I read a fair amount of sex blogs.  I’ve only just started commenting because I have some modicum of anxiety about not being insightful enough with the things I say.  That said, one thing I’ve noticed about sex blogs is overarching themes of “cool” sex.  Of course, cool is a very subjective term, but I mean that these people are living the kinds of experiences you expect:  fun random hook-ups, well orchestrated polyamory, sex in porn, really sleek kink/BDSM scenes…  I totally don’t fit in with that.  I am in a (thus far) monogamous relationship with the love of my life.  (He is way cooler than me, but that’s for another blog post.)  We have awesome sex, it’s very special and it’s by no means vanilla, but it is very “us” in every way.

Take tonight, for example.  I got off work and Jed met me outside my office and we went for a lovely long walk and stopped to get some truly disturbingly delicious rice pudding.  (They let you mix flavours, so we had sucre à la crème, coconut, vanilla and rocky road…  Oh yes!  That is a thing.)  Then we walked some more and decided to stop by a sex shop to buy some rope (and a noggin scratcher, because it was nine bucks and the thing is orgasmic) to play with later on.  Sexy enough, right?  Well, we came home and he made me some delicious stir fried tofu/noodles (because he is a dreamboat) and then bought a membership to Nofauxxx, which I will be reviewing later this week.

Between snacking, cuddling and watching hot queer folks get down, we were ready for some prime fooling around.  He had to keep his socks on (in a non-porn, he has band-aids on his feet because of dance-related blisters and he didn’t want them to peel off during sex way), so I kept my knee high AA tube socks on as a gesture of good will.  There we were, undressing each other (except the socks, of course) and kissing and teasing and loving each other.  He is a bitey motherfucker and I am anemic, so I will have major neck bruises for the foreseeable future, but this is the price we pay for pleasure.

Once we were groping each other like a couple of horny fifteen year olds in our parents’ basement, he bent me over and started slipping fingers into me, rubbing my clit with his thumb and eating my ass.  (So not used to sex blogging because I am blushing like a madman over here.)  I, being the incessantly chatty bitch I am, was moaning and dirty talking with my face pressed directly against the wall we share with our neighbours…  Sorry?  Then he just flipped me over and pounded me through several intense orgasms until I was begging to suck him off.

At this point, we took a little breather while I got out the rope and started tying it around my breasts.  I have no experience with roping, no Midori book on hand and damned if I’m going to Google in the heat of passion, so I just kind of winged it and it actually ended up looking pretty good.  The rope was like 30 feet long, so Jed decided that I should tether myself to his cock by wrapping the excess around him like a cock ring.  This worked surprisingly well, giving me a little slack to tug at when I wanted to tighten my grip, which made him wild.

So, there I was, sucking and licking and kissing and tugging when I see ears peeking up right by the side of the bed.  Then quizzical eyes.  Fuck, the cat.  She jumped on the bed and gave the same look she gives when she wants some cereal.  Sorry, cat.  We don’t roll that way!  Jed grabbed the spray bottle we keep around for when she chews on our cables and shooed her away with a quick spritz.  He saw my involuntary jerk away and thought this was the perfect way to exert a little dominance.

He instructed me to keep sucking or he’d spray me.  So I did.  Then he told me to take him as deep as I could and then hold him there or else he’d spray me.  Being the freak bitch that I am, I loved this and held on for dear life as my eyes welled up with tears and my gag reflex taunted me.  Finally, I had to let go and I was righteously spritzed.  I attempted to get back to it, but the spritzing, the consistently intervening cat and Jed’s serious voice was making me laugh uncontrollably while trying to deep throat him.  That was not exactly a sexy sound.

When he decided I’d been a good enough girl, he laid me down on my back and started pounding me again, being rough with my tits and exchanging feverish statements of love and devotion with me.  (This is the guy who, having dated me for only a few weeks, exclaimed what beautiful children we were going to have together during sex one day, after all.  Good thing I already felt the same way.)  Being the lucky girl I am, I came a few more times and, when he was finally nice and close, he pulled out and brought me down to swallow his load.  (Don’t worry.  We get tested regularly, we take precautions for baby issues and we are open, honest and trusting with each other.)  Hot sex, my friends.

Then, we did what we usually do.  We cuddled for a while, got dressed and went for a late night walk in our beautiful neighbourhood to grab some diet soft drinks at the gas station.  Fresca for the lady and Diet Dr. Pepper for the gentleman.  Excellent choice.  We walked back, making inappropriate comments about how shaving your junk is good only in theory, swigging from our 2 litre bottles (Classy!) and pausing to kiss and snuggle at every corner.  Then we watched more porn and got off again because were are both insatiable, we spooned (him = little spoon, me = big spoon), he fell asleep with the cat curled up at his feet and I wrote this blog post.  All in all, another night in paradise.