Originally posted to Adult BackWash.

We got talking about boobs today. Right there at the check out we were checking out each other. Mine were the big ones, her's were the A cups, currently at least a B due to being a milking Mother.

She thinks her boobs are too small and make her less of a woman. I think mine are... actually I am still undecided.

Mine are, a DD cup. Don't think that's just grand or all it's inflated up to be. Big boobs are always there. You can not hide them, you can not get them out of your way. No, you just sit there and rest them on your desk. You can't sit there and let them slip under the desk line, that will soon begin to hurt and leave you with a red line imprinted on your dainty, tender skin.

Sometimes I like having big boobs. I do feel womanly, but I think I would feel the same if they were a B cup. Even an A cup would be ok really. They would certainly be perky and easier to cart around.

Small boob women don't know how we (some of us) think their perky boobs look so nice and must be so care free. How nice it would be to go bra less all the time if she chooses to. Big boobs can not go braless without feeling floppy. Also, you get that under the boobs sweat area which is not pleasant. At times I feel like a cow with udders. So a bra is a must, it keeps them feeling womanly rather than bovine.

Small boobs look pretty too. They look light and so much more sensitive than big boobs. My nipples will not stay erect for long. When I had somewhat smaller boobs I can remember the nipples becoming erect due to cold weather or other circumstances and they would stay that way and get tighter and tighter until they actually ached. That doesn't happen any more. Now I laugh at them for being so lazy. I can twist my nipples and hold them for a minute and within the next minute they are back to their usual lounging.

It's not that I don't enjoy and desire breast play. I do get aroused by having my nipples sucked on, nibbled, tweaked and the breasts themselves love being touched, fondled and licked. But, I have the feeling those nice, light perky breasts are feeling more than mine are.

In the end I let her go, thinking how much better it would be to have big boobs. Let her have her fantasy while I have mine. If she wants she can go for the surgery and get the inflated bust option. Myself, I will remain the same. Not because I like having big boobs but because this is me and the boobs are just a part of that.

Originally posted to the Sex Kitten's site, Valentine's issue.

Finger licking good.

Clean is most important, that’s just basic, good hygiene. Next, the width, the smoothness and any extra ridges and bumpiness. I watch his hands and wonder about his dexterity and creativity. Is he sensual, does he love doing it or does he just do it to get it done?

Do you ever look at a man’s fingers and consider whether or not he has good pussy fingers?

I do. I look at men’s hands, especially their fingers and wonder how they would feel on my skin. How would they touch me. Would they be gentle with barely there touches in all my most sensitive places. Or, would they be rough, massaging, tweaking and gruffly caressing me. Would they be the kind to nibble? Then, when things are going well and we are both aroused, how would he get from the boobs to the pussy. They all seem to do that. Like a "Guide to Women Touching" they have all read.

Still, there are so many ways to go from boobs to pussy. Does he dive in and not bother with the teasing, tormenting fun stuff? Not if you’re lucky.

I look at men’s fingers, random men as I come across them at work, at a restaurant, on the bus, whatever. Some fingers really do perk my interest. It doesn’t matter about the man who has the fingers. Some of them are old men, the type who have worked a lot with their hands and they don’t have pretty hands. Their fingers are not soft and slender and especially sensitive. Likely they have calluses if not scars. The thick working man’s fingers are the kind I notice most of all.

I will imagine them tracing softly up my thighs to skim the pussy lips and take a little dip inside. I daydream of thick fingers pushing inside, through my wetness and deep inside of my pussy itself, filling me with those long, thick, ridgy fingers. Twisting his fingers, flexing them and his thumb stroking my clit in just the right, slow way. Much later, after a job so very well done, I wonder, does he lick his fingers? Do I taste good?

Originally published in the S~K issue titled 'The BDSM Issue', 31 January, 2005

Sometimes BDSM is boring.

When you listen to yet another guy listing his fetishes, his turn ons, his kinky requirements, like a grocery list you will be expected to perform. When you read yet another erotica story starring the poor helpless man or the man who fucks everything and has a miracle magic cock that every female wants. When you read another discussion about the finer points of BDSM and the points become so refined they have lost any sharpness they may have had.

Sometimes people just think an idea to death. That's what BDSM is, an idea. It's not a religion, it's just foreplay which requires a little education. It is not about pain. If you bring that idea to it then that's what you have brought to it. It's up to you to wonder why and decide how you want to explore that fetish.

If you explore BDSM you will discover many ideas, attitudes and philosophies. Tell them all to bite you, most of them will like that. Go with what you want and make it how you want it. BDSM is not a religion, it should actually be something more enjoyable than religion. BDSM is for pleasure, that’s all. The only rules are geared to keeping it a pleasure for both (all) involved. Religion is far more complicated than BDSM should ever be.

Some people have the attitude that anyone not involved in a 24/ 7 (round the clock, permanent) BDSM relationship is not really in the scene. Smile kindly at these people and go about enjoying your life, as you were. Would you really and truly want this to be your lifestyle, every day, year after year? Would you not at some point like a day off? Lifestyle BDSM is unrealistic.

One big myth about BDSM is that it has to involve pain. Anyone who believes that has not really examined the concept. Even the initials prove how false this idea is. Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, Sadism and Masochism: do you see pain written all over that? Bondage is about being restrained, tied up, etc. Discipline is often something along the lines of spanking. Domination is about being the dominant partner or being the dominated partner, the submissive. Then there are the Switches who dominate or are dominated, as it suits them. S and M are only the tail end.

No one should hop into BDSM without some idea of what they are getting into. Take it as any other hobby, learn how to make it work, what tools (if any) you require. Make sure your partner is at least interested, if not eager. Think of the whole thing as foreplay, flirtation and seduction. If you want to add pain, bondage, or domination explore those elements.

I've been into BDSM since I was a kid. A lot of people will say that. I think it sounds odd. But, for me I know what I was doing and I can only wonder and image what someone else was thinking or doing. I was reading my Dad's science fiction books and I was daring myself to look at pictures of naked men in the magazine racks at stores. I didn't buy them, not till much later when I was 16. Naked men made me blush and yet, I really didn't see the attraction of the male body, or parts of it. The penis looked dorky, it still does. Reading the term penis envy still makes me think men are must be pretty insecure if not unbalanced. Who would envy that? Breast envy would be more likely.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash.

How sexy are you with garlic breath? If I had strong garlic breath right now would I still be sexy if I was topless? Would it make a difference.

It should make no difference online. You can't smell me, no matter how hot and heavy my breathing gets.

So why do people online want to see my picture? What does it matter how I look. Are you meeting me at the airport? No. Are you paying me? No. So peeve off. I can look however you want me to look. I could be a complete hag in reality, what does it matter when the only thing you can see, hear or smell is the typing I leave on the screen.

I did have a heavy on the garlic salad tonight. I must have lethal breath. I think I can even smell it myself. The salad was good. I only dropped one tiny bit of lettuce leaf on my shirt front too.

Why is it that all big boobed women have stains on the front of their shirts? Boobs catch it all. Yes, we wash our clothes, we even use Oxy-Clean or whatever the latest, greatest detergent is. Nothing gets everything out. Such is the challenge of having boobs that push our shirt out in front of us.

I don't like wearing a napkin on the front of my shirt. It looks too much like a bib. I'm beyond the age for bibs.

You may wonder what I've been doing since September. Keep wondering, it's good for you. Exercise your imagination. Like the whole garlic breath thing, I'm all in your imagination anyway. Do you know, for certain, if I was ever really here at all.

Merry Yule/ Seasons Greetings.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash.

Sooner or later everything you say you will never do will come back to bite you in the ass. I know this from experience. This week something has been nibbling my ass just in case I started to get forgetful about the whole thing.

I said I would never smoke, I did. (Though for a short time and I quit cold turkey). I said I would never live in the US, I did. I said I would never run a red light, I did. I said I would never (again) do a certain act with a man body, I did (and licked it). I said I would never ... well, I am tomorrow. I am also leaving that blank. It's not one of my prouder moments.

Perhaps, if I never again in my life said I will never about anything I will actually be able to keep some good grrl pride and principles. Perhaps not. Then again, perhaps I'd die a dried up old prune who never had any adventures or new experiences in her whole life. On my tombstone someone would write about what a great personality I had. There would be no mention of anything really interesting, nothing that would make someone blink or second look. I'd just fade into sand dust as my tombstone became one more weathered rock on the lot.

Yes, I am making a possible mistake. I may regret it. But, I seem to be doing it anyway. Sometimes the wants overwhelm, and kick the butt out of, the needs. Later, they come back and bite you in the ass.

For every action there is a consequence. But, who doesn't have regrets in life? Why not just run right for them rather than puttering around and trying to avoid something you're going to get stuck with eventually. At least this mistake is on my own terms, at my discretion. I can't see anyone but me being damaged either. There are people who seem to make a career out of this. Then there are people like me who always said they never would ever do anything remotely like this.

Yet, here I am.

Tomorrow morning, at about 10:am, I will be doing something good grrls don't do.