Sweet As Whole // 2:54 – 3:27

The Almosts seem to be a reoccurring theme lately with my sex life so lets talk about one I didn’t like as much as Mr. Taurus. Or rather, I totally did…if it just wasn’t for one giant personality flaw that spreads & taints literally every other part of him like a oil-slick shadow.

I won’t get into specifics because he sincerely doesn’t deserve a full entry to himself. Average everything, except for maybe personality. Which is also why he won’t get a nickname. He’s here simply to serve as a warning to any hopeful fuck in the pervert gallery reading this right now.

I don’t fuck bigots. I don’t care if you think it’s a joke, I don’t care if you “don’t know any better“, you’re over the age of 21, you really fucking should. I don’t care if you thought it’d be fine because your skin color matches mine or you think my sexuality does. If I even detect a hint of anything that would put you in the same category as a klan member or eugenicist, you and I no longer know each other. You aren’t and never were worth the effort. If you see me out, no you fuckin’ didn’t.

And I sincerely hope if this entry resonates with you, instead of being hateful about it (which we both know is your go-to), maybe try a bit of self reflection instead. Open up that big box in your brain that’s labeled “fears and insecurities” and take a good, long look. Then work on them because being a fuckhead towards people for shit they can’t/shouldn’t have to change is a bad cover for not loving yourself.

Secrets // 0:40 – 0:58

You know the thing that sucks the most about living in modern times? It’s not the constant threat of climate change or the assholes who claim to run this shit show. It’s how aware we’re made of ourselves. This shit would be so much easier if I didn’t know I was bipolar and just thought I was possessed or had demons in my blood and I should do cocaine about it. It’d also be a hell of a lot more entertaining for you, dear pervert.

On one hand, it’s incredibly helpful to be aware of and be able to manage it. On the other… it’d be a lot easier to be able to just say “Ooops, sorry ’bout it. Head ghosts are acting like assholes again.” Instead, in order to maintain the guise of being a responsible adult, I have to make speeches like this every time the fat glob operating this flesh sack decides to have a bad day/week/month/year/existence and someone new has been brought into the fold. There’s a lot of new mother fuckers strolling around my little circle lately so…

I’m writing about this completely unslutty topic with the hope that anyone reading it can (kinda?) understand why I might disappear in spurts. Or be totally different one day to the next. I’m out here living in the same shitty existence as everyone else while trying to lasso my own brain into behaving with only good fucks, caffeine & pot. The ability to take myself out of the equation without taking myself out is necessary sometimes.

So hi, I’m fuckin’ (certified, all organic, free-range) crazy. To the surprise of absolutely no one with any life experience.

Lucky you for fucks, I’m just middle ground enough to write up some new entries AND start looking for someone fun to inspire even more. Also, the proof reader’s cock is a sonnet.

ART IS DEAD // 1:12 – 1:17

I guess this is a Meet the Slut sort of post? If that (understandably) isn’t your thing, feel free to skip it, but I feel like maybe I haven’t accurately represented all of myself, which I’ll be honest bugs the fuck out of me. I’ve told you guys little to nothing about myself in order to maintain some small sliver of ever-fading anonymity. At this point all you know is I’m a fairly attractive (maybe) female with a pretty healthy appetite for fucking, who is married to a fairly slut-loving guy and maybe for some of you that’s enough. But I have a sneaking suspicion some of you out there on this beautiful invention we call the internet might like to see me as a fully fledged person instead of a easily choked out fuck toy.

This won’t be a life story type of spiel. More like a proper introduction and what to expect if you’ve been foolish enough to make it your quest to find and fuck me. A warning if you will, whether you take it as that is up to you.

I have recently learned to sum myself up as a sentient void that can only be filled with sex, affection and attention. Which is extremely accurate, but I also (obviously) love writing. Reading weird shit (bizarro fiction for the win). Head diving face first into anything that seems relatively occult. Horror. I fuckin’ love horror and sci-fi. One of my favorite things to do is to have access to a pool to jump in totally naked at night in the summer & just look up at the sky, trying to spot constellations & quietly hoping the aliens finally feeling generous enough to come take me & mine off this hellrock.

And I’ve made independent, amateur porn for 99% of my adult life. I think it’s partly what led W & I down this path and why we were able to skip a good portion of what couples embarking on this type of journey consider necessary testing of their relationship. Sometimes I feel like I brought all of this on by force of by having/demanding to keep the job I have. We were playing with toys in the bedroom by 4 years into the relationship, I had him ask to watch me play with someone else on cam (at “work”) by year 5. We’ve (for better or worse) successfully dealt with jealousy, mutual distrust, general bullshit most couples spend a lifetime focusing on and trying to get passed. And he’s spent the majority of this relationship being intimately aware of just how badly people want to fuck his wife and not just in my job.

I vaguely remember one time, extremely early on in our dating that was the exact moment I demonstrated to him exactly who I was. We stopped at a local gas station to grab smokes & snacks, he went in and left me in the car alone, keys in the ignition. Two idiots in the truck next to us, for whatever reason decided to try to talk me. When I ignored them they got out of their truck and with all the audacity only two drunk white dudes in the Midwest could have, got into W’s car. With one in the drivers seat, the other in the back I sat there annoyed and fairly shocked as an inexperienced-with-the-assholes-of-the-world kid. Bad pick-up line after bad pick-up line flew out of his ugly, idiot’s mouth while his friend laughed at his weak attempts to fuck me from W’s backseat. I anxiously eyed the door and the second I saw W step out, I gave them a heaping helping of bard-like Vicious Mockery, laughing in their faces at the pathetic attempts to woo me just as W came within listening distance. He stood absolutely dumbfounded as they spat back weak venom about what an ugly bitch I was, then noticing W slinked back to their truck to rev it in defiance of my rejection. I’d like to think that’s the first W realized, I don’t need him, but I definitely wanted him.

I’m regaling with you this story, dear reader, to do two things: show you I’m indeed a real human with thoughts, feelings (aside from horny) and a very big personality & to give you a little piece of insight: W isn’t the one you have to worry about in this hellish little match up you may stumble across if you’re lucky enough to be within fucking distance: it’s me. I’ll make you give up & cry long before he has to kick your ass.

Now back to your regularly scheduled slut stories…