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?)

Well, oh my. The woman in my boat is charged and tingling. It just received some attention. In fact, this boat was unexpectedly bumped by a walrus. This walrus is apparently demented he says, and he’s drunken.. which explains why he bumped my boat, of course. Or maybe that rocking motion was implying something else? Rocking my metaphorical online clit to a world wide webgasm, he was. Thanks, Walrus dude. He says he’s sad on this Sunday, no more football soon. That just makes a babe like myself feel much compassion. How ’bout I post on Sundays for you football forlorn guys? I can never be as hot as guys sweating, tackling and swatting each other’s rump, but I’ll damn well do my best and give it the ol’ cheerleader try.  You wonder what you should discuss now that football season is coming to a close soon? I have a topic. CLITS. You all can discuss how to lick, suck and nibble on them. Share trade secrets. You can start by getting some inspiration and ideas from a woman who enjoys clits herself… this Blonde Babe. So, overly profane mouthed Walrus, this post is for you, from the fairly hot blonde babe. Please read on…

Blonde Babe in Her Boat

This walrus really made me ponder this whole boat, man and rocking thing. I am not a woman who is unfamiliar with the female anatomy. I’ve spent plenty of time investigating the wonderful nuances of mine and a fleet of boats. Yet still, I was confused. I mean, why is it typically called the man in the boat? Must it be masculine? Should it not be a woman in the boat if it’s my clitoris? My clit is not masculine. Sure, it gets erect, engorged with blood… but is it my hypothetical cock? I think it’s the gateway to my womanhood. Into a realm of pleasure that when a woman is fully in there is no denying her sexual allure. It’s is purely, beautiful, erotic femininity. It can make me loud, wild, heated, passionate, wet, titillated and uninhibited. Now that is some power. Just turn that little button on and a woman’s mind, body and soul can be freed. It is an intrinsic ingredient in the perfect mix which takes me from rational mind to a threshold of pure sensation, wild passion and ultimate release.

I love my clitoris. My clit. My lovely, beautiful, sexy, full of feeling clit. Every woman should have clit pride.

However, the clitoris does unify us with men. Let’s discuss dick for a brief second. And trust me that’s hard(pun so intended) for me because I really love men and their fantastical dicks. Phew. I get a bit charged just typing that. In fact there will be many posts to come about my absolute passion for the male anatomy. But, back on track.. the penis develops from the same mass of tissue as the clitoris in the embryo. It’s like the physical metaphorical unification when a dick is rubbed against a clit. Dicks and clits are nerve twins.

It blows my mind when I hear a woman doesn’t like oral pleasure? Are there many men who don’t like their cock sucked? I’d bet we’d be hard pressed to find them. Although I did meet one man who said he didn’t enjoy blowjobs. Naturally, I took that as a challenge as I looked at him totally dumfounded. “What?!”, says the Blonde Babe. “That’s devastating! I love to suck cock and I take pride in it dammit! Get your cock over here and you will enjoy it!”. But seriously. Why would so many women not enjoy receiving oral sex? A few things come to mind: embarrassment, lack of connection to their orgasm, emotional turbulence with their partner, insecurity, lack of self worth, fear, society brainwashing. Women, pleasure yourself and be pleasured. It’s your body, it’s your orgasm. Yours alone. Or shared. But it’s YOURS.

This all of course doesn’t just relate to a woman’s clit. It’s applies to the whole shebang. As in she-bangs-herself-to-orgasm. How is it women can go their whole lives and never really have a full orgasm? I absolutely am going to passionately write post after post of detailed erotic releases I enjoy until it tantalizes you to explore your own. This is just the start.

Personally, I couldn’t live a fulfilled life without my waves of multiple orgasms. It’s a part of my living, breathing existence. All this talk of my clit, it’s practically screaming at me for attention. This is the Blonde Babe, signing out to go enjoy an explosive series of toe curling orgasms with my woman in my boat: MY PROUD CLITORIS.