WHAT IS LOVE? WHO IS THE ONE-SOULMATE. FALLING IN LOVE? Happy V-Day!

HAPPY 7th ANNIVERSARY TO LILY’S LIP SERVICE!

God V-Day is an emotionally loaded day, isn’t it??! It’s a LOVE-hate relationship for me. Love is in the air, yet pressure abounds. Self-imposed pressure, partner pressure, friend, and family pressure. What do we want to offer? What do we want to GIVE, do we even WANT to give something to anyone, what will we receive, if anything? Some hate it, some love it, some need it, others brush it off. And it allllll makes sense. I love it because I first taught myself how to squirt on V-Day (is this considered the ultimate self-care?). Then one year later on V-Day 2017 I started this Lily’s Lip Service blog.

Continue reading “WHAT IS LOVE? WHO IS THE ONE-SOULMATE. FALLING IN LOVE? Happy V-Day!”

HAPPY V[agina] DAY – Happy 5th Anniversary!

The other day I was scrolling Twitter and a post came thru of a woman’s left hand showing an engagement ring. Not that big of a deal, right? Wrong. This woman stated she was 73 years old and that at her age she didn’t expect to find love again, but she did. A couple things made this post remarkable. One, I read thru some comments and the woman further clarified she had “booted” her husband out after discovering he had another woman on the side (she was not a widower as some were assuming) and further that she didn’t look back; and two, the post had ONE MILLION fucking likes. This was not a famous person posting. I looked at the woman’s profile – mostly she posted random, boring things and she rarely received more than 50 or so likes. THIS post, however, garnered ONE MILLION likes and thousands of comments.

To what do we owe this phenomenon? We owe it to the fact that soooooo many people, women in particular, were THRILLED at the thought they still had a chance at “love”. And all ages – not just older women – but all ages were commenting that this gave them HOPE.

UGH lol

ROMANCE FASCINATION

What is our fucking fascination with being partnered???? The Tinder Swindler (Morris, F. (Director) 2022 on Netflix, has also came to my attention. I have not yet watched it but certainly get the gist from the comments I read. The summary being: desperation in the name of finding THE ONE in order to be partnered. It is so deeply ingrained in the fibers of our being that we continually ignore any and all reason to the point of putting ourselves in DANGER. This is not just a movie for me. This is MY life experience. This is my close friends’ life experience. As I question partnership I recognize it is sounding judgmental. It is judgmental. I have no qualms with judgment, honestly. I’m judging myself. I’m asking for my SELF. How do I move beyond the NEEDY partnership feeling?

I don’t have the answers btw. I haven’t been partnered in many years. I suppose that’s MY personal answer. I’ve done all the things we women do. I’ve made the lists of desired qualities, hoped, dreamed, pined, lusted, longed-for, visualized. I’ve partnered with [unhealthy] men. I’ve tried to be the easy-going lover. Now I’m doing the single thing. I’ve had lovers, one-night stands, I’ve focused on friendships. I’ve been on Tinder, Match. I have escaped …. what is it now – Hinge? Shouldn’t it be called HITCH tho??? Lol I just Googled it and says it is for “educated singles only” 45+. Hmmmmm interesting. I suppose that’s a good place to start. I’m not a college graduate tho so would I be barred from Hinge? So many questions and really no answers. EXCEPT to say I do love being single. I feel fulfilled. All too often that is then turned into the very thing I say I’m ok not having – NOW that man will show up (because I love myself enough and am content ). AS IF. I have males swirling my orbit. Most of them drive me nuts.  I often wonder if I’m just beyond the partnership frenzy. I have very little patience, no time to date, zero energy to follow through with getting to know someone. I write a sex blog that terrifies men, in general, and I can’t fault them for it. But when they attempt to discuss the topics of the blog with me – I simply get irritated because I have no desire to train. Not when I have a beautiful glass dildo waiting for me in my dresser drawer. Today I texted my closest friends “Happy Galentine’s Day” and that’s that. Except for later when I take the time to have my celebratory, Anniversary SQUIRT.

DEEPER DEPTHS

Admittedly, I have been in a deep DEEP funk. You know how much I looooove saying deeeeeep. It’s not fun when I’m referring to a funk tho.

I haven’t posted for you since last March. I’ve thought about it prob a million times or more. I’ve had a post near-ready since March. But I dove headfirst into a struggle I haven’t ever really had to address before: debilitating physical pain and to top that off-depression. Which triggered which is anyone’s guess.

The good news was and is I’m actually very healthy and my pain is nearly at a zero now. The other side of this good news (I won’t call it bad news) is that the pain was being directly caused by nothing other than an extreme amount of stress. Stress that caught up with me and demanded I pay attention to it. And I have! Hence now being nearly pain free.

I’ve been purposefully delving into some DeeeeeP personal issues as well. Facing my identity. The identity I created around dying my hair red for many, many years. When I was sick earlier in the year, working full time (haven’t had to do thar for years), and struggling to just get thru a day I stopped dying my hair. It was terrifying but also began to feel liberating. I have so much PLATINUM in my hair that it had become necessary to dye the roots every 3 weeks, 4 absolute max. After years of this it had really become tedious. That being said-I loved the red. And still do. I had already had a convo with my hairdresser a couple years prior about what it would take to strip the red out. I began to mentally prepare to begin that process. By the time I got around to booking an appointment my hair gal was booked out until August. Sooooooo I began the wait and continued to grow the platinum roots.

August rolled around and I had definitely started toying with the idea of chopping all the red off instead of going thru the chore of toxic treatments to strip it out. At that point my roots had grown out for 5 or 6 months. It was going to be an extremely drastic change-a near buzz cut; not only away from the red but from quite long to…. pixie.

I entered the salon and sat in the chair-I threw out the IDEA of just chopping off the red – and asked if the roots were long enough. Mind you-my hairdresser extraordinaire has since stopped dying hair so she JUMPED at the opportunity to NOT have to bleach and process my hair. She immediately pulled out of the cupboard a book of super short haircuts, I felt inspired and said YES let’s do this. She braided the hair to send to a company that accepts hair treated with color, handed ME the scissors, and videoed me snipping the first braid. It was as I said above – liberating and terrifying at the same time. No turning back now altho that did not cross my mind.

I shed a tear as I instantly felt a huge shift in my identity.

It took me weeks before I could REALLY look at myself in the mirror. By the time I reached my next appointment I had researched more specific styles and began to curate a style that I am just now finally loving. The identity piece is still here tho. A part of me that I had curated for so long. My feelings of sexuality or…. how sexy I felt… and how attractive I felt… were very much tied into that dyed red hair.

I was having lunch with a friend and the subject turned to this very topic and I began to share how women have confided in me (I’m talking about grocery store clerks who I know simply thru shopping for groceries) that THEY wish they could do what I’ve done but just can’t bring themselves to do it. I can so wholeheartedly get that. None of us are ready until we’re ready AND even then-its weeks and months of adjustment.

We all know society puts this pressure on us. And we’ve bought into it. Don’t get me wrong-I support women doing whatever the fuck they want. Want bigger boobs? Do it. Want a tummy tuck? Do it. Want botox? Fucking do it. I will eventually. Haven’t yet, haven’t felt the need. Not embarrassed to do it that’s for sure. So why is the opposite of that soooo fucking hard? To go natural with my hair color. Because society and marketing have told me my whole life that gray-haired women aren’t attractive. Men are celebrated for their salt-n-pepper hair. When have you ever heard the same for women? [Maybe a little bit lately with Covid and no one could get a haircut/color haha]. But really. This isn’t even arguable.

My friend shared she had decided she wasn’t going to highlight her hair anymore. She just had her life up-ended and for 4 months watched her daughter struggle with cancer. Life can put things in perspective at times in the bluntest ways. As we were leaving the restaurant, we ended up in the bathroom together. Women often do this, right?!?! Go to the bathroom together. I just wanted to wash my hands. I lamented a little bit about my identity struggle and the entanglement I felt it had with feeling sexy.  I shared, “I feel like I look like an old lady from the back. Like-if some guy is fucking me from behind is he gonna feel like he’s fucking an old lady?” Now at this juncture-I gotta say I have surrounded myself with magical, marvelous, successful, empowering women. And without skipping a beat my friend said, “Lily, no guy is gonna be looking at your HAIR if he’s doing you from behind.” Ok ok point taken.

Ironically, I had a hair appointment scheduled for an hour later. I shared this story with my hairdresser extraordinaire and SHE also knowing me very well both concurred with the part about where the guy will or won’t be looking when doing me doggy-style AND she took matters into her own hands-or scissors rather-and gave me a more interesting back cut. Currently the sides and back are shaved and the top is growing long. Think PINK. The singer not the color.

It’s weird to think about how my exes view me. I’m friends with most of them so I have gotten some feedback. I wonder if they are still attracted to me OR would they have EVER been attracted to me if it hadn’t been for the red hair? For some reason this is my current mind-fuck and I’d like to not give two fucks at all! But these are the sort of first world problems I seem to be able to justify wasting my time and energy with thinking about.

HOWEVER, I love this hair more each day. It has a mind of its own haha. It does its own thing and I most often allow it. I use product to add body. When I see photos of me with the red hair the pang of regret is subtle…. actually, it’s more like… that IS beautiful. But I’m definitely keeping up with this platinum look now. It helps I have gotten a TON of positive feedback. Strangers tell me all the time how much they love my hair. A handsome man in the post office stumbled trying to hurry and open the door for me only to mumble “I LOVE your hair.” Young people-more than a handful-have told me they can’t believe it is my “natural” color. They assume I have dyed it platinum. That’s fairly popular right now. Most friends have been extremely supportive. I feel fortunate to receive all this positive affirmation. It’s been amazing.

That’s simply the backstory to what I also said earlier about delving deeeeep into a funk. In processing my way out of that-and I still have a long way to go-I found I needed to admit something to myself. If I ever decide to venture into another partnership-I know I want it to be with someone who I am already starting out to be more of my authentic self. Outwardly that is. I never really could envision a hair transition while in a relationship. That felt like too great a leap. I’d rather attract a man who finds this new do of mine incredibly sexy from the start… both front and BACK … alike.

DATING DOLDRUMS

It’s been quite a YEAR, huh?? Here I am – I haven’t posted in sooooo long. I’ve written, I have lots of material. But until today – I have not finalized a single post. As stated already I’ve been buried in the emotional turmoil and struggles of LIFE. And honestly it has fucking sucked ass (that sounds way more fun with some hot guy). I’m trying to figure out what the hell dating is supposed to look like in my 50s because so far it’s been real….. interesting for lack of a kinder word. And interesting because we are also STILL, 2 years later, grappling with the Covid-19 pandemic issues.

For me it seems I am either approached by younger men (no complaints of course lol) or older men. I’m sorta wondering where the men are MY AGE?!?! Are they dating younger or older themselves? This in addition to the fact MANY are married or partnered and raising kiddos. I’m not opposed to dating younger or older BUT my experience consistently is all they want is SEX. Quickly. Their interest does not lie in developing a relationship over TIME, something like a long-term or partnership commitment. And while I don’t judge them for that as I certainly have had my share of years of chasing dick …. I guess I’m just interested in leveling up to something more. In the end-sex is fucking awesome, yes. But I’ve been burned by the just-sex relationship in a way I’m not even ready to describe. I can barely even admit it to myself.

There are a handful of reasons WHY I am interested in something more meaningful. One thing I haven’t yet shared here is I became a MOM in 2019. Quite unexpectedly. Nope-didn’t have a surprise pregnancy. A child came to live with me at 6 years old when my sister died. I have since adopted said child. Life game-changer. Now I’m this single parent navigating the world and if you think I have hardly a moment to take a breath and do something for mySELF-well, let’s just say 2 years later I’m barely starting to get my footing. I have been in mourning. For two and a half years. Mourning my sister, mourning with my little one, mourning for my little one, and mourning mySELF. The self I had created, the self I was living, the self I was comfortable with, the self I was happy and content with. ALL of that turned upside down.

I’m constantly amazed by women who actually date. Women who are moms I mean. Most are co-parenting tho. I am not co-parenting and don’t have the luxury of grandmas or sisters/aunties around either so IF I find a sitter they have to be pretty special first of all and THEN I have to be able and willing to pay them just so I can go out without WORRY for a few hours. Being willing to pay a sitter is actually the biggest hurdle because honestly if I’m paying a sitter I want a guarantee of a good time and that really only happens with a girlfriend, not a man who is a stranger, in general entitled, clueless, and generally exhausting just simply for the fact it’s exhausting getting to know someone on a level deeper. (I just said DEEP). I coined a phrase after a recent date: “I spent $90 on a sitter to chat with a stranger about my miserable life”. While essentially, it’s a joke-it is also the truth. A hard but laughable truth.

If I want a quick fix – I will get one. That isn’t difficult. Sex is easy. I could hop on Tinder and have someone at my house pretty quickly. Right?!?! No one’s arguing that. But I wasn’t doing that before I became a parent so I’m certainly not gonna do it now. Even my married friends forget this. Everyone forgets it except us single moms parenting alone. My married friend: you need to have an afternoon fling. Me: with who?? I’m not inviting a stranger to my home. Married friend: oh ya, right. I’ve gone on dates with men who still don’t know where I live. This is purposeful and intended. It’s the obvious, safe choice.

I don’t understand why women are so cautious a man shared with me recently. Where do I even begin?!?! Like-do you NOT read the news? Have I not shared with you MY experience of having to call the police? We are fucking cautious because men are dangerous. The #metoo movement is real for a reason. The feeling of being overpowered is unpleasant. Knowing pretty much any man could overpower us is unnerving. And there’s violence. Plenty of it. THAT’S why we are cautious and probably still not even cautious enough (hence The Tinder Swindler). I tell my single friends-please don’t go to their houses. If you do-let me know. Just in case. Do men do this for each other? I think not. This is the clueless part. And I just cannot do clueless.

In the past few years – the teeeeeeeny tiny amount of dating I have done has been quite enlightening. I am looking for:

+commitment

+long-term

+shared goals/agenda

+monogamy

+intimacy

+the kind of sex you get when both people are willing to really open themselves to each other (which will of course also be FUN).

What I am not “looking” for:

-a quick fix (that’s super easy)

-a quick fuck (that’s super easy)

-simply FUN IN BED (I reserve that for the quick fixes)

Men seem to give up after the 2nd date. So, I have coined an open letter to men who are dating: [me and other women similarly situated I imagine]:

We are not equals. I can do life on my own. My first question to you is: what do you bring to MY table? You asked me out, you want something from me. I won’t entertain what that may be (sex of course) unless and until you prove to me-yes, I said it, PROVE-you are going to make it worth my while first to pay a fucking sitter to even get together with you. Because, sure, you may buy dinner, but I pay $90 to walk out my door and walk back in several hours later. Second, if you are entertaining thoughts of fucking me or getting your dick sucked (yes, I am good at it) WELLLLLLL you better reallllly fucking step up your game. It’s not enough to just be you. Sorry, not sorry. I’m already at dinner because I saw something in YOU that interested me. YOU stop there and your GAME will take you forward. When I say “GAME” what do I mean? For starters and since it is winter, I will flat-out say I judge a man’s character by whether or not he shovels snow. Are you at my house digging out my car and salting my sidewalks? Because let me make something clear here, what do I need from a man? Gifts, sitters and dinners, and snow shoveling. Ok??? If you ain’t bringing all that – then you may as well move along. Your dick is a given. We both know it’s all you think about. And if you’ve read my blog – you already know I’m thinking about it too. And my pussy, I’m thinking about my pussy getting worked. And whether or not you are gonna be GOOD ENOUGH for me to take off my pants and panties and spread my legs. It’s as simple as that.

 A few last words along these lines: we probably have a friend in common because I don’t really date without some sort of referral. I know what I have to offer. If you are a man reading this and thinking I’m a bitch – I won’t deny it, I can be. We probably aren’t for each other if you don’t get where I’m coming from and can’t tolerate what I’m puttin’ down. I have a resume’. Just like a work resume’ I have a relationship resume’. There’s things on it like: amazing human being, loving and caring, great friend. LOL maybe this is what we need in life – relationship resumes with references.

HAUNTED BY HISTORY

I spent TEN years not talking to someone. We needed separation. Honestly given our attraction it’s a miracle we didn’t DO IT. However, somehow, both being in relationships, we managed to at least remain physically separate. I don’t think either of us can claim we didn’t obscure or blur the line of staying emotionally true to our partners. So-I left a very aggressive and bitchy voicemail one day that said ALOT of mean things. But the end result was what was required: we HAD TO stop. Zero contact. He respected the hardline boundary. I respected him for that.

Over the years it was HARD to not reach out. This is where I struggle. I simply cannot stay mad enough or strong enough or whatever it is that it takes to remain at a zero contact level. It’s not in my nature and I am friends with my exes. Only one significant ex have I lost contact with. Otherwise, in communication with all of them. So-obvs this guy who I speak of is NOT an ex-he is someone who I apparently need to continue to keep a good physical distance from. Fortunately, we live thousands of miles from each other.

After ten years, he relayed a message to me thru a mutual friend. Just a hello. From that I texted him and then we talked on the phone. It was a cautious reengagement and it seemed to go good enough. Nice to chat, remained able to keep my cool. Fast forward another two years and….. well I aye aye aye, we talked on the phone and I’m feeling like not a day has gone by from 12, 13, 14 YEARS ago. I dropped right back in to feeling so incredibly lustful for him it essentially knocked me on my ass and left me wondering: what in the hell?!?! I want to fuck him. If I saw him right now I would be inclined to devour him. We may even spontaneously combust into a cloud of mist that drifts off into the bliss of never never land.

The FIRE inside of me is once again ignited. I didn’t expect it and I didn’t rebuff it either. It’s just “whatever” at this point. I will think what I think and do what I want to do. I will also remain thousands of miles away from this man. For both our safety. I ask myself-what is this?! I have even asked myself-what is WRONG with me? I continually find myself consumed heart and soul by men who do not want to be committed to me. They aren’t available. At all. Whether it’s a wife or a vice apparently I’m not relationship material. Simply a fascination of sorts. And I’m seemingly attracted to that. It can be fucking painful to be on this merry-go-round.

One particular man kept saying, “I’m sorry for destroying you.” I would think and say-you haven’t destroyed me. Like it seemed so egotistical that he thought he had that much power over me. But you know what?? Maybe he did. Because I went too far and perhaps there’s no coming back from that. I shared with a friend I didn’t know if I could ever fuck someone again. She said-you will. It’s true-you won’t ever get over him, but you will have sex again. I’m glad she feels so self-assured about that because I do not. Still.

And so I circle back around to – being single is great! I will crawl into my happy cave with all my comforts and there I shall remain until someone comes along and says – hey, can I help you with your cave? What can I do for you? LOL

A NEW FRIEND

I decided it was time for some new dick in the house. I was out with girlfriends, and they wanted to shop for sex toys. PUUUUUURRRRFECT. All I had to do was ignore the sleazy dudes staring at my tits. No, these aren’t for sale. [Well, I mean maybe for a certain price lol. JOKES don’t get bent out of shape over that statement.] I bought a glass dildo. Very pretty. Been wanting one for a while. At first I was pretty scared of it. It’s double-ended. No – not actually because I am planning to use it that way. Altho not opposed. I just felt like the curve and thought either end would make a good handle and I’m right. Here’s a photo:

As you can see it has bumps. For some reason that made it look intimidating. But holy shit – I am having AAHHHHmaaaaazing orgasms with this thing. You all know I have looooooooved my blue dong with the suction cups for years now. But this pretty glass dildo is like next level. I can simply rub this a little bit on my clit and labia and orgasm amazingly without even inserting it into my V. Highly recommend. I also like that it’s glass. The blue dong is rubber or latex or whatever that material is and it doesn’t smell great. Even after many uses and washes. The glass is quite lovely.

HAPPY 5th! Go have 5 orgasms!

Today being V-Day and all OF COURSE I am writing because it is our ANNIVERSARY. It’s my anniversary of squirting discovery (6 years now) and it is Lily’s Lip Service’s 5th anniversary. The glass dildo is the perfect thing to end on. I can squirt easily with this thing. I can come and squirt like crazy because those raised nodules come in handy. I am always going to remind you that when you think of squirting – you do NOT have to have vaginal penetration. In fact, that will often hinder the squirt. The plump folds around your vaginal opening are ALL connected to your G-spot and when it is stimulated and when you do kegel-like exercises while you are stimulating the plumpness of the outside of your vagina then you CAN squirt. Just make sure you have a towel down! It will help you feel more relaxed about soaking your bed. I have given detailed guidance on this several times. If you cannot find the reference in the history of the blog but want a refresher course – by all means absolutely reach out and ask me. I love nothing more than to empower women to SQUIRT. Or ejaculate. Your preference on words.

I LOOOOOOOVE you. Thank you for giving me a reason to write and post. It is always my goal to post more often, like I used to. As life settles – I believe it is possible. In the meantime, you DO you. Don’t ever stop DOing you.

XoXo xOxO XoXo xOxO XoXo

 

 

V-Day 2021/HAPPY 4th Anniversary to US!

Oooohhhhh V-Day. It’s always a love/hate relationship with this day. For some – you either love or hate it; for others – it’s a little of both. I’m a little of both. It’s fun to go ahead and really spread the L.O.V.E. on one day in particular. But I’ve seen many comments to the contrary that I resonate with as well. Today, as I scrolled through Facebook, various friends quoted, “don’t put so much expectation on your partner to perform on one given day; take a look at the entire year of action.”

Agreed.

Another stated, “It’s a weird commercialized holiday to me where going out for dinner is such a pain, service takes way too long. It’s like going to Universal or Disney on a high crowd day, just too many people to deal with.” Then she provided access to this article: “Valentine’s Day wasn’t always about love.”

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/holidays/reference/saint-st-valentines-day/?fbclid=IwAR2JTy3-WroxURp-0J5K_L4iqMqoUAFupyd7pBi9GvxVQoS2lPYO2GHILJk#close

I agree with that too.

I also celebrate V-Day slightly; and of course being this is our FOURTH YEAR ANNIVERSARY together at Lily’s Lip Service, woot woot, and my FIFTH YEAR ANNIVERSARY for teaching myself how to squirt – well, I kinda LOVE the day in a way. But, I mean, overall, it’s such a sham. It’s yet another marketing scam where we have been essentially brain-washed into believing this “holiday” is worth shit at all.

I had a whole ‘nother post written and when I took a look at it last night to post it – I was like, nah. It’s too …… it just wasn’t good enough. I haven’t ever had that experience in the four years I’ve been writing these blog posts. I believe it’s just simply that I, for one write much longer posts now, and two I was so prolific in the beginning! I would literally wake up at like 5am and THAT IS NOT SOMETHING I DO to write for you guys! I was so stoked to share so many wacky things! I still am stoked to share all the things but I’m pickier about how I present them now.

To write tonight, I decided to put on one of my all-time fav albums by my all-time fav singer, Sade. OOOhhh lala I love her. Particularly was interested in listening to “You’re Not the Man” tonight. These words, in her voice, have been haunting me for months:

You’re not the man

Who stepped inside my life

And haunted every, every day

That was someone who you left behind

A long time ago

You’re not the man

Who would bleed for me

Never shed a tear

You’re not the one

Said he’d always, always, always be near.”

Please really do listen to it; so haunting.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ru2gaH2shc0

I’m thankful for every moment he and I were actually together in each other’s presence. It was the in-between that got me all fucked up. The times we weren’t together when my mind, heart, and soul raced with longing and desire for more.

But then one of my fav people who I discovered on Facebook years ago, Jeff Brown, omg he writes this, and I get it! As painful as this is, I get it:

We have a natural tendency to assume that a remarkable chemistry between two souls is confirmation that they are meant to be together. In the heat of profound feelings, it seems counter-intuitive to imagine ourselves separate from our beloved. But chemistry and longevity are not necessarily bedfellows. Just because we feel earth-shatteringly alive with someone doesn’t mean they are supposed to be our life partner. They may have come for a very different reason-to awaken us, to expand us, to shatter us so wide open that we can never close again. Perhaps they were sent from afar to polish the rough diamond of our soul before vanishing into eternity. Better we surrender our expectations when the beloved comes. (S)he may just be dropping in for a visit. Is the kettle on?” Spiritual Graffiti by Jeff Brown.

You know – he treated me horribly and I allowed it. How do I reconcile this? For too long I wanted more but settled for less and less. I wanted the illusion, and I didn’t get the message above, I hadn’t discovered Jeff yet. I got thru the painful moments by slapping a bandaid on the wound and moving forward – thinking I was resolving the issue. WRONG. Now months later and I’m crying more now than I did back in the Spring when it blew up in my face. Now every single one of those bandaged wounds is festering-never healed, never resolved as I so bravely or brazenly proclaimed to myself. Now I am haunted. The painful memories popping into my mind all too often. When can I step off this merry-go-round of hell?

Funny thing is-I viewed it as being “open to options” and “easygoing”. Which I am both things. I don’t need anything really. But I wanted what WE had. Chemistry. I gave him a lot of latitude. In the end-it’s really biting me in the ass. I was too easy-going. How do these wounds heal? With time I suppose and hope. But I will be left with the scars. Forever altered, never coming back fully to my pre-HIM existence.

I just loved that dick. There was something about it. And his cum was so yum. I swear I was addicted to it like a crack whore.

I’m a dick whore.

A nymph.

Which phraseology do you prefer? They both get me to the same place: I loved to suck and fuck that particular cock.

THE LIST

When I was in my early 40s I wrote out what I wanted in a man. You know – we’ve all done it; “the list” of traits. Some swear by it. The ones who found a man who EXACTLY fits every single expectation jotted down. Did I get what I wanted when I wrote out my my list? Maybe. What I didn’t expect was the total lack of commitment on both our parts. Neither of us willing to go into the relationship fully. Him and well he had his reasons. Me and well I didn’t want to push too hard or make too many waves or he might disappear forever. He disappeared anyway. So-if there’s one thing to learn-it is to bring up and talk about the hard stuff when it arises. Not to stuff it down inside. Because it will and it has for me come welling up-all at once-choking me until I fall on my knees, melting in a pool of tears.

Will I pull myself back up? Yes. Will I get thru this? Yes. Will I be unscathed? No. Because I threw myself into a pit of lava. And I got burned.

Nothing between us was sacred EXCEPT those moments when we surrendered to each other and entered the portal to bliss. More on surrender in a bit.

BETTER ALWAYS CLARIFY WHAT “DATING” MEANS

I went thru a guy’s phone once. Someone I was naively “dating”. I should have known better. It is strange because to this day it is a mystery to me how I even ended up doing it in the first place. That may sound difficult to believe. I hadn’t been thinking about it or obsessing about whether he was seeing someone else or not. But one night after we’d had sex and passed out I woke up, leaned over him to turn off the light we’d left on, his phone caught my attention and seriously next thing I knew I was reading text exchanges between him and some chick and he was calling her babe. That’s what he called me. W.T.F.  jesus I can’t believe I continued with him after that. My standards were clearly set extremely and embarrassingly LOW. Of course he was PISSSSSED I had looked thru his phone. I hadn’t kept looking. All at once feeling like the betrayed AND the betrayer. I put the phone down, laid back down and thought for one second I might try to ignore what I just saw. YA RIGHT. Nope lights turned on and in a shrill voice no one wants to hear at any hour of the day, let alone at 2am, I said: are you seeing someone else?!?!?!?! Imagine getting woken up by that!!! Yikes

BUT I didn’t learn my lesson. Nope. Had to stoop lower and lower to remain within his circle until one day he realized I was a doormat and didn’t want me anymore. Because doormats aren’t sexy.

An Orgasm A Day Keeps the Blues Away

I have felt stripped and stomped on and beaten up then thrown into the trash by this hell of a year. THEN all of a sudden – it was 2021!!! I wanted to write for the end of the hellish year but the end snuck past me and now here we are at the middle of February already. I let 2020 slip away quietly. I kept feeling like I needed to do something monumental and post something monumental here. You know-to say fuck you 2020 go away and never come back. Instead, I got snuggled up on the couch at about 11pm, turned on Wonder Woman 1884. I looked at the clock one more time then forgot all about “midnight” until I looked at the clock at the end of the movie and it was 2am. It was a perfectly fitting way for 2020 to end. Buh bye ya bitch.

It would seem my only New Year’s Resolution and I use that term vaguely because I didn’t declare this my NY resolution but it’s the only thing I committed to for the new year and that was/is to have more orgasms!! So far, so good!! I’ve been enjoying short and long sessions of orgasming and squirting quite often. Jeez thank God because it seems as though I may have a nasty case of SAD because good Lordy I’ve been in a grumpy moody mood. It’s been a real BEOTCH-life has been that is.

BACK TO SURRENDER THO

Some of us get off on surrendering. I was fantasizing and getting quite turned on about him biting my lip hard enough to make it bleed a little bit and lick and suck the blood while he fucked me super deep (tee hee) and hard. I might even be crying or at least teary from the bite. That was last night. Just now when I was thinking about that fantasy I wondered to myself-what about this fantasy is really turning me on? And as I envisioned being intertwined with my lover in this very heated moment a feeling of surrender washed over me. Because to surrender and give in to one’s and also another’s passion is a portal to the ultimate BLISS of sexual satisfaction.

I surrendered to myself and indulged in an epically sweeeeet orgasm the other night. I had fallen asleep but woke back up feeling aroused. I started running my fingers through my pubic hairs and trust me – it is THICK down there – but it was making me feel tingly. I decided to wake up enough to get a little oil and start rubbing my labia. Mmmmm I was feeling my entire pussy and lips getting swollen. I was avoiding my clit and massaging all around it since WE ALL KNOW because we have read each of my blogs but particularly the ones giving step-by-step instructions on how to squirt that massaging all the tissue in and around the labia will produce the liquid that you can then squirt out if you so choose. Jeez!! Anywho – away from the lecture and back to my masturbation story – WE ALL KNOW we can heighten our orgasmic pleasure by ALOT if we are also squirting. Then doing those together – cum and squirt – that is next level also.

I was close to orgasm for quite some time. I decided I wanted to add another toy so I got a butt plug from my drawer and slowly introduced that. I like it when the metal is chilly. It’s lubed up of course. I pretty much always use coconut oil these days. Feels nourishing also. (insert laughing face emoji here).

In POPS the butt plug because it is shaped like an hour glass, right? And ya gotta get the bigger part IN to then have the tight little butthole land on a much skinnier part. I like anal so that’s not really necessary for me, to have the smaller part,  but it feels good and is also easier by myself if I also want to insert my blue dong which is what I also did the OTHER other night.

I sat on it – the blue dong. Squatted over my black metal chair and fucked the blue dong while tickling my ass with the plug. It takes some effort but DAMN it is worth it!

I soaked the metal chair with squirt too of course.

So, ya, there is THAT January/February sun-deficient mood boosting exercise!

Copy it! Be me! lol. An orgasm a day will keep the blues away.  Let’s make it our motto during these cold, dark months.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Happy V-Day to all ‘ya all no matter how you feel about the day.

p.s. I will continue the Feb 13th cucumbers and chocolates post next – I promise!

RANT.ENDS.HERE. (I hope).

My good friend, Ed Pasqualin, passed away recently. Thankfully, I spent time with him in February while on Maui. Ed was one of my biggest Lily’s Lip Service fans!! I still cannot believe he is gone. I dedicate this post to him.

I ran across a post on my LilysLipService IG page: “How do I forget someone who made me feel complete but broke me at the same time”. thinkologyofficial. And it summed up exactly what I’ve been battling this week. HOW do I forget that person?? Even when it is absolutely vital that I DO forget them?

Continue reading “RANT.ENDS.HERE. (I hope).”

the FINAL, absolute final, Dregs.

I’m kicking myself for not ending the lovership sooner. How often does it happen we get it exactly right though? So often we let it linger toooooo long, even when knowing it is best to END IT NOW. I know why I hung on for so long. Because it was easy, convenient, we were compatible, we had sexual chemistry, we got along well, we had FUN fucking in all sorts of places, AND because dating sucks-ass, so I hung on. In addition to all of that – I don’t really know if I WANT a “boyfriend” or a long-term partner; and as I’ve stated many many times, I’m certainly sick of the constant pressure to be partnered. Was it nice having the convenience of a sex partner? Absolutely. Am I curious about my future sexual relationships? Absolutely. But it doesn’t define me; it doesn’t rule my decisions and I’m certainly NOT rushing into anything…. or allowing anyone IN me 😉

Continue reading “the FINAL, absolute final, Dregs.”

TRUTHFUL CONFESSION.

I have had a crazy busy month and I’m so happy to get back to the fun of writing about S.E.X.! I’m gonna go ahead, jump right in, stir the pot, and get emotions on edge with one word: WHORE. I’m excited to BANG out this post for you. I’ve been marinating in this concept for …well, for my entire life essentially. Because I’m a woman. Particularly, I’m a sexual woman. So, therefore, there’s no escaping it. I have NOT accepted money for sex. Just to get that cleared up. When I say, “I’m a whore” I’m referencing a generally accepted concept that someone who is promiscuous is essentially referred to as a whore. Yes, according to “society” – I’m a whore.

Continue reading “TRUTHFUL CONFESSION.”