poetry “~ Well-Read ~”



Patiently waiting

Can you hear me say?

“Touch me”

“Read me”

“Let’s get lost for the day”


A story for you

my literary lover

You’ll enter my soul

as you reach for the cover


Your fingers go dancing

Stroke along my spine

“Tell me,” you say


“Say you are mine”


I’m yours to read

‘Your’ pages to trace

Together we’ll travel

and escape this place


A life out of focus

where reality is a blur

Sighs from your lips

as you taste each word


By the end of the night

I will share in your bed

You ‘never’ disappoint

You keep me well-read


NEWS FLASH ~ Guys Like Blowjobs ~ Who Knew?


Can you believe it? Guys, men, and people with a penis, they all like getting their dicks sucked. I shit you not. Really. The first time I heard this I was shocked, SHOCKED!

Say it isn’t so. Dicks in mouths….WHAT?

You are a guy…..with a dick….and you want it sucked? No Fucking Way?


So stop hinting, asking, and making comments about wanting it sucked. Do you really think that this is news? Some big secret? That everyone is an idiot and can’t figure this out on their own?


Trust me. Your girlfriend, wife, boyfriend, partner, all know that you want your dick sucked. If we want to suck it, we will.

No need for a reminder or hint. If your dick isn’t being sucked, it’s not because your partner doesn’t know you like it. It’s because they don’t feel like sucking it.

I know that has to be hard to swallow.  It does sucks.  These jokes really blow.  Moving on……

Just so you know, we would never have to stop and think:

”Hmmmm…I wonder if he would like his dick sucked?”

“I want to suck it, but what if he’s not in the mood?”

“He only mentioned it 20 times today, so he must not be that serious about me sucking it.”


Our thoughts are more like:

"Did he shower?"

“Did he shower?”

“What about me? Hello…I have needs too.”

“That thing was in my vagina earlier today, I’m not putting it in my mouth now.”

If your partner does decide to suck your dick due to your relentless, less than subtle hints, they might be thinking:

“Are you almost done, I’m fucking drooling all over the place?”

“If I stop to catch my breath, you’ll get distracted and it will be like starting from the beginning.”

“This is mostly for you, so just cum already.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been 5 minutes, feels like an hour.”

“I’m not going to swallow, so you better warn me.”

”Maybe if I moan more, that will speed things along.”

“Can’t you hear me gagging? WTF!”

“Where is the towel?”

“I’ll just rub your balls and that should do it.”

“Sooo…are you going to pull this out and jerk off on me, or should I grab it?”

“I’m not touching your ass!”


I could go on an on.

Please consider all of this before you repeatedly inform your obviously ignorant partner that you enjoy having your dick sucked.

My husband never asks me to go down on him. You know why? Because he knows, that I know, that I can suck his dick whenever I want to and he would be good with it. Surprise, surprise!

When I suck dick, it’s because I want to, because I’m into it, and because I want to make him come undone. That is a turn on!

But ask and you shall not receive. When it’s done out of obligation it will not be as good for you.

When your partner willingly gets down on their knees, the thoughts are more like these:


“I love it when he looks at me like that.”

“I’m going to make him finish.”

“You can cum anywhere you want.”

“I’m awesome.” (that’s what I think anyway. LOL)

To quote Forrest Gump – “That’s all I have to say about that.”

Off to go suck dick, because I’m awesome. Maybe. I don’t know, it’s late. There is always tomorrow, or the day after. Meh… I’m selfish, sooooo… some other time. I’ll just wait for my husband to ask.

“Type hard! Like you mean it.”

“The Dragon’s Loyalty Award” They Love Me. They Really Love Me!!

"The Dragon's Loyalty Award"

“The Dragon’s Loyalty Award”

Someone gave me an award.   That’s just crazy, what the hell did I do to deserve any kind of an award? I mean…..other than being awesome! And they just don’t make awards big enough for that yet. Nonetheless I was honored to see that an award was given to me when I logged into my blog. Thank you so much to Liam over at Queer and Confused in Cape Town for giving it to me, giving it to me good 😉 . I mean giving me the award of course. The Dragon’s Loyalty Award. You people need to get your mind out of the gutter.

After doing some research on this award, I realized that Liam gave me…..WORK! That’s right- work. WTF? Like I don’t have enough stuff to do, I have four kids and it takes hours to look this hot! Hehehe– I’m only joking, sorta. It doesn’t take hours to look this good, it’s no effort at all. I so wish that were true. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes…an award…….

I truly am honored Liam, really, really, really honored. I am very grateful to be part of the blogging community and to be welcomed by fellow bloggers. My site is still fairly new, so it’s nice to be recognized. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So this award has some guidelines.

I love watching Game of Thrones. That is the only reason this photo is here.

I love watching Game of Thrones. That is the only reason this photo is here.

A. I have to mention the award, which I just did. Work!

B. Give thanks and acknowledge the wonderful soul that nominated me. Did that too. Small price to pay, but still work!

C. I have to come up with seven interesting facts about myself. Holy shit! Seven? That’s fucking work!

D. I need to mention 10 other bloggers that I think should get this award. Hopefully they see this as me offering praise, and not look at this as a homework assignment but rather an opportunity to share some insight about themselves. Make other people work!

This is starting to sound more and more like a chain letter, but I’m not going to be the one that breaks it. I have enough bad luck!

So here we go, 7 things about me that may or may not be that interesting. I keep the really juicy stuff to myself 😉 . Who am I kidding, I’m not that interesting and I really have no juicy stuff. Haha “juicy stuff.” Yes- I’m 12 at times. *hangs head in shame*

1. I have an obsession with stiletto boots, I want them all!!! I run after kids all day and they are not that practical to wear as much as I would like, but I love them. I own more than I will ever get around to wearing. When I am able to put a pair on, I own those bitches!

2. My mother actually knows every single one of my secrets, all of them. She knows about those times I did drugs, those times I had sex, that time I rode a donkey bareback wearing only a bikini while pinching my nipples and singing ‘I touch myself by Divinyls’—Oh wait- that was just a dream, but she knows about that too. I can go to her for everything and anything. My husband also knows everything about me, and the stuff he doesn’t know is just because I don’t remember, but I keep no secrets from him either. Like that time I peed the bed as an adult because I was dreaming about writing my name in the snow. I might have kept that a secret if he wasn’t there when it happened.  There might be a few lies in here, maybe.

3. I have 5 tattoos and pretty much hate them all. This is what happens when you get tattoo’d between the ages of 16 and 17. I’m sure that if I had waited until I was 18…..I would have made the same dumb decisions. I do love tattoos, I just wish that the tattoos I have, had more meaning and better artwork. Let the judging begin/continue……..I have a parrot the size of my hand on my back shoulder. I have a unicorn head (yes, a unicorn- ugh) on my other back shoulder; the horn is crooked and my kids make fun of it because it looks like it ran into a wall. I have a large pixie/nymph with butterfly wings on my hip. Yes, you heard right, a nymph. I was fucking cool way back when and wanted people to think I was easy (I was). There is a small flower on my ankle and I have Minnie Mouse on my other ankle. Oh my goodness! Even I want to laugh at myself for the stupid things I have permanently etched on my body. All of my tattoos are very old and faded. One time I was getting a massage, and the masseuse asked me if I was in the process of having them removed because they were so faded. I might have cried a little. I am currently researching new ideas for a cover-up tattoo to cover my back shoulders. This is what I want for my 40th birthday next September.

4. I have a huge issue with people that drink and drive. This is probably the only topic that I will ever pull my soap box out for, not politics, not religion, but drinking and driving. I’ve been like this since I was a teen. I’ve just never had tolerance for people who can’t at least be responsible when they drink. So, ya…. I was the life of the party as I’m sure you can imagine. So don’t drink and drive assholes!!!

5. I’m not interesting, so this post will head downhill fast. I am a homebody. I have no desire to travel the world or even down the street for that matter. I am comfortable doing nothing for the most part. However, I do my hair and makeup every single day, even if I have no intentions of leaving the house. I do this because I am vain and always want to look decent, I need hair and makeup to pull that off.

6. I hate confrontations or debating anything. My opinion is easily swayed. I feel that if someone doesn’t agree with me, then I am probably wrong. I just assume everyone is smarter and knows more than I do. Sometimes I’m wrong, according to everyone else. See?

7. I met my husband while online dating. He is the only person that I actually met in person from that experience and it seemed to have turned out pretty good. When I met him, I almost broke things off because he didn’t want any more kids. I stuck around because he kept telling me that I was out of his league. That and, he’s an amazing person. Sucker!!! We had two kids just recently (19 months and 6 months old), so now we have four total. His plan failed!

Bonus: Interesting fact number 8, you will never get this time back. How sad is that? Might as well keep reading though, it’s almost done and you are in too deep to stop now (that’s what she said).

I am sooooooo fucking boring. I mean that in every sense of the word. I guess that’s not interesting or even a surprise. This post has made me realize that I need to do more stuff. Maybe more butt stuff? just a thought.

So here are the 10 blogs I would like to give it to. I follow all these blogs, they follow me too. Not sure if this award can go to people that don’t follow me, but I say fuck the people that don’t follow, mostly because they will never see this! But hey! If you are reading this, then just hit the follow button and you can read all my other useless crap too. Please……..I need friends and I’m actually down on my knees….. begging…… my husband to remove his penis from my mouth so that I can type this for you. That’s how much I want you to follow me.

Here are the 10 blogs. I’m sorry if I didn’t include you. But just think of the time I saved you from having to type one of these up. You’re welcome!!

The Office Inbetweener:   Downright funny! And for the right price (according to him) he will suck dick, so bonus points for that!

The Big Dick Chronicles:   Don’t be fooled by the name, there are no photos of big dicks, I looked. But don’t let that stop you from visiting them. Relatable stories, good advice and all done with a comedic down to earth flair.

The Things I See Up Here:   Another funny man. Interesting day to day stories, and I read that he likes boobs, so that’s cool.

John Coyote:   Beautiful poetry based on his real life experiences. From the heart and soul, worth a read.

Fat Bottom Girl Said What:   Another funny blog with randomness, poetry and stuff to read.

Kastiyo’s:   She brings attention to human interest stories and news that you may not have heard otherwise.

FunLoveGoodSex:   Advice and tips about sex and relationships. Content provided by bloggers, so you get a fresh perspective each time.

The Howling Fantogs:   A guy writing about his day to day life and everything that comes with it. Friends, life, music and being gay. I love gay guys, I think because I can never be one and that fascinates me. Just one of the reasons I guess. lol

Expat Eye on Latvia:   Humorous and interesting observations on Latvia living.

AwakeningPsyche:   Beautiful poetry filled with heart and soul.

So there you have it. My WORK is done! Show some love to the blogs I’ve mentioned if you don’t already.

I like reading just about anything and everything. I am fascinated by how other people live day to day. The voyeur in me loves to read about other peoples lifestyles, especially their sex lives. The topic can be so off limits or taboo in the “real world.” I am very grateful that blogging can offer anonymity to people who would not open up otherwise.

Thank you all for sharing your stories and thank you again to Liam for the award.

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”

What happened to my husband’s balls?


My husband was neutered today.  I did feel bad, but I went out of my way to make emasculating jokes every chance I got.  Luckily my husband has a great sense of humor and we were both able to laugh about the entire procedure, making the best of an uncomfortable situation.

Here he is in the waiting room.  He looks happy now, sort of.  But soon he will no longer have the urge to hump my leg, and that will be sad.





I was really hoping to have had a mason jar with a couple of balls waiting for him when he came out into the waiting room, but just didn’t have the time, maybe for Christmas.  I wasn’t really sure of what to get someone after their balls are removed, is there a gift list for something like this? a subscription to Cosmo maybe, a chick flick, jewelry, a vibrator?  I don’t know, but I am disappointed he wasn’t sent home with a cone to prevent him from licking and scratching down below.


I suppose now that he is practically a woman I will be expected to compliment him more, notice his new haircut, and tell him he looks pretty.  The change started as soon as we left the doctors too.  I had to not only get the car door for him, but drive him home as well.  I did tell him that when we got home I was going to sit him on the couch and put in ‘The Notebook’, feed him some chocolate, and maybe let him borrow my pink snuggie.  He didn’t argue, just humored me.


Here is a glimpse into some of the remarks and conversation we had at his expense.


Me: “When I run into Rite Aid to get your prescription, do you want me to pick up pads or tampons for you?”


Batman: ——


Me: “Is it numb?”


Batman: “Yes.”


Me: “Can I flick it?”


Batman: “No!”


Me: “Why not? it’s numb.”


Batman: “Stay away from me.”


Me: “Just once, let me flick it, or pinch it.”


Batman: “No! Get away.”


Me: “Whatever. Can you get hard?”


Batman: “Probably, but I don’t want to.”


(Invitation- Muhahahahaha)


Me: “So if we talk about me with another woman, would that get you hard?”


Batman: “You’re a bitch.”


Me: “I told you I would let another woman go down on me, does that turn you on. I would suck a boob and lick a nipple.”


Batman: “Knock it off!”


Me: “Haha- are you getting hard?”


Batman: “Yes.”


(Laughing like an evil bitch)


Me: “Well, I would let you watch. Maybe participate.  I would have no problem making out with another woman, feel her tongue in my mouth, lick her lips. I bet that would be fun.  Are you getting harder?”


Batman: “I hate you.”


Me: “Hahahaha! Let me touch it.”


Batman: “No!”


So that was just the ride home.  Once we got home I asked him if his breast were tender, or if they were leaking.  Then I went on to ask him if he was sitting when he went pee.  I proceeded to call him lady for the rest of the night.


I know my husband is in pain and I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have someone slice into my balls, but I don’t have to- I gave birth to three kids and those fuckers hurt coming out.  So as much as I feel bad, I love to laugh and have a good time with my husband more.  I am happy that in a few weeks, or 25 ejaculations according to the doctor, we can go at it like bunnies, with no concerns of making any more cock-blockers (babies).


All kidding aside, my husband is ‘The Man’, I love him even more for getting this done, and for putting up with my taunting all day.  Once he feels better I will take him dress shopping then out for brunch where we will celebrate his feminine side while sipping mimosas.


After that, I will bring him home and kiss his balls to ease the pain.  See?  I’m a good wife!


“Type hard!  Like you mean it!”

A Subject Close to My Heart…..Boobs!


Boobs, boobs, boobs!

I love boobs.  My boobs, other woman’s boobs, real boobs, fake boobs, man boobs (okay, not man boobs, I don’t hate them, but I don’t love them either – I’m indifferent).   I have no problem making this claim of love, and I am a heterosexual woman.  Boobs are beautiful, fun, and they bounce.  I love things that bounce…like balls…I love balls too!!

I can see why guys are obsessed with boobs though.  I touch mine all day long, and not for any kind of sexual gratification, but just because I fucking can.  I imagine that if I had a dick I would touch that all day too though.  Anyway…back to boobs, not to be confused with back boobs, those are not sexy.

So I realized that in at least 15 conversations over the years, including one just last week, I’ve said, “I know five women with fake boobs”, and this got me thinking.

Why do I say that? Just about everyone I know, knows that my boobs are….wait for it…..fake.  Ahhh, confessional– that felt good to get off my chest (see what I did there? Ya, it was lame).  I do know 4 other women with fake boobs too.

My family knows they are fake, the people I work with know, my in-laws don’t know, but I don’t keep it a secret.   I just haven’t found the right time to say, “hey, my tits are as fake as you pretending to like me.”  My kids don’t know either, but if they asked I would tell them.  One day they will know.

Anyway, after giving it some thought, I realize why I say, “I know woman with fake boobs” instead of saying, “I have fake boobs”.  It’s so that I don’t feel like I have I justify why I got mine.  People can be judgy, so I just talk about the other women I know that have them instead.

I would like to share why I have fake boobs, and no, my real ones didn’t try to kill me (not with cancer anyway…..just by fucking with me mentally).

First, I would like to take a moment to celebrate (by clapping alone in my living room), my boobs are ten years old as of this past August.  I’ve nurtured them, loved them, hugged them and raised them to be the gorgeous girls they are today. Yippee, pretty boobs!!

It all started when I was four…. no, that’s a crock of shit.  As soon as I noticed my boobs weren’t coming in,  I wanted them, so maybe since I was 13 or so.  Yes, I do have some self-esteem issues, but that is not the reason I wanted to have boobs.  Boobs, to me anyway, are feminine and sexy, and make you feel beautiful.  Yes, I was beautiful with out them, blah, blah, blah.  But I feel like a fucking sex goddess with them.   When I put an outfit on, my boobs are the accessories that completes the look.  I can wear tight shirts,  low-cut shirts, or clingy dresses and actually fill them out now. Plus, I’m always flashing my husband, which is great for my marriage.  My boobs have given me the confidence that I didn’t have before.  I’ve always had a good sex drive, but the boobs gave me that boost I needed to be a little less inhibited, and instead of covering my chest, I’m like “look at these, motherfucker!”

I am lucky enough to have a small frame, my boobs give me the figure I had always wanted, but I struggle to maintain my weight and I have to work at it.  I am not naturally “skinny”, and sadly, I can’t eat whatever the fuck I want without gaining weight.

When I was married to my previous husband, I got down to about 97 lbs  (way too skinny for me by the way).  I did it the healthy way, but I looked anorexic.  Anyway, at 97 lbs, with no boobs and a pixie haircut.  I looked like a 12 year old boy, or a 19 year old butch lesbian, neither was flattering (to me anyway).  During that phase,  I got pregnant with my my now 11 year old daughter.  When I was pregnant, I grew boobs, it was pretty cool, but I also gained a ton of weight. I just looked like a fat person with fat tits.  Like a lot of new moms, I decided to breastfeed.  Do you know what breastfeeding does to boobs? It is not pretty!!!!   By the time I was done having the life sucked out of me, I looked like I stepped from the pages of National Geographic, and I only breastfed for 6 weeks.  My already smaller than A (yes, smaller than A) boobs, were now flabby and small. That didn’t make sense to me, I just had saggy skin that I referred to as my boobs, talk about not feeling sexy or like a woman.

I told myself at that time, “I’m done waiting, I’m getting a boob job.”  I knew that in order to justify the boobs, I needed to lose the baby weight, otherwise I still wouldn’t be happy with what I saw in the mirror.  I needed to like all of me first.  When my daughter was 10 months old, I had lost my baby weight and got to a healthy 110 lbs (did I say I got up to 187 lbs when I was pregnant–ouch! another confession).  All that was missing up to that point, was boobs.

I love the way fake boobs look by the way, and that’s what I wanted– boobs that looked fake, high, perky, round, and gorgeous from the side, top, bottom and every angle.  I didn’t go into this looking for realistic or natural boobs.  I wanted the fake, Playboy, pretty boobs, and that’s what I got.  My then, negative A’s, are now round perky modest D’s, and I fucking love them.

Not a day goes by without me loving my boobs.  My implants are saline, placed behind the muscle, and they were inserted underneath my breast.  So yes, there is a small scar, but IDGAF (I don’t give a fuck), because I got them for me, and me alone.  At the time, the cost was $5200.00 where I live, $2600.00 each, and I would pay that again and again to feel the way I feel having them.  It was an investment, an investment in me, and I’m worth it.  It can be hard to remember that once you become a parent, to do things for yourself.  It did come with guilt, there were a lot of things that money could have gone towards, but I became a happier person, and that made me a better mother.

Fake boobs are not for everyone, I get that.  You might love your small boobs and that’s great…for you.  If you want to belong to the itty-bitty-titty-commitee then go for it, it’s not for me.  People need to be happy with themselves, and if that means getting fake boobs, then get boobs, if that means new clothes, then get those. Improve your education or wear makeup, a nose job, whatever it is that makes you feel good, do it!  Invest in yourself, but please don’t be quick to judge me.

I’m a mother that loves my kids.

I’m a wife that loves my husband.

I’m a woman with a nice rack!  and by “nice”, I mean perfect for me.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, there are so many other reasons too”

I’ve had two more kids since my boob job, one is 19 months old, the other is 6 months old.  My boobs looked “blah” during my pregnancies and shortly after, but I’m happy to say they’ve bounced back and my figure has too.

Just for the record, if I ever have to have my breast removed due to cancer, I would do it of course.  I would cry like a baby, but my life is more important than my boobies.

I believe that women with small boobs or no boobs are just as sexy.  Sexy is an attitude, the way you feel, the way you present yourself is what makes “sexy” a thing.  What is sexy to me,  may not be what is sexy to you, and that’s o-fucking-k.

I just believe, “if you look good, you feel good, and if you feel good, you do good.”   Yes, I am shallow at times,  I’m okay with that.  I’m almost 40 years old and I accept who I am.

My boobs make me feel good, physically and emotionally.

Go Boobs!!!


“Type hard!  Like you mean it!”

Me? Write a Guest Post?

Who me

While I have always enjoyed writing, I’ve never considered myself a writer, and I still don’t.  The world of blogging is new to me, not like I just learned what the hell blogging is, but having my own blog has been a new experience.  So I was surprised when I received an invitation to write a guest post over at www.funlovegoodsex.com.   While I was flattered, I was also left wondering if I would disappoint with what I have to offer in terms of advice.  Half the time I walk around clueless about everything, just acting like I know what the fuck I’m talking about.  However, once I started typing, I dove in and really enjoyed the process of writing with purpose.  It was nice to have a prompt and a reason to type. There are many days when my mind runs busy with ideas, but by the time I sit to get them out, they have either passed or just aren’t relevant anymore.

I had my husband read the article I wrote to get his advice on the content, and even though he thought it was good advice, he didn’t think I came across as being funny like I usually am.  So I left his ass…..but only for a few minutes to go to the store, I came back, but only for sex.  What can I say?….. I’m weak, and it’s really good sex.

So if you would like my “not real funny” opinion on “How to Get Your Wife to Want Sex With You”, or if you just want to see what I wrote, then show some love over at www.funlovegoodsex.com and read my post.  The site has some interesting advice on various topics.  I even learned what the term “pegging” means, which is not what I thought it meant.  Feeling inspired to share my opinions on the subject though, so stay tuned.


“Type hard!  Like you mean it!”