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I don’t exactly wake up in the morning, jump out of bed and fist pump because I have a totally sweet vadge.  Although I have finally arrived at a place where I truly love, accept and celebrate my vagina.  I don’t mind my weeny little labia or clit.  I don’t obsess that I look different anymore.  Once you realise there is no ‘different’ you can be free to fully enjoy all that you have without an inner dialogue of anxiety or shame.  I think what I have is just lovely.  Sex, self pleasure, child birth, orgasms and peeing are all pretty awesome things.  I’m thrilled my ladyparts can accomodate all these wonderful activities.

I sincerely hope more and more women realise they are blessed and brilliant just as they are.

The above piece of writing is what will accompany the image that I shot for a very special project this evening:101 Vagina

The blog or story sharing space of the site, is very, very special… I have been reading the submissions over the past couple of days and I am struck by the honesty of the stories and the feeling of a shared experience. These are all women I don’t know, but we have all battled body shame about the most amazing and beautiful parts of our bodies.

I encourage anyone interested in contributing an image or their story (or both!) to contact Philip, the creator of this project and to get involved. We had a brilliant discussion this evening about vagina-shame, body-shame, media, porn and all kinds of other wonderful and interesting things.

He is especially trying to capture some more images of older women or women of different ethnicities, to give the project balance and to try to give a broad picture of the vagina spectrum.

Hooray for vaginas!

To add to the book of super-sexy awesome adventures.

Awwww yeah. Laf.

A little while ago now, me and the boy went out bush to a small-ish doof party.

Hella fun times were had, there was only a small group of friends camped together and it was a nice mix of folks. The Saturday evening was fun, some drinks, I cooked up a delish bush-carbonara and we were snuggled down in my panelvan together by 3am.

Sunday was brilliant, woke up and ate bacon, consumed caffeinated beverages, then donned my beautiful new corset. I strutted about feeling a million dollars, I recieved loads of compliments, I danced about on the main floor and wandered into the bush a little to let my boy take some photos of my newest garment. (pictures will follow this post, I promise!)

We had to head home at lunchtime to be able to get in, unpacked, washed and dinner-ed in preparation for the working week ahead. On the travels home is when the really, really fun stuff happened…

I was somewhat trashed thus the boy took the driving reins. He isn’t used to driving my car so we didn’t have tunes on. About an hour of the drive in I was down to my knickers and singlet, legs akimbo and having a whole lot of fun in the passenger seat.

Such a turn on to be mostly naked, touching myself, being touched by him in our moving car.  I was adamant – no orgasms til we arrived home.  When there was no other traffic I would touch his cock and put him in my mouth.  Although mostly I was groping myself, enjoying being rough with my breasts and nipples, finger fucking myself and rubbing over my clit.  Periodically showing him how wet I was.

I described one of my most gaurded fantasies to him, in detail.  It’s the first time I have ever told anyone, let alone asked them to actually act it out with me.

I felt so alive and so wild, unihibited and delighting in the dirtiest and darkest parts of my mind.

This rampant touching and teasing play continued the entire drive home, the whole 2 and 1/2 hours and true to my claim, there were no orgasms.  Somewhat hilariously, we ran out of petrol on the massive freeway reentering the city.  I, of course redressed, the freeway patrol attended and we were refueled and on our way home within about 30 minutes.

Once home, we exceptionally quickly unpacked the car and derobed to shower away the dust and dirt.

We closed the door to our bedroom, put on some chilled music and turned on the heater so the cold wouldn’t bother our exposed forms.

…to be continued…


Summer’s almost gone
Summer’s almost gone
Almost gone
Yeah, it’s almost gone
Where will we be
When the summer’s gone?

Morning found us calmly unaware
Noon burned gold into our hair
At night, we swam the Laughing sea
When summer’s gone
Where will we be
Where will we be
Where will we be

Morning found us calmly unaware
Noon burned gold into our hair
At night, we swam the Laughing sea
When summer’s gone
Where will we be

Summer’s almost gone
Summer’s almost gone
We had some good times
But they’re gone
The winter’s comin’ on
Summer’s almost gone

Thank you for submitting your site to JanesGuide! Our staff has completed your
review and your site was given a \”quality\” rating.

Jane’s Guide is *the* shit when it comes to Adult review sites, they review toys, books, websites and blogs. I’ve always had them on my blogroll, our sites at work are listed on the Jane’s Guide and we hold them in high esteem and I also used the site as a guide myself.

I submitted a review request there months ago and totally forgot about it!

See my review here

Famous on the internets! w00t!

I also now have a nifty little banner over to the left too! I have a ‘Quality and Original Content’ rating.  Awwww yeah!

Huzzah! I am so happy!

*dances*

I was reading something online (I’ve stupidly forgotten where, what a genius!) and a somewhat off the cuff comment was made that you can’t be a beautiful, feminine Goddess and a filthy, submissive whore. One negates the other.

My immediate reaction was, why not?

I consider myself both and a hell of a lot of other things as well as those. Why does enjoyment of submissive sex exempt you from being able to feel like/be a Goddess? When I think of the characteristics I consider Goddess-like, the ability to trust and to be vulnerable are high on the list. I associate feeling like a Goddess with powerful, feminine energy. Does that mean when I want to be spanked and held down that I instantly become powerless or unfeminine? I find it’s quite the opposite really…

My underlying issue with the entire concept is that it pidgeon holes women based solely on a sex-act. Aside from anything else I significantly doubt anyone has the same kind of sex consistantly and why are we defining anyone by the way they like to fuck?

Why does female sexuality have to be broken down into an easily swallowed, 2 dimensional box? Not to mention once you’re in a certain ‘box’ you had damn well better stay put. There will be NO multifaceted or evolving sexual growth here, make your choices and make them well.

Do these notions exist because it’s easier to understand? Or is it because people are really that ignorant?

I honestly do not know, but it really, really bothers me.

Twitter.

I find it somewhat confusing to use but I am assured it’s all the rage… I get the feeling I speak about twitter the way my mum does about gmail. Hmmmmm.

Anywho, I’m sure I’ll work it out, follow me here: MySexyBrains

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