its completely nipplelicious

Ha! I got you on the title didn’t I? That one was simply for attentions sake, and a bit of a “rub it in your face” to all those that have sent me nasty little emails. Yes, this site is inappropriate for children. It says that right from the get go. Of course, if you are going to click on “The day the Dildo died”, and then complain, well there you have it. Now that we got that little drama out of the way, here is my ironic story of the day.

Yesterday, after two weeks of not being able to drive, I finally became legal again. The man reminded me that you never know what you got until it’s gone. That is so true. I missed my green machine mini van so much. I spent the day yesterday paying fees out the whoo hoo, paperwork from hell, and driving hours to get this all done. I was so excited to be able to get back to work today believe it or not.

Then at 5:30 am I got those computer calls from the  schools telling me “no school” for the kids. Okay fine. I peek out the window and all I see is white. Everywhere I looked was covered in snow. Still no big deal, it is the snow belt after all. I decide to head into work two hours early to give myself plenty of time to get there without crashing. Well, I made it to the end of town (after gunning out of my snow filled parking lot), where lo and behold the bridge out of town is closed. Okay, so I make a U-turn and head for the other bridge. CLOSED!!

So now I was down to one road out of town left. It’s a doozy of a road, with curves for miles, and hidden drives, all on a good day. As I pull up to my one last escape route, the railroad tracks across it are covered in snow, four cars are stuck sideways, left  ways, and nearly upside down. There went that lovely idea, thanks a lot Storm of the Century. I put my car into park right there and called my boss to tell her the good news. She started laughing at me, and told me it was just my luck. My first day of driving freedom and I couldn’t even get out of town.

Moral is “NEVER GET OVERLY EXCITED, YOU ARE DOOMED FOR DISAPPOINTMENT” (and I don’t mean our sex life dear).

I’ve noticed that we as women get more sexually adventurous as we get older. Most women won’t admit it, and quite a few will skip right over this if they happen upon it. Not only that, but they will look down on me for talking about it, while at the same time be envious that I can.

When I was younger, sex was no big deal. With my ex, it was slam bam, in, out, and done. If I got any enjoyment out of it, I don’t recall it now. Back then, sex toys were something I snickered at, and the closest I came to foreign objects was holding the shower head close.

Now that I got not only my freedom, but my self respect back at age 31, look out here I come. I have learned there are different positions (although that whole upside down thing is a bit much for me, no matter how much we try), that having the lights on is a wonderful thing, and that I have a slightly twisted sex fiend that has been dying to get out.

There are lessons I have learned in my new found sex life. Most are fun, all are interesting, and some are lessons I will never forget. One prime example of this is the night the man and I decided it was time to try butt sex. (For some reason, I really dislike the word anal).  I’d like to say it was nice and slow, and that we eased into it. Well, he did, but my mind had other plans.

I had myself so worked up in my fear of the butt sex, that I decided it was like a band aid, just slam it in once, and the rest would be easy. I had also been doing “practice runs” myself, just to prepare. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT HOME!! After I slammed myself back in my attempt to help the process, I felt my stomach in my throat, the tears in my eyes, and the breathe knocked right out of me. All I could do was whisper “please,*breath* just*breath* don’t move, let me*breath* get used to it,”.

After awhile, all was good, and no you don’t get the juicy details. But even with the initial pain, the excitement of something new was well worth it. I think that’s part of why I share this with you. Maybe there are more women out there who are like I used to be. Women who know they want more, but are afraid to try. Don’t let that stop you, be an explorer, even if you do nothing but try one new thing this year. Do it, you know you want to. There are some temptations in life worth trying, you have to tell yourself “what the hell, let’s go for it“.

There are some things you don’t mess with in a woman’s life. Her kids, her man, her makeup, her clothes, and her money. However, there is something else you just don’t touch and that’s the shower. I’m not sure whether it’s hitting me harder due to stress, or PMS, but if I don’t get my water back soon and get my shower love time, someone is going to get hurt. Oh, don’t shake your head and look at me in that tone of voice, if you are a woman you know you do it too.

The shower is a sacred place. It’s mine. It’s where I go when I not only need peace, but “piece” if you get my drift.  It is now going on 6 days with no cold water, which means unless I want to burn a very sensitive important part of my body, no showers for me.  That crime alone should be punishable by death for the slum lord I rent from.

See what many men fail to realize is that we take long showers not only for the cleanliness, but for the release. There is a reason we make you go to Home Depot and buy the king of all shower heads with the 6 speed turbo jet. It’s not for looks that’s for sure.

I miss my shower, and with my attitude these days, I think the man misses my shower as well. The bath simply does not cut it. I am getting close enough to go rent a hotel room simply so I can take a 3 hour shower. I wonder if I need to have a discussion with the shower head first and get to know each other. Or is it something I can simply jump into?

I have to veer off track again for this post. Not that I have stopped veering, it’s just that it’s  still a work in progress. However, this was so funny I felt I had to share with the rest of the class.  The man has two computers at home, one desktop and one laptop, running a wireless connection off them both. Now, he is a very sharing man, always trying to teach someone something new, or handing out that knowledge he absorbs like a dang sponge. So when he noticed a few months ago that someone was pulling Internet off of him, he never said a word. He figures with the prices so high, he didn’t mind sharing his connection.

Then two days ago, a neighbor came to him asking for help with her computer. As he was helping her, she told him of another neighbor who was running around bragging that she not only was stealing the man’s Internet, but that she had all of his information as well. He knew that was false, the only information she could have was the network connection name. But her bragging about things, well that put an end to the shared Internet. There is nothing worse than someone who cannot keep their mouth shut about a free service.

The man spent a few hours re-configuring both computers from a shared network to a secured network. He renamed it, and created a new network name, one that he didn’t share with me. It was frustrating work, and took some time, but he finally got it.

Of course, what was worth all that hard work was when the Internet stealing neighbor ran to the other neighbor moaning about not being able to sign on to the Internet the next morning. The biggest insult for her was when she tried to click on, and the following message popped up at her:

 USUCK  Password______

The man and I started laughing so hard I about pissed myself.  I can only imagine her facial expressions to have her own computer tell her she sucks!! She apparently tried for quite a few times to get the connection to click, and each and every time she got the message that USUCK. So take that Ms. Internet thief, guess it’s time to stop being a mooch and pay for it just like everyone else.

Moral is: if you’re going to steal internet you should keep your mouth shut. Or perhaps try asking, you might be surprised. People can be nice when approached the right way, handle it like this neighbor did, and well people get mighty shitty about it.

So apparently sex still embarrasses and makes people uncomfortable. So much so that even my pay rate dropped here after a review. Are we as humans still that pent up where we cannot laugh at sex? I mean, it’s not like I actually showed pictures from my latest escapade. No, I simply shared the funny parts in words. I know I am not the only woman, or even man who had something hilarious happen from a sexual adventure.

How many of you had fallen off the bed in the middle of a romantic moment? More than will admit I am sure. Ever gotten walked in on by one of your own children? Luckily I haven’t experienced that one yet. Ever tripped over your own shoes as you forgot to take them off, in such a rush to explore that passionate side of your partner? It wasn’t my shoes I tripped over, but a wire.. Or how many of you have compared the bruises and scrapes after a long night of sexual activity with your significant other? I have, and hope I always will.

There is always going to be someone who is offended by sex talk. I get that, I even understand it. There are so many things I have experienced with the man now, that I guffawed at before. Things I said I would NEVER try. I’m glad I didn’t stick to that now on most of those things. I am very glad I strayed from grandmothers talk that sex is something for the men, and women just give it up enough times to keep them happy.

I enjoy sex. I will not deny it. I also enjoy talking about it. Not the nitty gritty details mind you. But the fun part, the part where someone reading this will say “Hey, I had that happen too!”. There is a line we all draw concerning sex and there is nothing wrong with someone not agreeing with me, or vice verse. Just don’t close yourself down completely when it comes to your own sexual adventures. Trust me, I had eight years where I laid there, took it, and got not one bit of pleasure. It makes for a very sad relationship.

Now is my time to explore, to enjoy someone who looks out for my excitement as well as his own. If we happen to stumble along the way, hopefully we miss the phone cord as we do. If not, you’ll be one of the first to know.

The following is a true story. Names have not been changed, since none of you know mine anyways. This is one of those things that goes down in history as the all time most embarrassing moments. Consider yourselves lucky because I am going to share mine with you.

It all started out innocently enough, well perhaps not innocently, but with good intentions. After years of denying myself, the man talked me into buying a vibrator. I picked out one of the normal looking ones, a nice pink one with a bullet in the end. Hey, what did I know, as long as the thing worked it could have been purple for all I care.

I got nice usage out of that “substitute” as we called him. Until one early morning play time. I was, shall we say riding vigorously, and all of a sudden I heard a “pop” and felt the sharp pang as my little toy bent inside me. The man says the look on my face was priceless. After carefully removing the vibrator, I inspected the damage. I had broken the bottom from the battery compartment, the wires were all showing, and it was broken in half. I thought I was going to cry. Only I could break a vibrator that badly.

Now, I was prepared to simply throw the thing away in the dumpster, however the man dared me to take it back to the store I bought it from and demand a replacement. I thought he was crazy. It was hard enough to go in there the first time around. Now he wants me to bring in a broken toy?!  Without giving myself too much time to think about it, I placed the vibrator in my purse and I went to work. Yes, I know you are thinking I am the crazy one at this point, but it gets better. So I work all day, and after wards head to the adult store right down the road.

I get in there, face red I’m sure, and tell the clerk I have a return. I pull the vibrator out, set it on the counter, and tell her “I thought these weren’t supposed to break!” She started giggling, and then I looked around the store. There were about 20 other women in there. Turns out it was a convention of sorts for fellow adult workers and store owners. They took turns passing around my broken vibrator, each one remarking about it in one way or another. One older lady, she must have been in her 60’s told me that the vibrator I had was one of the best in the industry and she had never seen anyone break it the way I had, nor in such a short period of time.(I had the vibrator for one month.) I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.

The discussion then turned into which one I should buy instead. So there I was, in the middle of an adult toy store with 20 or so women of all ages giving me advice, bringing out different vibrators, and the whole time I’m trying to sink into the floor as far as I could go.

All in all, I ended up with a newer model, and a request to let them know how this one worked out. I was also given reassurance that if this one broke, free replacement, with no questions asked. My broken vibrator has become somewhat famous now, I’m sure its sitting on some woman’s desk as a reminder of what NOT to do. The man has become somewhat more careful also. I’m sure after a few more years, he’ll let me be on top again….maybe.

Before I begin my posting, let me apologize for veering this blog off track for the last few posts. The whole purpose of this second blog was to celebrate the humorous side of sexuality. It’s time to get back on track. Thank you for those who have stuck with me and let the ride begin.

The other night I woke up and realized I had dreamt about the very last thing I wanted to. It’s a recently new fetish called “pony girl”. In my dream, not only was I the pony girl, but the man was parading me around my local mall as that. Nice one Nipsy.

This relatively new fetish is just what the name refers to. Women or men who are  put into submission and forced to act out as a horse. The woman or man usually wears leather harness gear specially fitted for a human. From the headstall, to a training bit for horse, down to a tail that has been …ummm, well placed in a strategic spot. Wikipedia even has a definition along with photos of this fetish under animal role play.

The “pony” then pulls her dominant around in a silky(a two wheeled wagon), or in some cases dons a saddle and has people on her back.  Puts a whole new meaning to the words “My Little Pony” now doesn’t it?

It’s actually all his fault that I even had this dream. He’s always finding weird little things on the Internet, and of course feels the need to share. With my extreme imagination, and ability to mentally picture almost anything, it was bound to happen that I dream about it. Of course, at no time in the near future do I plan on being a pony girl. Then again, there are quite a few things I said I would never do until I met the man. Let’s just hope that not only do I not act out the pony girl, but that my ex mother in law isn’t in the mall if I ever do.

*Side note* The use of the word force in no way refers to an unwilling partner, simply a submissive who is acting for her dominant partner. In all actuality, it is the sub who has the real power.

Alright perhaps having a photo capturing you walking out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to your foot isn’t the best way to start your day. Or having millions of fans read about your latest attack on a hotel maid for not bringing your fresh towels up might not be the best publicity. Of course none of us wants our most embarrassing moments captured on tape, audio, or film. Then again, most of us aren’t making millions of dollars per movie, show, or sports game.

I keep reading about celebrities who complain or even sue photographers for shots they take, because they claim an invasion of privacy. Here’s how I feel about it. I just spent $50 to take my kids to the movies, so if I happen to see  Harrison Ford inside a restaurant stuffing his face, well damn Skippy I’m taking a picture! Or if I happen to hear Julia Roberts on a cell phone complaining about her lack of fresh fruit as she curses out the maid, again, I’m taking a video of that.

Any person who knowingly gets into a business where they are going to become a public figure should have it figured out by now. You have no private life, none. Unless you make your movie, play your game, and go quietly home in the dark after losing the paparazzi in a crowded street.  You went into this business begging for fame, for acknowledgement. You wanted it. Now that you got it, along with multi million dollar deals, you complain? How dare you!

Don’t get me wrong. I do not agree with car chases just to capture a photo. Nor do I agree with photographers who sneak into homes, yards, or other various areas. But stop biting the hands that feed you. You don’t want the world to view your latest mug shot? Don’t be a criminal. You don’t want everyone to read about your latest failure at drug rehab? Don’t fail.

Sure, its hard having any and all skeletons come out of the closet when you become famous. But it shouldn’t be a shocker either. That’s what it means to have fans, to be famous. It’s all part and parcel, and every celebrity knew this when they got into the business. So suck it up, keep your pants zipped, stop the drugs and alcohol, sit back and enjoy your fame for the hard work you have done.

Honestly, there really should be a law to prevent your ex husband or wife from working in the same town you live in. Not only does my ex keep coming here to remodel an apartment, but its right around the corner from me. Highly irritating it is to get in my car, drive around the corner, and lo and behold there is that hated red Pontiac. I honestly don’t think I have ever hated a car more. And it’s not even the car’s fault, although I do hold it slightly responsible for still running and getting him to work on a daily basis. That car was just broken down last week, it go itself fixed entirely too fast.

I was thinking to myself this morning “Self, I bet he is extending this job and doing a really cruddy muck of it just to keep coming around because he knows it bothers you.” Yes I know, highly irrational of me, but there you have it. I keep holding possible scenarios in my head of ways to prevent him from getting here.  Both bridges into town getting flooded by the river is one. Or instead of a DUI checkpoint, how about an IDIOT checkpoint instead, one word out of your mouth and your car is instantly impounded and you head straight to jail, DO NOT collect $200 on your way past.

Seriously, he has been working on this one apartment on and off for almost 2 months now, it really is time to stop. Just go away already. Well, there you have it, my mini rant for the day. It’s almost time for me to head off to that lovely place off the freeway. You know, that evil little place we all call work? That would be the one. Have a great day all, and enjoy the little funny that I thought might bring in a chuckle or two.

I watched the movie Enchanted tonight, and I can say I actually liked it. Without giving away too much of the movie for those that haven’t seen it yet, it all boils down to the guy gets the girl. But which one is the question throughout the entire movie. It’s sappy at times, funny at others. I suppose the part that gets me was the girl waiting around for her prince to come.

Sorry guys, so not my style. I waited for years to settle down. The first time around, I did it the entirely wrong way. I barely knew him. Not saying it was all my or his fault, just how it was. I thought at the time, with all the pressure, I had to settle.

Now, I’m older wiser, and know that I deserve more. I quit waiting, and I quit searching. So when love finally did find me again, I tip toe’d into that one. Carefully analyzing every move, every word. It took me awhile to stop that. Granted, it’s not perfect, this whole relationship thing. But it’s mine, well ours I suppose if you want to get technical about it.

He’s not a prince, he isn’t in my life to sweep me off my feet with sweet nothings. He isn’t here to take care of me, or shoulder my burdens. It’s a give give kind of thing, and I like it just the way it is. So I will take it as such, and mold it into what we want, not some fairytale romance. I prefer the reality of it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly.