What better way to spend the longest night of the year than to cuddle up with your friends and lovers and sing pagan songs? Here are my revised versions of a couple of popular Christmas songs. Enjoy...
SWINGING AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
Swinging around the Christmas Tree
at the Christmas play party hop
Strap-ons worn where you can see
No horny girl wants to stop
Swinging around the Christmas tree
Let the pagan spirit sing
Later we'll have some pussy pie
and we'll do some fellating
You will get a sentimental feeling
when you hear
voices singing "Let's be poly;
Lick his balls like a big lolly!"
Swinging around the Christmas Tree
Have a happy holiday
Everyone fucking merrily
In a new, old-fashioned way!
THE TWELVE DAYS OF SOLSTICE
On the first day of Solstice, my true love gave to me…
A peacock in a fig tree
On the second day...two rubber gloves
On the third day...three French men
On the fourth day...four calling girls
On the fifth day...five gold cock rings
On the sixth day...six chicks a-laying
On the seventh day...seven sperm a-swimming
On the eighth day...eight maids a-milking
On the ninth day...nine fairies dancing
On the tenth day...ten Toms a-peeping
On the eleventh day...eleven pipers pumping
On the twelfth day...twelve lovers coming
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
A Strange Titillation
He broke our agreement. Charlie and I agreed that he would have a date with my friend Athena on a Sunday night while I was on a two-day writers retreat with the Princess Slut. We discussed every boundary, scoured every possible area of misunderstanding, smoothed over every foreseen wrinkle, or so it seemed. He assumed I would be royally entertained in the arms of the Princess Slut all of two nights. It turned out she was staying only one night, and we were both too exhausted for sex the first night. I felt safe spooning her in Montauk, knowing that my love was playing with my goddess friend back in Manhattan. I trusted them both--no need to escape into wild sex to distract myself.
I returned to the city content with the fire of creative productivity and the buzz of female bonding. I listened to my love relate his date, sexual summary included. I felt only tiny twinges of jealousy, until Sunday blended to Monday and one date extended into two nights of pleasure. (The agreement was for one date, not two, nor one and a half). It was challenging enough that he stayed overnight at her place. The fact that he went back for more on Monday was a slap in my crotch.
But that's not the point of this story. I'll just say we worked through the silence, the anger, the hurt, the betrayal, the assumptions. All was well again by the next morning. At least all was well between us. I still felt strange about Athena. She was hosting a play party that Charlie and I were planning on attending. On that day she told me over the phone that she could fall in love with Charlie. Naturally, I was wary. Would they exchange knowing glances behind my back? Would I feel jealous, even though Athena made it clear that she was backing off?
During the round robin massage portion of the party, Athena asked me if Charlie could be in her group. I thought it over and got back to her a few minutes later with a yes. Yes, I would give her that small pleasure, because she is my friend and I want everyone to be in harmony. Harmonious intentions notwithstanding...although the massage was strictly therapeutic and non-sexual, I couldn't help glancing over at the next table to see how they handled each other. His hand is kneading her flesh rather close to her pussy...
It's strange watching your lover interact with someone you know he has fucked. It would have been excruciating if he had lied and cheated. (Can you believe I've never been cheated on?!) But to give him my blessing to be with a woman I know and like...and then see them together afterward, that is strange. I can't say that I felt jealous. Nor can I say that I was thrilled for them. Instead, I was titillated by the mystery of what they shared. I will never know how he appeared before he penetrated her, or what things she said to him when they kissed. Did he cock his head and flash her his devilishly seductive grin just as he pushed her onto the bed? Did he moan with pleasure at the moment she surrounded his plush head with her lips? Did he moan in the same way he moans for me--surrendering to the ecstasy of a long-awaited offering? There are no answers to these questions, even if I were to ask them. Even if he were to tell me, "I looked at her like this, and then she laughed with girlish delight when she grabbed my rock-hard cock..." I still wouldn't know exactly what they looked like, exactly how they felt. I would never feel the energy that stirred between them during each moment of their one-on-one experience. I'd rather live with the mystery of these intimate details than hear them distilled through inadequate words, wasted words that may sting all the more for their inadequacy.
Yet as I watched him massaging her thighs with knowing hands, I chaffed with the thought that her body is familiar to him. Maybe I was a little jealous after all, jealous of his knowingness--that he knows her crevices and how to make them sing. I did not yet know her in this way.
And I didn't expect to get to know her that evening. I imagined that it would be too weird, whether it would be her and me or the three of us together. But when she expressed her desire to be passive with us, to wear a blindfold while we played doctor and nurse, I couldn't resist. I surprised myself with my willingness.
***
Although Dr. Bigcock has more credentials, we worked together as a team to treat our patient Athena. With his medical expertise and my intuition, we not only found the cause of her malaise, but successfully treated her using the most advanced techniques. I took her temperature, checked her vitals, examined her mouth and genitals while Dr. Bigcock stood back, taking note of symptoms and assessing the patient's reactions. As he mentored me all through nursing school, he fully trusts my capabilities as a healer, so much so that he lets me take charge--especially in this case. Athena responded successfully to my treatments; insertion of the red vaginal probe was smooth and effective, while the doctor's rapid manual vibrational therapy worked wonders. The treatment was so successful that the patient covered her face with a pillow (to muffle her convalescent screams). After Athena was released, Dr. Bigcock laid down to rest and receive his own special treatment from me, well-deserved after such a challenging case. Athena returned shortly for a follow-up appointment, and it was obvious that her symptoms had cleared and she was once again fully functioning in a state of optimal health.
History tells us that "clinical" stimulation cures a woman suffering from hysteria. But how do you heal a broken V? Dr. Bigcock and I agree: turn it into a triangle and thank her in the morning.
I returned to the city content with the fire of creative productivity and the buzz of female bonding. I listened to my love relate his date, sexual summary included. I felt only tiny twinges of jealousy, until Sunday blended to Monday and one date extended into two nights of pleasure. (The agreement was for one date, not two, nor one and a half). It was challenging enough that he stayed overnight at her place. The fact that he went back for more on Monday was a slap in my crotch.
But that's not the point of this story. I'll just say we worked through the silence, the anger, the hurt, the betrayal, the assumptions. All was well again by the next morning. At least all was well between us. I still felt strange about Athena. She was hosting a play party that Charlie and I were planning on attending. On that day she told me over the phone that she could fall in love with Charlie. Naturally, I was wary. Would they exchange knowing glances behind my back? Would I feel jealous, even though Athena made it clear that she was backing off?
During the round robin massage portion of the party, Athena asked me if Charlie could be in her group. I thought it over and got back to her a few minutes later with a yes. Yes, I would give her that small pleasure, because she is my friend and I want everyone to be in harmony. Harmonious intentions notwithstanding...although the massage was strictly therapeutic and non-sexual, I couldn't help glancing over at the next table to see how they handled each other. His hand is kneading her flesh rather close to her pussy...
It's strange watching your lover interact with someone you know he has fucked. It would have been excruciating if he had lied and cheated. (Can you believe I've never been cheated on?!) But to give him my blessing to be with a woman I know and like...and then see them together afterward, that is strange. I can't say that I felt jealous. Nor can I say that I was thrilled for them. Instead, I was titillated by the mystery of what they shared. I will never know how he appeared before he penetrated her, or what things she said to him when they kissed. Did he cock his head and flash her his devilishly seductive grin just as he pushed her onto the bed? Did he moan with pleasure at the moment she surrounded his plush head with her lips? Did he moan in the same way he moans for me--surrendering to the ecstasy of a long-awaited offering? There are no answers to these questions, even if I were to ask them. Even if he were to tell me, "I looked at her like this, and then she laughed with girlish delight when she grabbed my rock-hard cock..." I still wouldn't know exactly what they looked like, exactly how they felt. I would never feel the energy that stirred between them during each moment of their one-on-one experience. I'd rather live with the mystery of these intimate details than hear them distilled through inadequate words, wasted words that may sting all the more for their inadequacy.
Yet as I watched him massaging her thighs with knowing hands, I chaffed with the thought that her body is familiar to him. Maybe I was a little jealous after all, jealous of his knowingness--that he knows her crevices and how to make them sing. I did not yet know her in this way.
And I didn't expect to get to know her that evening. I imagined that it would be too weird, whether it would be her and me or the three of us together. But when she expressed her desire to be passive with us, to wear a blindfold while we played doctor and nurse, I couldn't resist. I surprised myself with my willingness.
***
Although Dr. Bigcock has more credentials, we worked together as a team to treat our patient Athena. With his medical expertise and my intuition, we not only found the cause of her malaise, but successfully treated her using the most advanced techniques. I took her temperature, checked her vitals, examined her mouth and genitals while Dr. Bigcock stood back, taking note of symptoms and assessing the patient's reactions. As he mentored me all through nursing school, he fully trusts my capabilities as a healer, so much so that he lets me take charge--especially in this case. Athena responded successfully to my treatments; insertion of the red vaginal probe was smooth and effective, while the doctor's rapid manual vibrational therapy worked wonders. The treatment was so successful that the patient covered her face with a pillow (to muffle her convalescent screams). After Athena was released, Dr. Bigcock laid down to rest and receive his own special treatment from me, well-deserved after such a challenging case. Athena returned shortly for a follow-up appointment, and it was obvious that her symptoms had cleared and she was once again fully functioning in a state of optimal health.
History tells us that "clinical" stimulation cures a woman suffering from hysteria. But how do you heal a broken V? Dr. Bigcock and I agree: turn it into a triangle and thank her in the morning.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Old Flame, New Love
There's only one excuse for falling behind with this blog: falling in love. Actually, the fall began several months ago. I loved him, but he was still entrenched in a lustless marriage. He loved me, but I was not revealing my whole self to him. We loved each other through walls painted with pretty pictures of hot sex. Sometimes I wanted to peel off those pictures, throw them in his face, and leave him to his marital counseling. Instead I gave him compassion. So I peeled off bits of the pretty pictures for nearly a year while distracting myself with other lovers.
In my final column for New York Press, I wrote that this lover--I'll call him Charlie, and I rediscovered our joy together at a film festival. Yet the questions remained. Would he ever have sex with his wife again? How many more months would he work on his marriage? How much longer would I put up with the situation? Even if his marriage were to end, would anything change between us? I wasn't even sure we were compatible enough to sustain a passionate, intimate, soul-connected relationship. When an undeniable obstacle is present in a relationship (e.g. one person is stuck in a marriage), the mind tends to create other obstacles to justify the imbalance.
And the heart tends to look elsewhere. At another film festival, I met a guy (with a funny name) who intoxicated me with an openness and a depth recalling the mysterious layers of my first love. Then while I was at a writing retreat in Vermont, Charlie called to tell me that he was done with his marriage. I was genuinely happy for him, but what did it mean for us? Our relationship had improved during the film festival. But now that the wall was down, would we grow closer? This change came at a time when I was questioning polyamory and falling for someone else--the guy with the funny name, a.k.a. Mr. Monogamous.
Crushing passion deluded me into believing that Mr. Monogamous and I would merge our ideals into a dynamic fusion. I would either abandon my libertine lifestyle for the innocent bliss of monogamy or seduce him into a compromised version of polyamory. Either way, we would be passionately in love. But I was meowing up the wrong cock.
He was too much of a beginner. Intrigued, but not curious enough. I thought I could give up polyamory and sex parties for a chance at the perfect love...WHAT WAS I THINKING? I can never go back. I will never be twenty again. Once you taste the delights of group sex, especially when it lives within an integrity-minded community of sexy people who become your friends, your supporters, your lovers, your family, you cannot go back to a vanilla life. As heartbreaking as it was when he pulled away from me, I am so grateful now that he did. If he hadn't, I might not have seen the perfection of the relationship right in front of me...
A week after Charlie told me he was done with his marriage, he told his newly-ex wife about us. After a year of his living in fear that she would be crushed by this knowledge, and my living with the burden of being denied for the sake of another, she wasn't surprised. Not only that, she was totally okay with it.
So here we are, Charlie and me, completely free with each other for the first time in a year! Within hours of his disclosure, energy began to shift between us. My icy airs dissolved as his beastly lust softened. Restrained kisses melted into sensual exchanges of loving lips. His cock, which used to be painfully large, was now beautifully endowed, sliding inside me with lubricious ease. Our mutual climax propelled us to a higher plane of ecstatic love. Transcendentally moved, we looked at each other with new eyes.
I've experienced a similar transformation in previous relationships, after a period of separation, or following a confession of repressed information or emotion. Time apart often realigns bonded lovers who find themselves in disharmony. A positive disclosure has the same effect as a reunion; the release of tension breaks down the dam of disconnect, allowing pure love to flow through, resulting in a blissful balance of familiarity and newness. Yet those previous experiences, as intense as they were, involved lovers who either didn't know me well enough, or didn't see me for who I am.
Enter Charlie. I no longer push him away in annoyance or perform fellatio with a sense of obligation. I no longer delay returning his phone calls or ignore his emails. How interesting that it no longer seems like he calls too much! Are his kisses truly sweeter or is it only my perception that has changed? Probably a combination of both. He told me once, "I don't think I could domesticate with you." I didn't see that happening either. Yet he's been living with me for the past couple of months--a temporary situation until he moves in with a friend. Our cohabitation couldn't be more harmonious. And I couldn't be more thrilled...
Of course! After a year of experience together, I can relinquish my role as sex ambassador. Now he's at a place in his life where he has the freedom and desire to take his exploration further...with me as his partner in crime. Arrest me please, darling. This is only the beginning.
In my final column for New York Press, I wrote that this lover--I'll call him Charlie, and I rediscovered our joy together at a film festival. Yet the questions remained. Would he ever have sex with his wife again? How many more months would he work on his marriage? How much longer would I put up with the situation? Even if his marriage were to end, would anything change between us? I wasn't even sure we were compatible enough to sustain a passionate, intimate, soul-connected relationship. When an undeniable obstacle is present in a relationship (e.g. one person is stuck in a marriage), the mind tends to create other obstacles to justify the imbalance.
And the heart tends to look elsewhere. At another film festival, I met a guy (with a funny name) who intoxicated me with an openness and a depth recalling the mysterious layers of my first love. Then while I was at a writing retreat in Vermont, Charlie called to tell me that he was done with his marriage. I was genuinely happy for him, but what did it mean for us? Our relationship had improved during the film festival. But now that the wall was down, would we grow closer? This change came at a time when I was questioning polyamory and falling for someone else--the guy with the funny name, a.k.a. Mr. Monogamous.
Crushing passion deluded me into believing that Mr. Monogamous and I would merge our ideals into a dynamic fusion. I would either abandon my libertine lifestyle for the innocent bliss of monogamy or seduce him into a compromised version of polyamory. Either way, we would be passionately in love. But I was meowing up the wrong cock.
He was too much of a beginner. Intrigued, but not curious enough. I thought I could give up polyamory and sex parties for a chance at the perfect love...WHAT WAS I THINKING? I can never go back. I will never be twenty again. Once you taste the delights of group sex, especially when it lives within an integrity-minded community of sexy people who become your friends, your supporters, your lovers, your family, you cannot go back to a vanilla life. As heartbreaking as it was when he pulled away from me, I am so grateful now that he did. If he hadn't, I might not have seen the perfection of the relationship right in front of me...
A week after Charlie told me he was done with his marriage, he told his newly-ex wife about us. After a year of his living in fear that she would be crushed by this knowledge, and my living with the burden of being denied for the sake of another, she wasn't surprised. Not only that, she was totally okay with it.
So here we are, Charlie and me, completely free with each other for the first time in a year! Within hours of his disclosure, energy began to shift between us. My icy airs dissolved as his beastly lust softened. Restrained kisses melted into sensual exchanges of loving lips. His cock, which used to be painfully large, was now beautifully endowed, sliding inside me with lubricious ease. Our mutual climax propelled us to a higher plane of ecstatic love. Transcendentally moved, we looked at each other with new eyes.
I've experienced a similar transformation in previous relationships, after a period of separation, or following a confession of repressed information or emotion. Time apart often realigns bonded lovers who find themselves in disharmony. A positive disclosure has the same effect as a reunion; the release of tension breaks down the dam of disconnect, allowing pure love to flow through, resulting in a blissful balance of familiarity and newness. Yet those previous experiences, as intense as they were, involved lovers who either didn't know me well enough, or didn't see me for who I am.
Enter Charlie. I no longer push him away in annoyance or perform fellatio with a sense of obligation. I no longer delay returning his phone calls or ignore his emails. How interesting that it no longer seems like he calls too much! Are his kisses truly sweeter or is it only my perception that has changed? Probably a combination of both. He told me once, "I don't think I could domesticate with you." I didn't see that happening either. Yet he's been living with me for the past couple of months--a temporary situation until he moves in with a friend. Our cohabitation couldn't be more harmonious. And I couldn't be more thrilled...
Of course! After a year of experience together, I can relinquish my role as sex ambassador. Now he's at a place in his life where he has the freedom and desire to take his exploration further...with me as his partner in crime. Arrest me please, darling. This is only the beginning.
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