HNT: Hint of Lip

Now the observant among you may notice that this is one of the shots I used when I was the mystery guest a couple of months ago - but it never appeared here. I really liked this shot at the time because of the hint of bottom lip.

I apologise for the laziness of not creating a new HNT this week, but god, this working full time thing is utterly exhausting. I am just cooked lately. Lame, I know, especially to those of you that have always worked - but give a girl a little time to hit her stride. I am finding the adjustment hard, especially during this internship where they pile the work on and just expect it done (on weekends, in evenings and in the early morning).

I feel like I owe apologies to many people lately: I have been able to keep work life together, and I have been able to keep hubby and kid obligations met to a certain extent - although I confess to more than a few late nights at my desk. But I have been a terrible friend, a bad blog friend, reader and commenter, a bad email correspondent and an appalling housekeeper lately. I am trying, I really am - but I still have unreturned calls, a full inbox, I still have not made it around to most of last weeks HNTs and I still have a dirty floor.

To those of you who have felt my neglect, I really do apologize.


Do drop by and visit Osbasso this lovely half nekked Thursday and see who else has got something to share...and don't forget the other HNT.

Unprotected 3: Challenge

There has been a lot of talk in the blog-o-sphere lately about safe sex. Maybe I am particularly attuned to it because of what I read on From There to Here recently- if you haven't I suggest you check it out. It is a tragic cautionary tale to all us sluts and adulterers, or more realistically - everyone (Note: you do not actually have to be a slut or an adulterer to catch something.)

And then recently while researching homeopathic remedies for my son's cold sores, I learned waaayyy more about herpes and cold sores then you ever wanted to know, including the terrifyingly high infection rate in the general population. The rate is something like 1 out of every 4 or 5 people, depending on the country you are in. Sounds high, doesn't it? Now think about how many people you have met on Ashley Madison. Not so pretty, is it?

It occurred to me that for a group of sexually adventurous, multi-partnered, poly-amorous and adulterous um...fuckers - we certainly don't talk about condoms, safe sex or any of these concerns very much. In fact, most of us adultery/open marriage/sex bloggers don't mention them at all - except very occasionally in whoops I didn't use one kinda way.

Now there are notable exceptions to this: I am pretty sure that both Hubman and Perv in TO throw it out there on a regular basis. I am also pretty sure that there are more of you that have mentioned it, but I am pretty sure I recall specifically these two fine gentlemen mentioning putting on a condom as part of their sex posts. To be fair to the rest of you, it is possible you talk about it as well and that I just pay more attention I have a higher than usual dirty interest in their cocks.

But two of how many? Let me tell you, I read quite a few sex blogs. I find it interesting how few of us talk about it, given that I am guessing that most of us are fairly religious in our condom use. I also find it interesting that the two who come to my mind as mentioning it are both men.

I am not going to review everything I have posted here - but I am going to go out on a limb and guess that I have probably never mentioned a condom at all, even though I am also guessing that 99% of the encounters I have described have involved them.

So, here's the thing. Why are many of us sex positive ladies NOT talking about condoms? Specifically, why are we not including their use in our erotic writing? Are we shy to mention them as we are sometimes shy to buy them? Are we afraid of talking about that sometimes awkward moment where we need to suspend the play to put one on?

It surprises to me that in the midst of this group of the most delightfully horny, slutty, sex positive, dirty bitches I have ever had the pleasure of meeting that there is a lack of talk about safer sex. After all, if we aren't comfortable talking about this, if we can't find the sexy or the tender in this area, then who the hell will?

Ladies, Gentlemen, those in between: I want sexy condom pieces and I want them now. You have your orders.

Love

If you have caught me after a glass of wine you might have heard me say that I don't believe in love. Or, more likely, you have heard me say "love is bullshit."

Not today. Today I believe in love.

My delightful 13 year told me the other night that he has a girlfriend. She is (gasp) a year older and (gasp gasp) asked him out. I think he is ever so slightly mystified by the whole thing, which makes it all the more delightful to his adoring mother's eyes.

In a flurry of nostalgia I just could not resist the urge to send my grade six boyfriend an email.

Among other things I said:

I have been thinking about you...my son just confessed to me tonight that he has a girlfriend and my first thought was 'how cute' - and then I remembered when we were that age and you were my boyfriend and how very all consuming and real it all felt. I was completely struck by the idea that he is now in that place.

I don't know if you even remember it or maybe it felt completely different for you, but I remember how strongly I felt and how that love felt just as real in that twelve year old way as love as an adult feels to me now and that I utterly adored you.

I reminded him of a moment we had. It was late fall and he was responsible for feeding a cat for some neighbours who were away and he brought me with him. We were all alone in the house and we sat on the kitchen floor and talked and talked. And then he hugged me to him, held me there, arms around me, side by side on the kitchen floor wearing our coats. We didn't kiss, we never actually kissed in fact, but that moment still ranks as one of the most profoundly tender I think I have ever experienced. There was more closeness and intimacy in that hug then I have felt in the beds of some lovers.

If I had written this email to a former lover they would have replied with restraint, with an eye to their current relationship and any problematic subtext in their words. They would have exercised the caution of keeping me in my place, at arm's length.

He replied to me with the honesty and sweetness of a 13 year old who loves. It's funny, but the reply came from the boy I knew, the boy I loved with all the intensity of those first feelings. I don't know who he is now, I have seen him only once - really more in passing - in the past decade or so - and, in fact, a friend in discussing this man's sense of morality and approach to life, said to me about him: "when he agrees with what I am doing, I know I need to re-examine my approach." But this reply, this reply was pure and beautiful and loving. Loving in a way only a thirteen year old can be.

I am not going to publish his reply, I want to hold his confidence. But the first line was: "I remember it all" and the rest of it hit me like lightning.

He transported me to a place I haven't been in a while. A place where love is beautiful and effortless and all consuming. A place where we allow ourselves our emotions without the never-ending subtext of our serious and thoughtful and sedate grown up minds. He brought me back to where love is real and true and unmarred by our expectations of failure and our assumptions about relationships and adulthood. Where love could just be love - not logical, planned and practical love - not love that makes sense and has an agenda. Just love. It was exquisite to feel. I wish that love still felt like that.

Yes, today I believe in love.

HNT: Landscape

Do you want to go for a wander across my landscape? If memory serves you won't need a map to find your way...


Happy HNT, my darlings! Drop by on Osbasso to see who else is playing and don't forget about the Other HNT.

Group Post: Dark and Stormy Night

It is, ironically enough, actually a dark and stormy night here. There is nothing I love more than a dark and stormy night.

It is the kind of night to be spent curled in bed listening to the rain - which is exactly what I intend to do. I tried to blog, but nothing was worthy of your delightful and dirty minds.

Instead I am going to lie here: windows open, eyes closed, naked between nice clean sheets and imagine a long overdue invitation from a lover...


I am certain that some of the other group posters will have much more than I have for you today, my darlings, do click through and check them all out.

Hubman: http://hubmanshangout.wordpress.com/
Veronica: http://anothersuburbanmom.blogspot.com/
Sheba: http://thekinkchronicles.blogspot.com
Amy: http://www.sexchocolateandredlipstick.blogspot.com
Britni: http://britisstillshameless.blogspot.com
Topaz: http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com
Fgsakes: http://fgsakes.blogspot.com/
13 Messages: http://13messages.blogspot.com/2009/09/lovers-heart-poor-mans-car.html
Barefoot Dreamer: http://dreamingbearfoot.blogspot.com/
Gray: Http://mygrayline.blogspot.com
Bdenied: http://cuckold-husband-bdenied.blogspot.com
Bri: http://theunequivocalme.blogspot.com
Dharma: http://wherewegetoff.blogspot.com/

Kudos to Veronica and Group Post

I don't know if everyone saw the wonderful series of "Flaws" posts this week inspired and suggested by the always-fabulous Veronica of Another Suburban Mom. If you didn't you should click over right now and visit all the brave, bold and beautiful ladies listed there that went the extra mile to share with us this week. Truly amazing.


We are doing another group post on the 15th of this month. The theme, as suggested by Veronica, will be "It was a DARK and STORMY night..." Drop me a line at polly_amorous(at)hotmail(dot)com if you want to play.

Also, I have decided to add the adult content warning to my blog. I am not sure how "adult" my content has to be to get nailed by the good folks at blogger, but two of my faves have been shut down lately (Library Vixen and My Life as a Southern MILF) and I don't want to wind up in the same boat. You might want to consider doing the same.

Happy weekend, darlings.

HNT: Truth

I have been feeling very fragile lately.

Such dramatic life changes have made me more confident in some ways, but I am also in the midst of what is essentially a year long job interview - and being under the microscope that much is unsettling. It makes you question yourself: is my laugh too loud? Is my shirt too low? Am I too much me at work, do I need to be something else? Am I what they want? Am I what anyone wants? Can I do this? A combination of scrutiny, exhaustion and isolation from your friends - both real and virtual - will do that do you.

When I pick my HNTs to post I try to pick the best shot, the most flattering, the sexiest, the one that will make you want me. I try to find the one that projects confidence, abandon, that will inspire lust.

But for all the confidence I try to project, there are parts I always cover, that I am not confident about. For some reason my emotional fragility makes me want to push myself - to expose the physical ugly spots that make for psychologically tender places. A pictoral overshare to match the verbal and written ones that the unfortunates are finding themselves barraged with this week.

This is not the me that I want to see...yet this is there as well. I hate that I feel weak, fragile and vulnerable. To me there is nothing more embarrassing then to be vulnerable.

I wish I had the courage to embrace the emotions about my body that my intellect tells me I should feel. And I try...I do try - I know that I look this way because I have given birth to several nine pound babies. I have the marks of carrying them across my abdomen - a silvery purple saggy road map. I also have the reminders of having birthed them - a slightly uneven set of lower lips, torn in my hurry to have my vagina emptied of the enormous heads of my extraordinarily bright and large brained children, sewn back together not quite as before.

I would like to take my feminist credentials and yell from the roof tops that these marks represent power and life and beauty - and I do at times. But I also wish that I didn't sag and stretch, that my vagina looked like it did before - that I had the body I used to have. Part of me truly feels that the Emotional Slut rejected me because of my imperfect and unsexy body. Part of me wonders if when I am riding you in bed you would notice, that it would turn you off. Part of me rejects it when my husband tells me my naked body is sexy.

Truth is not always pretty, darlings - but the truth also has a certain beauty all its own.


EDIT: OH MY GOD, I posted and then clicked through to visit some friends AND I discovered that Veronica of Another Suburban Mom has pulled some people together to do HNTs with "flaws" this week! And now I am not alone...
I am completely awestruck by this.

Unprotected 2: Trust

Risk. There are moments where it seems non-existent, aren't there?

I am a child of a risk averse time, but there are moments - there have been times - where all those teachings have fallen to the wayside.

Letting someone fuck you, just fuck you, in this day and age - with all we know and should know better about - it amounts to rather a large leap of faith. One I think that many of us take without real thought, we take it based on gut instinct and trust...and sometimes pure hormones.

I think we all assume that those of us who get caught, who - I almost can't bring myself to say it - catch something - we assume that those people are the stupid ones, the drunk ones, the ones who are making all those bad choices.

Even though we know better - even though we know we should - how many of us really make our new boyfriend (and by that I mean the legitimate monogamous kind that takes you to dinner, not the kind that wants to fuck you in his car after an AM coffee meeting) get tested for everything before we take the condom off? Truthfully, not as many as pretend they do. Because boyfriends can't give you something itchy, right? Girls who have boyfriends aren't sluts. And only sluts catch nasty stuff.

I have never been the kind of woman who thought sex 'felt better' without a condom, although I know most men seem to feel that way. When I asked my husband about the difference he compared it to the difference between wearing rubber gloves when you do the dishes and putting your hands in the soapy water. I also know women who agree - that physically, it is just different. Personally, I have never felt the physical difference; but, as I have recently written: emotionally, emotionally it certainly feels different.

If I let you fuck me, just fuck me, that represents an enormous trust in you. And oddly this is not a trust that I think we bestow with rational thought or logic the vast majority of the time. We may frame it in the language of logic, but it is really an emotional response. Feeling that someone will keep you safe. Feeling that someone will tell you the truth. Feeling that someone couldn't hurt you.

In relationships we often say we open up to people: we tell them our secrets, we let them see more of who we are. But we also literally open ourselves to them. We spread our legs, part our lips and allow them access to us: to our bodies, our wombs, our bloodstream. In doing so we allow them a certain access to our minds. As we allow our bodies to be vulnerable so do we make vulnerable our souls and our hearts.

A friend said to me recently that allowing someone that access to her body - the act of making herself physically vulnerable to him - that this made her more emotionally vulnerable. It means that when he fucks up, when he is dismissive or hurts her thoughtlessly, values her less than he should - it means that when that inevitably happens it is more of a rejection, more of a hurt.

When you trust someone, when you take a leap of sorts with them, hitting the ground can be all the more of a shock.

She put it to me this way: the physical risk aside...is the emotional risk worth contemplating?

HNT: Lust Letter

I imagine I can feel your lips kissing their way across my very low neckline...your hands sliding the straps off my shoulders...your mouth smiling at me as you slowly undress me...your eyes taking me in, drawing me into you.

Now I want to see you in person, feel you in person...on me, under me, in me....


Happy HNT, dirty darlings! Make sure to pop by on Osbasso and don't forget the other HNT!

Unprotected 1: Exquisite Vulnerability

The sunlight brushed over our bodies. We were intertwined: limbs tangled up in limbs, us tangled up in sheets, tangled up in each other.

My lips grazed over his shoulder, tasting the familiar saltiness of his skin. I could hear him breathing near my ear, his lusty murmurings enticing me further. The moment had captured me thoroughly - and I like to imagine that he was lost in it as well.

We were a mass of feeling: lust, lips, tongues, sweat. My legs wrapped around him, my hair a mass of blond against his sheets, his hips between mine.

There are instants when something just shifts, when the moment just crackles. Where you are on a different plane. In that moment he pushed himself inside me - no pause for protection, no barrier - just us. We hadn't discussed it, we hadn't planned it - it simply was. We had played the occasional careless game of in and out - but never allowing ourselves to take it all the way. We were in a different territory here. We had strayed close to the edges before, but this was different - this was deliberate and sober and in the full light of day. Eye to eye, chest to chest - full on fucking. Somehow we both knew that this particular round was going further.

I knew that we were doing it, that we were breaking a sort of new ground. That he was going to cum in me, that I wasn't going to stop him.

I bit my lip and arched up into him - I wanted to share myself with him, be with him in that moment. Be intimate, exposed to him. I relished the connection, the experience.

It doesn't feel physically different, but oh it feels different, doesn't it? I know it breaks all the rules: yours, mine, his. I knew it then and I know it now. It doesn't trouble me.

It wasn't necessary, but it felt right, felt comfortable. Perhaps I sought a connection, to affirm a cautious trust, to forge a subtle emotional link. Perhaps I was enticed by the idea of becoming more intimate with him...offering myself to him in a way I knew I shouldn't.

Perhaps I sought an emotional intimacy by crossing what I know to be a physical line. Trading my body in hopes for a piece of his soul?

Or perhaps lust and passion can just be lust and passion.

He looked at me - both of us moving into each other, beyond rationality in a haze of lust - but deliberate all the same. I teetered, so close to one of those incredibly intense orgasms that morning sex can bring. When I came I moaned in his ear, making more noise in the sunlight then I probably ever would at night. "Oh fuck," he gasped when he felt me cum around him.

Freed from my lust I watched him...outside of the lover's haze for a brief interlude. Now I was interested in his orgasm, his moment. He mutters a little while he fucks me - the closer he gets the more noise he unconsciously makes.

I could feel he was about to cum. I could tell how close he was and I relished it, wanted it - it felt damn good to be with him like that, to connect in that way - wet and sticky and just us.

When he came he pulled me ever so slightly closer...lying beside me afterward, both of us tired from our exertions.

I knew in that moment I made myself vulnerable. I created a space in which he could hurt me. I offered more of myself to be treated with the casualness of the occasional lover.

At the same time I craved the intimacy, craved the connection. Craved the moment.

Craved Him.