watching the erotic google dance

I always love learning how people found this site. I’ve been found in some truly interesting and deeply perverted ways, which makes Vikki a very happy and juicy girl. 🙂 A lot of the time it seems like people are looking for information or advice, and it makes me a little sad to know how little of it they may find here. Still, I hope these searchers found what they were looking for…

where what clitoris: Gosh, that’s not the article I’d want you to see if you were trying to find out what the clitoris is and, more importantly, where it is. if you came here looking for information about the clitoris, try the-clitoris.com.

denial tease: Believe me, I know what you’re looking for. Best web site out there is Orgasmdenial.com, also the old standby NTC forums aren’t bad, and for more web links including a good list of Yahoo groups on the subject, visit Orgasmdenial’s web links area.

brazilian wax photo: 1. I have no idea why I show up for this, other than the fact that I once considered getting a Brazilian. 2. Someone actually looked through 200+ results and still thought I was relevant?

how to give a good handjob: I’m somehow the 4th highest link for this search. Quite amusing, really. But I’ll give you my three favourite tips anyway, since you’re finding me this way… 1) Eros lube. 2) Straddling his chest facing his feet while doing it. 3) Learn even more tips and techniques from Jill (one of the few pay sites I actually think is worth the price of admission).

There’s more, but I’m a tired and horny girl, so it’s off to bed for a nice slow orgasm for me. 🙂

it’s not just about the naughty bits

An interesting discussion is going on at the Erotica Readers site. It’s about the tendency of some men (and some women, for that matter) to focus only on the naughty bits (nipples, clit, cock) during foreplay. Some useful learnin’ here, especially for those who are curious about how people feel about foreplay and how to make it better.

But the one thing I noticed the most was that virtually none of them spoke about the thing that is, to my way of thinking, the most important facet of all, even before the kisses and strokes and long lusty licks.

For me, it’s always been about the mind. A man can bring me to full, wet, wanting readiness simply by playing with my mind, setting the scene for seduction while barely laying a finger on me.

A whispered comment. A bald statement from across the dinner table. A smirk. Knowing that he wants me. That he wants to do things to me. That he knows he can turn me on, or that he is so turned on by me he’s hard and aching, or both. Gentle flirting, or teasing so potent it makes me blush (a terribly embarassing trait to have as a 31 year old woman). Shared fantasies. A rough “I want you” murmured in my ear, lips so close it makes me shiver. The threat of his body from behind, warm and heady at my back. The threat of his body from the front, hands against the wall on either side of my head. A sexy imagination. An adventurous nature. These are the things that spark the arousal in my mind, and make me warm and creamy inside.

Stimulate the mind, and the body is sure to follow.

answering your email

Louis wrote:

I tried the “feather-light” touches last night. Wow! I really didn’t expect her to react like that. Thanks!

You see? Knew I wasn’t the only woman in the world who turns into a moaning, writhing mass when a man justbarelytouches, skimming just his fingertips along my clit over and over. Honestly, guys, give it a try. She’ll be begging you for more, and when she finally does come, her belly will ache pleasantly from the strain. You’re very welcome, Louis. And I’ll save you that seat in the theatre, in another life. 🙂

Dan asked:

I was however left wondering what the purpose in your mind was for the site. Is it just to have a voice? I felt like I had been given access to parts of your life without knowing why!- are you infact fictional?

I was prompted to ask you a more personal question too – I have been toying with the idea of getting my wife a vibrator as a gift. However, is it better with a vibrator? is it worth a try? I’m concerned it might be less affectionate and was really just wanting a female perspective on it.

My purpose for the site is basically to explore my ideas, thoughts, reactions, and fantasies about sex and sensuality. It’s an outlet, a place for me to confess or learn something new about myself. Sometimes it’s easier to suss these things out in writing. I also find it a release, a way to remind myself to be sensual every single day, and to love that side of me. No, I’m not fictional. I’m a real girl, with real feelings and real body parts and a really horny love of the lubricious side of life.

As to your question about the vibe, I say give it a try! Is it better? No, just different, though for women who have trouble reaching orgasm it can be a godsend. Be sure to try and buy a toy that suits your partner. Is she the type of woman who enjoys something inside her while getting off – a cock, fingers, carrots, something? Or is she more likely to focus on her clit? This can help you decide what kind of toy to buy. If she’s an inside girl, I’d suggest a vibrating dildo. But if she’s a clit girl through and through (like me) she may find dildos don’t have enough vibration to them, and in the wrong places. A bullet vibe can be much more enjoyable. Bullets have the additional advantage in that they’re very easy to integrate into sex with a partner – it’s small enough to trap between your pelvis and her clit while having sex, and is small and easy to handle for many other manual stimulation scenarios.

I can’t think of anything more affectionate than a partner wanting to ensure my pleasure to such a degree that he goes out and buys me a toy for us both to play with. But that’s just me.

David: Thanks for the lyrics. They were lovely.

Danny: Your story was fun. Keep writing stories. It gets easier as you go along.

Thanks to everyone for participating in the discussions popping up around my latest posts, and keep the emails coming in… I’ll try to answer some on here every so often!

my teenage fantasies

I promised I’d tell you about some of my fantasies—the ones I’ve used to get me off, past and present. Tonight I’ll delve into the past.

When I was a teenager, one of the sexiest things I could ever imagine happening to me was being grabbed by a gang of boys and thrown into the back of a van. They’d tie me up, spreadeagled, standing against the back wall of the van, while they sat around me in a semi-circle.

They’d take turns coming up to me, licking my nipples, touching my nether bits, doing everything they could to tease me and make me moan. The other guys would watch and jerk themselves off. Then—him—the ringleader. He’d come to me and look at me with the sexiest look possible while his finger slipped between my wet pussy lips and rubbed my clit so slowly and so deliberately that I’d be bucking up against him, begging for his touch, closer and closer to orgasm, while the onlookers would get harder and redder and sometime around the moment when the first guy shot his load, I’d come (figuratively and literally).

Yum. Haven’t thought about that one in years. Amazing that I had fantasies like this for years and didn’t realize that I had latent BDSM interests until just a few years ago!

Another teen fantasy was being trapped in a stall in a women’s washroom by another, more aggressive woman. She’d get on her knees before me and, despite my begging and pleading, she’d push up my skirt and shove my knees apart and dig her tongue right under my panties, licking at me. Other women would come into the bathroom and I’d have to bite my lip and be so quiet while she suckled my clit, bringing me to an explosive orgasm.

And finally, one of my favourites from those years was going to an adult movie theatre with my lover. I’d touch him while he watched, and then, too excited for words, I’d kneel down on the sticky, dirty floor and slide my mouth over him. As I slurped him greedily, some of the other men in the theatre would notice, and they’d crowd around us, commenting on my hot mouth and sweet bare ass beneath my skirt while my lover held my head in his hands and encouraged me to suck him harder.

Damn, I was a kinky little girl. Still am, thank goodness!

More fantasies soon…

what gets you off?

Everybody uses something to get themselves off, at least some of the time. Some people play back memories of sex they’ve had, others fantasize about sex they’d like to be having. Still others look at magazines, watch porn, spy on their neighbours having sex, read a sexy story or book, you get the idea.

My first external source (i.e. not fantasies) was when I discovered my parents’ cache of porn. Mom kept “their” magazines in a hidden bookshelf behind the mounds of pillows on their bed. I discovered it quite by accident. Playboys, a couple of Penthouses. I was fascinated by the women, but mainly read the stories. Hot hot hot. Then as a young teenager I found racier magazines like Hustler in my dad’s desk in the basement. These stories were even nastier. Oh, how my young teenage heart would pound as I snuck downstairs while my parents were out of the house to look at these magazines and touch myself. I was terrified the whole time that my parents would come home and I’d be caught. It made it even sexier, even more explosive.

As an older teenager, I found their hidden cache of movies. Oh, wow. To this day I don’t know where they found them—I often suspected they had a friend with satellite—but they were amazingly hot, and featured bondage, and teasing and denial, and roleplaying. So I guess you could say it runs in the family. 🙂

When I got my own place and didn’t have to worry about my parents finding anything (I was far less trusting than they, I suppose!) I added Penthouse Letters and other similar storybooks to my collection, as well as my adult video rental card. Online porn and stories got me through my marriage, since the ex wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of me having porn. It wasn’t until I left my husband, sadly, that I discovered erotic novels like Black Lace and Nexus, and my collection has grown every year since.

Sometimes I’m satisfied with fantasies, but often I enjoy reading or watching porn (either online or offline). My sex collection grows a little more every month. It’s not vast, but it suits me well. I have an entire bookshelf devoted to sexy books from erotica to non-fiction sex topics like BDSM and pornography and general sexuality. I display it proudly, not worrying about hiding it from visitors. I’ve got kinks, I like sex, and to hell what other people think.

I’ll write more about my fantasies—the ones that really get me off, past and present—in future diary entries.

the sexless marriage, redux

It is constantly amazing and deeply saddening to me to know that one of the most popular pages on this site (via search engines) is my post from last year called the sexless marriage.

Sad enough that I opened up comments on the post, figuring maybe someone would want to talk about it. And sure enough, today, a lovely lady named Tammy made this comment:

I am attractive and an proportional size, but he has made me feel fat, ugly, and unworthy of his love. We only have sex when he wants and that is about once every four months. Only one time has he made love to me in the past four years when I wanted too. He has rejected me nearly two hundred times over the past five years. I have been jeolous thinking there is another woman or even thinking another man. I even doubt, he loves me and I think he just wants me to help pay for his new house. Why would I feel this way? Do you think I should give him another chance or just get counseling for my depression or both?

I should probably preface my reply by saying I’m decidedly not a counsellor, doctor, therapist, or anyone else remotely qualified to be giving advice.

Tammy, honey, it seems to me that you’ve got a 100% right to be feeling depressed. The one person in the whole world who is supposed to love you and cherish you and find you irresistably, fuckably hot doesn’t make love to you. Believe me when I say I’ve been there.

At one point my ex-husband and I went over a year without sex. It wasn’t at all unusual to go for six months or more, the rest of our last few years together. Not for lack of trying on my part. I did the lingerie, the naughty notes, the porn, the morning come-on, all of it.

I’ve gone through it all. The endless rejections picking away at your self-esteem, wondering what you could do better, how you could be more attractive to him. Finally curling up into a little ball inside, afraid to even ask. Acting like it doesn’t matter, doesn’t hurt you more with every passing day. Wondering if there’s another woman. Wondering how often he jacks off, if at all. Wondering if maybe it’s even another man. All perfectly normal reactions.

And I can’t tell you what to do. I can tell you what I did.

I talked to him about it. Often enough so that he knew I was deadly serious about this, without nagging him too much about it. At one point he was willing to try counselling. At another point he gave me carte blanche to sleep with other men, since it was obviously my problem, wanting sex as often as I did, hussy that I am. Some time later we brought up the counselling thing again, and went to meet with the doctor. But a month or two later, he told me he thought he’d sacrificed enough for me, and wasn’t willing to sacrifice more. I was on my own with this problem.

Even my personality and demeanour began to change. I sunk into myself like something hollow collapsing inward. I wasn’t a smartass anymore. I was quiet and hopeful and desperate, and I didn’t even know it. Eventually I had to make a choice—because in the end, all successful relationships are about compromise. The things that were on my personal compromise chopping block were self-esteem, sexuality, and personality. I could choose him or I could choose myself.

I chose myself.

Make no mistake. It wasn’t an easy decision. I loved him. And lots of other women choose not to do what I did.

I don’t know what the right decision is for you. It will take a long period of soul-searching. But in the end the choice will be clear. Either you love him enough to stay, or you love yourself enough to leave. Nobody will judge you, whatever your choice. Just make sure that whatever choice you make is one you’re willing to spend the rest of your life with.

I’ll be thinking of you, Tammy, and wish you well in your journey.

faking it

The Dirty Whore has been talking about faking it. It’s such a relief to see another sexually aware, indescribably juicy, fully in love with the unh woman admit that yep, she fakes it.

Not all the time of course. But my body is greedy about its orgasms. It doesn’t give them away easily. There are times when I can’t make myself come, dammit, and I’m the biggest expert there is on my own body (particularly after having been my only lover for the last year and a half – sigh).

And like the lady, I’m sure that mine is an issue of trust. Not consciously, of course, but somewhere down deep. Would that it wasn’t so! Believe me, I’d love to be all filled with orgasm-y goodness, raring to blast off at a moment’s notice.

A girlfriend of mine tried swinging once, and the lady from the other couple was like that – she figured the lady had seven or eight authentic orgasms in a few hours’ time.

We decided we hated her. 🙂

So yeah, I fake it occasionally. Not to make up for truly bad lovemaking, but if the guy is doing his level best and giving me everything I ask for, and it’s still not gonna happen, I figure, why make him feel bad? Because believe me, whether they admit it or not, many many men go after an orgasm like it’s a boy scout badge, and they feel like they’re a bad little scout if they can’t make it happen. So I soothe his conscience, and let myself off the hook for being such a damned control freak.

Most of the time, though, if it’s not gonna happen, I just switch to something else – like licking and sucking the body part I love so damn much I still have dreams about it after a year and a half of celibacy.

Have I faked it with every man I’ve ever been with? Hmm. Interesting question (makes me wonder if the exes of mine who still read this now sitting up and taking notice). I don’t know, exactly, but…

I do know there was one man with whom I never faked. His lightest touch drove me insane. He had me bucking and crying and freaking out every time he came near me. I don’t even know what it was.

Maybe the lack of pressure. Maybe the forbidden naughtiness of our time together. Who knows.

But probably, yeah, I’ve faked it at least once with most guys. I figure some of them can even tell, and it’s akin to the little white lie that men tell women when they’re asked “Do I look fat?”. Sometimes little white lies aren’t so bad.

What about you? Have you ever faked it?

sexblogging

When I started blogging in 2000, there just weren’t a lot of sex blogs out there. Oh, sure, Daze, and a few others, but they were mostly news-oriented blogs as opposed to something more personal.

Well, three years later, blogging has exploded (I rarely have to explain what a blog is anymore) and there are some deliciously tasty morsels out there for the blog enthusiast who just loves raunchy, frank writing.

My personal favourites include:
Dirty Whore: I love this lady—she reminds me a lot of myself, actually.
Sweetness Follows: A lusty twentysomething Canadian couple (it’s so great to see more of us out there!) who dabble in BDSM.
Blogasm: A group blog all about sex, baby.
ErosBlog: More newsy, similar to Daze, but with a quirky little personal side that is absolutely charming. Big licks to the author, Bacchus.
Muffindoodle: The raunchy adventures of Slutmuffin and Muffinman. Don’t ask.

Take some time, check through these lovely blogs. Tell ’em Vikki sent you.

snagged from the web

Two things that caught my interest tonight…

Couple ordered to stop squealing and groaning during sex:

An Italian couple have been ordered to make love more quietly after the woman’s screams of ecstasy provoked complaints from neighbours.

The couple, both in their 20s, were taken to court after a family living next door grew fed up at being woken up by high pitched squeals and groaning.

The couple were originally told they must be completely silent during sex but Judge Ermanno Tristano overturned that ruling.

He relented after the husband told him: “Your honour I can’t make love properly unless my wife screams. It’s like having sex with a cushion.”

Painfully funny. Can you imagine being ordered to be completely silent during sex? I say move, people, and be as damn noisy as you like. I say good for them! We need more noisy lubricious sex out there in the world—particularly between married people!

Also, a man has a blue Realdoll. You know, from the Realdoll company? I laughed and laughed, and then realized it wasn’t so strange at all. I mean, if women can have dildos in every color of the rainbow, why not a blue doll for men?