene to a truly delicious level of anticipatory sensuality.

“I just need to decide what ones to use. Too small is boring but some of these are too big…” He explained, turning around clutching a bundle of long, metal sticks in his hand. It was my first time seeing rosebud sounds in person, but I was familiar with what they looked like, in general – swollen pills attached to thin metal chopsticks. I was taken aback at how insanely wide some of them actually were – clearly the limits of the human body far exceeded the limits of my imagination in the “how big can your urethra stretch” realm. As I reflected on the dedication presumably involved in achieving penetration by the larger of the sound sizes, Paul selected a few that were still, admittedly, larger than I would have thought reasonable, explaining that he had a ‘usual’ one and liked to challenge himself with one larger if things were going well. That sort of go-getter attitude is probably what makes using those largest sounds in the set eventually possible for those so inclined and dedicated.

“And, we can use this one on you!” He exclaimed, pulling me from my inner dialogue and making me laugh a little nervously. “Only if you want to try it, of course.” He continued, smiling, his eyes sparkling and piercing right through my hesitation into the deviant within. Paul was very talented at convincing me to do things I wasn’t exactly considering at the outset, by laying them out there as almost a challenge and smiling that impish smile. With him I constantly found myself doing things I hadn’t anticipated. There was no coercion or forceful boundry pushing, he was simply talented at picking up on the fact that items on my maybe list that were moving towards yes, and equally talented at presenting me with ideas I hadn’t even really considered – be it needles sliding through my nipples, anal fisting, an unanticipated fist-my-girlfriend-for-me ‘threesome’, or (in this case) sounding.

“You’ll probably want to, you know…” He said, off hand, as he smoothed out a blanket on his bed and then started to undress. He was right, of course – the high I was about to get from watching him squirm as the sounds plunged into his body would eventually arouse a primal hunger within me, the sort that could only be sated by biting into the unknown. He knew it, and I suppose if I were being truly honest, I knew it too.

And so we got down to it. Paul, the wonderful sport that he was, had agreed to let me stick 16G needles into his foreskin. The thing about 16G needles is that they are pretty freaking big – almost the size of needles used for ear piercing, and much much bigger than anything a doctor would use for a shot. They also sport light purple barrels – a really pretty color that I’ve always found quite fetching. Most of the people I have every play pierced with have, at some point, turned down my offer of 16G needles due to their size. But I always ask, because you never know till you ask, and there is really nothing better than the groans they cause – long, slow, deep, sensual – and nothing more alluring than that cheerful purple barrel perched on top of puckered skin practically begging to be released into the dollop of red blood that always follows. But every good piercing scene needs buildup, so while the 16′s were beckoning to me in their crinkled blister packs I instead grabbed a green barreled 21 and announced to Paul that I was going to put this through his sternum.

Slowly and decisively, the needle slid beneath his skin. There’s not much flesh over the sternum on anyone, but Paul’s chest is particularly taut. I went as slowly as I possibly could, watching him intently as the needle slipped beneath his skin and popped free again, raising a welt in its wake. I followed up with two more needles, piercing through that same welt, making sure to find the path of most resistance -needles clashing into needles – while Paul uttered curses mixed with promises of retaliatory piercings in scenes to come. Paul and I always switched with one another, and our dynamic kept that push and pull prominent. This scene would inevitably serve as foreplay for the next, when the tables would be turned and I would come to regret some of my meaner needle tricks.

Soon enough, however, the air became heavy as we slipped into our roles, temporarily leaving the sparring behind. I pinched his foreskin, pulling it up away from the glans, eyeing the landscape and planning needle placement. I started him easy with a 21G needle, slipping it through at an angle so that the barrel sat off to the side but hovered over the head. Paul’s breathing deepened dramatically as he zoned out, and I took advantage of the escallating high by follow up with two 16G needles, placed so that the three needles circled his cock head as three points on an equilateral triangle. I spent time lingering over him, pulling the needles to and fro while twisting, and using them as handle to stretch his foreskin up higher and higher. His breathing, which was heavy to begin with, became thick and deep as he threw himself into the sensations. Between gasps, he started to beg.

“Sound me. Please. Sound me.”

It took some serious self control to not pause there indefinitely, joyously pulling those needles again and again, reveling in the begging and the gasping and the moaning. To do so would have been outside the bounds of our agreed upon scene, and besides, part of me was thirsting for the main event. But it was delicious and I did pause, aching deep within as he begged and begged…

Slowly and carefully, I lessened the play on the needles and brought him more and more back to reality. I needed him with me to give direction and feedback during the sounding, I couldn’t just send him into space and drive however I pleased. It was impressive to witness his ability to teach while hovering at the edge of ecstasy, showing me how to lube the sound and how to slip it into his eager and hungry cock. He was barely keeping it together as he let is drop down slowly, with only gravity aiding its descent, and he gasped and shuddered as he pulled it back up, the dropped it down, then back up and slowly out again.

“Please. Sound me. Please”

I took the wand from him, and carefully dipped it into a fresh package of surgical lube. His heavy lidded eyes watched me intently as I placed the rosebud at the mouth of his urethra. Without any resistance, or any real effort, the sound entered him, his cock gulping it down hungrily like a deep throating porn star. My hands, inwardly shaky, steadied the sound as it was gobbled down his greedy cock. I struggled to take it all in while remaining composed and in control; the feeling of the sound being pulled down his cock was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. As I watched, Paul succumbed to the sensations and his body began to oscillate on waves of pleasure as I slowly guided that sound down, down, down, then up abruptly up once again, almost pulling free before dropping, steadily once again. His ragged breathing filled the air as he moaned in time with my movements.

“Please. Sound me. Please.” He moaned, as if in a trance. “Please…Bigger…Please…”

And before too long, I was guiding the largest of the three he’d selected into his ravenous cock, watching in a trance as the bulge of the rosebud slid slowly down his shaft. Lost in his own world, Paul continued to beg, his gasps rattling out “Please” as my increasingly confident manipulations of the sound brought it down as deep as it would go, then up again to the tip, and then in and out of the tip – teasing, testing…

“Please…Please…”

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Posted by red on August 28th, 2012 in Pregnancy, Uncategorized

When I got my nipples pierced, years ago, no one told me what sort of effect it would have on my future breastfeeding career. This is not surprising, of course – why on earth would such a thing come up. People (or more specifically women) getting their nipples pierced probably aren’t anywhere near the breastfeeding stage of their life. After all, if you’re contemplating breastfeeding, getting a nipple piercing is counter intuitive because you need to remove piercings to breastfeed, and that’s not something you want to be doing to a piercing that is not well seasoned and healed. And to be honest, even if it did come up, I’m not really sure I would have cared all that much – I really wanted pierced nipples, and nothing was going to stop me.

A few months after being pierced, I removed the barbell from my left nipple. My reasoning was twofold – first off, it was crooked and that really bugged me, and secondly my once stoic nipples had become incredible wusses, which was a problem because I like rough nipple play. So, one pierced and one ‘au natural’ seemed like a nice happy medium and I rocked that look for many years. And then, a year ago, in the midst of my first trimester of pregnancy my overly sensitive nipples got to be more than I could take and I bit the bullet and removed my remaining nipple piercing. This was a big deal for me – it signified the fact that I was giving up something I had chosen for my body; throwing in the towel, so to speak, and giving in to the inevitable chaos having a child throws one’s world into.

Anyway, fast forward to three days after my daughter was born and there I was, with massively swollen, hot and tender milk filled tits and a baby with a weak suckle who wasn’t doing a proper job of draining them. I’d shower and milk would spew everywhere out of my long ago healed left nipple, but then would only dribble from my piercing holes on my more recently barbelless right nipple. After a day of some feeding, some pumping, and a little bit of cooling it on the milk production my left breast had softened somewhat from its swollen rock hard state, but the right one? It was even harder, and now it had lumps. Uh oh.

So I did what you should never do when you have a health OR baby related question. I hit the internet. And about an hour later, I was sure I had done irreparable damage to my nipple by having it pierced, causing scar tissue to block milk duct outlets.

I got a little depressed about this. I loved my nipple piercing when I had it, and yet, it seemed like it was the worst choice I’d ever made. What kind of reckless fool was I when I got my nipples pierced? How could I have not known about the certain doom awaiting my future breastfeeding career. Speaking of which, I was clearly a failure as a mom and was going to have to feed my baby formula (which totally smells like ass by the way), not because of a legitimate reason (and there are many legitimate reasons) like a naturally low supply…nope, because I’d had a nipple piecing.

I was, perhaps, a little hormonal as well, which didn’t help anything.

And then the funniest thing happened. I saw a bunch of lactation consultants and none of them thought my nipple piercing was a problem. One went so far as to say that the unnatural hole in the side my nipple was helping milk drain better. As it turns out, like many mom-baby breastfeeding pairs my daughter and I hadn’t really worked things out properly. I helped her learn to suck, I started using about a million pillows, and I learned how to hold her. She, in turn, finally woke up, shook off her jaundice, and started eating with terrifying voracity. My right breast finally drained and for at least part of the day I wasn’t sporting hot-hard tits anymore. That is to say, things worked out.

In the weeks and months that have followed, my daughter and I have hit our stride. My left nipple, barely scarred from its short lived and crooked piercing, delivers high speed milk, and lots of it, to my daughter when she’s ravenous. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve hosed her face mid feed when she’s pulled off to get away from the sheer intensity of the stream. This nipple elongates to look like the nipple on my daughters bottles, and it spews almost as readily as those artificial feeding devices. It’s the feeding side, the one I put her to when its been a while since her last feed and she’s got ‘that look’ in her eyes. Conversely, my right nipple (whose piercing healed very well in the many years it was in place) still bears “exits” on its sides where milk leisurely dribbles out at a slow and steady rate during a feed. It is larger too, by about 5mm in diameter, and when it gets sucked on it lengthens unevenly, the area with the scar tissue remaining about the same size while everywhere else narrows down. I call it the pacifier side, and that’s truly what it is. I pull it out when I need her to nurse to a sleepy stupor, or when she’s needing comfort instead of a big ol’ milkstravaganza.

And so now, looking back, I feel I have realized something important. Sure, no one ever tells you that having your nipples pierced can cause soul destroying doubt in the mind of the hormonal and sleep deprived first time mother, but by the same token no one ever tells you that having your nipple pierced can transform it into a natural pacifier to act as a foil to the other one, the ‘feeder’ one. I’m glad no one ever said anything, because perhaps I would have thought twice about my nipple piercing, or would have taken it out sooner. As it is, however, the modification I did to my body when I was younger and simply interested in appearance and sensation has resulted in one of the best ticks I have up my sleeve as a mum. I get to choose between a fast feeding and a slow, leisurely, pacifying one. I always have a pacifier on hand for those times when my daughter has a meltdown. Forget those plastic ones that end up falling on the ground all the time, what I have is far superior. And I wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for my nipple piercing.

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Posted by red on June 19th, 2012 in Pregnancy, Uncategorized

Life threw me a curveball.

A few months ago, I delivered a beautiful baby girl. She came early and fast and frankly, I was not ready…although is one ever REALLY ready for a child? Its been a wild ride full of strange and wonderful adventures, but somewhere along the line my libido checked out – like fully vanished. I knew this was a possibility but I never thought it would actually affect me. Very strange.

It feels like the last thing in the world I feel like I have time for is relighting my fire – it’s challenging balancing being super mom with work while leaving a smidgen of extra time for myself and for my marriage…the kinky deviant inside of me is going to have to do without for a while. That’s just how it is.

And yet I know the reemergence of my inner freeek is only inevitable. Even now, the dreams I have are wildly kinky at times. And late at night, while I try and fall asleep, I keep fantasizing about breastmilk spraying scenes. Its an odd balance.

So yes, I am still here. I still have stories to tell. I still have one or two products to review. But I’m busy being a mom right now and that’s part of me I am probably not going to share. I’ll get back to this, slowly but surely, as I get better at balancing my time (and get more and more sleep).

But right now, you don’t want to hear what I have to say, because its mainly about cloth diapers, breastfeeding and pumping, baby sleep patterns and teething. Because, seriously, who needs yet another mom blog?

3 Comments

Posted by red on February 20th, 2012 in Not So Awesome Sex Toys, Sex Toys

Whatever you do, do not buy the Picobong Mahana. In short, it hurts like a motherfucker.

I got mine from Babeland in exchange for an honest review, and a few short months later they are no longer carrying it, which I imagine is due to the fact that it sucks so hard its very presence in their catalogue was harming their reputation. Fortunately they offer a variety of other awesome vibrators that do not suck for your jerking off pleasure, and literally ANYTHING will be a better option.

But back to the Mahana. What’s so horrible about it, you ask?

Well…

1) It’s rigidly C shaped, in some sort of we-vibe rip off attempt without any flexability. How its supposed to be positioned is beyond me because attempting to get it into place hurt. Badly, actually.

2) It takes two separate batteries for each of its motors, and the controls individual as well. So that’s double the on switches and double the off switches. Oh and if it could actually be inserted into place, the controls for the inserted arm would be, well…inserted.

3) Batteries are loaded in by simply unscrewing the silicone potion from the plastic. This is great and all, till you realize this seam is inserted and thus gets saturated with juices. Clean up is NOT a breeze.

4) The rigid C shape is so terrible, it makes me wonder if someone who’s never touched a vagina came up with the design.

5) Each motor runs on only one battery, and surprise surprise they are lame and buzzy and frustrating.

I suppose this toy could work for some, but to me its just such a miss it makes me wonder how Lelo could fuck up so bad.

So do yourself a favor – avoid it at all costs.

8 Comments

Posted by red on February 20th, 2012 in Uncategorized

I love my hitachi, and that’s no secret. Its pretty much damn well perfect as is, even with its faults (the noise, the horribly porous head…) but when a new hitachi cap crosses my radar it always peaks my attention. So when Babeland offered the deluxe G-Spotter in exchange for an honest review, I just had to give it a try.

In A Nutshell: A wonderful g-spotting hitachi cap.

What’s Awesome? The soft silicone allows it to mold to your shape perfectly to allow transmission of the intense hitachi vibrations directly to your g-spot

What’s Not So Awesome? Not much!

[Rating:5]
Continue reading this post…

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Posted by red on November 12th, 2011 in Not So Awesome Sex Toys, Review, Sex Toys

Good Vibrations Sex Toys sent me the latest and greatest in the world of Smartballs – Fun Factory’s Smartballs Teneo Duo in exchange for an honest review. Admittedly, I was *terribly* excited to get these bad boys and stuff them in my cunt.

You see, a long time ago when I was brand new to sex toys, the original Smartballs rocked my world in every way imaginable. For reasons I really do not understand, that first set of Smartballs (which I still have, although they are certainly looking bedraggled) is a highly stimulating anomaly in the world of smartballs. I have picked up two replacement sets over the years, and they just feel like nothing-nada-zip.

I first theorized that perhaps the different colors (my first set was black and silver, second set pink on pink) were to blame for my replacement set feeling like nothing (differences in material density, or something), but I actually purchased a new set in that same black and silver and still: numb-nuts nothing. This has led me to conclude that Fun Factory somehow changed their Smartball design after 2005, and now they suck.

Sadness, right?

Still, this experience has left me with the belief that this idea of Kegal balls can work, and has led me down a mostly bitter path of seeking something that perhaps doesn’t exist anywhere but in pre- 2005 Smartballs (seriously: what. the. fuck. is up with that?). So far, I have not found anything that works for me – even the extremely popular Lelo Luna beads left me numb.

When Fun Factory came out with the Teneo Smartballs range, I basically hoped beyond all hope that Fun Factory had taken that awesome pre-2005 design (whatever it was) and had moved it to this newer version of Smartballs. But alas, this is not the case. These Smartball Teneo Kegel Balls, as Goodvibes likes to call them, just make me feel like my vagina is broken and/or cavernous, like every other set of veg balls I have tried (except, of course, my 2005 set of Smartballs). No amount of clever positioning helps – they just don’t really ‘jiggle’, and without jiggling, there’s no stimulation. Lame.

Of course, the Smartballs Teneo does feature some nice perks above and beyond classic smart balls (any many of the other vag balls on the market). They’re silicone, even retrieval ‘string’ so they can be boiled for effective sanitization if you’re so inclined. They’re on the bigger size, as vag balls go, so they’re more likely to be stimulating (because apparently they work well for other people) if your vagina prefers a bit more fullness in general. And heck, if you’re worried about the two balls being too much, they also come in a single ball version as well. Gotta like that. Conversely, if you have small pussy syndrome, these may not the the best option for you.

Anyways, thanks to Good Vibrations Sex Toys for letting me give Teneo Duo a try; too bad they didn’t do it for me at all. I know there’s nothing wrong with my vagina, because it is capable of all sorts of magificent, amazing and wonderful things, but like most vag balls these ones have left me feeling that “Daymn, what’s wrong with me? Am I cavernous? Lacking nerve endings?” feeling. What a bummer.

[Rating: 2]

12 Comments

Posted by red on October 30th, 2011 in Review, Vibrator

Babeland sent me a fabulous rechargeable vibrator in exchange for review.

What’s Awesome? Slick colors, sophisticated styling, completely waterproof and rechargeable and easy to use.

What’s Not So Awesome? It’s loud, and the charger is huge

[Rating:4]

9 Comments

Posted by red on September 6th, 2011 in Pregnancy

Sex is fabulous in all its various permutations but it of course serves a biological role as well – reproduction. Roi and I decided it was time to give the great adventure of parenthood a try was back in January of this year and, as he put it “we pulled the goalie” – which in my case was an IUD.

Let me tell you, making a baby was not tough. It was, in fact, pretty darned fun. It didn’t happen as fast as I thought it might, and I’ll admit to getting ever so slightly worried when a few months passed with no luck…but then it came together and its been a whirlwind ever since.

Pregnancy has been confusing for my body. My doctor very kindly prescribed no sex and no orgasms after a touch of spotting a few weeks in, and by the end of that month my body was literally sobbing for sexual contact, but my mind was pretty settled chastity I was surprised at how rapidly my rapidly developing mothering instincts booted the sexual deviant inside of me back as far as possible into the neither reaches of my consciousnesses. The worst part about the whole thing was that the physical things otherwise happening to me were exquisite. My cunt seems more aroused all the time. My nipples have taken to being acutely sensitive and rock hard all day long. My clit begs for attention and seems ready to blow at the slightest of touches. In short, when my doctor ordered a sex free diet, my body rebelled.

I survived, of course. That month has long passed and I am back in the saddle again. I am cumming differently – I squirt so very much right now, and my clit is not very interested in heavy duty hitachi action, or any real direct vibration for that matter. I just want penetration, and lots of it, pretty much all day long. Perhaps its just the phase right now, but I am insatiable. And my nipples – good lord, how they ache. I pulled out my nipple piercing in anticipation of breastfeeding, and also, because I couldn’t handle the added sensitivity in that one nipple.

Changes will continue, I am sure, and perhaps my sexual appetite will wane. All I know is, I am so ready to kick back, relax, and enjoy this amazing journey. Wish me luck!

2 Comments

Posted by red on June 30th, 2011 in Uncategorized

When I started writing here, I was oblivious to a lot about myself. Through my writing, part of me found a voice that was previously silent, and I really ran with that for quite some time. But it’s different now; I don’t use this space and that voice is silent once again and that confuses, concerns and also somewhat soothes me. It’s confusing, because I want it to be the same as it was and it just can’t be. Concerning, because I once thought that my personal definition was deeply entwined with the part of myself expressed in these diaries. Soothing, because…well….things have changed. My needs have changed. I fear I am fooling myself into a mundane lull but at the same time, I can’t help but enjoy letting go of this thing that used to take up so much of me and my time.

It’s trouble, however, and I am fooling myself. I deeply miss running loose in the sex positive world and I’m terrified whenever I think about how ravenous my kinky self will be when I finally let her out for a romp on the wild side again, and yet I keep that part of me tucked away deep and close at all times. What’s my deal? It’s nothing special, nothing unique – I’m busy, work is going great yada yada yada. And it’s true – I constantly wish there were more hours in the day to do more work and my work, my friends, is not at all sexy. Classic right? Not enough hours in the day for responsibilities, let alone the stuff you actually want to do.

A problem has emerged from this non-voluntary apathy towards my sex positive self , however. I have been completely monogamous for over a year now, which is totally fine and feels like the right thing right now – but it also means I am not talking about being poly all that much and my marriage has been lulled into a sort of poly-apathy. The discussions only get rawer and rawer as this continues, it seems, almost like it was back when we were first talking about poly, before ever diving in in the first place. Maybe this is just our process, who knows, but I can’t help but shake the feeling that if I don’t keep it as an active issue, it will be removed from the table between us, and although I’m feeling mellow about the whole thing right now nothing will change the fact that I am poly. Things will not go well if this issue is pressed; I know myself well enough to get that, and Roi knows it too. Its complicated and interesting – to me, at least – maybe me being actively poly is a key ingredient to harmony in my household with Roi. It was a reality for the majority of our life together.

Anyways, this blog, it seems, is still a useful outlet. Maybe some day I’ll think of something sexy to write.

2 Comments

Posted by red on April 28th, 2011 in Awesome Sex Toys, cunt toys, Review, Vibrator

it

Glorious, isn’t it? The Lelo Soraya is really something that is beyond all compare – beautiful curves, bold lines, glorious craftsmanship.

What’s Awesome? Everything about this toy is awesome, make no mistake. There is no way to knock this toy on any feature, because it does everything you might want it to do.

What’s Not So Awesome? The price. I just can’t go over the top in my ravings about this toy because the MSRP is just so danged high. Worth it, yes, but a total splurge.

[Rating:5] Continue reading this post…

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