This is an adult-themed blog in which sex, love, relationships, and violence are discussed. It should be considered 18+.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Am currently feeling rather irked at The Reader and The Buff. Despite years of on-off (just in a "haven't had time to talk" way, not in an "I hate you and never want to talk to you again" way) friendship, neither ever visits or calls me when they're in town. Well, unless they're bored and have nothing else to do.

Remember what I said a few posts back about lack of female friends? Yeah, that's why I treasure these two. But apparently it doesn't go both ways.

Ok, pout over. Sorry about that.

Monday, March 29, 2010


Well, I've done a lot of writing in the last few days, but those posts are set to auto-post at a future date, just so things aren't too close for comfort.

Anyway, I was writing and realized that other than saying I didn't have anywhere to look myself up, I really didn't introduce myself.

Hi, I'm Quinn. (At least that's what you'll know me as)

I'm a 20-something woman married to an older man. I'm BFB (bi for boobs), into a lot of kinky stuff, and I don't like to talk before, after, or during sex. I'm in college (I shan't say what year or degree) working, and very lazy about the house. I write, read, play several musical instruments, sing in the shower, draw, and enjoy collecting wigs. Just for fun.

Oh, and I'm a little OCD. Like...well, I shan't get specific because my OCDs are pretty unique in combination, I think.

And here's a quick key to some of the characters you'll probably be hearing about:
  • Husband self explanatory
  • B my sister
  • Momster my mother
  • The Ear his mom
  • Dad mine
  • Lay-z-boy his dad
  • OC althought explained in an earlier post, I'll go ahead and say he's an old crush I'm not totally over
  • The Cow OC's girlfriend
  • Reader close friend, probably best friend.
  • Gma my grandmother
  • And various other less regularly scheduled characters.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Weird nightmares

Last night I had a whole series of nightmares about me dying. Something different every time.

For some reason it kind of turned me on.

Thursday, March 25, 2010


I recently reviewed a copy of the Kama Sutra rather harshly for its lack of positions and emphasis on "touching"

But I got to thinking; maybe that's what we should all be trying to get back to. Remember when you liked someone and those first few times you touched them, anywhere, it was terribly exciting? You felt a little thrill whenever you skin touched theirs, however briefly and just catching a wiff of the way they smell would make your heart flutter?

That's what I'd like to get back to, anyway.

"What are you thinking about?"

Do not utter the above words unless you really want to know. This is not something to casually say during sex; more along the lines of something you say whilst trying to figure out why your partner is so mad at you.

Another reason not to say it during sex? It's really distracting. Here I am, enjoying a nice long fantasty about whatever floats my boat that day (in this particular instance, secretary skirts and kinky desk ties) when all of a sudden, I'm interrupted by "Whatchoo thinkin' about?" It's the mental equivilent of a commercial break for gum right in the middle of a porno. Not hot. Very aggravating.

"I love you" is ok. So is "Oh Baby" and varients there of. I've learned over the years to tune that out to keep on with what I'm doing. "Whatchoo thinkin' bout?" requires an answer, thus I have to dredge myself up to satisfy your needs (and wasn't I already doing that?) If you want loving banter, please approach me for it outside the bedroom where I'll be happy to oblige. When I'm in the mood, I don't want to talk, I want to fuck. Ok?
Gents, let me share a secret with you: sometimes when your girlfriend/wife seems to be agreeing with all the things you fantasize about her fantasizing about, she's just trying to get you to come so you will finish up and let her go to sleep.

How to tell?

If your significant other is really interested, the least you'll get is an "mmmm....", but more likely you'll get an elaboration on the story. "Does it turn you on to think about sucking on another woman's tits?" "Oh yeah...they're so smooth and soft and just...yum!"

If you keep getting a bunch of "mhm", "yeah", "maybe" and other such monotone (or fakely cheery) answers, she just wants you to get it over with.

I'll tell you another secret...

Not all women like to talk during sex! (see next post)
There was a point in my life where I wouldn't even need this kind of thing to talk about what was going on- I'd just talk about it with one of my close female friends. However, I've found as time went by that one of two things happened:

I dropped them because, despite my physical sex, my mental sex (or lack thereof, however it suits you to see it) does not care for the constant jostling and mind games of female friendships. If I tell you not to tell anybody, I mean it (not "only your nearest and dearest", or "only the entire Sociology class") and if I tell you I won't tell anybody, I mean it. I won't use information as a lever to get what I want, I won't be snide for no reason, and I will be honest. (see number Two)

They dropped me because I am, as mentioned above, honest. I will tell them when their boyfriends/girlfriends suck and why. I will tell them when they're being jerks, what I feel will help them, and I will try to prevent them from doing anything exceptionally stupid if possible.

Two A:
I am always right when I say that someone is going to break up with them. Maybe it's the masculine side of my brain tuning into the male signals, I don't know for sure, but if I say Boy A is going to dump your ass in a week, he does. This is apparently bad for relationship morale and I am ever afterwards blamed for the dumping, even though all I did was predict it.

Two B:
If you want to ruin a budding friendship, there doesn't seem to be a better way to do it than to say "You're really being an ass right now." Totally disregard how true the statement might be, that's just how it works.

Two C:
Try to help people. This is no win:
  • If you help them and it works, they wonder what would have happened if they did it their way (I.e. Would it have turned out even better?)
  • If you offer them help and they don't take it but it works out, you are an idiot
  • If you offer them help and they don't take it but it doesn't work out, they think you think they're an idiot. Cue resentment
  • If you help them and it doesn't work, then it is your fault

Two D:

Try to keep them from doing stupid things. First off, no one likes being called stupid. Secondly, they'll often do it just to spite you and then end up blaming you for the bad results (Let's cue the ranting of H, who had a baby with a guy who was getting ready to break up with her because I told her it was a bad idea: "You practically called me an idiot! I know what's best for me!" He's left her, she hates children, and all concerned are now stuck with the results)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

You know those moments with your significant other where you just know they love you and that you love them?

I'm down with a cold today (thanks to B, my sister) and Husband comes in with a steaming mug of tea and kisses me on the forehead and tells me it's chamomile and lavender. He even checked to make sure it was uncaffienated.

Guys: it really is the simple stuff that counts.

Monday, March 22, 2010


Serious sour grapes moment a minute ago:

Looking at a picture of OC and The Cow (his girl) and I found myself thinking the following
  • obviously he has no taste in women because she is SO unnattractive
  • His ears are big
  • he squints when he smiles
  • he looks like a surfer dork
  • he is a dork
  • he never writes/calls anyway
Had a scare last night: we're laying in bed and Husband says "Do you love me?" in that tone of voice that suggests that something, somewhere, has given him the idea you don't.

Panic! Has he found this blog? Has he suddenly gained the ability to read minds? Did he read my stories and realize some paralells?

"Of course I do..."

"So it didn't weird you out that it turned me on to see you and your sister hugging each other?" Oh sweet gods! Is that what this is about? What a joke!

"Of course not."

And, relieved, the sweet man took himself in hand (quite literally).

Sunday, March 21, 2010

How does it go again..?

I only ever seem to read, see, or hear two reactions from married women: blissfully happy (even if stressed) or "desperate".

I don't think I really fit either of these two categories (and I hope I don't give anyone the impression that I do) I love Husband, he's a great guy. Our life is pretty comfortable, even if it isn't extravagant. We don't have any children to stress us or our budget, so that isn't an issue.

So what is the lingering dissatisfaction in my married life? Good question. I have a few theories:

  1. Consumer Overload: basically I'm from a generation offered so many choices about so many things that we're always wondering if something else might be just a bit better.
  2. Poor relationship role models: Yes, I know it's completely trite to blame this sort of thing on your parents, but I think some part of my mind questions any "loving" relationship as the flipside to mental/emotional abuse.
  3. Innately semi-masculine mind: desire for newer, better, sexier, creature for jolly fun. Disinclination to commit to any one person, no matter how wonderful.
  4. Husband is too much like my father: He's a nerd, he fiddles with things that aren't broken...
  5. Husband is not enough like my father: Sometimes he's a little too like my mother: passive aggressive, whiny, needy, OCD.
  6. Simply not a nice person: 'nough said.

So what's the most likely, or is it something totally different? No clue.

Rather left everything hanging last night...See, it's pretty scary when you're as young as I am and can't remember things as you "should". Perhaps some of those people commenting on how cellphones destroy the ability to remember things are correct, at least in part. (Though phonenumbers aren't one of the things I odd)


Husband and I had a talk last night about fantasies and whether or not you should share all of your fantasies with your spouse. He, firmly for. Me, firmly against.

His reasoning (spoken, at least)
  • you love each other, you should know how to make each other as happy as possible
  • honesty is important
  • if you love each other enough, nothing will be appalling.

My reasoning (spoken and unspoken)

  • No matter how much you love each other, some things are just a little too weird
  • Honesty is overrated as long as it doesn't relate to disease or fidelity
  • Sometimes I like to think about sex with other men, do you really want to hear about that?
  • Quite often I think of one particular man you hate, O(ld)C(crush), and I figure you'd probably disown me if you knew
  • Despite your claim to wanting to make your partner happy, a fair number of fantasies I have told you are still sitting ignored on your mental shelf. (At least I can safely say I've tried just about everything you've brought up and those I haven't, I've explained why)

So which of us is right? Personally, I feel it probably depends on the relationship. If a couple is composed of more stable components than myself, it might be well-possible, or even advisable, to share thoughts. Goodness, you'd like to fuck me from behind? How wild!

But, between myself and Husband, I think this would just be a bomb waiting to explode. Every time after that he'd be wondering why I thought of other men, why OC. And that can't really be good for anyone's mental health.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

A good start

I was reading another blog today when it suddenly occurred to me: I have no real record of my life. I used to keep journals, until I found out my mother was reading them. I tried Livejournal briefly (Too many people whining about their really not so bad lives), but after that I just gave up. How to write what you really think without running the risk of people figuring out what you think of them (in a bad way)?

But it is settled! I "Quinn", am going to record, to the best of my ability, the truth of my day to day (or however often something significant happens)