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Sinful Sunday 1 – A First Peek

I’ve enjoyed Sinful Sunday for quite some time and finally found the courage to participate. I’m a voyeur at heart so I’m really having to push myself to do this. Accepting that I’ll never have my 20 something hardbody again has been difficult, but I’m finally gaining more confidence in the softness and curves of my 40s.


See who else is being Sinful today.


And The Earth Kept Spinning On and On

I’m awake early on a beautiful Saturday morning. I checked, the earth is still spinning on its axis, the sin is still shining, hell didn’t freeze over. Now can we please call it marriage and move on?

I spent much of yesterday celebrating the historical Supreme Court decision. Texts, phone calls, Twitter and my Muggle Facebook page were lit up with rainbows. I have some very religious friends. Friends I know we’re not happy yesterday. They graciously stayed out of the celebration and didn’t dump their bigoted shit on my FB page. In some cases that surprises me. In others I know they don’t agree, but they respect our friendship enough to not argue. It makes me respect them for giving my friends and me the opportunity to celebrate and repost and retweet rainbows and unicorns all day long.

Six people unfriended me on Facebook. I suppose that should upset me, but it doesn’t. I posted nothing offensive to them. I didn’t call anyone homophobes or bigots. If they can’t handle some rainbows and happiness, them fuck ’em. I don’t need that negativity in my life.


Things with The Nerd (TN) are good. Personally I’d be happiest with sex 2 or 3 times a day. Between Twitter, email, DMs and my own imagination, I’m in a fairly constant state of arousal. Unfortunately, stress, middle age and medication have taken their toll on TN and keeping pace with me just isn’t feasible, but things are getting better. I don’t know if it’s possible to get our libidos to sync at this point, but at least I feel the sting of rejection far less than I used to.

While I’m talking about sex drives, I have to rant a bit. I’m so fucking tired of reading that menopause is pretty much the end of a woman’s sexuality. So many resources talk about decreased libido, vaginal dryness and all around apathy toward sex. I read something the other day that said menopause was the end of a woman’s sex life. I’m sorry, but what a load of tripe. I’ve gone through early menopause. 46 is early to be done, but I am and it’s fantastic. No more worries about getting pregnant. No need for contraception. Since I could never take any form of hormonal birth control, the only time he could ever come inside me without a condom was when we were trying to get pregnant. Not having to worry about that has made me relax and given me such freedom. I’m sure it partly explains why my libido has come roaring back to life with such a vengeance.


TN played with me nipples until I came this morning. We had a rocking good time last night so that was enough for him. I declared it a new rule that he has to make me come every morning. We’ll see how long that lasts.

TMI Tuesday


1. What would you eat for your “last supper”?
Grilled steak with sautéd mushrooms and a baked potato.

2. Name 3 interesting and unique things to do in your town/city/region.

  • Dinner at The Signature Room on the 95th—the views are spectacular and it’s where TN and I had our first date. 🙂
  • Hiking at a state park—Waterfalls, trees, wildlife. Cliffs that make you forget you’re in Illinois. Gorgeous.
  • Festivals—Many towns and city neighborhoods have a Fest of some sort throughout the summer. They have an element of Americana kitsch, which for me is the appeal. From parades to amusement rides to big name concerts, they have something for everyone.

3. Tell us 2 things that terrify you.
That I’m doing something that will fuck up my kids as adults. I have a lot of examples of what NOT to do from my own childhood and I don’t make those mistakes, but I worry I’m doing something else that will put them on a therapy couch in 20 years.

Driving on mountain roads, well, riding in a car on mountain roads; I’m too scared to drive. I always feel like we’re going to go over the edge of a cliff. I love the mountains and the views are always amazing, but my heart is racing the entire time.

4. Give us your best sex tip.
I have two. First, tell your partner what works for you. It’s the best way for both of you to truly enjoy experience. Second, it’s OK laugh during sex. Sometimes funny stuff happens: body parts slip, noises are made, positions don’t work. Looking back on my favorite sex memories, there was a lot of laughing during or after. Love that.

5. What do you have that you need to throw away?
College textbooks and notes. I have no idea why I thought I needed to keep them. It might be fun to go back and look at them, but they need to go into the recycling bin.

Bonus: Would you participate in a sex organ beauty pageant? Why or why not?
Probably not. I’m much more of a voyeur than exhibitionist. Also I have spent too many years mocking every kind of beauty pageant because I don’t like what they celebrate. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that jazz.

Celebratory Sex

I totally used the Blackhawks to get laid. Considering the slump I felt we were headed into, winning the Stanley Cup seemed like the perfect opportunity to snap The Nerd out of his funk. I made the move. I told him we were having celebratory sex. I didn’t flirt, I didn’t ask. I told him. After the evening house stuff was done, I went to his den, kissed his neck and told him he’d better finish his video game, because when I was done with my shower, we were going to fuck. He actually seemed to like me being so assertive. It certainly gave me an unexpected thrill. When I finished my shower, he still wasn’t upstairs so I sent him a text.

I’m naked. Get up here. 

And he did! Yep, definitely felt a reaction between my legs.

Unfortunately, foreplay went from 0 to 60 in about 3 seconds and I tensed up. My body was ready to come, but brain wasn’t letting me. I slowed things down and just pushed against him kissing him. I’m a big fan of kissing and it was helping me relax. He asked me what I wanted. Said I could have anything I wanted. I froze. I have such a hard time opening up and telling him what I really want because I’m worried how he’ll react. He’s not totally vanilla, but he’s also not super adventurous.

A little backstory—Part of my sexual reawakening that started last fall was acknowledging the fantasies I’ve always had but not necessarily understood. I suppose to sounds odd to some of you that I didn’t realize until I was 46 how much I liked rough sex. I have fantasized about it, I have asked him to tie me up (he always declined), and I always felt there was something wrong with me for entertaining these fantasies. I have a complicated history with non-consensual power struggles in sexual situations, which has made me ashamed of these all of my adult life.

I’m working really hard to open up to him and tell him the dirty things in my head. I’m finding that I have to go slowly and give him time to process. The first time I asked him to spank me, he said he couldn’t hurt me. It took a lot of talking to convince him that I wanted to feel the sting of his hand. Once he saw how body reacts, it became easier for him. He says that he still doesn’t necessarily like it, but that he likes what it does for/to me. He’s promised to tell me any time he doesn’t want to. I don’t ever want to push him into something he’s not comfortable with. I trust him to tell me the truth.

That backstory is important because even though I would love nothing more than to be put over his knee and spanking till my ass is burning red, it’s not something I’ve been able to ask because I’m certain it’s not something he’s ready for. (Yeah, yeah, I know. I should talk to him. I’m working on it.) So last night when I slowed things down, we were kissing and groping and it was lovely. Then he asked what I wanted. He said I could have anything I wanted. I wimped out and didn’t ask to be put over his knee, but I did tell him that I needed some pain to shut my brain off. He obliged and pulled my hair, hard, and I felt my thoughts begin to quiet and the tension leave my body. By the time he ordered me onto my hands and knees and spanked me a couple of times, I could feel the wetness dripping out of me and I was coming in repeatedly. He didn’t spank me nearly enough, but he did fuck me hard.

Baby steps.


TMI Tuesday

this-is-tmi_tmi 1. Tell us about something that recently happened with you that is truly “too much information”.
This may not be too much information for you, but it certainly was to the unsuspecting lady sitting in front of me at a piano recital over the weekend. I went commando under my maxi skirt. No big whoop until it turned out to be ridiculously hot and humid in the concert hall. I hitched my skirt up to my knees and starting fluffing it for some air. The rows rise at a pretty steep angle. The woman in the seat ahead of me turned around to talk to someone just as I lifted my skirt giving her a view straight up my skirt. (No such thing as crossing your legs like a lady when it’s 85 degrees and rising in a crowded hall auditorium.) I  have no idea what she saw. She did give me a sideways glance at the refreshment table later so I guess I’ve made an impression on the other music moms. Heh.

2. Share with us a tale of “too much information” that someone shared with you (and you wished they hadn’t).
I have a good friend who is pretty open about her love of blowjobs, sex and porn when she’s around our group of women friends. We recently included spouses at a gathering in an attempt get to know everyone better. The wine and cocktails were were flowing fast. She very drunkenly started telling everyone about her mad skillz at blowjobs, described her husband’s cock in very specific detail and regaled us with the story of their recent attempt to recreate a scene from bad porn. I’m all for being sex positive, but I don’t need to know the specific idiosyncrasies of his cock, especially when I see him in the carpool line at school regularly.

3. Do you or your significant other use the toilet while the other is in the bathroom doing something else? Do you mind?
Our master bathroom has a separate water closet, so we can actually use the toilet in private. We rarely shut the door though. You can’t see into it from anywhere but the shower, so we’re able to maintain visual privacy and still have a conversation. The Nerd is British, so this was a big change for him. When we first moved in together, he’d go into the bathroom and lock the door. I promised I’d never barge in, but that’s what he was used to from his childhood, so that’s what he did. I know I embarrassed him with my open door policy at first, but after nearly two decades here, he’s come around to my more open American ways.

4. Will you make a bowel movement when your significant other is in the bathroom?
No! We both definitely want privacy for that.

5. Toilet paper, yes or no?
Is not using toilet paper really a thing? Yuck. I’m going to use this opportunity to say that TP should always be hung up so it unwinds OVER the roll. The Nerd thinks it should unroll under. Clearly, he is wrong. Since replacing TP seems to be too challenging for anyone in this house, I end up replacing 90% of the rolls. Therefore, I get to do it my way. In the off chance that someone actually does replace it, I will switch it if they put it on the wrong way. 😉

Bonus: What did you do this weekend? Did you have fun?
Went to a graduation party. Watched my beloved Chicago Blackhawks up the series to 3-1 Went to the above-mentioned piano recital. Lots of fun, but not enough downtime. Plus the weather sucked.

Deep Breaths

The Nerd seems to have fallen into another not-very-sexual period and I’m trying to be cool about it and not freak out. I noticed a few days ago that although we’ve been having fantastic sex, I’m the one who has initiated it the past couple of weeks. Every.single.time. His participation has become rote. Spank here, stroke there. Lick here, fuck there. Granted, it’s awesome, I have many orgasms and I don’t think he’s phoning it in. He’s found something that’s working well for both of us so he has no motivation or inclination to change it up too much. I was so busy getting fucked and coming hard that I didn’t even realize it was becoming formulaic until Friday.

Unfortunately, we’ve been down this rabbit hole before. First it’s the repetitive sex. Then it’s him never initiating. Eventually he turns me down when I do initiate. That’s where we’re at now. He casually laughed off all of my not-so-subtle advances over the weekend. He also removed himself from any opportunity by bounding out of bed in the morning or staying up super late.

I can live without shagging for a bit. I’ll masturbate. I’ll flirt on Twitter. I’ll have sexy chats by DM or Kik. But I can’t, I won’t, live without intimacy. We did that for far too long. I need skin-on-skin contact. I need to be kissed deeply. I need naked cuddles at night while we watch TV or talk about our days.

I was the initial reason for our dead bedroom. Pregnancy, exhaustion, postpartum depression and antidepressants were a toxic combo that killed my libido. It led to a feedback loop where we both felt it was entirely the other’s fault. As the months turned into years, we were fantastic roommates, but nothing more. I still loved him and we got along brilliantly except for this one issue. I clawed my way out of that hole eventually and I wholly own the damage I did. We’ve worked through it. He’s accepted my apology. I was finally able to let go of my guilt once and for all about three months ago. That was the last time we were in this rut.

It only takes a short time in this cycle of repetition and lack of intimacy for me be thrown back into the throes of guilt and resentment.

“I denied him for so long, I don’t deserve to be sexually fulfilled now.”

“He knows what it feels like to be rejected. Why is he doing this to me?”

“He pushed and begged for sex for so long and now that I throw myself at him, he refuses me? Fuck that.”

In some twisted version of use-it-or-lose-it, I get really anxious that I’m going to lose my libido again. I don’t want to turn into that person who always says no. I don’t want to be his roommate. I want him to be as concerned with nurturing our sexual relationship as I am. I want him to want me as desperately as I want him. Maybe it’s very early menopause. Maybe it’s making up for lost time. Either way, I’m damned near insatiable. I’d be doing it twice a day if I had my way. He’d do it twice a week. We average two or three times a week, which works for both of us because we still have the other intimacy. The problem is when he’s in this rut, I don’t get laid and I don’t get cuddled. That freaks me out. I get anxious about it. I get stabby. I feel vulnerable.

I guess the plus side is I know what’s happening this time. I know that he doesn’t blame me and this is a phase. I know we’ll get through it with time and talking about it. In the mean time, I’ll be shopping for a new vibrator to add a little variety to my solo sessions. Any suggestions?

Let’s start with an introduction

I’m a 40-something woman living in the suburbs. I’ve been married to my wonderful husband, The Nerd, for almost 16 years. We have three kids, two dogs, a cat and a hamster. I quit my professional career when my oldest was born. Being a stay-at-home mom (even though I’m rarely at home) fills me with immense love and mind-numbing boredom, sometimes simultaneously. I wouldn’t trade it for the world and yet there are still times I wish I were going to corporate meetings instead of PTA meetings.

For longer than I care to admit to myself, The Nerd and I had an almost dead bedroom, mostly due to exhaustion, postpartum depression and antidepressants. We found our way out of the dark time last year—I’ll tell the story soon, promise—and jumped right into a different set of struggles. I think we’re finally past the worst of them. In the meantime, I’ve begun to acknowledge, and dare I say understand, some of the kinks I’ve suppressed for most of my life. I’m very slowly revealing them to The (vanilla) Nerd so that I don’t scare him too much. Even though I’ve always been pretty confident about telling him what works for me sexually, I’m finding it makes me feel insecure and vulnerable to share just how kinky I am. Having said all that, I’m fucking middle-aged and that makes me want to live more authentically. I don’t want to waste any more time hiding my true self. I want to push my limits. I want to explore these things with him.

I have no idea what direction this blog will go. My best guess is it will be part brain dump, part therapy, and part sexy writing. I used to write professionally and I miss it. Not the bullshit from the job, but the actual writing. Hopefully this blog will scratch both my creative itch and my kinky itch.

Welcome to my little corner of internet. Hold on to your hats; it might be a wild ride.