53 people have read about my sex life this week

Save my soul

There is no way I have told 53 different people about my personal site.
Perhaps you are a good friend who was confided in.
Perhaps you had a small girl confess a drunken secret.
Perhaps the url was a thank you for breaking the rules on her behalf.
Perhaps the address was revealed through clenched teeth as you smacked her bottom at a fetish event.
Perhaps you'll find out tonight when she slips through the crowds at the spring sex show.
Perhaps you found the link on her artist profile because she can be a dumb cunt and forgot to take it down.

No worries, a minute later it was removed, after possibly everyone I know has read every intimate detail of my bedroom.

So I asked myself; if I was so conscious of my privacy why was this blog ever started?
The social constructs that surround sex are preposterous. Truly. How can people hate sex so much and continue to breed?

Every person has many facets of themselves. IE. I love liddle kiddies and I want to hug them and luv them and inspire them to chase their dreams through fields of flowers. I also like to fuck people I care about. Shocking isn't it?
The very fact that this site can be construed by a potential employer as a negative is why the world needs my honesty.

Consequently, the link is back on my artist profile. People can look me up, check out my artwork, and even see my tits.
If I am treated differently by you, know that that is your failing and not mine. This site does not make me morally deficient.


Now you know that I habitually ruin my lover's linens by squirting.

You can still look me in the eye, and you can hire me for ARTWORK (only!!) based on my hard work and talent.
You can trust me with your kids, and to be polite and interesting over dinner.

Now I'm off to the sex show!!! Huzzah! I'm HOURS late, and I missed the seminar on gender bending. I wanted to dress like a prince, and open doors and stuff. BACK DOORS. OF MEN.

My site has been viewed 1076 times.
There is a special place in heaven reserved for me for that kind of social taboo deconstruction

(verb) my (noun)

MMM4 was a blast! I was asked to model my friend's body painting. I also brought my artwork to showcase. So many freaky new friends were made. I won ANOTHER fake orgasm contest, which is strange considering I never fake it. A sexy painted redhead gave her impression of the big O. Then I slid up to the microphone and crooned "Baby, you look so fine in that apron. Men in heels get me so hot. Turn around and bake some cupcakes. Now bend over and put them in the oven. Dear god! *pants* Fuck yes! Bake it for me baby! Put it in the Oven! NOW! Gaaah!"

Bwahaha! And the crowd of hardcore metal kinksters roars!

That was the second contest I won that night. The first time I was headed past the stage to the play room upstairs (to be kerspanked!). Overhearing Mistress Liz demand that the sexy Dominatrix beside her have her boots worshipped I rose the the challenge. Or rather crawled. Bowing and scraping to give her boots kisses, hoping to win her and the crowd's approval. Competition appeared, a goth girl with a fierce thirst for victory. Little did she know that this sub is a switch, and I fought her back. The Dominatrix stoically announced that I won and handed me a giant black vibrator. I was also given a year's membership to the club.

Later, having a beer, a gentleman explained to me that The Club, was in fact a swinger's club. Which mean I had to bring a partner. Also the club is a place where people have sex. I sort of figured, but I really though it meant free entry to raving industrial parties that I could get paddled at.

So now that I needed a partner, and I had an excess of dildoage. I solved both problems in one go. Turning to my friend, who is rather virginal, I gave her my extra toy and ask that she join with me. Now when we go out, we'll have each other's backs. I'll keep the creepers off her while she learns. And she can keep me from making drunken promises.



When Mathew Hennebury, friend and body painter picked me up. I ducked into his SUV and was impressed to see Mistress Liz sitting up front. This foxy older woman was porting a mohawk, a military jacket, fishnets, knee high boots, piercings galore. Within 5 minutes we were laughing about my St.Patrick's day orgy. "And I'm yelling "that's amazing!" as she squirts on my face!" Not 10 minutes later, Mistress Liz is telling me about the duality of the universe and how it reflects in s/M. I'm hoping that when I have more free time, she'll let me apprentice her while she works as a professional Dominatrix. Gee whiz! I'm going to kick so much ass!



All in all it was an excellent night. I ended up turning down all the strapping young suitors. Which is a new phase I'm going through. Most of the time I tell myself I should try having casual sex with new people. But I almost never do. And when it does happen it's within the safe confines of friendship or an implied romantic relationship. Lately, I've been approached by all sorts of beautiful, fascinating men. But I find that I'm lackluster in bed when I don't have an emotional tie. My heart gets into bed with me. Package deal, even though I try to separate them. I've come to realize all over again that sex is about intimacy for me. Physical gratification comes second. Why fight my nature?

Well, it means very little sex, when the one's I'm romantic with are far away. Luckily I have my new vibe to keep me company. Since I have a habit of naming vibes after spaceships they are as follows The Enterprise, The Tardis and now introducing--

THE DEATH STAR!
It has a whip at the hilt :D

Industrial kink singers club in Ottawa
http://www.theclubottawa.ca/events.asp

For more photos of the night, this is the body painter's site
http://www.wellfedartist.ca/WFANewsite/Pages/wholeframe.htm

As a side note. Someone raised the idea that perhaps having sex with the people you love clouds the relationship. What an unconventional notion. Instead of making love to the people you care about very deeply, to instead keep the love pure, and fuck random hotties that cross your path. It seems a little upside down to me. I believe that sex is expressing intimacy and trust, so to say that I don't want to have sex with someone I love means there's a disconnect. But I have loved, and still do, lovers with whom sex either died, or had to be cut off because the situation wasn't working. So obviously love can exist outside of sex.

Can I handle not having sex with someone I'm in love with? Absolutely. If I need to prove to them that my feelings transcend sex, I'll take the bullet. Part of me wonders if perhaps I lack experience. Which has me thinking I should really get over my love/sex inhibition and just fuck people for fun.
Meh, no worries. I've got a fleet of spaceships to explore with until I find a companion who's game for an adventure.




Your (noun) makes me so (adj.)
I want to (verb) your (adj) (noun)
I write comics about how you play with my (adj) (noun) <--Best compliment in bed.




One more comic. I should clean this up, but the point is that it was messy sex. Blood everywhere. In the house and on the patio. I was so embarrassed. But that's part of life. Pubes in your mouth, bleeding, farting, that squelchy sound you make when you get rammed. Haha! Isn't sex beautiful?

xxx
Ariadne