Diary of a Nympho

My best friend once said of me, "You're the only person I know who proudly displays their vibrator in their soap dish."

I really believe this had more to do with the fact that I'm rather lazy than anything related to my unquenchable thirst for all things sexual. Still, while it may not be evidence that I am a true nympho (but am a slovenly housekeeper), it certainly is an indication of my sacred bath time ritual.

When I was a young teen, I spent many hours masturbating - more than once a day, too. I often daydreamed of when I'd be a grown woman and how I would have the most amazing collection of sex toys; especially vibrators. I was fascinated with vibrators even though I'd never seen an actual one outside of the local Spencer's. I loved the idea of being able to have something that hummed and quaked that I could stick inside me. Now grown, I own only three vibrators and I never use them two of them. I found, once I finally began having sex, that having something that hummed and quaked inside me couldn't even compare to the soft warm harness of male flesh.

That said, while I may not have the vast sex toy assortment I hoped for as a teen, I have all I need, all any woman needs, to keep me happy. My hand-held shower massager. It's not just for showering anymore. Trust me.

Now I can't see a woman alive not enjoying the thundering rain of water pounding against her clit, but I believe masturbation via water holds an even more erotic feeling for me. My first ever experience with masturbating was in a swimming pool - lined up perfectly with the pump jets. I didn't know what I was doing, but I knew it felt good; damn good. I've been obsessed with "water sports" (no, not that kind) ever since.

So it was with much delight that I finally ordered a slim waterproof vibrator for my tub-time fun - and yes, Bubbles sits in my bathtub's soap dish. The combination of humming vibrator and pounding-water-on-clit is a sureproof cum-within-seconds orgasm for me. It has become a bath time ritual for me. Shave - bathe - wash hair - masturbate. I come out feeling completely cleansed.

I usually bathe with bubble bath and plenty of candles in the room. Sometimes I'll have a glass of wine or champagne, or just a beer. The entire time I'm in the tub, while I'm doing all of my other "cleaning duties", I'm thinking about sex. Hot, dirty, nasty, wet sex - whatever scenario fits my mood at the time. By time I get to the last part, I'm more than ready.

I turn the massager on jet-spray, the high-powered one, and tease myself with it for long moments at a time. Moving from my clit down the length of my pussy. There isn't an inch of it that doesn't love the feel of that jetstream. When I've gotten myself completely aroused and ready, I take Bubbles, turn him on, and gently slide him just inside of myself. I hold him there, barely pushing, and let the massager work its magic on my clit - the more aroused I get, the more I open up, and the more the vibrator slowly slides inside. It really doesn't take long, once that's slid in, for me to have the most amazing orgasm.

It almost beats the warm flesh of an actual cock.

Almost.

Why I Did Not Give You That Quickie In-Public-&-Under-the-Table Handjob the Other Day

I hope you don't think I was ignoring him or that I was simply refusing to give him any attention whatsoever. Both of you must think I dislike him, but nothing could be further from the truth. You must know that I am completely mesmerized by him!

You may just think that I'm reticent and apprehensive about doing it in public during our short visits - but it is much more than that! My first impulse is always to get my hands on him as soon as he makes an appearance. You have no idea. You see, he is simply god-like in my mind. It seems almost sacrilegious to go at him with anything but reverence and respect. To simply have quick and non-meticulous contact with him is akin to eating a communion wafer and wine as a snack with no pre-ritual! It is feeding caviar to your dog or pouring Dom Perignon out on the ground as soon as the cork is popped. It is taking something that should be sacred and revered and making it base and mundane. I don't feel right skimming over something I feel should be savored, studied, worshipped, and handled with respect.

When I see him, I am drawn to him like a moth to a light. I want to trace every contour of his being with my finger and then my tongue. I want to memorize every mark, every movement, every curve and twist of his body. I want to learn everything that pleases him, and to what degree he enjoys each of my endeavours. I want to know him; every nuance of his existence. So much so that I desire the time and ability to do just that - and to interact with him on any level less seems down right blasphemous.

You musn't ever think that I like to ignore him or that I enjoy teasing him. I want only to treat him as he truly deserves, and as I really want.

Always,
Bendis

I don't normally talk about newsworthy events on this blog, but this particular headline really caught my attention. I was outraged to read about the arrest of Joanne Webb, as I'm sure many of you were. All I've read on the subject, even comments from residents of Burleson, TX, is that this is not about Joanne breaking the law, but about her obvious comfortableness (and openness) about being a sexual and sexually-charged being. That's right, folks, Joanne Webb is in hot water not because she was selling sex toys, but because the ultra conservative town she lived in couldn't stand the thought of a true-blue nympho living in their midst. Joanne is one of us - she is like the many that read these sex-fueled blogs and those who, like myself, have such a passion for sex and all its trappings that we write about it, think about it, talk about it and make it a part of our everyday lives. She's a fellow nympho - and she's being condemned for it.

I found the most interesting reading on the entire scandal at Toyslut's Weblog. The comments from the Burlesonites were most enlightening (note that none of them left an email address or URL). Go on over there and take a gander at what they had to say.

You see, basically what I get out of all that is that Joanne Webb is comfortable being sexual, which means that she can't also be a good Christian. If she "flaunts" her sexuality - wearing sexy clothing or selling sex toys - she is a disgrace to the conservative town and to God himself. It's this kind of thinking that outrages me. There is nothing wrong with being a sexual person, or expressing that side of yourself! Attitudes like this are what causes millions of people to be uncomfortable with themselves and their sexual desires. These thought processes are what makes it "wrong" to be open about your sex life, "wrong" to be gay or bisexual or transexual or whatever-sexual you may be, "wrong" to be a nympho and proud of it. They turn the beautiful thing that is sex into something dark and immoral, something to be hidden away behind closed doors and never, ever talked about. If you like sex, you might as well throw out your Bible - you're going straight to hell. If you like to talk about sex, shop at sex stores, watch porn or dress sexily - you must be Satan's spawn.

Sex is an amazing, wonderful, silly, beautiful, mind-blowing, fun, awesome thing and I can't abide by anyone that smears it, trashes it, and makes it something disgusting and unholy. Fight 'em every step of the way, Joanne - this nympho's behind you.

Even though the setting was public and over-crowded, it seemed we were the only two people in the world. Had I inched any closer to his warm body, I'd of been in his lap. Our heads were bowed down and together, talking low and whispering indecent things into one another's ear. We had finished eating and it seemed that both of our minds were now on one thing only. The table offered no covering to hide any indecorous act we might wish to engage in, but my J. can be ingeniously surreptitious.

His breath was hot against my neck and his wet tongue so deft in my ear that I thought I might cum from the simple contemplation of such skill being employed elsewhere. Suddenly he took my hand and began to guide it towards that warm and hard spot between his legs. I pulled away, giving him an astonished look. How could we, my eyes asked, with all of these people around? Even though we sat in a corner of the room, there were crowded tables around us on two sides. The room was full of eyes that could turn our way and perceive our indecency at any given moment. "Trust me," he responded without ever speaking as I watched him rearrange his jacket as to make his nether region less visible.

He slowly undid his pants, watching my expression and glancing around to make sure we were not noticed all at once. I caught my breath as he pulled his magnificent cock into view. I am a cock connoisseur and it was pure delight to see one so fetching. My first instinct was to take that hard, smooth member and put it into my mouth - it begged to be bathed by my tongue and suckled with ardor. I could not, naturally, as hiding my head bobbing in his lap would have been ultimately impossible. Instead he took my hand again and led it back between his legs. I heard his soft moan as I wrapped my cool hand around his warm, throbbing cock. I began to stroke him, twisting only my wrist so that the obvious movements of my arm would not give us away.

What if were caught - what if someone sees us? The thoughts raced through my head as I stroked him. I felt worried, but the wetness in my pants indicated what the situation was truly doing to me.

"Wait," he told me suddenly. He took my hand, and cupping it, spit into it. I smiled, and when I placed my hand and went to work once more, I knew he wasn't far away from cumming. I was able to work my magic much better with the lubrication.

"I'm about to cum," he told me, leaning forward and crushing my lips with a passionate kiss. I could feel his mounting climax in his uncontrolled kiss and my hand picked up its speed. He moaned around our dueling tongues and I could feel his cock throbbing with his orgasm. Hot jizz dribbled over my fingers as I squeezed the last drops from him.

I pulled my shaking hand away, grabbing napkins from the table, and glancing around furtively - suddenly once more aware of my surroundings. I handed him a napkin so he could clean himself, but I doubted there was anyway to wipe the grin from his face.

Life's funny sometimes.

I have another blog, a regular old-bitch-and-rant fest, my day-to-day life and gripes type of thing. I post to it almost every day. This blog, being rather subject-matter-oriented, I don't tend to post to as much. I can bitch about anything in the other blog. This blog is about sex, and I want to keep it that way. I don't get as much sex as I used to, so I tend not to post as much. I really hate that, because this was my first blog and it has a special place in my heart.

Back to the point, though. Because the other blog is a near daily-effort, I spend a small amount of time working on making it a "popular blog". It has its small, faithful ring of readers, and I'm happy with that. Afterall, why else do we create online journals if not to have others read them? I enjoy people reading my work, and I take pleasure in the fact that they enjoy what I write. I don't need a 25,000 hits + a day to be content, but to know I have at least a few returning readers makes me feel good - writing is my craft, afterall.

So I was able to hunt down a free stat counter that actually showed "keywords". I thought it would be amusing, after seeing others post similar finds, to see how people found my blog - what did they type into search engines to make me pop up? For shits and giggles, and almost as an afterthought, I added one to this blog.

Imagine my surprise to find out the next day that, even though I haven't posted in over a month, I was getting approximately 100 to 50 hits a day here. I had no idea! The point of all this is not to brag, but to say thank you!! As I poked around the stat counter I found a bevy of wonderful blogs (sexually-oriented and not) linking here to me! It made my day. It made my entire week.

Why? Because I was getting so many hits? Hardly. I was overjoyed at the fact that, well, you like me. You really like me. Not that I thought you wouldn't, but it gives me great pleasure to know that so many actually enjoy what they read here. Perhaps I've inspired some great self-pleasuring, a quick little couple nookie...or even caused some to start writing down their own sexual escapades and fantasies. That is what makes me feel good. I love sex and everything to do with it - and if I can help others enjoy sex in any way, shape, form or fashion, then I've done something I'm proud of.

So, to all who come and read - to all who come and check back faithfully even when I haven't posted in awhile - to each and every one that has linked to me - to those that have emailed me and commented - thank you. I really have been making plans to post a lot more often, and now there is even more incentive for that.

Now, go out there and give a loved one some good oral sex - or, if you're alone, take some time to give yourself a mind-blowing orgasm. And have a great weekend.

Oh, it's been way too long!

It had been a lazy day all around. The golden autumn afternoon had been filled with honeyed talk and the light amber cool of cheap Chardonnay. We wandered outside to enjoy the fading light and the growing chill to the air, our eyes heavy and drooping as the setting sun.

I wandered back inside. It was darker inside, the only light was a washed-out pale gray shining through the slats in the blinds. I lay down right there on the floor, the new carpet thick and lush underneath me. I soon felt him lie down beside me, wrapping an arm around and pulling me closer to him. His warm breath on my neck made butterflies flutter in my stomach. I soon heard his rhythmic breathing and knew that he had dozed off. I found myself lulled into a light slumber as well as the light around us grew dimmer.

I slept only for a few minutes, but when I opened my eyes the room was darker. Some light still came in, but dusk was approaching. My movements awoke him and I felt the soft, wet of his lips on the back of my neck. I moaned, stretching my body and inching it even closer to his. His hand slipped under my shirt and I gasped as his fingers closed around my nipple, pinching it roughly. I pushed my ass back against him, feeling the hardness of his cock through his boxers. His moan drove me on, and I began rubbing my ass against him as he bit down harder on my neck.

Soon his hands had a new duty in mind, and I felt him pulling his boxers down with an urgency that made me even wetter. I rolled around to my other side so that I was facing him and scooted down so that his hard cock was right in front of my face.

"Oh, god," he moaned as I slid my lips over his cock and flicked my tongue over the head. That delicious little wine buzz I'd been experiencing all afternoon kicked into overdrive, and I found myself suckling and licking him with a fervor and intensity that had him crying out and pulling at my hair. It wasn't long before he was begging me to stop, afraid he would spill his seed before we had a chance to actually have sex.

I couldn't stop. I pushed him over on his back and went at it from a different angle, knowing this would slow down the rise to orgasm for him; for a few moments anyway. I climbed on top of him, running my hands up under his shirt and clawing at his chest. I was struck with a sudden urgency - I had to have him inside of me.

I slid up his body, licking his lips and moving down to nibble on his neck. I felt his hand down there, guiding his throbbing cock towards my pussy. "I want you inside of me," I purred in his ear. As I felt the head of his dick graze my lips, I quickly pushed and slid down on it - eliciting a long moan from the both of us.

Oh, there's nothing I like better than riding a man. Or perhaps, it's just that I love being in control. Either way, it was evident that neither of us was going to last long in this position. I started swiveling my hips and sliding up and down his dick with obvious delight. He grabbed my ass and quickly matched my movements. The room was almost completely dark now and the only sound was our low whimpers and noisy moans.

Every few moments we'd pause; he was having trouble keeping himself from going over the edge. Finally, I felt the rise begin inside of me and my movements fell into a deep and deliberate dance.

"I can't..stop...if you keep doing that," he panted, but I barely heard him. I was on a mission and my own orgasm was my goal. I knew that he would cum when I did. I cried out, picking up speed as I felt the first wave hit me - waves that rode up, each higher than the first, cresting into the next surge. I screamed - and then I felt him cumming. This was all I need to hit my peak. I could just barely feel him digging into my back, and his screams and cries seemed to match my own. But it was hazy - as if I were hearing it from some distant place somewhere above us.

And then it was over...as suddenly as it began. I found myself back in my sweaty body, lying on top of him - both of us panting and trying to calm our breathing and slow our hearts. I looked down at him and he gave me a smile, "Let's go take a bath together."

What better way to end a perfect sexual romp?

If I wake up with a slight moan, caress your arm and tell you I've been dreaming about having sex with you all night - what would your reaction be? If the next words out of my mouth are a low and breathless, "Baby, I want you," do you think we'd end up being late to work that morning?

My body knows what I need even more than my mind does. Last night I dreamed about sex all night.

The first dream I remember was being in a room with two blonde, naked chicks. We were all sitting on opposite sides of the room, and we were all extremely horny. Well, I knew I was and I assumed they were as well as they kept rubbing their clits and fucking themselves with vibrators. Good enough guess, eh? I kept wishing they would come over and get dirty with me, but none of us ever advanced towards making a move. Could this dream be a representation of sexual frustration???? Nah.

Next I dreamed I was at this huge house party; it appeared to be some type of rave. There were all these little Asian guys dressed like thugs walking around and one of them pushed me in a room. He was going to rape me, and at first I resisted a tad. But then I couldn't wait to feel his cock inside of me. Could this dream be about sexual desperation? Nah.

The other dream I had (yes, I swear, this was all in one night), involved me trying as hard as I could to get myself off with all my various toys and oils. I wanted to come so badly, but it wasn't happening. Could this dream be signifying the feeling of hopelessness that surrounds my sex life as of late? Nah.

This novice dream interpreter's diagnosis is - this nympho needs to get fucked hard!.

I can't leave my loyal readers high and dry for too long. Time to get everyone all wet again with a juicy, recent exploit.

I think my favorite sex is wake-up sex. There's just something utterly delicious about coming out of sleep right into some groggy groping, leading to a few yawning moans, flowing into some slow, stretching grinding and ending in an orgasm that makes a morning-caffeine jolt pale in comparison.

The alarm pulled me rudely out of my slumber. It went off for a few moments, and even though he was closer, he didn't move to turn it off. I leaned over him and swatted around the top of the clock until my fingers hit the right button. Snooze. I scooted my body closer to his, he was warm and the a/c had, overnight, turned the apartment into the equivalent of a meat locker. I tucked my head into the crook of neck and shoulder and felt his hand in my hair. I hadn't even realized he was awake. He started stroking my hair, playing with it, sometimes running his hand down the back of my neck. In that pre-morning haze I perked up just a bit - could he be horny? B. isn't usually known for his sexual enthusiasm and I always hold onto the glimmer of hope that a little push from the Morning Wood Fairy will up the odds in my favor. Could this be one of those mornings. I decided to be a little brazen, and kissed his neck softy (coming on to B. is the eqivalent of sneaking up on an alert deer - you never know when he'll turn and run the other way). His gentle answering moan was all the confirmation I needed. I let my hand snake down between his legs to find the fairy had, indeed, blessed us this early morning. I stroked his bulge through his underwear and felt his caressing go down my arms, to my belly and thighs. Rolling on my back to give him better access, I felt a finger slip over my pussy lips - already moist - teasing me with slow, long strokes along the length of it. I moaned, trying to concentrate on still stroking him, but enjoying the feeling of his sliding fingers almost too much. This didn't go on long, the teasing and stroking and moaning, before I uttered that I wanted him inside of me.

I turned over on my side in what is known as the "spooning" position. It's one of my favorites, as it allows ample opportunity for him to rub my clit while I gyrate in my own, preferred rhythm. He scooted up against me, pulling me even closer to him and I raised my leg up as he stroked me with the head of his cock. I squirmed a little, trying to get just the right angle for him to penetrate me, and finally felt him slide all the way inside. He collapsed against me with a little moan and his fingers quickly found their way to my clit. I swirled my hips and thrust back against him as he simultaneously pumped back into me. With his fingers strumming my clit, this couldn't last too long.

I came in a matter of mintues, crying out and bucking up against him. He held me tight while I cursed and shuddered and as soon as mine ended, began pumping into me with fervor. Within seconds, he was cumming too and his cries of pleasure were as pleasurable to my ears as my own orgasm had been.

Can I say, there is simply no better way to start off the day.

I promised details - and I always deliver.

Friday night arrived in a cacophony of mayhem - I had to work late and was, therefore, running late. I'd had possibly the most stressful work week of my life and was ready to kick back, relax, have a drink, and view some new sex toys (not necessarily in that order).

Oddly enough, I and my two friends arrived just on time. There were about 10 women there, most of whom I knew vaguely, and we all sat in a big circle in the living room around what, at first, appeared to be an alter to Aphrodite. It was covered in assorted bottles of oils and lotions and creams, and various other sexual playthings. The toys weren't out yet, but there was underwear and lingerie laid out as well.

The spiel was lightening quick and before the first 20 minutes were done, my hands and arms were covered in lotions and oils that served varying purposes, and my chest was aglow with glitter. We got to sample just about everything. I had the strangest taste in my mouth, since all of it was edible and I'd mixed it with my beer. There are oils and lotions for everything you can dream up. Like a Virgin was an oil that made your pussy tighten up for a tighter fit, there was one that numbed the back of your throat to kill your gag reflex, and even one that loosened up your asshole for anal penetration. I can't even remember half of what all I saw, there was such an assortment. It was a rich nympho's dream and a poor nympho like me's utter frustration. We took a short break as she picked up the bottles and laid out the real stars of the night - the toys.

I've never seen so many dildoes, vibrators, clit-suckers, butt plugs and weighted balls in all my life. I wanted one of everything. Of course, my meager paycheck does not allow for many sexually-oriented splurges, so I really had to get just what I desired the most.

Let me take the time now to introduce you all to my new friend who is as-yet-unnamed. His given name is the Jelly-Gyrating-Beaver and he's as fun as he sounds. I honestly wasn't going to buy a new vibrator. As I said, the one I have works just fine and is new. Yet as I sat there looking at the ones in front of me, I remembered that when I'm using a vibrator (outside of the tub) I always wished for something to also be vibrating on my clit. This is one of those deals you see with the little beaver on the top of the vibrator that stimulates your clit whilst the the other part is fucking you. I was in a mad rush to find batteries Saturday morning as soon as I woke up, and let me just say this about my new friend...wow. I really wasn't expecting it to be quite as good as it was. I'm sure you'll be hearing more about this new toy in posts to come.

The next purchase, that I'm equally as satisfied with, is a cream called Nympho Niagra. This was gotten on recommendation from the hostess of the party, a good friend and fellow-nympho-Scorpio. She raved about it, and I remembered another nympho-Scorpio friend telling me the same thing about the cream. I had to try this. As opposed to those warming-to-make-you-tingle lotions (which I'm not fond of) this is a cooling one. I will admit that I spent the better part of Saturday just rubbing this stuff on my clit and pussy while I went about doing my everyday chores. As soon as it would wear off, I'd dab on some more. It's listed as an "arousal stimulator" and I can say that I certainly was more aroused than even usual (which is really saying something). When P. dropped by to see my new toys and help me try them out, we were both amazed at just how much I came afterwards. I wasn't wet, I was sopping. So, if you can get some of this, do.

Not much else to report at this point. I've been playing with both of my purchases all weekend long, and as soon as money permits, intend to contact the saleslady and order a few more things. I promise to divulge any new and exciting exploits involving these new things...and you know, I always deliver.