Sex Fairy


I’ve been trimming, shaving, and even waxing for years. Sometimes I would leave a little landing strip, or a trimmed-up triangle, or even the lovely smooth bald Brazilian, depending on my mood and/or my lover’s preference. I kept it trimmed pretty closely even when I wasn’t seeing anyone. I know it’s the style these days to go porn-star-bare, but I think there’s a trend (micro-trend, maybe) of women growing their hair back lately.

Whitman was getting into the butter-smooth Brazilian for a while, so I’ve kept my pussy waxed for most of the past couple of years. I do love the soft after-effect of a Brazilian wax, but lately  I’m starting to think pubic hair is sexy again.

It started when Whitman and I had some time apart. I thought, “Oh, what the hell, it’s winter, let it go and see what happens.” At first the growth was sparse, but as time went on, it blossomed into a full 70’s bush! FUN!
I loved the soft and springy feel of  hair under my fingertips. Parting the hair to reach my clit with my fingers, I realized that my whole pussy was more sensitive from being hidden all day long.

I DID trim it up (a little) before finally seeing him, and then after the initial unveiling, he trimmed it himself with scissors. (That was sexy and scary all at the same time, but that’s ANOTHER post!) I’ve now trimmed it back pretty close and keep my lady lips shaved smooth when I know Whitman and I will be having playtime. I’ll probably go back to bare again eventually or occasionally, but for right now, I think this looks pretty hot…

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charlie sheenSeriously. I am. Whitman has noted that it seems I’m obsessed with getting my next ‘fix’ of the Charlie Sheen meltdown. He’s right.  I am. I am one hundred percent fascinated. I feel sort of bad about it – I mean, the guy is OBVIOUSLY having a manic episode IF he’s not on mass amounts of cocaine.
(Maybe both – my God, what a combo THAT must be!)
I just can’t stop watching/reading/smiling about it, though. Schadenfreude? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I can just relate.

Something about the complete and utter ‘fuck you’-ness of his statements makes me grin like a nutjob myself.

I mean, really…who hasn’t wanted to (figuratively, or literally) flip the whole world a bird and scream,

I know I HAVE.

Actually, wait. I HAVE done this.
I had my own similar meltdown, years ago. Excessive drinking, cocaine, sex with people known and unknown, (singles, doubles, WHOEVER). Someone I barely know told me a few years after my “episode” that I had sex with an NFL player (AND his friend) in the attic storeroom of the local dive bar.  REALLY?! Amazing. I had a brush with fame, and had no. idea. whatsoever.
I was doing what and who I wanted when and where it counted most (which was whenever and wherever I wanted). This was totally unhealthy, OBVIOUSLY, and I wouldn’t want to relive it, but it sure seemed fun at the time.

“A drug called Charlie Sheen”? FUCK Yeah, I can totally relate.


I saw this post on Vanilla Edge, which was inspired by a big discussion surrounding this photo on Reddit about gender identity and sexuality. According to Vanilla Edge, most of the respondents to the Reddit question  were straight males, and most picked “B”. I’m not surprised. I’m a girl. I like guys, and I’m pretty into tattoos, but I don’t find Buck attractive. I chose “B” also.

This question also inspired quite a discussion here at the Naughty Spot, as well. I sent the link to Whitman, who, as I suspected he would, answered “B” like the majority of straight guys.

I asked him, “So, does that make you bisexual?” His answer, “No. I like women.” He then proceeded to tell me how hot the ‘chick with a dick’ was, and even sent me a link to an image search of many VERY HOT pictures of her. I pressed onward. “But that’s a MAN. A ‘dude with boobs,’ call it what it is.”
I insisted that if he would fuck a man in the ass or let a man fuck him in the ass, that he MUST BE BI. “In my mind that’s a hot woman with an extra part,” he explained. I don’t REALLY think he is bisexual and don’t care either way, but the discussion was GREAT! It made the afternoon at work bearable.
(Note: I understand and appreciate all the nuances of sexuality, gender identity and fluidity, but was going with straight-up BIOLOGY for the discussion at hand. Everyone calm down.)

Whitman then posed a question back to me: “Who would you rather see me fucking?” I glanced quickly at the photos. Well that was without question the ‘chick with a dick’ and I told him so –Then Whitman said, “So, we’d share. Good.”  I suddenly had the realization that I was getting REALLY. TURNED. ON.

Then I looked at the picture again. Closely. That guy/girl has a REALLY. NICE. DICK.
THEN I remembered this was a ‘pre-operative’ transsexual. “Pre-OPERATIVE” being the key word.
I thought, “Ohmygod, is s/he going to REMOVE / REPLACE / INVERT that really gorgeous cock?! WHAT A WASTE!!!”



I had a Happy Meal from McDonald’s for dinner last night. (Don’t laugh!)
Imagine my surprise when I opened the box and got a peek at the toy…



The packaging described her something like this:
“Taylor is the Shoe Fairy, because shoes are her favorite accessory.”
“Susie is the Purse Fairy, because purses are her favorite accessory.”
“Which fairy are you? What’s YOUR favorite accessory?”
I just noted the other day how much I adore BEING the sexcessory!
Which fairy am I??

I guess the word is out…


My teenaged kids have a running joke about things I like. It goes like this: “Mom gets off on sparkly things, cute packaging, Jimmy John’s subs, high heels…” You get the idea. They just add things on as I express excitement about, admiration for, or the desire to own something. It’s an ever-growing and completely random list. They think they’re funny. Sometimes they are.

Every time I hear this joke, I think “OMG, they have no idea!!” What mom GETS OFF ON are things like…well yes, high heels, but even  more so when they’re pushed back over my head; I so get off on having my ass spanked. HARD. I’m into sex blogging & sex toy reviewing, looking at naughty Tumblr porn, and sometimes watching really, REALLY DIRTY hardcore porn…like girls-choking-on-cocks porn. I especially like this porn while I’m on my knees sucking/choking on Whitman’s cock (so in THAT case, HE’S watching really dirty hardcore porn. I’m just an accessory). I love being on my knees, and I love being an accessory, actually – just used as a sex object, a fucktoy, a hole or two (or three…).

I get off on him choking me, slapping me, sitting on my chest with his back to  me and forcing me to orgasm repeatedly with the Hitachi and a crazy attachment, or torturing my nipples. The list goes on and on…

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Seriously. They have NO. IDEA.


I was at the gym today, doing girlie gym-things like cruising on the elliptical machine while listening to Eminem, when even over the music in my headphones I heard what sounded like a woman GIVING BIRTH. I looked in the mirror, and sure enough I could see the woman behind me working with a trainer. She was just GRUNTING and GROANING, and MOANING. She REALLY sounded like she was birthing. This was (not surprisingly) the same woman who I’d heard a few minutes earlier loudly whining and begging while running on the treadmill. (THAT incident made me want to laugh out loud, by the way…)

“Is she serious?” I thought. Why would someone do something so personal (or something that SOUNDS so personal) in public? I started thinking about the things I’d rather do in private that involve grunting, groaning and moaning, as well as whining and begging:

  1. Birth. Private.
  2. Embarrassing-noise-inducing exercise (girlie exercise doesn’t count. See above.)
    Definitely not in public.
  3. Sex. Sex noises. Embarrassing sex noises. I like to keep them to myself.

Public sex? Not me. Maybe this is part of the reason that (even though I REALLY DO live to please sexually) I’ve never really been that into group sex…because other people ARE THERE, watching and listening. I want to give myself over to the moment with complete abandon and not worry about who’s watching or who’s listening. My focus is on ONE PERSON. For the same reason, I’ve also never really thought the idea of sex at a swingers’ club would be that fun. I know Whitman wants to try it…he wants to try EVERYTHING, and I’m game to try EVERYTHING with him. Hmmmm…

I guess when the time comes, I’ll just have to BE in progress


So, “What’s up with this “naughty spot,” you ask?

If you have kids or were a kid, you surely know about ‘the naughty spot,’ or ‘the time out chair,’ or ‘the naughty step,’ or whatever you call it. (Whatever happened to the classic: “GO TO YOUR ROOM!?”)
Maybe you DON’T know about ‘time out’ – maybe your parents BEAT you. Hopefully not. Anyway, THIS blog is like THAT spot.TimeOutChairPic

It’s the naughty spot for a couple of naughty bloggers. We have SUCH a naughty, delicious, sexy, and juicy story to tell, and were doing a pretty nice job of telling it, I thought…but things sort of got derailed. And now, after all the drama-dust has settled, here we are, in the blogger equivalent of the time out spot, even though I’d REALLY prefer a good spanking.


… I want to masturbate while you watch.


We were snuggled up in my bed, on the verge of sleep. It had been a long and exciting weekend of traveling, eating, drinking, and sexy sex, and we were totally exhausted, physically, emotionally, and sexually. Finally, we were comfy and relaxed in the dark after a bottle of wine. I was on my back, and he was on his side, with his arm across my chest. “I sort of feel like masturbating,” I said. “Mmmmm, go ahead if you want, I don’t mind,” he mumbled through sleepy eyes and lips.  I was gently touching myself with two fingers, just enjoying the feel of skin-on-skin. After hours of car travel wearing blue jeans, the touch of my fingertips on my lips felt like the sweetest caress ever. His breathing grew heavy near my ear, but not from desire. It was heavy with sleep. He was almost snoring, but not quite, and somehow the sound made me INCREDIBLY HOT!

Within a few seconds, I was feeling the need…the need to cum, not just to tease my lips. As I started rubbing my clit faster and harder, his breathing was heavy, but as I got close to climax, he stirred. He DIDN’T WAKE, but his breathing became more regular, and his hand that was gently resting on my far shoulder began to move, ever so slightly. His hand moved to my throat.  He squeezed my whole neck slightly, then adjusted his hand to get a better grip on my trachea. I could still breathe, but DEFINITELY knew there was a grip on my airway. I came, breathing heavily, shuddering, whimpering, spasming. His hand relaxed. I wanted it again. I revved up the stroking again. And  once again, his hand clamped down on my neck. The fact that even in his sleep, he could reach out and control my breathing, that he could know what I needed even then…??
How could he??!! It didn’t matter, it made me cum even harder.
How could he?? Because I’m his.


I swear today was National “Get In An Argument” day. I argued with everyone I know, and everyone I know argued with someone else. What the hell?

I’d rather be fucking.

A personal blog, by a sexy and very sexual couple. We share our sexual adventures and desires with each other, couples, threesomes, daddy play, group sex, swapping and swinging, our ever increasing collection of sex toys, vibrators, masturbators, bondage toys, lingerie, dildos, oils and sex lubes, and sexy photos, mostly of naked women that we find hot. We hope you do too.