Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Sex, Laid Out Right There For Everyone To See

I'm digging the debauchery of this one
Hey loveys. Starting, eh, maybe today or tomorrow, I'm gonna to be re-running some of my favorite Real Sex Stories (nee True Wife's Tales.) If you refer to your notes, you'll recall that these are reader-told stories about what really happens in their sex lives. It's not designed to get you off, particularly, but just to share the huge-ass variety of what can and does encompass a sex life, or lack thereof. The truth is Good, I say, and being brave and telling it really does set us free. 

Having written highly person stuff myself, I can say that it is extremely fucking cathartic to get that $%$# written down and out of you. So if you feel called to do so, rip your own sensitive little heart out and write your story down. Whatever it is. It's all just life and we can deal, yes? Send it to me at jillhamilton001@gmail.com, then go forth unfettered.

In the meantime, here's some stuff I've been writing elsewhere while simultaneously beating back one motherfucker of a dark depressive spell. I *think* I've tamped it down, and I'm cautiously stepping forth back into the world, blinking at how bright and lovely it all is.  Anyway, have a look if you'd like--and comment, tweet, like and/or share because that's how they judge how "good" they are:

--Why (Straight) Dudes Aren't  Using Sex Toys. Yet in AlterNet. (Featuring smart and thoughtful wanking commentary from some articulate sex-toy usin' IBWMW readers. Thanks!)

--I Tried Cosmo's Scrunchie-on-the-Penis Sex Tip for Cosmo.

For the latter, I'm not sure if I'm being a total whore because I am indeed having sex for money. Or that I have the best job ever because I am being paid for sex. In my mind, it really could go either way. If it's the whore thing, I'm gonna to upgrade myself to "courtesan," at least, and consider myself the elite expensive kind that only few may experience.

We'll see if that works.

xoxo
jill

PS Think if you want to write something!

(photo via Lady Cheeky, as is my custom)

3 comments:

Cagey-C said...

That Cosmo article is (unsurprisingly) hilarious, and I'm glad to have been quoted in the other article in a way that my mom won't stumble upon when she's google-stalking me.

More importantly, I'm glad that you're seeing the world as bright and lovely again. Depression sucks ass. (Unless you enjoy ass sucking, in which case please feel free to insert a metaphor that sounds unpleasant.)

Amy Harwood said...

As always, your literary nuggets of gold never fail to bring a smile to my face.

Regarding your re-entry to the light, I have a thought for you to ponder....when all us "gals" (as my dad liked to call us in the early 1980s) lived together in Bursley Hall, we all did what scientists often spoke about, synchronized our menses cycles to the same week of the month. (Now, I know you are impressed by my scientific jargon versus the layman's "all of a sudden we were all on the rag at the same time, now get the fuck out of our room!). Anyhoo, my question is this....do you think our mental-physical clocks are still in sync all these years later, 'cause I too have been spending waaaaay too much time in the land of heaviness and gloom. But thanks to an airline ticket out of Dodge, have hope things are about to turn a corner.

Hope we get to laugh together soon, I miss your sweet face! <3

in bed with married women said...

Cagey-C, thx as always. and i have not sucked ass, though it could very well be in my cosmo future. as least there, there will probably be whipped cream involved or something.

Amy, maybe. I spoke w/ another dear friend just last night and she had also been, unbeknownst to me, riding the weeping train as well. Toot toot! Hop aboard! It's the worst train ride ever!

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