Monday, June 25, 2007


He told me once the reason he spends so much time in the gym is because he's sexually frustrated. He works it off, there. Goes home too tired to worry about the attention he's not getting, the attention he's not giving and he's okay.

Me? Not so much. I've tried that. Stretching, bending, lifting, moving until my body feels like jelly. And as I leave the gym, feeling the warm fatigue in my muscles. I make my way home and strip, stepping into the shower, letting the water wash away the excess heat leaving me clean and fresh. The little fingers of water dripping, sliding down my flesh like a lover. And I want to fuck more than ever. The next day as my muscles cry in pain, I become hyper aware of my body. Proud of the way the muscles ache, the way my body moves and I want to share the new strength, the new stamina with someone else.

Yeah, going to the gym to work off sexual tension just doesn't work that way for me.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007


So at some point I'm going to have to change my blog's name to "masturbation blog" or something since I'm just not getting anything else anywhere at all. Gah.

There is a terribly cute guy who comes into my work roughly once a week. He's provides my company a service. A particularly... shall we say... grim service. However, he doesn't wear a uniform and generally has a cell phone glued to his ear. So when he walks in I'm immediately struck by how hot this smiling man is. It's only when he talks to me that I recognize him for being who he is, instead of just a spectacular looking man. As soon as he leaves the building I find myself giggling and telling all the girls how hot he is. They all agree.

I find it really sad that I literally see an average of one guy a week to get all giggly about. And it's always the same guy! Percentages around here just aren't as good as they were on the military base.

Yesterday morning, on a whim while husband was in the shower I decided to masturbate. I wasn't really into it and he'd already been in the shower for about half the time he usually spends, leaving me about two or three minutes to get off. I touched myself for a little while and was at the point where I needed to cum but wasn't even close. And time was running out. I grabbed my dildo and used it. I've almost exclusively been using nothing (a contributing factor to my less than stellar orgasms) or my smart balls (which just aren't as good as a fake or real cock). If I didn't set a record with the speed and intensity of that orgasm, I'd be surprised. As I enjoyed the final spasms of my orgasm, husband turned off the water. I waited a moment before putting away the dildo and quietly going about my day.

But I was left annoyed that I have yet to reach the level of comfort to cum so quickly with a man.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

I ache for you.

I miss the feel of your lips, your tongue. I ache for the feel of your hands on my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I crave the way your cock filled me leaving me gasping, filling my need making me want more, unable to hold more. I lust after the passion I felt with you. The way our bodies moved together, perfect rhythm.

I ache for you.

Sunday, June 10, 2007


I hate quickies. I hate rushed orgasms.

Typical woman, right?

For the last month or two Husband has been at home at all the same times I have been at home. And while his masturbation has been something I've long been willing to share with him, mine I tend to keep more private. When I'm alone it's generally just easier for me to get off. I can watch whatever gets me off on the computer... or read a story and not feel like I'm short changing my lover. It's all about complete and utter selfishness on my part, sometimes.

So I'm finding it really frustrating that I have time to masturbate furtively and quickly, but don't have time to really spend on myself, getting myself hot, wet, and excited. I don't get to use my toys and cum with any noise. It's reduced my masturbation to being very occasional and very, very functional. Just enough to get my by until the next time.

And I hate it.