I was going to write some witty ditty about how I was abducted into a magical forest with sexual fairies which waved wands that cast spells of orgasms and live fantasies to explain my absence in fictional grandeur. When alas, mid inspiration a few things veered me off this imaginary, sensual path and web I was attempting to weave like a black widow goddess luring her sexual pray to intense devouring sexual release…

…. and now I find myself feeling more like a siren on the rocks calling to lonely sailors and wondering if anyone will ever be real – and for me. So I’ve decided to take the rare, unbeaten path of vulnerable truth on my blog. You see, this babe is highly sexual and loves to explore, but I’m also pensive, emotional, full of thoughts, desires, longing, a hope to make some significant difference in this world and the lives of those around me…. and this babe is also loving.

I put in a mix a friend made. It’s mix he made as a cathartic journey of lost love, broken hearts and the strength to find joy in being vulnerable to love, once again. As the songs soaked into my being I found myself in reveries of my own love lost. Torn tales, shattered dreams, disappointments… and swimming in this sea of awareness that the woman I am today is shaped by all these experiences. As painful as love can be, it is also such a beautiful gift, even amongst its sharp blade. It’s up to us if we allow it to wound us forever or if we utilize its intensity to evolve. I’ve learned the most from lessons in love. They’ve been the hardest fought lessons. One’s which sometimes felt I would drown in, yet because of them I know the depth my strength. I walk confident upon my path because of these wounds. There is nothing like being a woman finally embracing your own strength, power and independence…. and realizing you aren’t afraid to be alone. It is liberating. It makes everything in life feel more full. I find contentment in the genuine connections, friendships, romances and sexual romps which float my way. It’s not easy being free of need within relationships, but I also cherish the freedom I have in my life.

These songs… wow, the power of music. It surely takes you somewhere. It’s like a narcotic with its altering affect. And here, as I type and think upon unrequited love, a message comes to me. An email from a lover whom I hadn’t heard from in only a few days, but it is no question it feels like a month. How does so much change in me in but a short few days? This man is not just a lover, he’s a romance, he’s a heart swooner… a moonlight crooner…he’s an enigmatic creature I’d like to unravel, unwind and spin into a golden spool of new sparkling love to weave a warm blanket to keep us both warm on chilly nights.

Amongst pain of the past, strength in the present, I find I still have courage to dream. Really, what do we have if not but our dreams? I could protect myself out of fear of what might never come… or I could choose to playfully roll in the lush green grass before me and await in juicy anticipation of what blossoms may spring forth from beneath it’s soil. Will they be beautiful? Will they be lasting love? Or will it just be this one glorious moment of dreaming…

I will forever keep my capacity to dream.

I feel as if I’m see thru thin apparent… a layer of gauze exposing the nipples of my heart. The water of emotions pours upon me and you can see past the thin veil. Yes, I am a romantic. I long to utilize my creative side to express heated passion and tender softness which brews inside my womanly heart, my moist yoni and emanates like an ambrosial incense from my supple, soft skin. I feel most in my element when I can conjure up my powers of sensuality and intense desire to arouse and seduce a man when I’m in love. Play lovers are fun, experimental, a blast really, but a true love is the best shared orgasm there is. When the fires of passion ignite from genuine respect, deep love and an internal depth which unites you two… that is a powerful moment of ecstasy which reigns supreme over any and all kinky, hedonistically fun desire. Love unleashes a different realm of my sensual self. When I am embraced by a man whom I feel truly loves me, and I him, I am immediately unguarded. The brick walls crumble under the mighty force of his gaze and I am swept into a realm in which I lose myself. I need no narcotic, nothing to free me from inhibitions… but a love before me. A woman with sweeping gestures of romance and deep love is but walking upon a path with hidden gems that explode under her feet bringing rushes of orgasms from the base of her being all the way up to her heavenly dreams.

Love is the ruler of my orgasm.

My heart longs to love again. To be in love, again. To be loved, once again.

There you have it, my friends. This blog it seems shall not just be silly sexual tidbits… it will be a glimpse into the whole of the babe before you… the vulnerable, the sexy and the loving. Perhaps the more authentic and real I am, the greater the journey will be.

Dream Big.

(next time, fantasies fairies and big cock wands?)

As I was enjoying a nice, long leisurely alone time filled with quality masturbation last night, I decided I had more to say about the lovely clitoris and my pussy. So while I just wrote about it, I’m delving further this Sunday. I have no doubt in the months to come this delicious topic will be revisited over and over like a multiple orgasm. The all knowing, all seeing, and all powerful clitoris! The juicy, sexy gem awaiting being stimulated so it may pour forth it’s magical elixir and whisk us ladies into a realm of erotic pleasure and ecstatic release… how could I not desire to write more? Let’s face it, I’m a woman who loves to orgasm, I think my pussy might end up being a large topic on this blog of mine. (I do have other interests, of course).

My clit gives me different sensations depending on where and how I touch it. I find the sides of my clit enormously sensitive. I can gently stroke up and down one of the sides and instantly start to feel that warm rush and tingling up my spine, and continuing through my body. The intensity and frequency greatly affects it too. It’s not just the same stimulus and I find my mood makes a difference as well. If I’m feeling feisty, I might fantasize of a really aggressive fuck, where I’m dominant and end up working my clit into a frenzy. Other times, light last night, it had been brewing and building all towards the end of the day. I just felt horny and I had endless fantasies popping into my head. I could be doing something mundane, like cleaning, and I’d get this visual of me kissing another woman, her soft skin under my hands and the lushness of her ass… Then my clit would start to pulse and my awareness would be drawn to the fact I was drifting into a sexual reverie. This particular visual we were naked and kissing. I just adore kissing, I could for hours, especially when it’s good. The intimacy and passion it can build is unparalleled. It is truly unique the sensual feeling one gets from kissing another woman. I crave it sometimes, even though I’m not a lesbian. So this fantasy is taking me away from my tasks. Forget trying to focus, by the end of the day I was more than ready to find some release. I wish I had a girl lover to play with last night!

The orgasm was in soft waves and I found my pussy already heightened in stimulus. I really didn’t have to do much to get there either. My pussy was low maintenance last night! I barely had to tap at my clit and just gently stroke my finger down along the outside of my labia before my whole yoni opened and I could easily slip a finger into my juicy insides. I was already warm and moist. I slowly and mildly fingered myself, but found my clit wanted more attention then my g-spot. So I pulled out just focused on really slight, small, gently upwards strokes on my clit. Right in the center this time, then working my way in a half circle up and down the left side. I don’t know what it is about my left side, but it’s my favorite. I love the sensation and I know it’s an instant orgasm. It’s kinda like my fast food of orgasm. I didn’t want to cum to fast however, so I drifted to the right and went back and forth over it. If I know I have the luxury of a long self-love masturbation session, I start really light. I keep myself at just that low threshold so the final climax has a super deep, powerful foundation. Those are the times when I find I can really gush hard.

My mind started to wander into a man sucking my clit and it almost made my yearnings worse. You know when you daydream of something you can’t have at the moment? It’s frustrating! It snow balled into a full on sexual marathon in my mind. This man had a thick cock, and his mouth was heaven. I couldn’t decided if I wanted to kiss him or have him lick me more, so I went back and forth to both in my mind. I fantasized about him plunging his thick hard on into me. That amazing full sensation one gets. I envisioned him really passionate and almost overtaking me. I surrendered to him in my mind. I swear sometimes sex is better in my imagination. Finding the right partner is so fucking hard.

I thought of pulling out my vibrator for a quick big O, but I knew it would be too much sensation and I wanted to just feel relaxed in my pleasure. Instead I pulled out a glass dildo and placed it inside my pussy. I didn’t fuck myself with it, I just wanted to feel full. My pussy was swollen and hot, totally engorged. I think if I really did have a man there fucking me I would’ve had orgasms through the roof over and over.

I kept the dildo in and made circles around my clit until I felt the familiar sensation of excitement and warmth rushing up my spine and a gasp escaped from my part lips. Instead of backing off(which is hard because the feeling is intense and I just want to ease off my pussy), I kept going and the gasp became a moan…. My back arched and my hips wanted to squirm away from my fingers. I kept them on me, ruthlessly seeking a deeper and higher orgasm than ever before… and it happened, I let out sound I have no idea what it must’ve sounded like a half moan, half scream? and my body shook, waves upon waves of amazing orgasms. Pure ecstasy. It brought emotions out of me, as orgasms often can. I laid on my bed holding myself, exhausted, peaceful and with tears.

There is an innate connection between my body and my spirit. Whether I am exercising, dancing or in this case enjoying an orgasm. It is release for me on more than one level. I see it in other people as well. It is always amazing to me how much people speak their body. EVERYONE says something with their bodies, whether they are aware of it or not. Bodies speak so much of a person.

But that is another tangent to write about on another day. For now I leave you with this…

Masturbating to my Babe-gasm

Our pussies really teach us about ourselves. They also give us independence. I am passionate about the importance of a woman having orgasmic independence. I adore sharing my orgasm. I’ve enjoyed it with men and with women, but there is something sacredly special to the intimate experience one has when alone with one’s pussy.

An interesting fact: The Italian anatomist Mateo Renaldo Colombo claimed to have discovered our clits way back in 1559. He called it amor Veneris, vel dulcedo “the love or sweetness of Venus.” How hilarious a man claims to have discovered it. I’m pretty sure a woman had it figured out way before. However, I am completely pleasured by his name for our clits:

“The love or sweetness of Venus.”

Now that is beautiful. How lovely a man would grace our erogenous zone with such a name. He must’ve been a romantic. I wonder if he wrote secret love letters to an unrequited love…

The unrequited love of women with their gateway to venus. I say we need a new era of sexuality. Not the feminist burning bras, but an era of women fully embracing how powerful it is to be a sensual, sexual woman. That includes nurturing ourselves, our orgasms and our men, our girlfriends, and oozing unabashedly and unashamedly our seduction. Like drips of nectar pouring out of our skin and dripping upon the path we walk. Enticing, alluring and empowering.

Ladies, our pussies are OURS. LOVE THEM. ADORE THEM. STROKE THEM. PLEASURE YOURSELF. EACH OTHER.

Men, I love men. Feel free to delve into the great discovering that is uncovering a woman’s deep orgasm from her yoni. As I fully am elated to take my time learning every amazing nuance of yours….

… till next time, cocks hard, pussies wet. Enjoy.

I’m late! For a very important masurb-date! says I to my rabbit vibrator. It’s Sunday evening. I thought for certain I’d have this post up early Sunday. Well fuck it all the day blew by. I figured with the Super Bowl mania no one would be checkin’ in to my sensationally, sexily silly Blondonia. However, now that the game has ended, we’re all loopy from excitement and libations, I thought it would be an appropriate time for a foray into the wild realm of my deviant mind.

First, I’ll admit I didn’t watch the game. I also haven’t had libations. Yeah. Yeah. Smack my bottom raw for the shame and guilt I should be feeling. I used to be a ballerina and I think to myself, wow, if only the arts had as much support as football. The whole world stops so they can go see the next opening of a new choreographic highlight. Ballet can be sexy, really! Tackle my ballerina booty…

Tackle My Ballet Booty

Anyway, I enjoy watching football, just didn’t today. So, here’s a tidbit, I used to work with football players (does anyone wonder what the Blonde Babe does for a living?). They were hilarious how they’d joke with me. They were also frankly, fucking huge. Their deltoids alone were massive. They are like jungle gyms I could climb all over. Actually, I’ve never sexually tackled a football player (ads that to the to-do list), but I’ll admit it could be a fun fantasy. I can’t help but imagine what such a strong athlete could do. It’s enticing to consider being physical with a man who spends his whole existence conditioning his body. You’d know he’d have the stamina, but would he have the intrigue? I have to have someone intelligent to be interested, regardless of physique.

That said, he’d be so strong he could throw you around any which way, spin you around his cock till you were seeing orgasms. I could do all those out there kamasutra moves you only get to try on rare occasions. Like being upside down while he’s standing eating me out and I’m sucking his cock. Or even just riding him while he’s standing would be rockin’. These things are not always easy for a woman like me, considering I’m 5′ 10″. I’ve done it before, but I’m always afraid ‘m going to knock the guy over. Can you imagine? A cock in my mouth and I take us barreling to the ground, tumbling over like a falling tower praying he doesn’t knock his teeth out against my pelvis?

I have been on my hands in a handstand, with the guy holding my ass, my legs spread in the splitz while he’s penetrating down into me and he was pushing so hard my arms were collapsing, but I didn’t want to say anything because it felt so good… and then I slipped and we both collapsed in a heap. It was hilarious. We both laughed. Laughing in sex in moments like that is the best. I rode the hell out of him right after. I aggressively turned him onto his back, climbed on top and you’d think I was a pro bull rider the way I let loose my pelvis on him. I was sweating from the intensity and orgasms were rolling up my spine. I kept telling him not to cum since my orgasms were rolling one after the other, until I could see he was about to lose his mind, I stopped and said, “Okay, fuck me however the fuck you want”. He bent me over and went wild on me in doggie style until he came on my face. There is nothing like getting a man right to that brink and seeing him get animalistic on you. It’s an enormous turn on for me.

I’m getting off track again. Damn my deviant mind! Back to the football theme. What is the obsession with cheerleaders? That they are fit and flexible? Frankly, I find them way too cheery. Who the hell is that ridiculously happy all the time? And why do they have to be so loud and talk about lip gloss all the time? I’ve never had pleasant encounters with cheerleaders unfortunately, so maybe I’m jaded. They’d either be rude to my face or they’d be as sweet as sugar that you knew was poisoned. I’m sure there are fantastic women who are cheerleaders. I just haven’t met them yet. I’ be more than happy if some sexy, fit cheerleader found it necessary to enlighten me. Really, I wouldn’t mind. Convince me your the cats meow ladies. Personally, I like feisty, powerful women who have unique pathways in life. Then the passion is dynamic and deep. It makes for delicious, creative sexual adventures. And yes, you’ll hear about them, right here.

Right now though, I feel like just sitting and masturbating. I’m pulsing, wet and needing a release! I can go for hours when I get like this. There are times when my body flat out demands it, and this is one of them. It’s an argument I’d never win, since it’s been far to long since I’ve enjoyed sex with a man (or a woman for that matter). And really, why should I argue with my need for the sustenance of orgasm? Now that would be insanity. Do you know that back in the day they used to treat women for “hysteria” by manually finger fucking them? Oh my could that ever a long post in and of itself. I need to start keeping a list of what I want to share. It’s endless!

I’m off for my important masurb-date. I think I can outlast the energizer bunny but I’ve got fresh batteries, and you know what? I’m pretty sure this rabbit vibrator is going to put out for me…