A Comedy of Errors

Lately, doing laundry at my house has become sexy time. I don’t know what it is about the garage but I get wet when I walk in there now. I think it’s because of all the sex that has been happening in there lately. Dean, the bf, is really good at making chores turn into sex. This skill has led to me burning dinner of several occasions and very little laundry actually getting done.

One night, I was having some dinner guests over. I put the steak on the grill and he went into the garage to start laundry. I started up the grill and then went into the garage to make sure he could find everything that he needed. As soon as I walked in he dropped trou and bent me over the washer. He proceeded to finger me until I came and then take me roughly from behind. Lots of ass slapping and hair tugging. Luckily he had started the washer already so the vibrations were rubbing my breasts as he pounded deeply into me. I lifted up my shirt so my nipples were directly on the cold metal. I would like to say that this was completely graceful, but my legs got tangled in my pants and I slid across the floor and hit my head on the washer. This did not deter him or I from a passionate encounter…it did lead to a short giggle fit however.

After I came again all over his cock and thighs. He pulled up a rollie-chair and sat down. And guided me onto him. I tried to ride him. This was a little unsuccessful for a variety of reasons. The primary being that the chair was too tall, so when I tried to straddle him to get a little leverage for grinding then it shot out from under me and across the floor. I then tried the reverse cowgirl position and again it was too tall and I being clumsy was bungling up the whole process. This position ended in me straight out laughing and him probably wishing he was dating a gymnast.

By this time the washer was in full spin so he had me sit on the top of the washer. The cold metal was all up in my ass. He then slid me down a little so that he could enter me again. The problem this time was that he was not quite tall enough to get it in. I was holding on to the control panel for dear life and my derriere was hanging off the edge. He kept scooting me down but it just ended up with me wrenched somewhere between falling off and hanging on. Then I suggested that he use a stool to get a little more height. He pulled over a trusty IKEA stool and resituated my legs and ass so I was spread eagle and only mostly hanging off the ledge. He stepped up on the stool and as he spread his legs to insert his dick. He must have put more weight on one side then the other because it toppled. Luckily, he was not damaged in the process. Then we brainstormed up the idea of using two stools for more stability and range of movement. That worked quite well. He was able to deeply thrust into me while fingering my clit. I was able to scoot back a little so I felt more secure. The cold metal was stimulating and my hot juices were flowing.

He was working up to an orgasm as we were working our way through the rinse and spin cycles when I heard my friend’s car pull up. He startled and jumped off the stools and quite suddenly out of me. He lunged towards the garage door to lock it so we both could quickly redress. However, when he went for the door lock he knocked over box that pushed the garage door opener.

It was classic slapstick. The garage door slowly raised to reveal on one side a car full of surprised dinner guests and on the other Dean scrambling to pull on his pants while still sporting an impressive hard-on and failing miserably and me naked as the day I was born, laid out on the washer, and laughing hysterically. You can’t make this level of comedy up. After he shut the door and we put ourselves quite haphazardly together there was a somewhat awkward dinner over burned steak.

Ben-Wa Balls and Burpbees

I read 50 Shades of Gray and came away with two points, 1) scat play is a hard limit for me and 2) Ben-Wa balls might be fun for some covert arousal and pre-gaming. I bought a set of Lelo Luna Beads from Amazon and got to work improving my ability to not pee when I sneeze. They come in two sizes and in essence are the size of a bouncy ball with a silicon holder. There is a little marble weight that bounces around inside that makes subtle but sensational vibrations as you move.

Last night after work, I went for a workout despite being tired and still a little sickly. I decided, in my infinite wisdom, that it would be more fun to exercise with Ben-Wa balls in. I figured if they feel good while I’m just out and about then they will feel great at a boot-camp. I will be able to work my muscles and work my Kegel muscles at the same time. A fool-proof plan!

It went well for about 15 minutes. I was feeling the constant pressure on my G-spot. My vagina felt full and I was pretty aroused. I was using the two blue beads that are 37 grams each and together are enough to fill me up. (I like how they are weighted in grams like cocaine or gold.) As I was squatting, crunchie-ing, planking, and moving about the sensation was getting quite intense. Then it happened…something that I could not have anticipated. I had a coughing spell (damn you bronchitis!) that partially dislodged one of the balls. My vagina entrance is pretty tight and a half in/half out Ben-Wa ball was uncomfortable in a wholly un-erotic kind of way. I decided to do an emergency extraction with my pelvic muscles. So the next round of burpees, I squeezed and pushed with all my might. I managed to push the bead entirely out of my vagina so then I was stuck with one ball in and one ball out. The people around me probably thought I was groaning in my exuberance of finishing my burpee set, it was just sheer relief that I got the Ben-Wa ball all the way out.

The next 45 minutes was torture. Not because the workout was hard but because I had the “harness” straddling my intoitus, vulva opening. It was crushing my labia because of my underwear. Definitely not sexy-time. The worst part was the ½ mile run down and then back up the hill.

The only upside was by the time I got home and it was out. I was extremely wet, more then I have ever been in my life. I was drenched! I was also extremely turned on. I am trying this again, but next time I’m bringing my inhaler so I don’t have a coughing fit that causes spasms in ALL my muscle groups.

Is That a Crock Pot?

Once upon a Christmas vacation, my family was visiting from a land far away. The boyfriend at the time, Chef, wanted to come over and meet the family. He did that and thoroughly impressed them with his pretension and douche-baggery. My only defense is that he was tall and hot and had a huge schlong. After the family dispersed to do various things, he tried to convince me to give him a blowie before he drove all the way back to his house. I refused because my dad was milling about and my nephew was playing in and out of the house. There was no where to go for the privacy needed to complete this service.

After he wheedling for a while, I told my dad we were going to the neighbors to borrow a tool. The only tool I wanted to “borrow” was the one in his pants. My neighbors were gone and so we snuck into their garage for a quickie. Well, what I thought was going to be a quickie, and what he thought was going to be a 68…you know, I do him, he owes me one.

It was the typical garage scenario, smelling of black mold and mice. Decades of necessary things that were not so necessary after all. Boxes piled high and junk on every surface. He sat me down in a decrepit old desk chair and romantically pulled his cock just over his pants. He might have been a dick but he also had a magnificent one. He probably said one of his many lines like, “I love that mouth.” and grabbed my head to guide it onto his very large, very long dick.

At this point in my sexual experience, I had far more enthusiasm for giving head the practice or skill. I was doing my best and trying to remember all the things that I had read in countless magazines; cover your teeth, keep it wet, up and twist with your hand, focus on the bottom of the glans, don’t forget about the balls, suck, relax, try not to get a pube stuck in your uvula…. The basic litany of directives that I was trying to implement all at once. He had his hand gently tugging my hair and guided my head in the speed and depth that he preferred (both faster and deeper than I apparently was going). I soon started just to focus on not biting down and trying to keep my snot in my nose and not dribbling everywhere. After about 10 minutes of this, interrupted by a few bouts of ball sucking and shaft licking, I was finally getting in the flow of it. I was feeling confident, feeling in charge, feeling pretty bad-ass. It was right about this time that I heard him say, “Is that a crock pot up there? I could make a mean stew in a crock pot that large.” Needless to say, I was deflated. He, however, shot his load fairly quickly after the crock pot identification. I want to assume it is because of my superior fellatio but in reality it’s probably because he is a chef and cookware turns him on.

Poop Finger!

I’ve been dating Dean for about four months. I’m a big fan of his.  He delights in the absurd, which I adore. He is slightly keen on sex in public places, which is exciting and a little heady. He thinks I shit sunshine and unicorns. The thing I like most about him is that he is very open and honest about everything…sometimes a little too honest but that might be another posting. He is also the best sex I’ve ever had…granted I’m pretty new at this, but he’s amazing!

One night after a spirited bout of MarioKart, I was lying on the couch with Dean. As usual we started fooling around. After some boobie play and kissing, his penis made an appearance and I was not seriously giving him head, just mostly messing around.  Dean started rubbing my ass and thighs. He scooted down my pants and was caressing my backside. He continued to stroke my ass as he and I became more aroused. He is into anal play, so he started testing out the asshole.  After a few more minutes of me sucking with more vigor and him getting a little friskier, his finger was well into my asshole and I was fully engaged in the blowing. He started to get a little rough, with some hair tugging, light slapping, gentle face fucking. He suddenly hit my ass really hard….it was hot. I thought he was really getting into it and was pretty turned on. Directly after the slap he stood up abruptly and walked into the kitchen. I was surprised mostly because I was beginning to get sex stupid and my processing slows immensely. He ran the water in the kitchen for a few seconds and then he returned and probably said something eloquent like, “Boobies”.

I started to suck on him again and then was struck by the hilarity of poop on a finger and more generally why the anal region is erotic. I got the giggles and he asked what was the matter…obviously being giggled at while someone’s face is that close to your manhood has to be a little emasculating. I quickly chortled, “You had poop on your finger!” He replied, “No, I didn’t” I then in a more accusatory tone responded, “Yes, you did. That’s what happens when you play with the ass. Poop comes out of it after all. You had poop on your finger.” He again refused to admit that he had poop on his finger. I being annoyed at his reluctance to own up to some fecal matter yelled “POOP FINGER!”

It was then that he sheepishly stated that a fly had landed on my ass while he was playing with it and he tried to kill it. The problem is that he really did kill it and then didn’t know what to do with the dead fly or his contaminated hand. Apparently he didn’t want to tell me because he thought that it would be offensive but I thought it was quite funny. I occasionally still guffaw when we are having sex and he slaps my ass because I am reminded that not every smack on the ass is to stimulate the senses…sometimes it’s to kill a fly.

-Crystal Bridges

Hello World

This blog is dedicated to the stories of  two women who are exploring sexuality. The stories here will be documenting those adventures; the good, the bad, and occasionally the ugly….not to mention the awkward. If you grew up on romance novels as your only source of information about what happens in the bedroom be forewarned—this isn’t that. This is real life with all of the foibles, farts, and occasional flies on asses. Enjoy!
Here are the authors who will be contributing on a regular basis:

Crystal Bridges, Coming late to the sex party. This almost thirty (and very flirty) girl discovered the world of men in her 28th year when her first date “accidentally” slipped inside her. She has been making up for lost time since then. Her pseudonym comes from the museum in Arkansas that sounds like it’s a porn star name but in reality is an American art museum.

A. J. Rimmer, A Rubin-esque lady in her mid 30’s. She was married for over a decade but after recently being dumped/freed she is off to explore the world with her vagina.