Experiments in Kink

10:31am: Betrayal and Reikki
A few years ago, my lover wanted to perform Reikki on me. I admit I thought it was a New Age hoax...wave your arms over me and redustribute my energy to help heal me?  If my thoughts could be heard, the sound would have been a scoff.

So I allowed it, closed my eyes, and was wholly unprepared for the visceral reaction my body had to being so blatantly invaded. That was the closest to panic I have felt in by life.

Recently I thought it might be a good idea to try Reikki again. BDSM was immensely helpful in my healing process, and perhaps if I could be comfortable with Reikki, it would help me heal even more.

Alas, a few weeks ago a fresh betrayal assaulted me, and I am reconsidering the Reikki. I don't think I could handle it right now.

12:37am: Last updated: 96 weeks ago....
.....

And I find myself here, somewhat unexpectedly.

Part of what made BDSM so healing for me was the need to let go.  I thought that it was all due to handing over control -- not losing it, as <lj user="msir"> pointed out, just giving it away.

Tonight I realized that part of the reason handing over control is so healing is because taking control is a defense mechanism.

A really, really well-tuned and well-honed defense mechanism.  There's very little I cannot do if I really want to do it.  I find ways to move mountains.

While this is excellent most of the time, I learned to move mountains because it's what I had to do when an avalanche hit.  Moving mountains is empowering, but it's also very tiring.  And it is very wearying to always have to work so hard.

And I find myself here, somewhat unexpectedly.

For the past three weeks I've been dealing with an extremely difficult crisis.  Coincidentally, the best way to pick up the pieces of this crisis was to throw myself into moving some mountains.  Which I have been doing.

But while moving mountains I forgot to realize that this crisis is another betrayal.  I have to deal with the emotional fallout.  I read some of the entries from 100 weeks ago and more in this journal, and I realized how much I longed to feel the singletail on my back.  Perhaps, how much I need to feel the warmth, the safety that I had (and still have) with <lj user="msir">.  Right now I'm still in shock and only started to feel violated by this recent betrayal.  I'm still moving some mountains; for once it's actually the appropriate response.

I was having a conversation with a friend tonight about a place he goes to where he feels safe enough to be his true self.  His place is not my place; it is not a safe place for me.  Very few places are, indeed, safe for me.  Safety for me is a mental state where I cannot distract myself by moving mountains...or molehills.  I move only what I'm told to move.  I do not feel anxious about what needs to be moved next.

I need that again.

And I find myself here, somewhat unexpectedly.

9:55pm: Old mail that readers may enjoy

12:17am: "Do you miss things?"
Not too long ago, I was asked, "Do you miss things?"

The funny thing about a theraputic relationship is that as I found myself in a better mental state, I pulled away from the relationship. From 17 Feb until 23 April, at least as this journal shows, I was in a difficult state of mind. msir helped me through those times. I could not be the person I am today if our relationship had been different. The fact that I am in good mental health can be directly attributed to him, and I am indebted to him.

I miss our relationship like I miss being a child. Things are not the same, and can never be. I remember the good things fondly. I miss being together, but I don't miss needing to be together.

Bad analogy time -- if you're in an activity or a class with a person, you are thrust together more because of the commonality. You study, or play together, for the duration. After that, you see less of each other. That's what this is.

I want to rebuild our relationship on different terms. msir can still be protective of me. He can still be nurturing. We have much in common, especially mentally. When your study buddy becomes your Scrabble partner, you keep reaffirming the bond you have, in different ways. I still want that bond; I still need that bond. But I don't want to, and don't have to, affirm that bond in the same way.

There is still much love and much Love in my heart for him. The circumstances are different, but emotion is still there.

2:51pm: BDSM as therapy?
So, BDSM. I've named this journal "Experiments in Kink." I'm thinking that the name is more appropriate than I could have guessed.

Where am I in my experiments?

How much of BDSM is, for me, experimenting in a safe medium? How much of it is playing with unsafe things in a safe space? I give control up knowing that I can take it back at any time; but taking it back ends the experiment.

BDSM, for me, is definitely acting. It's putting myself in a situation and working the scene out. It has been very important in the ability for me to place abusive experiences in my life -- see where they fit, see what's abuse and what isn't.

My needs and wants are changing. I don't think I *need* BDSM as a safe space anymore. I still want it, with varying levels of want based on my mood, etc. Still, an interesting shift.

10:59pm: The rest of the weekend. . .
msir had prepared me for the weekend with a few orders -- not to cum except when he wanted me to, and a 'warning' that he'd be stuffing my face with his cock at every opportunity. I was up for the challenge. When he first walked in the door on Friday, he made me drop to my knees and suck his dick. . . yummmmmm.

So, after the punishment that Friday, msir and I did a scene. He cuffed me to the freestanding rack. He proceeded to flog me, and then used the singletail on me.

As usual, the 'tail got me flying high. I'd never felt high like that standing up. . .unlike last year, I didn't feel the urge to faint. Towards the end I started to feel a little queasy, but that was most likely because I was standing and flying. . .and it wasn't very queasy, just starting to feel a bit green, and a short while later, we stopped.

It was an interesting scene from my perspective because, other than a few water breaks, there wasn't much dialogue happening. When we're alone there is some. . . or maybe it's just that I was closing my eyes, and he was behind me, and our eyes didn't talk to each other. . . hard to say. But I definitely missed that connection -- though we definitely connected through the whipping.

Saturday morning was mundane, and we connected a bit emotionally. Then he staked me to the ground, spreadeagled, and whipped and flogged me. He also used the sharp, pointy end of the knife along my body. . .I do so love the scratching sensation. That, and being naked and tied up outdoors. He also used an extremely painful little . . . cane, I guess? It was a thin strip of metal. . . and boy was it painful.

He made me suck him again, and made me use a vibrator, but did not allow me to orgasm at first. Eventually, he let me cum, and hard, and it was wonderful. . . I was flying high again, just from the orgasm, and the waves of pleasure I was finally allowed to have, after following the order to masturbate every night before I went to bed and every morning after I woke up, but not being allowed to orgasm.

I spent most of the weekend wet.

Later that evening, after a few more random cock-sucking of msir, we did a quick scene where he bound my arms, and caned me. I'm definitely growing attached to canes. . . he left a vertical line down each upper thigh and several horizontal ones crossing them perpendicularly on each upper thigh.

Sunday morning, as instructed, as soon as I woke up I gave msir a blowjob to completion. I loved tasting his cock and his cum, after being teased all weekend and denied the taste of his cum. . . but it certainly was well worth it. We cuddled a bit more for a while.

The scenes did not really have me feeling more connected to msir, but the cosominating and cuddling definitely did.

It was a great weekend.

12:04pm: The punishment
So, I'm supposed to keep this journal fairly up-to-date; the agreed upon arbitrary deadline was 10 days. That means that 10 days after a scene, or an orgasm, I will update the journal.

This is mostly to give me a deadline, so I don't forget to do it.

And, as was bound to happen, I forgot. The circumstances around the date itself are embarassing; I'd mentioned we hadn't hot tubbed in a while, and the very next day (or that same day) msir invited me over. And I've forgotten many details, although I'll try to recreate them here; it was 2 weeks ago tonight, Tuesday.

The hot water is always very sensual to me. Being in loving, caring arms in the water only magnifies that. I felt very close to msir, as I often do when we're silent together, the sounds of the night drawing a circle of peace around us. It had been a hectic summer, and I never get as many quiet moments alone together as I'd like. I was savoring languid kisses and steamy desire.

Then the kissing got more urgent; I became aroused. I stroked his back, his head, his shoulders, while sitting on his lap, facing him. He smiled at me, his eyes declaring love over and over again, while stroking my back, pinching my nipples, and playing with my clit.

Urgent turned more frantic. He plunged his fingers into me, and I cried out softly. He always feels so good inside me, no matter what part of him is inside me. He fingered me, hot and wet as I was, and made me cum in a wave of pleasure. I held onto him, my head on his shoulder, as my body rocked.

There wasn't too much after-cuddling, because the night was warm, and we began to feel overheated. But there was enough cuddling (as much as there can ever be enough).

------------------------------

The punishment for forgetting was 10 hard smacks as I lay across msir's lap. He would do 5, and then check in and do another 5. I was nervous, not knowing how I'd take this punishment. It hurt, but the first 5 were over quickly, and I knew I could (and ought to) take another 5, as much as it was tempting to plead weakness.

It's interesting, my reaction to physical punishment. I would think it would bring up demons from my past. But it was more like a medical procedure -- there's something painful you have to do, but it's for the better. You take a deep breath, live with it, and it's over before you know it.

There's still love there. I never doubt for a second that there's love there. The demons I have relate to physical punishment as expression of disgust of me, hate for me, disappointment in me. That element is not present in msir's punishments (and I do not want it to be there).

I'm still not any wiser as to why people enjoy BDSM, why people want to do most of the things they do; most of the things I've done. I still can't explain it. It's certainly helped me clarify things about myself; having a safe space to do that is invaluable.

9:36am: Monday and Tuesday night. . .
After hanging up the phone, I reached for my vibrator. It didn't take long to cum each night, being completely wet from the phone conversation.

mmmmmmmmmmmm

7:16am: Thursday night
Listening to the sound of your voice
I came three times. . . .

Last night
After hanging up with you
Masturbating to orgasm once.

mmmmmmmm.

7:55pm: Thinking of you
Thursday night
As I came
I called your name.

It escaped my lips
I did not intend it to;
Though I was thinking of you.

Friday night, again
I called your name
As, again, I came.

I relished imagining
You on top, thrusting into me.
So was my ecstasy.

Saturday night, I read bad porn
Not thinking of your body.
Orgasming weakly, very shoddy.

And then I thought of you
Calling your name as the wave
Hit me. You, dear, I crave.

9:42pm: Orgasms, socks, and needles, oh my!
The sex was connecting and powerful. Towards the end, I could only say, "oh" -- no other words would form. All told, I orgasmed 5 times; in addition, the night before the date, I'd masturbated and had 2 orgasms.

The body sock (you called it a body bag, but that's way too gruesome for me) was interesting. Once I was zippered into it, a feeling of great security and protection washed over me. I'm not quite sure how or why, but some of the reason was that I was in my own little world, and some was that having something semi taut around me felt like I was being held.

The flogging, singletail and cane were easier to take; I felt like I could be struck harder, and not just because there was fabric in the way. It felt much safer to play in the body sock.

My reactions were different -- very disjointed, since I felt very far away. So I'm not sure that the sock is good for feedback. It was a quiet night all in all, and I hope I conveyed how I was feeling well enough. The sheer comfort and protection the sock afforded was unexpected. I don't often feel as safe as I did in the body sock.

When it came to the needles. . . we had discussed the possibility before. When faced with it, I suddenly had many questions: What, exactly, happened? Were they put in vertically? How do you know you're not going to hit an artery or vein? What are the practical risks? How much experience have you had? Was I a complete nut for allowing someone who wasn't certified stick needles into me?

The answers to these questions were either obvious, or just words. For instance, I had to trust that you had "enough" experience, whatever that meant. Obviously you would avoid major arteries and veins; as for the risks, we'd talked about those, and barring anything unexpected, I know enough biology to know that the risk is bleeding, bruising, etc. I thought about it, and I was completely prepared to seek medical attention should that be necessary. I always do think the worst; a little ripped skin is merely a flesh wound, nothing more. Infection, I realized, was probably the most serious consequence. And I knew I could always safeword. As well, I don't automatically trust all doctors, knowing that not all of them graduated at the top of their class. . .I trust you in many ways more than I would a doctor I didn't know (for instance, one treating me in a hospital).

So I handed over trust and control -- I really did like your statement, "You haven't lost control, you've just given it to me." There's a certain part of BDSM that helps heal past abuses; that sentiment is likely a part of that.

As usual, you did a good job of preparing me, mentally and physically. That's another reason I saved my questions -- I know you do a good prep job, as well as knowing I could pause to ask questions or stop if I needed to.

Rubbing alcohol, iodine -- very much like giving blood. The needle stick, of course, was different -- a needle going into me horizontally instead of vertically. Having had a whole bunch of blood taken from me for medical reasons in the last 2 years definitely prepared me. Your instruction to take deep breaths helped.

I definitely felt pain and then a rush of endorphins. Unlike with medical procedures, though, the endorphins just stayed there. My body felt warmer and warmer with each needle.

I was pretty terrified when you mentioned piercing my nipple. I thought about it for a while, though, and realized (1) people pierce their nipples all the time; (2) if it got to be too much, we'd stop. We talked a bit about it, and really there are just some things you don't know what effect they'll have until you do it.

In the end, it turned out to be a good scene. My main question now is what do you get out of it? It's a very demanding task, you have to be completely present for it.

Sex with the needles in was fantastic. I felt an entire body warmth I hadn't felt since using the Sybian last year.

Needle play is not something I'd do often, given the risk of infection and who knows what, but it was definitely a positive sensation and experience, and one I'd repeat.

Even as I write this, a day later, the pinprick marks are fading, and the bruise is barely visible.

I didn't think about this until now, but not once last night did I feel the urge to call yellow (or red). That's. . . significant. Whether it's what we did, or that I'm letting go more. . .

I still wonder if I'm nuts for doing needle play. . .

7:02am: Wistfully Yours
Still is how I want you to be,
at that first thrust into me.

Still is my heart when I think of you
Your smile, your quirks, and and all that you do.

Still is my body after orgasm comes
While the vibrator next to me still hums.

Still, I long to feel all that is you
Holding me, loving me, and seeing me through.

3:41pm: Thinking of you
I engaged a singularity
During this dry spell
Thinking of you
Thought of you
All night
Drifted off
Thinking of you

9:41am: I haven't felt much like mastubating in a while. Last night I was wholly distracted while trying to fall asleep, so I used my old standby of masturbating to distract me.

I'm amazed at who enters my thoughts; this time I could not keep my mind off T., and envisioned coupling with him. Needless to say, it did not take very long for that image to result in an orgasm. I slept well last night.

12:44pm: The date itself. . .
. . .was lovely, and exactly what I needed. It had some quite romatic aspects which I've been sorely lacking in -- the strongest of which was holding hands, and swinging them a bit, on a warm summer evening as we walked. The moon was a gorgeous sliver, and it really did feel as though love was in the air, as the cliche goes.

Dinner had us coming home late, so we didn't do much physical BDSM. I adjusted to a few more guidelines on how to be a good slave. I think that transforming into a quiet, obediant and observant slave once in a while can be a good balancing point to my daily life.

Not that I was particularly quiet last night during dinner, indeed, I even thought throughout the evening that on a night serving msir it probably wouldn't be appropriate to speak up as often as I did. My collar was admired, though I felt awkward, feeling on one hand that he should be the beneficiary of the comments, and on the other hand knowing the collar was picked out and purchased by me before I knew msir. I need to let go.

There were many things last night that I would have asked before doing -- and some things I may not have done at all. Should I start asking permission when I have my collar on, even with company? As well, there are probably many things I should do without asking -- refilling a drink, for instance. . .everybody has their own "you may always do this, and you should always do this in that scenario". . . what are msir's?

Bringing out this side of me, in a controlled environment, is an extremely good thing.

Back at home, in private, we spent some time out on the back porch -- not very public, though I did need to keep my voice down. It was very romantic to be held outside during a warm summer night.

msir's expert hands led me to the railing and pressed me against his body. After a brief groping, he bent me over the railing, pulled up my miniskirt and found my center, wet since the sexual play in the car ride. It had been difficult the previous night to masturbate without orgasming, as he requested. With my senses heightened, I fought to keep the volume of my moans low.

After a few minutes, msir sat down and I began to suck his cock. I've written about how I enjoy sucking cock many times, but mostly I enjoy it when I'm relaxed, and sucking slowly. A few more minutes and we went inside, to the bedroom. Once inside, we kissed, and msir tossed me onto the bed, facedown.

Not knowing what was going to happen next made me very excited. I longed for him to plunge into me, but he knows the value of taking his time. Though I've had sex recently, I haven't had much foreplay. I'm usually quite eager to 'get on to things', and I end up rushing things. msir helps me savor the moment, extending time so that each act is a separate instance of time, not a blur barely remembered.

He played with me a bit, and then turned me over and covered his body with mine. He was naked and I was not, so I did not enjoy the sensation of flesh on flesh, but I did quite enjoy the sensation of his body on top of mine. We kissed and folHe did a wonderful job licking me, and I quickly became semi-lost in a transparent haze of lust.

On top of me again, we kissed for a bit, and then he did plunge into me. It felt truly amazing, reconnecting with the same intensity after all this time, especially since I've personally had some rough spots in the past few months. All that was erased; msir was there, loving me, giving to me, as I was loving him, and giving to him. All was perfect in that world.

I'd been instructed to masturbate the night before but not orgasm. It took me a while to cum, relearning msir's body. Though it had been only a few months since our last consumation, I have changed a lot, and so the way I relate to others has changed as well. When I did orgasm, it was long and drawn out; few and far between, but well worth it.

I was on my stomach now, the position where I feel the highest sensation. I came three times like that, moaning, practically screaming. Time seemed to stand still, or at least move more slowly. The world shrunk; there were no external worries, deadlines. I hadn't been in that space in too long.

Later I rode msir, and after my 6th orgasm of the night he said that was enough orgasms for me. He told me he'd enjoy me sucking him off to orgasm, but I hadn't wanted to break our physical bond, and he hadn't made any motions to.

We rocked, slowly, back and forth. After a short while of holding back, concentrating on breathing, and focusing, trying not to cum, I reached the breaking point. In the moment I felt somewhat embarassed that I'd let myself get to that point, but part of me wonders if he wanted that to happen -- to see how far I could go before begging him to let me stop.

Tasting his release in my mouth, feeling his body explode under me, was a joy as always. I wish we could have spent hours afterwards cuddling and holding each other, but by then it was late and I had to get home.

2:30pm: some BDSM thoughts
It's been a while since I last played; a few months, actually, though I haven't particularly felt a loss. I've still had the closeness and comfort I need (although very recently I've been trying to slow down more).

I had a Brazilian wax last week. The results are amazing. The process was painful. It was certainly bearable, and only lasted 20 minutes, and was worth it. I have another appointment to go back at the end of August. It's definitely worth the luxury. . .

I've been too busy to be horny lately, until distracted (mostly by J). Hence the slowing down. Dates have been somewhat time consuming, although I've needed the comfort. I need still more, actually. I miss the familiarity of living with someone, being able to get some cuddle time in without scheduling a date.

I do have wonderful people in my life, so I can't complain too much. I hope they realize how special they are, and how important they are to me.

BDSM is a way for me to get an intense affirmation of a deep bond between msir and myself. We have a date tonight, but I wanted to record my feelings beforehand; the need for comfort and security.

11:01pm: Last Wednesday
Less than a week ago, J and I spent some time together. I wasn't sure if he was feeling emotionally well enough to have sex, but he seemed to actually need the release.

Indeed, it was quite an amazing experience to watch him, almost dazed at the intensity of the evening. Indeed, it was very intense, and watching him, seeing through to his soul, was an incredible experience for me (I can only imagine what it was for him).

I came many times, 22, actually. But it paled in comparison to what I saw in J's eyes.

3:21pm: It was a night of frustration, teasing, rubbing, licking, caressing, tension, hormones, frottage, smells, kissing, sucking, willpower, wetness, desire.

Later that night, alone, it took a bit longer than usual to masturbate. I've been having a heightened sensitivity lately to many things, and last night I had to take care while masturbating. I had to stop a few times because the feelings just got too intense. When I finally did orgasm, it released the pent-up frustration of the night, allowing me to drift off into sleep very soon afterwards.

4:03pm: A week ago. . .
A week ago I came home late at night, in a particularly horny state. I haven't been using my vibrator much, but last Monday night I got it out as I fell into bed. I was already wet from being horny, so the vibrator slipped around a few times.

Within short time I'd orgasmed. There's something about the short quick intense burst of shock to my system that I can bring myself to in under a few minutes. It's so all-encompassing, so completely body-frying and somehow, as a result, relaxing.

9:52pm: 2 Dates with J.
So I was fortunate enough to spend both a Thursday and Wednesday night with J.

On Wednesday night, we walked around a park for a bit, and then made our way to my place. We picked up some ice cream, figuring we'd have some ice cream on the porch. The front porch.

It's a nice porch. It's also in plain view of the street and a few of the neighbors. And yet, in the near dark, J. and I kissed and fooled around. And we groped. And he sat me down and licked me. Warm air, a gorgeous night, and J. licking my pussy. What could be better? Oh, yeah, the ice cream. We'd gotten double chocolate and not-so-sweet vanilla. Our senses were somewhat heightened by our libido, and we definitely savored the ice cream, until J put it away so we could concentrate on other activities.

He licked me, and even maneuvered around to thrust his fingers inside my cunt, until I came hard. We switched places and there I was, kneeling, sucking his cock on my front porch. He moaned with such pleasure -- it always does my heart good, makes me feel proud and nuturing and giving, when I make him moan.

Eventually we had to move inside -- we could not fuck on the porch; we hadn't brought any condoms out. When we got inside he encouraged me to be loud. . .which I happily complied with. We had happy noisy sex. At one point, between my orgasms, he asked me how many times I'd cum, and we were up to 25 or so. All in all, I came 32 times that night. I really do get a kick out of watching him watch me orgasm.

J. confessed at the beginning of the night to being extremely horny. It was interesting to see him that way.

The next night, we met again. We cuddled a bit and went to bed, as he showed up to my place later than usual -- I was too tired to start a sexual encounter. We fell asleep with the windows open because it was extremely warm, and woke up to a 2 am thunderstorm.

I knew I was not going to sleep through the loud crashes of thunder, the lightning flashing, temporarily illuminating the room, and the sound of the rain. So I rolled over and watched J. Within a very short time he stirred, so I put my arm around J and started kissing him gently and tenderly. We had a sleepy mini conversation, and I proceeded to seduce him. Being half asleep and feeling lazy, I did not feel too much like giving him a blowjob, so I climbed on top of him, and we slowly rocked back and forth while the thunderstorm turned him on. I tried not to be too distracted by thunderstorms; apparently many people are turned on by them. The lack of rhythm and presence of chaos in a storm is an event that demands my attention, as opposed to being a soundtrack, or an energy source.

Being tired, I didn't have much strength for orgasming. I orgasmed about 5 times, which put me into an utter state of exhaustion. I similarly tired out J.

11:27pm: masturbation
A week ago I masturbated, cumming 3 times. On Thursday night, I masturbated while reading a book.

For four hours.

I orgasmed over 40 times. It was quite delicious. Having spent time with both J. and msir, it was only fitting that I spend the time by myself. It wasn't planned, though, it was quite spontaneous. All in all, a good night.

11:27pm: J. came over last Tuesday night and helped me do some things around the house. I was very grateful to him. As well, I hadn't seen him in a while and wasn't sure if the nature of our relationship had changed, or if we'd just both been busy.

It turned out to be the latter, which was good. He was warm, as usual, and a pleasure to please. As was the trend this past week, we had sex for quite a while. I was extremely stimulated, and came 25 times. I was definitely in a sexual high last week (I may still be in it, I just haven't been as active yet this week). I also felt emotionally close with him, which was nice.

I feel like I'm not doing the experience justice. Sex is a very connecting experience for me -- usually it takes a lot out of me, but this past week involved a lot of recharging.

11:27pm: gravity defying sex!
msir and I spent last saturday night (8 days ago) together. We'd both been feeling a bit rundown and in need of a charge, so playing wasn't really happening. We cuddled in the evening and ended up falling asleep (I believe he did too, but I know I did, for a good hour). As has been happening lately, we've been interrupted for the more mundane stuff in life. This time, it was my work.

I have to say that part of me laments what I see as the fading of new relationship energy. And yet, what's replacing it is better -- familiarity. It's something I've been working on increasing in my life, so I can't quite complain that I've succeeded. We've succeeded, actually; it's not on my effort alone. We still have so much we want to do together, so the specialness of being together has not faded.

So anyway, I didn't mind the interruptions. We cuddled in a hot tub after the nap, and I was feeling low energy, so imagine my surprise when msir pulled out a condom. I'd imagined having sex in water before, but I'd never actually thought about doing it, because of the condom issue. No surprise, one can be sheathed in the water.

After having rested and relaxed, intercourse was different. It was languid and it was exceedingly satisfying. I did cum once, early on, without explicit permission (I'd thought it was implied).

Without gravity's usual constraints, we remained locked together for longer than usual. I came 17 times, which hasn't happened in a while, either. We definitely connected, wonderfully, very much how I'd wanted the night to go. Because I was drowsy the sex seemed to last for an extremely long period of time -- in a good way. Time seemed to stop. It was less frantic, less rushed, even towards the end. Super-stimulating msir was very hot, and as good as oral sex, given that I was too drowsy (and not inclined to get water up my nose) for that.

That night will remain in my memory for a particularly long time. I hadn't realized it was a fantasy I'd wanted fulfilled, but I guess that it was.

10:29pm: masturbation
I've gotten to spend some quality time with myself this week. Tuesday I orgasmed once -- it was very powerful. Wednesday I masturbated again, and came three times, all still powerful. I was in awe of myself, actually. I had had a particularly stressful week, with no orgasmic release, so I guess it's not a surprise thinking about it, but it definitely was a welcome shock to my system to cum so hard.

7:45pm: the waxing
I was particularly nervous for my bikini wax tonight. I'd attempted a bikini wax a long time ago, even before I started waxing my legs, and it was a disaster, and very painful. I eventually wanted to do a Brazilian wax, and figured the bikini wax was a good place to start. And at $25 a pop, doing a wax once wouldn't be too much of a financial drain even if I had to stop before she was finished.

So in I go to the salon. She applies the beeswax, which doesn't feel hot, just warm, and rips. Perhaps it's because it's the week after my period, and I read somewhere that that's the time when a woman is least sensitive to pain, or perhaps it just wasn't that painful, but I felt the hair removal more than I felt pain. I'm assuming part of that is because the waxer was doing a good job, too.

Anyway, it was all over in 10 minutes, start to finish. She waxed my inner thighs and the outer part of my mons. She had to apply wax twice to each area to get all the hairs, but now I'm smooth.

I happily paid my $25, tipped $3, and made an appointment in 4 weeks for a full Brazilian wax. I will enjoy it much more, and being completely smooth is always sexy. They do the mons (except for a strip), the outer labia, and the butt. I can't wait; I think I will likely get hooked.