Monday, October 20, 2003


I'm feeling pretty stressed because Steve's mom will be in Texas to visit us in less than twelve hours, and my jaw hurts. So I'll write about something a little more pleasant, just to distract myself.

Sex it is!

Emode recently sent me an offer for a seven day free trial. I'm addicted to online tests (especially personality ones), so I jumped on it. Reading a ten-page analysis of my psyche after answering 50 or 60 questions is fun, and better yet, I can coerce Steve into taking tests too. Anything that lets me learn more about him is a good thing.

Anyway, Emode rates my sex drive at a six out of a possible ten. This is surprising to me -- I'd have figured more like a ten. I mean, sheesh, I'm a sex fiend. Three times a day sounds great to me. Is it any wonder I'm engaged to and living with an eighteen year old?

However, much of their score for sex drive was based off of things like having sexual thoughts about people at random, which I don't do. I'm very emotionally focused when it comes to sex, and I feel no desire whatsoever for men I don't have feelings for. Color me weird, or maybe just female.

We both took the Sexual Personality test. My results were pretty much exactly what I expected -- mainly that I'm very focused on the emotional (vs. the physical), touch (vs. visual stimuli) and non-verbal communication (vs. verbal).

Steve's results, on the other hand, surprised me. For one, he also came out on the emotional side, although not as much as I did. That pleases me, because every now and then he says something that scares me into thinking sex is all physical for him. The other surprising bit was that, according to the test, visual stimuli is more arousing than tactile to him.

Yes, men in general are more turned on by looking (which is why 99% of porn is male-oriented), but Steve never seemed that way to me. After all, he once told me he'd rather have an average looking woman who knew how to touch him than a really hot woman who didn't.

Anyway, after hearing those results, I asked him if I should perhaps get some lingerie. "Nah," he said.

That kind of surprised me, until I found out that his idea of lingerie apparently consists of crotchless panties and dominatrix gear. "No, no," I explained. "I'm not talking about Frederick's of Hollywood so much here, more like Victoria's Secret..."

He liked the idea then. So, if I can find any place that carries my size, I'll probably invest in some teddies or something. Heck if I know, I've never bought lingerie.

When I say, "carries my size", that is not to indicate I'm enormous. I'm not. However, it is incredibly difficult to find bras in my size -- 36DDD. Most bras with a band size of 36 only go up to about a D cup, and most DDD cup bras start with a band size of like, 40. Furthermore, I wear a size 7 panty, which makes a teddy proportioned to fit me non-existant -- I'm a top-heavy hourglass.

I have an awful time finding any kind of one-piece clothing. Swimsuits, dresses, etc., just don't come in sizes that work. My breasts are way out of proportion to the rest of my body, and it sucks.

Oh, well.

In other news, round two of condom sex happened today, and went amazingly well. I was horny and hopped up on pain pills, Steve hadn't got any for a couple of days, so we tried again and it actually worked. Yay!

The weird thing about this, is that he explained he was "basically fucking a muscle ridge". This is kind of amusing -- I do a ridiculous number of Kegels every day (1000+) and generally keep those muscles somewhat tense during sex, but an actual ridge?!

Well, he's got my old doctor to thank for that. Same woman who stitched me up just a tad too tight (don't ask) following my daughter's birth. I had minor bladder problems after my little girl was born, and the doctor advised me to do Kegels. "Do one thousand of them every day!" she said.

That sounded ridiculous to me, but I figured what the heck -- I could replace my standard fidgeting behaviors (biting my nails, tapping my fingers, jiggling my knee...) with Kegels. And hey, what do you know? It worked quite well -- not only did I stop dribbling when I coughed, now I can crack a walnut with my twat.

Okay, maybe I can't crack a walnut, but it comes in handy to have those muscles well-practiced. Once, for reasons I can't really explain (NOT lack of desire), I wanted Steve to blow his load in a hurry. I clamped down and it was all over in about fifteen seconds.

"I'm sorry I came so fast," he said.

I just laughed.

Banner love 

Okay, I'm lazy, but I did manage to finally put Heather's banner up, and now I'm in the process of replacing the rest of my text links to other blogs with similar banners. So, if I've got a permanent link to you, and you have a mini-banner I can use, please leave a comment (or email me).

Heather has kindly made a little banner for my site herself. It's very basic, but hey, it's something. I absolutely suck at doing anything at all with graphics, so it's a hell of a lot better than what I'd have come up with on my own.

However, I'm an arrogant bitch, and I'm hoping one of my readers who has a little talent in this department might be able to help me out. What I'm looking for is quite similar to what she's done, except to basically make it look like the writing has been scrawled in red crayon.

If you take the bait and send me something like this, I'll happily provide a blowj... err... permanent link to your own site. Yes, that's it.

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