Slut Addiction

This slut has a new addiction.

Surprisingly it's not chicks, it's not masturbating on camera, it's not ass play (ok, that's another new addiction and a subject for another post) - but the addiction we are talking about today is men who aren't total pricks. I gotta tell you, I'm breaking new ground here, bitches.

I have decided that I am kinda fond of myself, kinda fond of being treated with respect, kinda fond of being acknowledged as a human. Now, I think we can all agree that I have had my fair share of interaction with idiots - but I am swearing off of bullshit. Case in point: the Emotional Slut. He has over the past couple of years spent FAR too much time periodically stalking me via email and facebook and then defriending me and blocking me when he does not get the attention or response he wants, or just like, because. He is one sulky little bitch.

He periodically starts conversations with me on the pretext of being my friend or being interested in talking to me - these little chats quickly degenerate into: "so when are you coming to see me?" And by see he means fuck. When I say I am not coming to see him he defriends me, ignores me or gets bitchy with me. I mean, let's be clear - the only reason to talk to a girl like me is in hopes of fucking her. I am a single purpose object: wet, warm hole at your service. I mean, why would you even talk to me other then to schedule your next fucking?

You contrast to this to some of my more recent acquaintances - the Boyfriend and the Hot Blonde's Hot Husband, for example. These men actually talk to me - and not just about how I am going to get them off, although that is always welcome with men like that. To be clear, by talk I don't mean that we have a daily moment where we hold emotional hands, look deep into each other's eyes and have profound conversations about the universe and our feelings, but we chat comfortably via those handy little electronic devices: how was your day? what are your weekend plans? a funny thing happened at the club last weekend. There is a sort of mutual acknowledgement of humanity, of friendship...of the fact that we might have something to offer each other besides genitals. Men like this are actually somewhat of a shocking revelation. A very pleasant one I might add.

You should also be introduced to a man my friend has been seeing, we will call him Mr. Itchy. This friend of mine keeps getting this little thing called gardnerella - it is a bacteria of some kind and is spread via sex. She has had it enough times that she is pretty clear that Mr. Itchy and her are passing it back and forth. Mr. Itchy has a girlfriend - like a real one he sees on the up and up - and so he refuses to get tested because he "can't" get treated anyway. This whole itchy situation came to a head recently when my friend's doctor gave her a super-course of antibiotics to get rid of this thing once and for all and Mr. Itchy discouraged her from taking them because it might mean a stop to their fun, 'cause who cares how you feel if I can't give it to you hard?

Smart girl that she is she took the drugs anyway and flat out said to him "no more penetration until you get this dealt with". He pretended he was on board for a while, talking a little about the other fun non-penetrative stuff they could do, but when um...push came to shove as it were, he said, among other charming and delightful gems:
*"I am not 15, I am over dryhumping" (Um, are you fucking kidding me? I heart dryhumping big time - I think dryhumping is a lost art.)
*"You never get off when I lick and finger fuck you anyway" (Maybe you could work on improving?)
*"It isn't my fault you have painted yourself into a corner" (No one puts baby in the corner!")

The he called her a "cock tease" for taking the medication when she knew he wasn't ready to do so. I mean, really, the nerve of her not being legs open ready to get him off exactly how he wanted to be got off when he wanted it. Tease!

Like Mr. Itchy the Emotional Slut also gave me a hard time about my insistence on condom use, claiming that they just didn't work for him and blah de blah blah. Problem 1: any guy that averse to wrapping it up is a walking red flag; Problem 2: any guy who, even if he admits to liking it better without, won't wrap it up without complaint when you ask him to - total jerk.

There are many men who share this attitude towards women and access to sex. The Emotional Slut is one - you can just read him that way - he is the kind of guy that won't let it stop at a kiss, groping, oral or sex - he will always want the next step, always push to get you to agree to something he can tell is just slightly out of your comfort zone. He'll just do it and see if you stop him, slowly pushing you past your limits without asking and praying to god that you will silently acquiesce. We all know and have known guys like this - the guys who rub their cock all over you in a bar before you have seen their face, the guys who make you feel like you disappoint them by saying no.

Contrast the above examples with men who have recently been in my life: the Boyfriend, the Hot Blonde's Hot Husband and some other delightful lifestyle men I have recently met. The Hot Blonde's Hot Husband is a really good time and I am delightfully gathering the information that he is willing to do a variety of very interesting and intriguing things - a process I hope to continue. Aside from the fact that he is a really good time, it has struck me how very cognizant he has been of my comfort and consent - this may sound like a basic thing, a no brainer - but it really isn't. In my experience, the vast majority of men I have been with have pushed the envelope in subtle ways - not knowing whether I was open or not to certain activities they have crept forward and hoped to get further down the path - most men I have been with have been more concerned with their wants than my limits and have sought to move those limits as far as possible.

The Hot Blonde's Hot Husband and the Boyfriend have both, from our first meetings, been conscientious about possible limits - and to be clear, I don't mean they stop and say "Ms. Kimberly, I am seeking permission to touch your pussy now - is this acceptable?" - it is not even something so overt that you can put your finger on - it is more a way of dealing with a woman, a way of talking while playing, and a way of creating a tone and a space in which she can feel comfortable.

A couple of weeks ago I was out at a club with the Boyfriend and I started to feel sick from the moment we arrived - I had that chemical fumes induced nausea and brain fog that plagues us allergic folks - suffice to say I was definitely not my usual friendly and bouncy self. After a little while I realized that I needed to leave or I just might be that girl in the slutty dress barfing on the floor. And trust me, no one wants to fuck that girl. I said to the Boyfriend that I was sorry if I had disappointed him by not being more bouncy, more slutty, less out of it. He looked at me like I was a bit crazy. I also apologized to the Hot Blonde and her Hot Husband for practically bolting (and truth be told, being kind of a drag all night) and they were also very clear that it was a non-issue. Contrast this to the Emotional Slut - the first time we were scheduled to see each other I got sick and had to bail. I received a variety of bitchy, selfish and petulant responses: I bet you weren't really sick* you are going to have to work hard to make this up to me* if you really wanted to come you would*I can't believe you ruined the weekend* we'll see if I am still interested next time you make room for me.*

No, really, thanks - I am feeling much better now.

The irony for all the Emotional Sluts and Mr. Itchy's out there is that men who carry themselves like the Boyfriend and the Hot Blonde's Hot Husband are men with whom you are completely and utterly willing to play to the limit, push your limits, try new things and to engage in far more scandalous and dirty activities. I mean, let's be clear, the comfort zone shifts depending on who you are with and how much you feel you can trust them - if I am treated in a way that I know I am not a disappointment if I have to step back, that I know I am not going to be pressured to do things I am not comfortable with, or that if I feel like I have to take a step back I know there will be no recriminations - well, then with me there pretty much are no limits. In that situation there is no envelope to push, so to speak - it is (ahem) wide open.

My overall take away from all these men, some delightful and others not, is that I ain't taking no more shit. Now, I know that you would say: really, Kimberly, you take shit - you take more shit than any slut out there. Ok, yes - fair I HAVE taken shit - I have at times settled for crumbs wanting more, I have not spoken my mind to be more like-able and more attractive, years and years ago I would do things in bed because I didn't have the confidence to say no - I have been less myself and more what I thought was attractive. But no more, now I have a new bottom line: from here forward I am only going to be dealing with people that make me feel good and treat me with respect. I know everyone loves a distant guy, but really the delights of being with someone who is a friend, talks to you like a human and who treats you with respect cannot be understated. Frankly, over the past couple of years I have gotten to know men who I don't need to play games with, men I don't need to feign distance from or pretend not to talk to to have them be interested and who are a really good time. Seriously, I am a big girl now - I am not going back to games and bullshit.

From this point forward any game I play with a man is going to involve costumes and orgasms, not drama and manipulation.

Synagogue Lesbian Head Injury Part 2: the Lesbian Part

We each began a little bit of light play with our own men - sitting next to each other and slowly finding our rhythm. It took a few minutes to gear up, but clothes started hitting the floor before I knew it. She and I were side by side each kissing, disrobing and slowly being disrobed by the man we brought.

Now, I know I am going to sound like a frat boy here - but motherfucker, WHAT a body. No, really, there is nothing quite like the physique of a fit, attractive person in their early 20s.

She was spectacular.

That being said, the sight of her essentially perfect body did not make me more turned on by the experience. We had already connected and I had already got my hard on, so to speak, from the dynamic. That right, folks, the way you talk to me has far more to do with how turned on I am with you than than whether you are physically perfect. That being said, a young sleek animal in its prime is a young sleek animal in its prime and I can appreciate it for its natural beauty.

After we were semi-naked and thoroughly turned on we took a moment from our own play with our respective men and smiled at each other. There was still a hesitancy between us - a layer of reserve waiting to be penetrated. We looked at each other for a moment...assessing, we shared a moment of expectant energy and she leaned in to kiss me.

If there is one thing I have found about girls it is that they kiss gently. She curved her head to the side and touched her lips to mine oh so gently, lips apart, subtly running her tongue across my lips. Progressing from there to sliding her tongue against mine - softly and delicately.

I have rarely enjoyed a french kiss more.

Most of my lovers would probably tell you I am not a huge tongue kisser, but this was a moment for tongue. I think women know how to kiss they way they want to be kissed - I have kissed a few women now and non-scientifically I can tell you that none of them have invaded me with their tongue the way a new man tends to do. A new man tends to overwhelm you, moving quickly and aggressively to kiss the hell out of you...a new woman tends to take her time to explore.

We were both intrigued but unsure of ourselves in this new arena. Our kissing progressed slowly and safely - it didn't start as an intense lets get it on fucker moment. Neither of us really pushed the envelope or took the lead - we simply walked down the path together...hands on shoulders and waists, lips on lips.

By that point my dress was pushed both up and down (elegant!), leaving me topless and almost bottomless. She took the next step, leaning over to flick my nipple with her tongue and meeting my eyes with a saucy look when she did. I raised my fingers to rub her nipples and we moved closer together.

I lowered my mouth to lick her nipple and flick it back and forth with my tongue.

She leaned back and moaned.

Her boyfriend needed no more cue than that, he slid her panties off and spread her legs to lick her. She arched into my mouth and his - moaning as I kissed her lips and her breasts and he flicked her clit back and forth with his tongue. Add to the mix hubby lifting my dress to slide his fingers up my legs and the moment got pretty intense pretty quickly.

Her boyfriend sat up and began sliding his fingers in and out of her quickly and she arched her pussy up into him with every thrust of his hand. I looked at her from my position at her breast and raised my eyebrows "do you mind if I....?" I asked. "Please" she moaned.

I shifted my body to lick her clit while her boyfriend fingered her. I am not going to lie and tell you that I am a pussy expert, because I literally had NO clue what I was doing. But, I enjoyed the smell, the taste and the experience - I enjoyed stroking her with my tongue while I felt her her boyfriend finger fuck her. I enjoyed feeling how wet she was and hearing the noises she made.

From a purely selfish perspective, I also enjoyed the way she rubbed my clit while my hubby fucked me from behind while I licked her. I know it sounds like a convoluted position, but it worked itself out.

This delightful young woman got loud quickly. She moaned and even a woman of my limited knowledge of women could tell she was close to cumming. Her boyfriend added another finger, I increased my rhythm and soon she came explosively - screaming and pushing up into my face and her boyfriend's hand.

And that, dirty darlings, is my story of how one night in a synagogue two women found God...

Synagogue Lesbian Head Injury, Part 1: the Synagogue Head Injury Part

If I were to sum up our evening in one sentence, that sentence would have to be synagogue lesbian head injury.

Now given the lack of verb I appreciate that it could be argued that this is not really a sentence; however, I will submit that in this context lesbian could be the verb: I lesbian, you lesbian, we lesbian, he/she/it lesbians...that's right, bitches, a verb.

The Husband and I were visiting some family and we decided to take the time to do a little sex tourism on the side and check out the local swingers establishment.

Tarted up and ready to go we turned the corner as instructed by the GPS...onto what was clearly a residential street. Hmmmm, so now I am slightly hesitant. I am looking into dining room windows and passing kids toys in driveways and thinking: this place can't be between houses, can it? Thinking awkward, a residential street we forage ahead and then - then we pull up to the address listed on the club's website - which is a building that is very clearly marked as a synagogue.

No more hesitation here: full stop. What does a slut do now? I mean, I'm bold, but not quite bold enough to walk into what appears to be a house of god without any panties on and ask if that is where the sex party is.

We sat in the car for a few minutes, neither of us quite willing to walk up to the door. I mean think about it: if the wrong address is posted on the website this must happen a fair amount. I had images of the congregants turning their heads as a group to stare at the newest misdirected perverts. We drove around the corner to call - and what do you know, that was the place, so off we went to jump on the party train.

I am not gonna lie, I was excited to see what lay in store - after all, how often does one get to get their play on in a house of worship?

We got a tour from the owner who showed us how things had been changed from worship on your knees to well...anyway, the former alter area at the front was now the dance floor complete with mirrors and a stripper pole. What was once the first floor men's room was now a co-ed bathroom because the ladies were just not going downstairs to pee so you might as well label it properly. On the balcony at the back of the main room there were confessional booths with glory holes between them and with little curtains you can pull for privacy. (Hot tip for the guys out there: the owner assures me that if you are a dude being blown through one of those by a chick with glasses the combination of the wall of the box and the ladies' glasses make you lose a substantial length and your cock seems a lot smaller.)

Eventually we took a seat at a table near the edge of the crowd and started to get a feel for the room. On first observation the crowd was older - quite a bit older. To be clear, I am not some snotty 20 year old thinking that anyone over 28 is old. In fact, my preferred age range for men is 40s. This crowd was closer to 60 - and you know, I don't discriminate, if the chemistry is there the chemistry is there - but I'm not a who's your daddy type of girl. It is going to be harder to get me interested if you are in the father figure age range.

There was however, one Young Couple who kept catching our eye - casually dressed, seemingly low key, attractive. We eventually bit the bullet and approached them to say hello - they were new to the club as well, only having been there a few times before - so we commenced a pleasant and low key conversation. I thought things were going really well, but then the Young Couple jumped up and left fairly quickly to go to the bar and not in a why don't you come with us and we'll all have a drink way. I read it as more of a hell no I don't think so way.

It was our first feeling of being outright rejected by a couple we had been interested in and...not gonna lie, it felt a bit icky.

We decided to go sit on one of the couches on the balcony to regroup, I did some bending over sexy stripper dancing to entertain hubby and then I sent him to get me another drink while I assessed the room and whether there were any potential playmates in our immediate future.

The very instant hubby was gone the woman of the Young Couple joined me on the couch. She got right to the point: we have never hooked up with anyone before, I have never actually been with anyone but my boyfriend, would you be ok with just us making out and them watching and we could each fool around with our own guy?

Now, I have to admit my first thought was: oh fuck, I really don't know what to do with a girl when I have them naked! I have literally no clue. I have kissed a couple of girls lightly - a bit of tongue here and there - but I have never even felt someone up, let alone...um felt someone down. I was honest with her: that sounds great to me, but I have never been with a girl before and I have zero clue as to what I am doing.

Me neither, she said, but, it has been something I have wanted to try...

Ok, well at least I am not out of my lesbian depth.

Hubby was more than surprised to see us sitting together when he returned - his eyes asked me a million questions but he just sat down and joined in what was now a casual conversation. She went to talk to her boyfriend and I turned to the husband and explained her proposition...so, um, does that work for you? He smiled a Cheshire cat grin: um, yeah, works for me.

We went down to the play area - one that was strikingly less structured than other places we have been in: you did not need to disrobe to enter the room, you can wander freely in and out - and we found ourselves clothed and sitting next to each other in kind of an awkward now what moment. The Hubby and I now found ourselves the semi-expert guides among the novices, oddly given our own relative lack of lifestyle experience.

Given that they were brand new and somewhat younger than us we didn't want to be pushy and aggressive, we wanted them to be in their comfort zone about moving forward. I also found myself in a bit of an odd situation for me, I mean, I know how to pick up and seduce dudes...that I have figured out, but girls...how does one make the first move with a girl?

In my usual semi-retarded big mouthed fashion I tried to break the ice and make everyone a little more comfortable - I thought hey, leaping onto the handy sex swing and laughingly figuring out how it works, why not? And so I did - I jumped up into it in an effort to be playful and sexy and I thwacked my head on the top of it like a motherfucker. It made an enormous smashing sound as my head hit the pole - it is hard to describe, but it sounded a lot like my big stupid head hitting the metal frame of a sex swing. (Truth: I had a goose egg on my head for days). Vague dizziness aside, it did succeed in loosening things up a bit - we laughed like hell, made sure I didn't need stitches and there we were: ice broken, ready to play...