Sunday, March 31, 2002
I wonder, what are the ritual this days?
When I was a child I used to love some rituals: the afternoon tea with croissants sitting around the fireplace with mom in winter or in the flowery patio in summer; the 6:00 o’clock kids show, the Sunday family reunions with all the cousins where we formed 2 groups and collected frogs to see who collected more; the visits to my grandparents once a month where we were badly spoiled by them with all kind of sweets and treats.
When I was a teenager I loved the Friday night friends reunions at the tennis courts; the Saturday night clubs with the boys; the shopping trips with mom; the movies at the theater; even the high-school events.
As an adult I have kept some rituals and created others. The night tea in bed; the evening hot-bubble-bat with the new magazine once a month; the Friday night conversation with my husband over pizza; the shows on Sunday evening.
What are the ritual of the new generations? Do the have any?
The world is loosing slowly but steadily some of the old ritual, the ones our grandparents and parents used to honor: the afternoon tea; the big cooking on Sundays with the family; the family night-out once a month to dinner or the movies; the long-hand-written letter to the family and friends overseas; the black and white formal pictures on the special occasions in the photo studio. My generation has replaced some of those rituals due to the technology. No more hand-written letters: e-mail; no more photo studio pictures: disposable-cameras, video-cameras, digital-cameras; no more family night out: now we go out with our friends of the same age; no more theater movies: dance clubs, pubs and bars.
What will be celebrating the new generation? I wonder … My rituals define my life, they define me. They give me identity, they are part of myself. I hold on into them because the say who I am. And I like them.
Which are your rituals?
When I was a child I used to love some rituals: the afternoon tea with croissants sitting around the fireplace with mom in winter or in the flowery patio in summer; the 6:00 o’clock kids show, the Sunday family reunions with all the cousins where we formed 2 groups and collected frogs to see who collected more; the visits to my grandparents once a month where we were badly spoiled by them with all kind of sweets and treats.
When I was a teenager I loved the Friday night friends reunions at the tennis courts; the Saturday night clubs with the boys; the shopping trips with mom; the movies at the theater; even the high-school events.
As an adult I have kept some rituals and created others. The night tea in bed; the evening hot-bubble-bat with the new magazine once a month; the Friday night conversation with my husband over pizza; the shows on Sunday evening.
What are the ritual of the new generations? Do the have any?
The world is loosing slowly but steadily some of the old ritual, the ones our grandparents and parents used to honor: the afternoon tea; the big cooking on Sundays with the family; the family night-out once a month to dinner or the movies; the long-hand-written letter to the family and friends overseas; the black and white formal pictures on the special occasions in the photo studio. My generation has replaced some of those rituals due to the technology. No more hand-written letters: e-mail; no more photo studio pictures: disposable-cameras, video-cameras, digital-cameras; no more family night out: now we go out with our friends of the same age; no more theater movies: dance clubs, pubs and bars.
What will be celebrating the new generation? I wonder … My rituals define my life, they define me. They give me identity, they are part of myself. I hold on into them because the say who I am. And I like them.
Which are your rituals?
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
Size doesn’t matter … really …
I have had all sizes of penis in my life. My first boyfriend had a big penis. His friends used to call him tripod. For me it was normal, he was my first guy. I actually though it sucked his penis was big because most of the times sex was a painful experience. I was, also, 17 and didn’t know anything about lubricants nor did he, although he was 22, or at least he never mentioned it. Don’t get me wrong, our sex life was good, or as good as it can be when you are 17 and have no experience to compare. It could have been better though since it lasted almost 8 years …
I remember, for example, that he never kissed me much, or talked to me during sex. So I didn’t know what was going on in his mind. And I though he didn’t like to kiss me. I never asked. Beside young I was shy, which leads you nowhere, but I learned that overtime.
I had another boyfriend which penis was so small that the first time we had sex I looked at him and didn’t know he was actually ready. Kind of weird, because it was erected but it wasn’t bigger than 3 or 4 inches, and thin. I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended everything was fine and got at it. He didn’t seem to have anything to say and got at it with me. I was the whole time wondering what was going to happen. He got inside me and I didn’t feel but a little tickle in my pussy. He didn’t like to give oral sex … so forget about having an orgasm, too much trouble. After 15 minutes of chingui changa I got tired and faked the most noisy orgasm you can imagine, he got the hint or thought it was his turn, and finished too.
Afterwards we had sex another 3 times. Every time was worse for me. But after the first I didn’t know how to end the relationship because I though it would be rude. So I waited. I was also curious how he would carry the situation. I was expecting for him to came out and say something about his penis. But he was the most confident man I ever met. He actually though he was good in bed, good with a big G. His ex-girlfriend had him convinced about it … fool! … he was horrible, didn’t like to give oral sex and wanted me on top all the time, doing the moving. I still remember the “ooohh … aaaha … move that ass baby …” I really hope he learned something since …
Another guy I dated was very tall and muscular. We had quite a few dates before we had sex. A bad starting combination: we both were very shy and it was a while until one of us took the initiative … curious who did it? Remain curious … When we finally did it I was surprised! I mean, scary surprised. His penis was huge. I thought he would never be able to get that piece inside me. Well, following my habit I just pretend everything was fine ... so did he. And it was good! I guess after waiting for so long and craving this guy I was so wet that didn’t matter. The following times were somehow less easy. Although much better that my first experience …
In the middle I dated other guys with different normal-penis-size. Some of them good, some of them horrible. It’s funny how everybody has particularities. One of the guys would never put the condom himself. It had to be me. Other, didn’t care about me at all. He just wanted to throw me in the bed, get my clothes off and fuck me. It always lasted 5 minutes. Then there was the sick one, from the entry “Sex crazy me?”.
Sizes, sizes … after my first experiences it never mattered. I can have an orgasm no matter what. It's just about the right moves and touches!
I have had all sizes of penis in my life. My first boyfriend had a big penis. His friends used to call him tripod. For me it was normal, he was my first guy. I actually though it sucked his penis was big because most of the times sex was a painful experience. I was, also, 17 and didn’t know anything about lubricants nor did he, although he was 22, or at least he never mentioned it. Don’t get me wrong, our sex life was good, or as good as it can be when you are 17 and have no experience to compare. It could have been better though since it lasted almost 8 years …
I remember, for example, that he never kissed me much, or talked to me during sex. So I didn’t know what was going on in his mind. And I though he didn’t like to kiss me. I never asked. Beside young I was shy, which leads you nowhere, but I learned that overtime.
I had another boyfriend which penis was so small that the first time we had sex I looked at him and didn’t know he was actually ready. Kind of weird, because it was erected but it wasn’t bigger than 3 or 4 inches, and thin. I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended everything was fine and got at it. He didn’t seem to have anything to say and got at it with me. I was the whole time wondering what was going to happen. He got inside me and I didn’t feel but a little tickle in my pussy. He didn’t like to give oral sex … so forget about having an orgasm, too much trouble. After 15 minutes of chingui changa I got tired and faked the most noisy orgasm you can imagine, he got the hint or thought it was his turn, and finished too.
Afterwards we had sex another 3 times. Every time was worse for me. But after the first I didn’t know how to end the relationship because I though it would be rude. So I waited. I was also curious how he would carry the situation. I was expecting for him to came out and say something about his penis. But he was the most confident man I ever met. He actually though he was good in bed, good with a big G. His ex-girlfriend had him convinced about it … fool! … he was horrible, didn’t like to give oral sex and wanted me on top all the time, doing the moving. I still remember the “ooohh … aaaha … move that ass baby …” I really hope he learned something since …
Another guy I dated was very tall and muscular. We had quite a few dates before we had sex. A bad starting combination: we both were very shy and it was a while until one of us took the initiative … curious who did it? Remain curious … When we finally did it I was surprised! I mean, scary surprised. His penis was huge. I thought he would never be able to get that piece inside me. Well, following my habit I just pretend everything was fine ... so did he. And it was good! I guess after waiting for so long and craving this guy I was so wet that didn’t matter. The following times were somehow less easy. Although much better that my first experience …
In the middle I dated other guys with different normal-penis-size. Some of them good, some of them horrible. It’s funny how everybody has particularities. One of the guys would never put the condom himself. It had to be me. Other, didn’t care about me at all. He just wanted to throw me in the bed, get my clothes off and fuck me. It always lasted 5 minutes. Then there was the sick one, from the entry “Sex crazy me?”.
Sizes, sizes … after my first experiences it never mattered. I can have an orgasm no matter what. It's just about the right moves and touches!
Monday, March 18, 2002
Menstruation
Why call it men-struation? When in truth it should be women-struation, or month-truation. It would be so much logical … even monster-uation will be better. Because really, who likes the monthly bloody nightmare? If vampires would exist, they wouldn’t kill anybody. There will be plenty of blood for them. It would help us get rid of the monsteruation faster. Don’t you think? And if there is no one of them around at the time, or for the matter, we are in a sunny beach, then we can use tampons to collect their food and give it to them later. It would work perfectly. Although this is the only advantage I can see about having vampires. At least, of course, they were as gorgeous as Angel or Spike that is. Then I can think of some other uses as well … and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we are monsteruating at the time. It will be fun actually feed and f*** altogether. Ok, enough divagating for today.
Why call it men-struation? When in truth it should be women-struation, or month-truation. It would be so much logical … even monster-uation will be better. Because really, who likes the monthly bloody nightmare? If vampires would exist, they wouldn’t kill anybody. There will be plenty of blood for them. It would help us get rid of the monsteruation faster. Don’t you think? And if there is no one of them around at the time, or for the matter, we are in a sunny beach, then we can use tampons to collect their food and give it to them later. It would work perfectly. Although this is the only advantage I can see about having vampires. At least, of course, they were as gorgeous as Angel or Spike that is. Then I can think of some other uses as well … and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we are monsteruating at the time. It will be fun actually feed and f*** altogether. Ok, enough divagating for today.
Sunday, March 17, 2002
Sex crazy me?
I went out once with one of those sex-crazy guys for a while. I am very sex driven but this guy was sick. We meet at work, and we used to go to a motel on our lunch hour. And then go home and have sex again, before he went back to his house. And I thought it was because of the new relationship. Later he moved with me and we started having sex in the mornings before to get ready for work … and then in our lunch hour … and then again in the afternoons when we got home. And again, I though it was because we were still in a *new* relationship.
But he never laid off with the habit of having sex three times a day. So I started saying “no” sometimes. And don’t give me any shit. Common! Sex three times a day, seven days a week? The thing was, he didn’t take it very well. And I didn’t like being forced to perform oral sex with my obstructed nose, or being fucked in the midst of my dream in the mornings with my sandy mouth. By the way, have you ever tried, on those cold winters, when our nose is a bugger fabric, giving oral sex? Definitely there is no pleasure on that, at least you are a sado. It is like: suck, breath, suck, breath … really tiresome. But what can you do if your guy don’t get “no” for an answer? So I let him go … well, this is a nice way to put it. He also didn’t like that … so the police took care when he made a mess in my house … throwing beer on the curtains and ceilings, and hitting me with a chinese stick I used to wear on my hair. And I though I was sex crazy …
I went out once with one of those sex-crazy guys for a while. I am very sex driven but this guy was sick. We meet at work, and we used to go to a motel on our lunch hour. And then go home and have sex again, before he went back to his house. And I thought it was because of the new relationship. Later he moved with me and we started having sex in the mornings before to get ready for work … and then in our lunch hour … and then again in the afternoons when we got home. And again, I though it was because we were still in a *new* relationship.
But he never laid off with the habit of having sex three times a day. So I started saying “no” sometimes. And don’t give me any shit. Common! Sex three times a day, seven days a week? The thing was, he didn’t take it very well. And I didn’t like being forced to perform oral sex with my obstructed nose, or being fucked in the midst of my dream in the mornings with my sandy mouth. By the way, have you ever tried, on those cold winters, when our nose is a bugger fabric, giving oral sex? Definitely there is no pleasure on that, at least you are a sado. It is like: suck, breath, suck, breath … really tiresome. But what can you do if your guy don’t get “no” for an answer? So I let him go … well, this is a nice way to put it. He also didn’t like that … so the police took care when he made a mess in my house … throwing beer on the curtains and ceilings, and hitting me with a chinese stick I used to wear on my hair. And I though I was sex crazy …
Saturday, March 16, 2002
Good vibrations
Yes, I have a vibrator, so what? I bet half of the women you know have one. Why women hide that fact? You know, the people at the X-ray machines in the airports have a lot of fun identifying vibrators in bags and purses when we go through. I know because I used to have a friend that worked there. And she said every other woman carry one when traveling. Husbands should be pleased to know that. At least wives traveling alone are not planning on cheating … or is it the back-up plan? There is nothing more discouraging that feeling horny at home when the dick, I mean, husband is not around. So then I go … my good friend, the vibrator. It is a small, purple one, with a black back end.
Yes, I said, small. Why men don’t understand that pleasure is not about size but about touching the right places? Ok, I admit that a little thumb requires much more work on my side that a big cucumber. But again, size is not document of what a man can do in bed. Back to my vibrator. He is just what I need on those moments. Some silent, ready to please me, moving at the right speed … dick. Oh yeah, my husband knows about it. He actually surprised me one day and bought it for me. I left my old one in South America when getting on the plane on my way here … Sometimes we play with it together. It is fun! The turn-off? Finding out I’m out of battery and don’t have any spared ones. On those moments … just the magic fingers. And he has his own toy too, a rubber-ish pussy inside a flashlight-shaped metal case, to make it easy to hide. But when you remove the lid … ta taaa … there it is, the rubber-pinky-pussy, average size, that you wet with hot water and gets all slippery and all. No, it doesn’t have any hair. I told you, men don’t like the hair. And no, we don’t play with that together … what the hell am I gonna do with a fake pussy?
Yes, I have a vibrator, so what? I bet half of the women you know have one. Why women hide that fact? You know, the people at the X-ray machines in the airports have a lot of fun identifying vibrators in bags and purses when we go through. I know because I used to have a friend that worked there. And she said every other woman carry one when traveling. Husbands should be pleased to know that. At least wives traveling alone are not planning on cheating … or is it the back-up plan? There is nothing more discouraging that feeling horny at home when the dick, I mean, husband is not around. So then I go … my good friend, the vibrator. It is a small, purple one, with a black back end.
Yes, I said, small. Why men don’t understand that pleasure is not about size but about touching the right places? Ok, I admit that a little thumb requires much more work on my side that a big cucumber. But again, size is not document of what a man can do in bed. Back to my vibrator. He is just what I need on those moments. Some silent, ready to please me, moving at the right speed … dick. Oh yeah, my husband knows about it. He actually surprised me one day and bought it for me. I left my old one in South America when getting on the plane on my way here … Sometimes we play with it together. It is fun! The turn-off? Finding out I’m out of battery and don’t have any spared ones. On those moments … just the magic fingers. And he has his own toy too, a rubber-ish pussy inside a flashlight-shaped metal case, to make it easy to hide. But when you remove the lid … ta taaa … there it is, the rubber-pinky-pussy, average size, that you wet with hot water and gets all slippery and all. No, it doesn’t have any hair. I told you, men don’t like the hair. And no, we don’t play with that together … what the hell am I gonna do with a fake pussy?
Friday, March 15, 2002
Bidet … or the Prune cleaner
I can’t tell how much I miss the bidet. In North America nobody has one. Worse, most Americans don’t know what it is. When we went to South America to visit my family, I showed my husband what it was. He though the artifact was hilarious. Just in case you don’t know what it is: it is a basin, kind of like the toilette, but the water instead of going down, it goes up like in a fountain, and usually you can regulate the power of it. Sometimes the pipe is obstructed and the spurt is really weak, what it suck. Here, every time I need to wash my pussy, I need to get into the shower or the bathtub, what is terrible unaccommodating. And forget about masturbating with the worm spurt of water.
The bidet is called Prünnelwasher in Germany, what it means, literally, prune-cleaner. Mmm … never thought of that … let me get a mirror … True! Pussies look like prunes somewhat … the darkish color, and the shape … I wonder if they taste like prunes. Never actually tasted anyone, except my own of course. No, I don’t have a tongue that long. But I’ve kissed my husband after he has given me oral sex … so I tasted my own pussy. I don’t remember that tasted like a prune … it was more like fish ... a clean fish of course.
I can’t tell how much I miss the bidet. In North America nobody has one. Worse, most Americans don’t know what it is. When we went to South America to visit my family, I showed my husband what it was. He though the artifact was hilarious. Just in case you don’t know what it is: it is a basin, kind of like the toilette, but the water instead of going down, it goes up like in a fountain, and usually you can regulate the power of it. Sometimes the pipe is obstructed and the spurt is really weak, what it suck. Here, every time I need to wash my pussy, I need to get into the shower or the bathtub, what is terrible unaccommodating. And forget about masturbating with the worm spurt of water.
The bidet is called Prünnelwasher in Germany, what it means, literally, prune-cleaner. Mmm … never thought of that … let me get a mirror … True! Pussies look like prunes somewhat … the darkish color, and the shape … I wonder if they taste like prunes. Never actually tasted anyone, except my own of course. No, I don’t have a tongue that long. But I’ve kissed my husband after he has given me oral sex … so I tasted my own pussy. I don’t remember that tasted like a prune … it was more like fish ... a clean fish of course.
Thursday, March 14, 2002
Girls ... trim the bush!
Why is that some women don't shave or wax their pussies? I change clothes in the gym as well as lots of women, and so I see their bushes. Well, most of the times I can’t believe how bushy most women are! And every time I think: this person doesn’t have sex very often, or her partner doesn’t perform oral sex on her, or he does but at risk of choking with her hair, what I’m sure is not pleasant for him.
I personally wax it once a month. Yes, it hurt as hell, but it last for a month. On the other hands shaving gives me a horrible rush and ugly red bumps, and requires you do it at least every other day. So I prefer to suffer once a month. Sometimes I do it all, leaving it looking like a baby. These are the times for special occasions, anniversaries, birthdays and the likes. Other times I just do the bikini line and trim the rest very short with my husbands goatee trimmer. Men love clean and smooth pussies. I have not found one that has told me he likes hairy skin. Of course I have asked! How am I going to know what he likes if I don’t ask? Or How am I going to ask him what I like if I don’t please him as well? Haven’t you? Well, what are you waiting? We, women, love oral sex; well most of us do anyway. But have you thought about how it taste and feel to lick a hairy pussy? If you have a big bush you sure didn’t. And a hair-clean pussy is much more fun too, I can feel my husband’s tongue going back and forth in every inch and cell of my skin ... oh yeah …
A hairy pussy, in other hand, makes penetration and intercourse in general much more difficult, because the lubrication gets lost in the jungle. Oh sure! That doesn’t happened to you! Yea … every fuck is like the-first-time-Saturday-nigh-after-a-romantic-dinner … you wish. The true is sometimes we are in the mood but our body takes his time to react and, believe me, having a shave pussy helps the process. I’m not an expert or a sex therapist but I have experimented some with soft, smooth, clean, shave or wax pussy… and if you still didn’t, you don’t know what are you missing!
Why is that some women don't shave or wax their pussies? I change clothes in the gym as well as lots of women, and so I see their bushes. Well, most of the times I can’t believe how bushy most women are! And every time I think: this person doesn’t have sex very often, or her partner doesn’t perform oral sex on her, or he does but at risk of choking with her hair, what I’m sure is not pleasant for him.
I personally wax it once a month. Yes, it hurt as hell, but it last for a month. On the other hands shaving gives me a horrible rush and ugly red bumps, and requires you do it at least every other day. So I prefer to suffer once a month. Sometimes I do it all, leaving it looking like a baby. These are the times for special occasions, anniversaries, birthdays and the likes. Other times I just do the bikini line and trim the rest very short with my husbands goatee trimmer. Men love clean and smooth pussies. I have not found one that has told me he likes hairy skin. Of course I have asked! How am I going to know what he likes if I don’t ask? Or How am I going to ask him what I like if I don’t please him as well? Haven’t you? Well, what are you waiting? We, women, love oral sex; well most of us do anyway. But have you thought about how it taste and feel to lick a hairy pussy? If you have a big bush you sure didn’t. And a hair-clean pussy is much more fun too, I can feel my husband’s tongue going back and forth in every inch and cell of my skin ... oh yeah …
A hairy pussy, in other hand, makes penetration and intercourse in general much more difficult, because the lubrication gets lost in the jungle. Oh sure! That doesn’t happened to you! Yea … every fuck is like the-first-time-Saturday-nigh-after-a-romantic-dinner … you wish. The true is sometimes we are in the mood but our body takes his time to react and, believe me, having a shave pussy helps the process. I’m not an expert or a sex therapist but I have experimented some with soft, smooth, clean, shave or wax pussy… and if you still didn’t, you don’t know what are you missing!
Wednesday, March 13, 2002
Home Sick
I have been feeling home sick a lot lately. And last night one of those incidents that are *the drop that spill the water* happened. My husband went out for drinks with his co-workers after work. They invited me, but generally these happy hours involve going to a bar with a bunch of guys that drink a lot, and I barely know them so they hardy talk to me. And 99% of the times I am the only woman; so I passed. Instead I went shopping for socks and underwear for my husband; you know, men never have the time or desire to do this, so somebody has to do it for them; and then I went home and watch some TV.
He got home around 10:30 PM almost drunk, horny and talking about how much fun he has had with is co-workers, mostly because 2 female co-workers were present and they talked all night about sex, being one of the females a lesbian and all. I can't really said what it was, but I got severely irritated almost immediately. And the whole thing just reminded me how lonely I feel in those moments. I have nobody to call and vent. I have no friends in this city. I realized how *dependent* emotionally I have become of my husband, since he is the only person here for me. If I’m angry at him, on top of that I feel extremely lonely.
I have been feeling home sick a lot lately. And last night one of those incidents that are *the drop that spill the water* happened. My husband went out for drinks with his co-workers after work. They invited me, but generally these happy hours involve going to a bar with a bunch of guys that drink a lot, and I barely know them so they hardy talk to me. And 99% of the times I am the only woman; so I passed. Instead I went shopping for socks and underwear for my husband; you know, men never have the time or desire to do this, so somebody has to do it for them; and then I went home and watch some TV.
He got home around 10:30 PM almost drunk, horny and talking about how much fun he has had with is co-workers, mostly because 2 female co-workers were present and they talked all night about sex, being one of the females a lesbian and all. I can't really said what it was, but I got severely irritated almost immediately. And the whole thing just reminded me how lonely I feel in those moments. I have nobody to call and vent. I have no friends in this city. I realized how *dependent* emotionally I have become of my husband, since he is the only person here for me. If I’m angry at him, on top of that I feel extremely lonely.
