You’re Joking… Right?

Recently I have joked to a couple of my chat friends that I am thinking about becoming celibate. They think the concept is hilarious. In their minds and probably in their fantasies I am still the sex goddess I was when they met me. I guess in some ways I am. In many others I am not.

The last couple of years have seen a lot of changes in my life. I think, finally, I have become a grownup. I have a real job; one where I have to be responsible all the time. I am currently the only person in my household that actually has a full time job so in some ways I am kind of the breadwinner. No not really, that would be too much grown up even for me. For the first time in a long time I am thinking about the future and the direction that I want to steer my life. Probably the most grown up thing a person can do. 

What, I hear you ask, have either of those things got to do with not being a sex goddess? The answer is actually not very much. Other than my headspace is not constantly occupied with thoughts or plans for the next adventure. Something that was a key part of being a sex goddess. These days when people ask me about my fucket list my answer is; “Fucket list, oh yeh I remember what one of those is”

I just realised; another key indicator of being a grown up, I use semi colons in my writing. Or is that a side effect of being a teacher? I don’t know but it a bit freaky, here I am pouring my heart out to the void of the Internet and I am ticking off grammar and sentence structure in my head. I need a really good fuck. 

So we were talking about fucket lists. I remember that I have often said I don’t like to have a specific list. But I guess that I kind of did. I kind of remember what was on it. Right now my fucket list consists of; have sex with my husband, have sex with Engineer X. Not necessarily in that order. Logistics seem to get in the way a lot these days. People think that having small children is a drag on your sex life. Those people really have no idea. Mainly because they are yet to experience having teenagers living with you. Small children don’t know, or care, if they walk in on you having sex. They are not scarred by the experience. What’s more they go to bed at a sensible hour meaning you can actually have pre sex on the couch before you start falling asleep. Teenagers don’t do that. They want to stay up and share their rubbish idea of what is good TV and make it awkward if you want to make sexy jokes with your husband. What’s worse is they don’t go to bed nice and early so that you can invite over some special people or when you get dressed to go out and meet said special people they ask all kinds of questions about where you are going. 

Actually my teenagers have kind of got the hint that asking too many questions is not a good idea so I guess I have trained them to a certain extent but it is still awkward getting out the door some days. Mr Jones is much more concerned about that kind of thing that me. I feel more comfortable being relatively candid. He does not. So we land somewhere in between which is, by definition, awkward. I guess I just have to keep telling myself that it is only temporary. Not that I am expecting them to move out but I am definitely not going to sugar coat things for my eighteen year old children just to spare them some awkwardness. That is just creating a rod for your own back. 

It seems I have worked through and dismissed my standard list of excuses for not being sexy enough so now I am left with a task; hang up my goddess cape or stop making excuses. My friends are right, hanging up the cape is a hilarious idea. Hilarious because it is so unlikely. And because I simply don’t want to. As much as Mr Jones is irritating me right now he is just going to have to get out his impressive junk and use it on me. Because a happy wife makes for a happy life and to be happier I need more sex in my life. 

Thanks for listening Internet Void, you are the best therapist ever. 

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TMI Tuesday – Important Questions

1. If you are on facebook, when was the last time you had to “unfriend” someone and why?

I am notorious for avoiding conflict. So “unfriending” is not something I generally do. When I first read this question I could not think of the last time that I did unfriend someone. However as I was writing I remembered the last time was when Pet and I went our separate ways. It was not an acrimonious ‘break up’ by any stretch. – He decided we were done, I said O.K and that was it. I was a bit bummed by the turn of events but we are grown ups and i decided that pursuing reasons and ‘closure’ was not worth the pain. 

However I did decide that he didn’t need to be part of my Facebook world anymore. So he is no longer on my friends list. 

2. What are you addicted to?

Hard question. I guess it depends on how you define addiction. In terms of a weakness that I find hard to resist it would be shoes. My last pair are my new favourites;

Just for the record, The Fireman quite likes the new shoes as well. 

3. What are the first 3 things you do every morning?

Say good morning to Mr Jones, feed the bird, and get dressed. Not necessarily in that order. Often the bird comes first mainly because he is so loud.

He is partial to breakfast cereal but of course he doesn’t get to share my breakfast every day. 

4. How lucky are you and why?

Extremely lucky. 

• I have a fantastic husband and kids
• I live in a fantastic house and in a place with an almost perfect climate.
• I am lucky enough to have my cake and eat it. 

5. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try?

I am often embarrassed about of lots of things that I do and say. I can’t think of a thing that I have always wanted to try that I am specifically embarrassed about. One of the key things that I often find myself apologising for is wanting to try badass pole moves that involve pain and using an ‘armpit grip’. Things that look like this;

Just for the record that move fucking hurts!!!! But I love it! 
Bonus: Are you proud of what you are doing?

Absolutely yes. I am proud of the way I do my job and I believe that I put in everything for my students and that they benefit from it. I am proud of what I do on my pole. Most of all I am proud of my marriage. Together we have built a great lifestyle and family. We have established complete and habitual honesty which has made our relationship work so well. 

Sunday Selfie

About a week  ago a Facebook colleague posted a meme about duck face selfies that teenage girls seem addicted to. It was actually quite clever.

I share his frustration. It re-ignited in me the motivation to continue with a hobby I was playing with about a year ago. Trying to make selfies an art form. Or rather taking selfies that took into account some more complex ideas and angles and creating more ‘artsy’ photos instead of just a head with something significant in the background. Or alternatively a bunch of people pulling a face at the camera. 

I shared this image with a twitter friend recently. He was happy with his early morning hello and I was happy with the image. It is a bit grainy but I love the concept.

Enjoy and happy Sunday. 

Size Matters

Yes I am going there. In the years I have been blogging I have always been very careful about making such comments as the one above. In my swinging life I have been less careful when in the company of people who either are well endowed or who are pragmatic enough to understand the concept. This post was prompted by some experiences with men of a certain ethnic backgrounds that kind of demonstrated that stereotypes about size and ethnicity are just that, stereotypes and should always be taken with a grain of salt. 

So before the trolls start getting wound up let’s make something very clear. I don’t walk around with a ruler saying to prospective partners “you must be this long to enter”. I am about the whole package. A caring man who gives pleasure is very welcome whatever the size of his appendage. Just as an uncaring man with a donkey sized appendage is not. There is some discussion about length versus width a lot of which has merit. In short there are three variables, length, width and effort; the combination of these three is how it works, not an excess of one factor. Yes I am a mathematics teacher and so I did get a little excited when I saw this graph in Imagur which I feel explains it perfectly 

As the graph shows there are two red zones, “let me get my magnifying glass” and “don’t even think about touching me with that extra arm” of course these zones vary from woman to woman. For me they are significant enough to mean that size definitely matters, just not in every case. 

So the story…..

This one night Mr Jones and I went out it had been a while since we had gone to an adult venue. At the moment we are in a phase in our relationships where we are focussing on each other. For me that means encouraging Mr Jones and boosting his confidence while minimising the attention I get from men, single or otherwise. This is the source of some frustration for me but that is a topic for another post. On this night there was this guy. I am not sure why but he seemed attractive, there was not a lot on offer. Anyway after some conversation the four of us, Mr Jones, me, the guy and Mrs Guy ended up naked. Looking at the graph above he fell well into the red zone on the left. I mean, when he was fully erect I could press my face against his belly and not even feel his cock near the back of my mouth, let alone at the back of my throat. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, I am generous like that. 

Generosity did not pay off. In the effort stakes he sucked. The only redeeming quality of the evening was that Mrs Guy was amazing in a I find you fascinating, sexy and I want to be your friend on a lot of different levels way. A few weeks later we ran into her again. I freaked out when I saw her with a dark skinned man because I assumed it would be the same guy. I was very relieved when it wasn’t. New Dark Skinned Man turned out to be well and truly towards the middle of my graph with very high scores on the effort level. I like New Dark Skinned Man and hope I get to see him again sometime. 

The awkwardness happened when Intriguing Lady turned up in our lives for a third time with Mr Dissapointment. In the light of reality and less randiness he didn’t even seem attractive. Fortunately the situation was a no nakedness situation. So the awkwardness was kept to a minimum. Just for the record I am definitely NOT going there again. The moral of the story; like Caucasians,Asian men vary in size, personality and sexiness. For me, the bulk of them are not that sexy but my experiences have opened my eyes a little. 

TMI Tuesday – Interesting Random Questions

1. What is the first thing you do when you wake up?

Turn off the alarm and debate with myself about going back to sleep. Right now, in week 8 of a 10 week term I am almost at the point of counting the sleeps before the holidays start. The other crucial part of my getting up routine is cuddling the cat. Neither of us can function properly if we don’t have our morning cuddle. 

2. What is the last thing you do before you go to sleep?

Have a snuggle with Mr Jones. Sometimes it turns into more but mostly it is just a cuddl a kiss and “good night”. 

3. Are you a giver or taker?

Such a giver! Not just in bed but in everything. In bed I am definitely the one who is more likely to come away from an experience wondering what all the fuss was about. In fact reflecting back I think that was ultimately what caused my relationship with Pet to die. That and the fact he was/ is a very selfish person. 

4. If you had to give yourself a new name, what would it be?

Esmeralda Amelia Jane. In a pinch though Gemma will do. It has served me well as an alias for many years now.

5. A world-famous chef asks you to make dinner, what would you make?

Absolutely no fucking idea. Probably lasagna because that is the meal that I am famous for, in my own little kitchen anyways. 

Bonus: What’s the worst advice you ever received?

I must be a bit of a maverick because I can’t remember ever taking someone’s advice and regretting it. Either that or I have no friends that care enough to give advice to me. 

Opening the Box

Swinging can be compared to many things. A recent experience made me consider that it is like Pandora’s Box. Before you start it seems like a magical thing that can make everything right with the world. But, like the girl in the classic tale, you never really know what is in the box until you open it and once the box is opened and all the treasures come out you can never put them back in again. 

As we were becoming accustomed to Mr Jones and I encountered a couple on a recent outing that were on their first foray into the magical world of swinging. Like us they had been married for a long time. Unlike us they had married young and had missed out on the early sexual decadence that some people are lucky enough to experience in their youth. Like most new people they had no idea what to expect from a visit to a swingers club and, sadly, like a lot of new people they also had a very specific idea of what they wanted. 

I am a great believer in living out your fantasy but experience has taught me that that making a fantasy into a reality is difficult. You will never achieve exactly what you envisage in your mind; there will always be someone or something that is not exactly what you imagined. This couple, or rather Mrs Newbie, felt the need to have another penis in her life. Her husband was most obliging and had agreed for her to make that fantasy come to life. On the evening in question there were a number of penises on offer but she was fussy, not a bad thing. The penis she was looking for had to come attached to a young, tattooed, well muscled young man. Oddly enough there were no men matching her description on offer. 

The four of us chatted for a while. I explained that Mr Jones and I were in the market for a couple that particular evening. It didn’t occur to me to make it abundantly clear that I came as part of a package and the selection of said package included interaction with all parts of the package. They seemed a little dissatisfied with things and I expected that they were going to leave early. She was that kind of person, if things aren’t going the way she wants, she is out. 

This was when the box opened. On my way to the bathroom I passed them sitting at a table and chatting with a single man who definitely didn’t meet the requirements. To my surprise Mrs Newbie, reached out and pulled me towards her asking if She could kiss me. It has been a long time since I kissed a woman but it wasn’t too bad. Before I could entirely process everything that was happening we were in a room on the way to getting naked. She was very focussed on having her first girl on girl experience, even though she had said that wasn’t really what she wanted, the guys were a little awkward. Mr Newbie had his instructions, he wasn’t really part of the action for this evening but he had come prepared to watch his wife be fucked by another man, not engage in the ultimate fantasy of watching his wife with another woman and the expected extension of that fantasy, fuck the other woman himself. Mrs Newbie had explained to me that she was not interested in Mr Jones, something I was OK with because I expected that Mr Newbie was a no go for me. 

As things heated up barriers were smashed and we ended up in a situation where Mrs Newbie gave her husband the green light to play with me. It didn’t occur to her that her reluctance to interact with Mr Jones meant that I didn’t really want to play with both of them and leave my husband watching. Some people are a little selfish like that. Eventually she came up for air and what had just happened started to sink in, she commented that she felt really hot and needed a drink and some air. In a normal situation I guess her husband would have realised that this was a sign of trouble. However he was still in the throes of realising that he had, for the first time in a 20+ year relationship come perilously close to an encounter with a vagina that was not part of his wife. 

After a very flustered struggle with her underwear, (a tip for newbies, don’t wear complicated or hard to remove clothes, the can look great but they can really kill the mood when you are trying to get them off or, as in this scenario, get them on so that you can make a hasty exit) Mrs Newbie left, unknown to us, the building. Mr Newbie commented that his wife had a bit of  a tendency to flee from situations that she found challenging. He was a little reluctant to leave probably feeling that would be bad form. He wasn’t really wrong but staying when your wife is already in the car waiting for you to come and drive her away from this overwhelming situation is much worse form. 

We were not really surprised by the turn of events but we conceded that getting dressed and literally running out of the club without even saying goodbye properly is a sign that things are not OK. Once Mr Jones and I would have worried that we had done something wrong, and speculated way too much about the relationship dynamics of Mr and Mrs Newbie. But the extent of our conversation after their departure was that they were definitely going to have some things to process in the aftermath of their evening. I did go on to reflect that having your first swinging or extra martial encounter can be like opening Pandora’s box. Before you open the lid it can seem like all the wonders of the world are inside but opening the box can uncover many unexpected things some of which are the exact opposite of what you are looking for. Like the box in the story the lid can never be replaced, the repercussions of what you let out can take a long time to process.

The Pandora’s box of swinging has been at time a blessing and a curse for us. There have been many issues in our relationship that have been bought to the fore by the situations that we have found ourselves in but on the flip side we have been very fortunate that we have been able to live out many, many fantasies. In addition we have been privileged to have been able to help other people live out theirs and to help them open the Pandora’s box for themselves in a fun, non destructive kind of way. In the situation of Mr and Mrs Newbie we definitely helped them to open their personal box but I am certain they were not expecting what came out. I just hope that they are able to deal with it and don’t spend the rest of their life wishing that they had left well enough alone. 

Wish You Were Here

Dear Fireman,

I wish you were here with Mr Jones and me today sailing in one of the most beautiful places in the world enjoying the stunning Queensland weather. 

If you were here you could fish with Mr Jones. You would never be thirsty or want for anything. I would serve you drinks and food dressed in a light cotton dress. At first you wouldn’t realise that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath until you brush against me and you feel the softness of my breasts. Your curiosity will be aroused, making you watch me as I walk towards Mr Jones to fetch him another beer. The breeze catches my dress and lifts it just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of my butt. You are still not sure so you watch me as I take a seat on the couch and pick up my book.

Suddenly fishing doesn’t seem so interesting. You put your rod in the holder and without saying a word you are kneeling at the edge of the day bed. You grab my ankles and pull me over to you before you spread my knees apart. My naked pussy smiles up at you, confirming what you already knew. 

“Were you going to tell me that you weren’t wearing anything under there?” You ask even as your thumb is sliding into my slit testing the wetness there. 

It is hard for me to reply but I manage a small, “Maybe,” 

You aren’t listening, instead you have buried your face between my legs stroking the moist folds of skin, tasting my juice. Mr Jones is oblivious to what is happening even as I start to catch my breath and feel the little sounds of pleasure rising in my throat. You slip a finger into my opening while your tongue teases my clit, gently, the exact way I like it; demanding but not too hard. The first spasm is small but you are rewarded with a tiny squirt of juice which you suck eagerly from me. You put your hands around my hips holding me firmly against your mouth hungry for more juice. It is not long before you are rewarded. Your tongue and fingers work their magic until you have had your fill. You pull away from me and wipe me from your chin.

“You are such a good girl,” you say as your fingers pull open your shorts to reveal your strong, hard cock. 

My whole concentration is focussed on your cock and you know that I am starving to feel it’s soft skin sliding over my lips until you are pushing yourself against the back of my mouth. You step forward and cradle my head in your hand teasing the tip of your cock over my lips. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mr Jones watching you. An urge to push yourself past my lips and fuck my mouth is very strong but you fight it as you look back into my hungry eyes. You want to tease me, to revel in the knowledge that I am starving to worship your cock completely. Knowing that my husband is watching is an intense turn on for you, almost more than having a woman so willing to suck you. 

Eventually you cannot hold back any more and you succumb to the urge to push yourself into my mouth. You are not dissapointed, my tongue swirls over your cock and my lips press down. I suck you eagerly as if you are about to feed me the drug I have been starving for. I wrap my arms around your hips so that I can press my face against you and you feel the tiny spasm that tells you I am gagging on you. It doesn’t stop me, I take a breath and then I am sucking you again, teasing your head before taking as much of your length into my mouth as I can. My body wriggles uncontrollably as you groan in pleasure. 

Your nose catches a slight scent of my arousal and you reluctantly withdraw from my mouth. Without speaking, and acutely aware that my husband is watching you intently you flip me over on all fours so that my glistening, wet oussy is beckoning you. You catch a glimpse of Mr Jones’ bulging pants and for a moment you want to feel his cock in your mouth but my naked pussy is pushing against you, demanding to be filled. For a moment you rest your cock against my opening before sliding into the warm wet depths. It is like a homecoming. For a moment you stop, holding yourself inside me but you cannot stop yourself from starting to fuck. 

At first you take slow strokes enjoying the feeling of sliding completely out before pushing yourself back in to me. Without looking you know that my husband’s eyes are fixed on your cock and you turn slightly to give him a better view of your cock fucking my glistening wet pussy. After a few strokes you become lost in the feeling of me. Your excitement is threatening to get out of control and overwhelm you but you are not ready to cum yet. You turn your attention back to my ass and increase the pace of your strokes. Your hands grip the side of my hips, steadying me against you, controlling the speed and depth of your strokes. 

Underneath you I am sucked in to the intensity of the situation, I watch my husband’s face as he watches you fuck his wife and and I can feel your excitement building. I know I am teetering on the edge of that feeling of never wanting to stop fucking. The blissful feeling of never quite getting enough cock and always being ready to take more is overwhelming; but another need is also building in me. I am starting to crave your cum. I can feel your orgasm building and it makes me crave the feeling of your cum covering my ass and dripping down my pussy. My ass pushes against your belly asking to be covered with your warm cum. You know that is what I want, you also know that is what my husband wants. You know that he will step in as soon as you cover my ass and pussy to lick your cum from me before he puts his own cock into me to add his own stamp on me. 

Concentrating intently you hold off as long as you can. But that is not long. Soon the feeling is too strong and you whisper to both of us, 

“Are you ready?”

I can only manage a whimper but Mr Jones answers for both of us, “yes.” He has stripped off his clothing and his cock is jutting out in front of him as he leans forward to watch. He doesn’t have to wait long, after several strokes you pull out of me. I have just long enough to register a feeling of loss before I feel your warm cum splashing over my ass and pussy. You cum hard and I feel splashes on my thighs. Your hands grip me tightly until the first spasms pass and then gradually you release until you are leaning on me, breathing heavily. I hold myself still not wanting to disturb the pattern your cum has made on me until you lie down on the bed beside me to make way for Mr Jones to inspect your handiwork. 

He doesn’t dissapoint, wasting no time before he is bending over me touching your cum and smearing it around before he places his finger into his mouth to taste you. I hear the smacking of his lips before I feel his cock stroking through your cum and teasing around my opening. I know he won’t be able to control himself for much longer and my suspicions are confirmed. His cock slides into my familiar opening covered with your unfamiliar juice. I groan in excitement and push back against him in the same way that I did to you. Inviting his cum to fill me. I do not have to wait long. 

Afterwards we rest together watching the sun dip towards the horizon. A cool breeze blows over us covering us with the salt smell of the ocean. It would be easy to think that our play was over for the day but all of us know that this is just the beginning. 

TMI Tuesday – Memory Lane

Home:1. Your current home: House? Apartment? Trailer? Condo? Other?

I live in a fairly idyllic place. A four bedroom house on 1.5 acres. For an ex farm girl who finds herself living in the city it is a perfect fit. I don’t have to see the neighbours when I go into the back yard plus I get to keep poultry. 

2. Which is bigger, your childhood home or your current home?

My childhood home was a farm house on 23, 000 acres. So in terms of land the childhood home was definitely bigger. The house was physically bigger but it was a bit higgeldy piggeldy so there was a lot of space that wasn’t used very well. 

3. Which is better childhood home or current home? Why?

Both of them have their pros and cons. But I prefer my current home. Mainly because I am happier here than I was at my childhood home. 

School:

4. What was your favorite subject in school? (consider high school, college, grad school). Why was this your favorite subject?

Definitely microbiology. I found the whole concept of a world of organisms that are invisible to the naked eye fascinating. 

5. Are you currently working in a field that you studied in college?

I am a science teacher which on the surface looks like I am working in the same field but in reality it is quite different. There are some aspects of the subjects I studied at university that are the same in this job but there are a plethora of other things that are not. Prior to starting this job I also completed a degree in education. I have to say that not very much of that degree really helped me get ready for the reality of teaching. 

Job:

6. Describe your first job.

My first job was as a research assistant a C.S.I.R.O. Which is the Australian government funded scientific body. I was very much at the bottom of the ladder in this place and I did all of the jobs that were beneath the real scientists working there. My experiences there formed my opinions about the attitudes and work ethic of government workers and since that job I have avoided working in government funded positions. 

7. What was your favorite job and why?

Prior to starting work as a teacher I managed a laboratory in a milk factory. Many of the staff there were awesome people. The factory was brand new and the company that built it was establishing its brand in a new area. This made the whole community of workers extremely tight. This changed as the factory grew but those first years were awesome. 

Bonus: What haven’t we talked about in TMI Tuesday that you would like to discuss?

A couple of things; travelling and fantasies, sexual of course. 

Make sure you hit up the TMI Tuesday page for more goodness

TMI Tuesday – Back to School Week

OK I will admit that the questions this week are not about back to school. However in Australia the summer holidays finished this week and the school year has started. For me it signals the end of sleep ins, daytime naps and not having a timetable to follow; at least until December rolls around again. That will happen in 45 weeks or so. But who is counting. And so on with the questions. 

1. At work, what sets you apart from others?

This morning when I read thes questions I was feeling very positive but I received some very negative and unfair feedback today from a collegue. I like to think that I am a positive person but the thing that probably sets me apart from others is a refusal to play office politics and get caught up in he said she said games. 

2. When it comes to sex appeal, what sets you apart from others?

This question kind of stumped me a little but I asked The Fireman and he said this 

Ok … your confidence, imagination, willingness to be adventurous, and enthusiasm for the dick 🙂

Until I read this comment I had forgotten about that. But it is true. If I am in a play situation I can become insatiable for cock. Hence my last post about being taken by multiple men. It is a state of mind that gives incredible freedom. 

3. What are the big imbalances in your life?

Given the events of today I am thinking that I take a lot of things way too personally and need to stop over analysing. 

4. What is it that your family and close friends cannot do that only you can do?

When I was growing up my mother prided herself on being a good cook. She had a certain amount of talent for a certain type of cooking, namely CWA (never heard of it? Look here ) style baking etc. she thought that she was the best person to make birthday cakes. However I have surpassed her skill. As she ages her ability seems to have diminished slightly and I was more than a little chuffed when recently she declared that I was now the “go to” person in the family for celebratory cakes.  

5. Are you flexible enough? 

To do the splits? Not quite. For the record I have never been able to do the splits and so getting my body to that point is a painful challenge that I am not committed to enough. 

To be able to deal with unexpected situations as they crop up in every day life? Absolutely I would go so far as to say that it is one of the essential skills that all teachers must have and I am pleased to announce that I have it in spades. 

Bonus: What was the best news you received in 2016?

At this point I would have to say my timetable for this year. It is awesome!!! For the first time ever I am not the person in the staff room with the least planning time. That is great because it means I have time to plan sexy adventures and write about them here (I hope!).

Despite my best efforts I am not superwoman and a lurking black dog meant that I did not get this posted on time. However make sure Yu enjoy more TMI goodness at the official TMI Tuesday site. 

Just a Number

I have a friend who has a rule about her ‘Number’; it can never be greater than her age. Just prior to writing this I was skipping through TMI Tuesday posts and I came accross a question about your personal number stating that in a recent survey it was found that men found women with the number higher than 14 a little off putting. 

14???!!? Like shouldn’t that read women with an IQ of less than 41? I don’t really want to think too hard about this but I am relatively sure that I passed 14 a VERY long time ago. Even before my swinging days, maybe. I can honestly say that I have no idea what my number is. If I think about it I can remember most of the people of have shagged, I think. OK there will be ones that I have forgotten, not everyone I have met has been fantastic at sex. However the point is that my number is much higher than I or anyone else needs to think about. 

I was recently discussing the whole concept of keeping track of your number with a male friend. He was commenting that a lot of younger men like to discuss their number, obviously the higher the figure the higher their opinion of themselves. He and I were both in agreement that it is bad form for people to have this kind of approach. Mainly because it indicates that you are just chugging through partners without any thought of the quality of your input or the effort they are putting in. Really you may as well just go visit a series of glory holes. It is very disrespectful of the person who is sharing their body with you that all you think of the experience is how the notch is going to look on your bedpost. 

In my opinion being able to describe your experiences and being able to describe a life of fantasies realised is a much healthier and sexier way to live. Thinking about my number makes me feel bad about myself. There is so much confusion in my mind about what is an acceptable number and what the ramifications of a number that is too high. I am nervous sharing my feelings about my number with people because I am worried about being judged. When I think about experiences that I have enjoyed I feel strong and powerful. It gives me a sense of control over my sexuality and my life. 

There is one time when a number is perhaps a good thing; when you are planning a session of pure unadulterated lust. This year will be my 45th birthday. A conversation recently with Mrs Mikes Place about a birthday celebration involving a gang bang inspired me to make a similar birthday wish for my upcoming celebration. I am a little unsure of the exact number of men she fucked but I believe that it was somewhere in the vicinity of 20. 

I am nowhere near that ambitious. But my scenario runs something like this;

I am in a room of a swingers club, on a bed, mostly naked. I am not restrained but I am available to any man who is invited to join me. Mr Jones is beside me holding me, loving me. Standing over me my private bouncer, in consultation with Mr Jones, is in control of who has access to me. Men who come into the room can fuck me with the permission of the fireman and Mr Jones. 

My visitors are allowed to lick my pussy and fuck me. Any condoms they fill are to be left for Mr Jones and the fireman to enjoy later. While I am being fucked other men are able to explore my breasts and have their cocks sucked. They are welcome to cum on my belly and tits but they are not allowed to cum on my face. 

I don’t have a specific number of men in my mind but I doubt that I could handle more than about six or seven. Definitely no more than 10. That is the only time in my mind that a number would matter. Even then I am thinking it isn’t really an issue.