A derangement of mind.

Caption of my life

Loki – you know the one. The one mentioned in this post about sexual Liberation vs self denial. I thought it best to clarify where this man has entered my life and is causing such havoc which I didn’t expect.

The insane making bit is that he is in another country. I don’t do LDR. They are doomed before they even begin, right? Secondly… I don’t really have a secondly. The first is a pretty big one in my books. My biggest thing is to not get attached. I am attached. We aren’t exclusive, I wouldn’t expect him to be considering I’m a 13 hour flight away. He doesn’t expect me to be either from what he tells me. I’m not used to this feeling of jealousy when he mentions who he’s flirted with or wanting to get a leg over someone over there. I’ll put this down to the fact that they can get what I can’t. I hate sharing something I don’t have. I think it feeds my fear of abandonment. Daddy issues, you know.

It does fit really well with my own sexual liberation though. Because it’s all but cured me of my wish to fuck anyone else. Sexual liberation be damned, my vagina has lust for one man who it can’t get at the moment.

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Owning my inner slut. Or outter slut. Oh yes, hello!


I find it highly entertaining how often people will base judgements depending on how many people you’ve slept with.

Does it make my personality more attractive to know that I’m sexually incompetent? Does it make you feel dirty sleeping with someone who is a self-professed slut and lost track of how many people she slept with about the 150 mark? Does it matter that to this day I’ve never had an STI? Or that I probably am more cautious about my sexual health than most?

I’m not a slut, I just love love

So this, this post is about me celebrating my inner slut. Owning her, knowing her and loving her.

Tell me something new
Cause I’ve heard this
Okay I’ll fuck you
A little taste test
You’ll be my little friend
You’ll be my little friend
You’ll be my little friend

You see, to preface, I found penis late in life. I was a lesbian until the age of about 21. I fell in love with a man from work and we went there. My first consensual mutual sexual encounter left a lot to be desired. I remember calling my cousin as I walked home to tell her I did “it” and she was a bit surprised at how inanimate I was talking about it. Almost scientific in my explanations and deductions on how it felt. She laughed a lot at me.

Don’t worry, it definitely got better. When my then first boyfriend proposed to me, I freaked out and broke up with him.

Cue my endless parade of penis. I’m sure some of them were attached to men, however the rest never really registered much. I was going through and catching up on the years that I’d denied myself the pleasure of this piece of a meat belonging to a man. That sounds rather objectifying no? Good.

And they think we fall in love
But that’s not it
Just want to get some
Ain’t that some shit
You’ll be my little friend
You’ll be my little friend
You’ll be my little friend
Yeah, yeah yeah

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Quarter mile high club? – Road Tripping Memories

Following on from my last fuck filled night in Vegas – our jaunt out of Vegas was just as much fun on the Greyhound.

Goodbye Las Vegas! Thanks for the concrete burn! <3

We were seedy, hung over like hell and hadn’t eaten anything by the time we loaded the bus at about 8 am. We crawled to the back of the bus and he wedged himself in the corner and I literally threw myself over him and we went back to sleep.

We woke up somewhere on the outskirts of Nevada and had a brief chat. Yes, his head hurt. Yes my head hurt. No I had no water. Oh he did in his backpack. Fantastic. No headache tablets. What’s the next stop again? I need more sleep. So we snuggled back into it and passed out.

Next we woke up and I think we were in Arizona. My head was pounding like a bitch and somehow my hand had ended up in his crotch with my face not too far behind on his stomach. Well hello there Mr Throbber. He might have been asleep but his other parts weren’t! I decided to behave myself until at least the bus was a bit less “full of people”. I didn’t want to be kicked off in the middle of Arizona with no idea where I was and a killer hang over.

And I know “sexual” things weren’t allowed on Greyhounds, the man driving told us so before starting the bus up and leave. Maybe I had a sign on my forehead that he noticed as I climbed on to the bus??

I think I went back to sleep. With my hand cupping his hard on. Some girls like teddy bears, what can I say? I like a full raging boner to snuggle.

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What happens in Vegas…

Ends up on my blog. Damn straight.

My last night in Vegas was definitely something to write home about. Or possibly not.

Post card message home… From Vegas. With love.

You see, I had this greyhound pass. That for a month let me get on and off greyhounds at will. Travel anywhere, anytime. So that morning I trotted down the greyhound station and made sure I got a ticket for the bus that night to El Paso to see a friend. Not a problem, they booked me into the bus that was taking off about 8pm. Win. I left to go shopping. Because that’s what I do best when hungover. Well, shop and fuck. But we come to that latter bit later.

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