Love and Sex

More or Less?

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007


If there was one thing you were going to tell your partner that you need more or less of in bed, what would it be? Now, don’t say nothing because there’s always something.

For many women, they would likely say they’d like their partner to slow down. Pay more attention to other parts of her body - her hips, her belly, the undercurves or side curves of her breasts. Women have many, many erogenous zones (as do men) and they like to have new ones discovered. Slowing down is always a good thing to do at least once in awhile. Some women would prefer that you slow down more often than not but even women that are into harcore, serious, passionate fucking will enjoy a slow down on occassion.

There are many other things you might change:

~ faster sex
~ harder sex
~ softer sex
~ kinkier sex
~ spanking sex
~ etc.

Personally, I’m pretty happy about our sex. Actually, my partner is the best sex partner I’ve ever had and I don’t have anything to complain about. But I would want him to know that it doesn’t always have to take a long time. Sometimes, a quickie is awesome. And sometimes, I like to be “convinced” or should I say seduced. And sometimes, he can take charge and tell me what to do - and ya, I’ll likely do it! I think (hope) he actually knows this now after our recent quick and take charge session! Love ya, hon!

So, now that you’ve read this, go tell your partner what you want more or less of or what you would be interested in once in awhile. Talking and communicating are one of the biggest aphrodisiacs in a relationship!

Love and Marriage - A Love Letter

Wednesday, June 27th, 2007


June 27, 2007

Hello all. If you are reading this then my wife has in fact given me permission to publicly share my love for her. It is my hope that on the 27th of each month she will allow me to continue to do so as we move forward with our lives. It is with great pride that I write the following:

Dearest Autumn,

Today marks exactly one month since the day that we were married. For me at least, it gives me a chance to understand just how lucky I am. I have been blessed with the most caring and wonderful woman in the world and fulfilled a long time dream of becoming a father – well, at the very least a stepfather.

I want you to know that since our wedding day my love for you has only become deeper. Each day brings me a new insight into how much I know you care for me. I realize that I am not the perfect man because nobody is. However, when we are together it feels like nothing can ever stop us from achieving anything we put our minds to. Your support when I am not quite one hundred percent means more than you can possibly fathom. I see in your eyes the hurt when I am sad and the joy when I am happy. Please don’t ever stop believing in me.

I was told by many a friend before our marriage that things would change in a big way once we actually had those rings on our fingers. They were right but not in the way that they imagined. I am not a fool thinking that everyday of our lives will be perfect – for we have already had a few trying times. The changes since we have been married have been surprising but only for the better. It seems that during the last month you have shown even more love and passion that at any time before in our lives.

Our honeymoon was such an absolute joy. Yes, the sex was out of this world and your kinky side kicked into overdrive, but our lives are that and so much more. Your special “honeymoon sex” has never really ended because it was really just an extension of who you always were. I think our time alone gave us the opportunity to grow as a couple and for those moments I will be forever grateful. I know there is so much more ahead of us but I never want to forget what a wonderful time we had on our honeymoon.

So in case you need reassurance, I would not have changed this past month for anything – both the good and bad, as I have learned from them both. You never cease to amaze me and I need you to know that I will always give you everything I have in order to make our life together the best that it can possibly be. I am certain that there may have been times when you felt a little overwhelmed but remember that I will always strive for what is best for our family.

So to state things in the simplest of terms – I love my wife. I love you.

Forever yours,

The Erotic Touch

Tuesday, June 26th, 2007

There is something that is just so erotic about touch. Lots of people forget to slow down and just enjoy touching each other. The slow gentle caress of a lover’s hand as it moves over your body is so sensuous.

Sometimes touching someone can discover ticklish zones but that’s not a bad thing. Tickling is very sensuous and erotic as well. A light tickling wakes up the nerve endings which make you more prone to becoming aroused. This tends to be very true in women especially, but lots of guys like it, too.

Spend some time together the next time you are alone and see who caves first. Run your fingers up the inner curve of her waist, around the swell of her breast (don’t touch her nipples yet though), past her armpit, and then down her arm. Let your palm caress her face and then work your way back down again. Go all the way down to the tips of her toes. You’ll soon have her squirming in your arms. Girls, try this on your guy, too. You might have to tie him up first but what the hell right?

Touching is one of the most intimate things you can do. Even if you don’t have time or energy to make love or get into a raunch sex session, touching each other in a sincere and meaningful way is a great way to show your partner how much you care and help them relax at the same time.

And guys, if your lady doesn’t seem so “in the mood” lately, try this on her but don’t let it turn into sex. She might want it to but make it clear that you want her to “get a good nights rest and just relax.” It’s not about you, it’s about her. Do this 3 or so times during a weekend and it will be almost a sure thing that on the weekend when the kids get to bed she’ll be almost ready to jump you!

Blogging and Dating - Are They Counterproductive?

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007


I read this article at today. The author said about blogging, “When it’s handed to me — and to the rest of the world — it’s hard to find it particularly appealing.” And I was kind of surprised.

I like that fact that you can find out (sometimes, because let’s face it, not everyone has a blog, although it seems like it sometimes) things about a person before you get emotionally invested. I like that I can find out if he’s got a fetish for animal-love before I actually start to like a guy. And I like that I can find out that he’s really close to his mom.

I also like the fact that he can find out about me and if he still shows up it means that he’s ready to deal with the fact that I have a couple of kids, and write porn/erotica, and am a little obsessive about oral sex. In fact, my fiance read my blog on Windows Live something or other before he met me. At the time I’d done a 101 things about me blog entry that told a lot of things about me that might have scared other people. And he still came to our first date. In fact, he constantly amazed by saying things like, “Oh right - the shrimp and steak,” before I even ordered. “How did you know?” I’d ask. “It was on your 101.” Right. Ok, it was a little unsettling at first, but after the first few times it was flattering. I mean, this man actually took the time to pay attention to every single one of those 101 things about me and remembered them when it was appropriate!

So, is blogging and dating counterproductive? I don’t think so. Personally, I think that if you can’t read someone’s blog and still be willing to see them then you likely wouldn’t have lasted past the first few dates anyway. And, on top of that, it’s important to remember that just because you read someone’s blog doesn’t mean you know them. It just means that you know about the online personality that they’ve chosen to reveal. It’s only a partial picture.

You didn’t really think that I was all about sex just because that’s what I write about here … did you?

A Reader’s Request

Tuesday, March 27th, 2007

istock_000001576239small.jpgA young reader emailed me this weekend regarding a certain aspect of foreplay: cunnilingus. I emailed her back some quick tips, and she admitted that more information would be welcome, so here! Ask, and ye shall receive.

The quick tips that I shared with our reader certainly apply to all of my readers, and this particular tip applies to both the ladies AND the gentlement. My tip? Eat lots of fruits. Fruit has natural sugars that break down and actually alter your “taste” down under, and have also been said to improve smells as well. (Although, ladies, to be honest, if a man complains about the smell, he’s not worth your time.) While any juicy fruit will work, kiwis and mangoes have specifically been favorites for this. Don’t expect a sudden change; sometimes it will take 24-48 hours to notice a difference.

And let me be quite honest, it will not change it dramatically. It is, after all, pussy.. not a lollypop.

Make sure your man has a “wet” mouth. Nothing is more uncomfortable and unpleasant than having a dry tongue (or finger, for that matter) on your clit. You can do this by kissing him firmly and making out with him. He’ll naturally do his own saliva thang.

Have him start gently on your outer lips, your labia, and use gentle kisses alternating with tracing small circles with his tongue. My personal favorite is when my lover will purposefully avoid my vagina altogether at this point; the anticipation of him finally zeroing in is so delicious.

As he finds his way in, he will need to focus on variety. Your clit has seven times more nerve endings than the tip of the penis; too much attention in one area will quickly become uncomfortable to you. I’ve heard more one than one guy swear by the “ABC” method, where you use your tongue to trace the letters of the alphabet, so that you get a variety of sensations in there.

If you’re enjoying yourself and he’s in a good place, he can venture with a finger or two inserted into your vagina. I prefer this; some women just want one thing at a time.

I hope this helps a little bit, but every couple has their own way to figure things out. I hope that you are enouraged to practice, practice, practice!

, , ,


Thursday, March 8th, 2007

When you came up behind me, you thought I didn’t see you or notice your presence. You were wrong. Not only did I catch your reflection in one of the many gray bookcases that fill my cubicle, but the electricity from you was noticable from down the hall. Your smell washed over me as you entered, and when you put your hand on my shoulder, it was enough to make me sigh.

“It’s a ghost town in here today,” you said, softly. You weren’t supposed to be in there; a high, important executive like yourself shouldn’t be seen meandering with just a peon like myself. But we had connected early, hadn’t we? It was unsaid, and overwhelming.
“Big meeting down the hall,” I said, wanting to face you, but desiring your hand to stay where it was. Truth be told, I had a million places I wanted your hand, but my shoulder would suffice..

As if reading my thoughts, your hand slid down my arm and squeezed gently. I spun my chair around to meet your eyes, your dimples. Your silver hair is so dignified; your cowboy boots belie your position. You smile at me and I grin.

We are alone.

You cup my chin, and I am scared to move. You have everything to lose, and my name would never be released. We are defying everyone right at this moment, and I can’t hear anything but my pulse and our breath.

You lean forward and kiss me on the forehead, gingerly. I try and feel the suction of your lips, the warmth of your mouth. You wink at me as you turn to leave.

And as I watch you leave the area, I am throbbing and unsatisfied. Which is always how we leave it, and it’s what keeps us coming back for more.


Make an O Face for Me

Thursday, March 1st, 2007

Yes, chapter 3 (the final chapter) is coming, dear readers. Your emails have given me some great ideas for the “dessert”; please keep checking back to see if I’ve incorporated any of your requests. And always remember that you can reach me anytime you care to. I promise to get back to you.

Today, however, I happened upon some interesting information. Did you know, for instance, that orgasms have been scientifically proven to be stress-releasers? That part may not surprise you; Lord knows I feel much less stressed after a big O. But did you know that orgasms are also a bonafide pain reliever? Ah ha! One more reason to search for that sometimes elusive climax.]iStock_000002680216XSmall.jpg

I all too often hear women complaining about the lack of orgasms in their life, and to this I say: GET ON IT, DEAR. Men giving women orgasms is much like having a landscaper come to your house: it’s nice to sit back and watch the magic happen, but you can just as easily get your hands dirty yourself. I thought I might dispell a few myths here about the common female orgasm.

  • The G spot is the secret to a great O. Ah, the jury’s still out on this one. While certainly the G spot is a fantastic tool to realize, found directly through the front wall of the vagina, some women feel it too strongly to enjoy it. (I’ve often heard some women complain that it causes the sensation of having to urinate, and that would most DEFINITELY turn me off in the moment.) So while exploring is lots of fun, it is NOT the only road to O.
  • Not all women can orgasm.STOP THE INSANITY. Of course all women can orgasm! While there might be a medical reason (some chemotherapy drugs and antidepressants tend to stifle the sex drive) that ladies can’t reach orgasm, there is no reason you should EVER (EVER!) stop trying.
  • All women should climax during intercourse.I laugh when I hear this one. Honey, if you feel like you’ve failed because you can’t get off during intercourse, let me introduce you to the world of foreplay. I know in MY bedroom, my pleasure comes FIRST, and that usually happens in foreplay. So before you even THINK about penetration, think about the many posts you’ve read here, and how few of them actually revolve around the act of sex.
  • So there you go. I hope I dispelled, at the very least, a couple of myths that are too often used as excuses. I suppose my last question is: why are you still reading this article, and not trying something out?

    Sweet dreams, dears.

    , , ,

In the Back Halls

Sunday, February 18th, 2007

I exited off stage right, and sighed. Another children’s show; this time, I was playing a fairy. I was dressed from head to toe in blue glitter. There was nothing sexy about me. And that’s exactly how I felt.

I entered the offstage hall and took a deep breath. A guy dressed completely in black was sitting back there. He had a headset on. He tried to catch my eyes, but I walked past him. “Alrighty then,” he said.

I heard him following me. “So.. what ARE you?” he asked.

I whirled around on my heels. “I’m a fairy,” I hissed. “What the hell are you?”

He was taken aback. “I’m.. I’m.. I’m working the show next door. George Jones. I do his sound.”

I shrugged. “So I got the better end of life in that deal,” I said and spun back around and kept walking.

“Wait,” he said, jogging to catch up with me. “You look to be about my age.” He smelled like Old Spice, something his father probably introduced him to. He had a few days’ stubble; he was obviously a roadie. “What’s there to do in this town?”

“You’d dare ask a fairy’s opinion?” I asked, and I couldn’t keep from smiling. He had brown eyes that danced. They mirrored my own. “Well, what interests you? Music? Dancing? Food?”

He smiled. “I’m a sucker for blue fairies,” he said, leaning into me. His lips were smooth, surprising for a boy his age, and he had dimples when he grinned. I brushed my lips against his and nuzzled his nose.

“Shouldn’t you be at a sound board?” I whispered as my tongue traced his lips. I felt him shudder. I slid my arms around his waist and felt his thin, young frame tremble at my touch.

Finally, he dove in. His tongue tasted like whiskey, and he bit my lip hungrily. His hands quickly danced up and down my bodice, and a call came over the intercom for the Fairy.

I pulled away, and met his eyes. “I gotta go,” I whispered, nibbling his lip one more time. “Tell George I said hi.”

, ,

The Sexiest Day of the Year

Wednesday, February 14th, 2007

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Someone in my circle asked today: what is your favorite music to have playing when you and your lover touch eachother?

Personally, I prefer a deep bass line, something with a whailing guitar, and low vocals. I prefer something soulful, something deep. And I prefer it to build to a climax.

Much like the sex I prefer, actually. I prefer my sex to be all of those things and more. Whailing, with deep strokes, and an eventual climax.

Some of my favorites:
“Red House” by Jimi Hendrix
“Yeah” by Usher
“If” by Janet Jackson

Let’s make a deal, you and I. Everyone leave a song before tomorrow night. And check back tomorrow night, before the festivities begin. Take a song you’ve never fucked to, and try a new one. Kind of like swapping iPods, but.. not. :)

Enjoy and play along!

Love Screws Lust

Sunday, January 14th, 2007

I should have at least a three-part erotica for you about our evening with Paul last Saturday. But, it didn’t happen quite as I envisioned. I debated all this week about revealing everything, dismissing the thread altogether, or creating my own sultry version of what happened.

Ultimately, I will not reveal all because no matter how badly it went, I love Paul. I love his spirit, creativity and vulnerability juxtaposed with strength. I cannot dismiss the thread altogether, because it is a part of my collective experience with J. It will certainly fold itself into and help define future experiences. And, to distort that reality in a creative tale to you, only exemplifies the role that technology played in the demise of our encounter in the first place.

Looking back now, what led to the disappointment is that Paul and I had spoken so much via email and IM about each other and the anticipated experience that we scripted much of our hopes, fears and love before we even saw each other. We built a connection that revolved solely around our ability to write, connect and relate to one another in text. (more…)

Call It Arm-Twisting

Thursday, January 4th, 2007

At the New Year’s party, the sound on the air was Paul and the aroma was lust (as cliche as it sounds). Walking into Marc’s home and seeing Paul, dressed Cash black, eyes closed, serenading the blossoming crowd–I had to catch my breath. J’s hand pressed against the small of my back and pushed me into the room as he gave a hearty “hello” to our friends. J and I remained close. J told me later that I was the subject of his gaze all evening. He watched my breath cease when Paul came close, in conversation or in song.

After a few cocktails, I could stand it no more. I had no more space in me for the lust. I grabbed J, probably not as subtly as I should have, and led him to the master bath. I sat on the counter, lifted my skirts and pulled him into me…We didn’t speak.

After we came, in a sweaty, half drunk haze, he said, “Tell me at least that you didn’t wish I was Paul then.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I–”

“I love you. I don’t know if this is right for us–if Paul is right for us. But, I know that I love you enough to try.”

I sat silent.

“I want to know that you love me enough to back out of it, of loving him, if I can’t stand it.”



Mr. Paine writes: “Is J. in pain from your “Core Ingrata?” C. said to me this PM “we’re closer than ever, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain at the thought of you being in love with another woman.” Does J allow you your wanton ways, and even encourage them because he doesn’t dare oppose your restless spirit?”

From J: Tonight, I got home from quite a long day to find Lo waiting for me in the garage. Her naked body was illuminated by the headlights from my car as I pulled in. She had been on the back terrace, firepit blazing and her in nothing but a silk victorian robe but it was way too cold. She led me thru the gate and back out to the patio. We barely spoke. I nuzzled up to her, resting my head on her legs propped on the cafe table. Her skin was still warm. She confessed that she had been out there for a few minutes and was exhausted, but still horny. I knelt between her legs, licked and teased her clit and then her nipples. I carried her scent and moisture to her lips and kissed her deeply. I helped her to her feet and leaned her over the cafe table. I entered her. She laughed that the marble table was cold underneath her as I pushed my cock into her. We didn’t stop until I came. Lo was freezing. Her moment would be inside under the heavy comforter later. She shivered her acceptance of that. (more…)

Flutes and Bunnies, Part II

Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007

The lunch a couple of weeks ago with Paul was Jay’s idea. The concept came up at the cocktail party we went to earlier in the month. Jay’s colleague, Marc, was dabbling in the film business. It was mostly documentary work, but there was tremendous opportunity for composing score to the films. Of course that night, Paul was the first to pop into my head when Marc said he needed a musician to host a gathering of documentary filmmakers at his home on New Year’s. But, I would never let Paul’s name past my lips.

Jay finally did, last week. It’s a small community of artists, musicians, writers in our neck of the woods. Jay’s mention was bound to be an attempt to cut off anyone else’s mention of Paul beforehand. “Would he be interested?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You are talking to him still, right?”

Fuck. “Once in a while, we still speak.”


“Yes, we talk. Not regularly, but we speak.”

The talk of my feelings about Paul unfolded from there. Days passed and a new virtual friend entered my life. Someone who was quite unexpected. J started to talk with me about my feelings–for him and for others. What did they mean? Was I pushing J out?

Ultimately, the lunch with Paul to give him the news about the gig was not a test, but a show of “love and trust” on J’s part. J wanted, after all that we had talked about, to try to incorporate (not banish) things from my life. A platonic lunch with Paul was a good way for J to be the diplomat, without having to see the man who slept with his wife–just yet.

I was nervous. Jay must have been ill. Paul looked incredible. (more…)

Flutes and Bunnies, Part I

Monday, January 1st, 2007

I am restless (Breaking the Golden Rule or Restless Cravings). I also find it very hard to disconnect myself from someone who has ever touched my heart in even the smallest way. Perhaps that is a comfort to a new paramour. Perhaps it is a shock for readers who believe me flinty and untouchable–an “ice princess.”

What is it about the year ending that makes us want to patch up connections, resolve, redefine and otherwise make amends to relationships that have been torn in some way? How is it even possible that circumstances etched in betrayal might make a reappearance in this new year?

I spoke of my courtly love with Paul before in Breaking the Golden Rule. What I didn’t reveal in that tale (and should have) is that before I pushed Paul off of me, before I pushed him out of the warmth of me, I came. I cried when I did, tears the only way that the exalt I felt in my orgasm could escape me. The tears were also bitter pain I knew I caused J the moment I lay in that bed, though he knew not my betrayal at the time. If I said I enjoyed Paul in the original story, would that have made me more his harlot? Would it have made me less J’s wife?

When the interested reader asked me if I came with Paul, I relived it in its beautiful pain. I had not told J. Should I? I had betrayed already. Was this not salt on an already deep wound? If I divulged it, would it show callousness or a wish to repair trust and love with J?

J is stronger than I imagined, perhaps stronger than I deserve. “I assumed that you came with Paul,” he said in discussion with me. He assumed that was why I stopped it, shocked by my betrayal only in the throws of great pleasure.

In truth, I was left in love with both of them months ago, a more difficult place that I had ever imagined. We all met under the “label” of swingers, and now we might transform into something else? The idea was absurd. (more…)

Restless cravings

Monday, December 11th, 2006

A new friend told me yesterday that he detected “a great deal of restlessness” on my part. Which makes me think, either it was a lucky guess to see that. Or, I wear my stirrings on my sleeve. They are not as veiled as I might hope.

I make no secret that I have had many lovers in my life, nor that my sexual awakening came at a time that I had promised to be monogamous to a man I loved. It was a great betrayal, with great consequence. But, I was not restrained. Judge as you wish that statement, but it is true.

I roped myself too quickly to the social ties that would bind, seeing them as a checklist for status in the adult world. College, check. Relationship, check. Child, check. Unhappiness, check. Undiscovered soul and sexuality, double check.

Long ago, I found myself with another restless lover. He and I are kindred spirits in many ways. I still love him with all that I am. He was a part of my great awakening. He was also a source of strength when I had no one else around me. Some of these things, he would most likely shake his head at. For, more than exhibiting these things, he just embodied them plainly to me. Still, I have never been so naive as to wish a life with him. It causes me great pain to see that written, and I most often dismiss the thought immediately when it occurs to me. But, our soul’s songs would fly about too much for any peace, I fear. (more…)

About Between the Sheets

Cock. Hard. Pussy. Wet. Tongue. Throb. Sweat. Impale. Well, you made it so far; you might as well make yourself cozy. Isn't it amazing how all of those words have completely mundane definitions until you link them all together?

Welcome to Between the Sheets, where no aspect of sex is taboo and nothing is sacred. So come in and stretch out. Leave a comment. Browse around. You'll leave either appalled or enthralled, but you'll definitely remember your first time. (And it only gets better AFTER the first time.)

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