My 3 Secret Sexual Desires

“If you knew that you were going to die in 24 hours, what three secret desires would you fulfill?” the email hit early—perhaps too early—Friday morning.

               
I smiled. 

I honestly never mind these types of questions because I am open enough about my world that it only invites people to join me on the trip.  It is also a part of why I am so surprised so often when people say that I am closed or I don’t share private parts of my life.  And, when I get these questions, it shows me that people are tuned in enough to ask.  Asking a question is often the hardest part—although hearing the answer can sometimes be quite painful too.

“Sexual or non-sexual,” I shot an email back.

Within seconds, “really…can you just answer the question for once?  You are the most difficult person I know!”

Another smile…I always strive to be the most difficult person anyone knows.  Makes me memorable!  However, in this case, it was not just me being more of me.  It was a matter of me being real.  If we are discussing sexual things I would do, then I believe I have covered that list.  If we are discussing non-sexual things I would do, then…well….ok….same answer really. 

But, the idea of three secret desires really strikes a chord with me.  What if….and I do realize that I am being difficult here…we forget the 24 hour part because anything I would do within the breath of 24 hours would be a wild impulse instead of a secret desire.  If you are confused by the difference, then consider these:

• #1 Secret Desire:  I would bottle sexual confidence and strong self-esteem.  Then, virtually mass mail a bottle to every woman in the world with my love.  In this manner, women would learn to love themselves as well as other women with a true sense of being in this together.
• #2 Secret Desire:  I would give both men and women a new communication structure that would allow them to speak the same—or at least a similar—language to share all of the sparkling, dazzling mind blowing experiences in life without the pain of misunderstanding.
• #3 Secret Desire:  I would give both women and men a comprehensive chip that allowed them to access information about sexual positions and techniques because they “think” that sexuality does not come with a users manual.  In reality—sexuality does come with an user’s manual, but most people are too uptight to ask a partner what makes them tick or discuss what they would like to try!  The user’s manual for your sexuality is intuitive.  Stop turning it off!!!

              

Now, these are my three secret desires for everyone reading this post……everyone you know…and everyone they know.  I have given them to you.  See how easily I satisfy my desires?

Is it that easy?  Of course!  Now, what you do with my gifts is your choice!

Take my hand…that fear last a moment, but the freedom lasts a lifetime!  ~~Dee

What’s Love Got to Do With It?

Before I start, I beg the women of the world not to throw objects at the screen.  I realize that what I am about to say sounds strange.  A word of caution for the men…this does NOT apply to all women and failure to heed that caveat might cause dismemberment.  And, I simply don’t know any men who are willing to part with their member!

However, I realized a very strange truth about myself in the past few days.  Before or after sex, I don’t want to cuddle at all.  I believe this is because I honestly always think of sex and love in separate ways.  Although they do overlap sometimes, they are not necessarily linked in my mind.

For me, sex is a natural release and expression of sexuality with yourself or another person.  It is very physical.   So, my passions and desires run deeply toward the physical as well.   It is about seeking the pleasure in sex and fulfilling a need.

Love, on the other hand, is deeper and more involved.  It involves the psychological and mental aspects of physical contact.  When I want to be hugged or held, it is not connected to the need to reinforce a sexual act.  It is because I need strength or support for my mind or my heart.

I feel that so often, because women are not shown the kind of love they want to experience with their clothes on, they use the time they spend with their clothes off to get that love.  Whether kind words or sweet strokes, I THINK that I would rather receive that affection in a non-sexual context because I trust it more. 

It beckons my mind to the way that some men tell a woman that they love her to get her into bed. 

Or the way women will withhold sexual favors (as if they are doing some great service to their partner) when they are angry or hurt.

At this stage of sexual development, I think that these games mixing the flavors of love and sex cloud the waters significantly between men and woman.  Most men are intuitively built to seek sex.  Most women are taught by society to require love.  So….one partner resorts to emotional blackmail to receive expressions of love and the other partner plays a strong game to achieve desired sexual participation.  Never is this more evident than the way women refer to intercourse as “making love” while men refer to the same act as “sex” (or many other terms! Creative little dears!  *smile*).  It seems to me, with some moderate adjustments, that both partners can meet in the middle ground of getting what they want out of a relationship—sexual or otherwise.  ~~Dee

Sexy Erotica: Not Now

“Not now,” your hand stops the long strokes of my hand playing along the inside of your thigh.  Even in the dark, your smile betrays the sexy authority in your voice.

“Now,” I whisper, turning in my seat to face you…slipping my fingers from your hand…my thumb massaging circles of pleasure against the head of your erection. 

“I want you,” increasing the pressure of each perfectly polished red nail against the hardness growing under my hand.

“There are…people…everywhere,” the words are thick with your breathing sending a pulse of pleasure crackling through the thick liquid pooling in the soft spot between my thighs.

“Now,” I murmur again, the thrill of wrapping my fingers around you throbbing in my mind as I slowly start to release each small buttons on my shirt…my nipples pleading for your attention…your eyes doing what your mouth wont dare.  Encouraging…tempting… as voices surround us from the darkness.

“We will be…late,” your voice trails off as the last button gives way to my naked breasts.  Kicking my high heeling off under the dash, I slowly pull the skirt up my thighs and reposition myself on my knees in the seat next to you…your eyes on mine…shimmering against the light from passing cars.

“Let me give you pleasure lover,” more of a command than a request, your upper arm nestled  into the warm skin between my exposed breasts causing chills of friction  as I lean forward to lightly kiss the inside of your neck.  “Please…” I whisper against your ear…my hand again caressing the thickness of your masculinity…rewarding me with a deep moan of desire as you open your legs to accept my touch.

Finish Reading “Sexy Erotica: Not Now!”

Sexy Erotica: Not Now!

“Not now,” your hand stops the long strokes of my hand playing along the inside of your thigh.  Even in the dark, your smile betrays the sexy authority in your voice.

“Now,” I whisper, turning in my seat to face you…slipping my fingers from your hand…my thumb massaging circles of pleasure against the head of your erection. 

“I want you,” increasing the pressure of each perfectly polished red nail against the hardness growing under my hand.

“There are…people…everywhere,” the words are thick with your breathing sending a pulse of pleasure crackling through the thick liquid pooling in the soft spot between my thighs.

“Now,” I murmur again, the thrill of wrapping my fingers around you throbbing in my mind as I slowly start to release each small buttons on my shirt…my nipples pleading for your attention…your eyes doing what your mouth wont dare.  Encouraging…tempting… as voices surround us from the darkness.

“We will be…late,” your voice trails off as the last button gives way to my naked breasts.  Kicking my high heeling off under the dash, I slowly pull the skirt up my thighs and reposition myself on my knees in the seat next to you…your eyes on mine…shimmering against the light from passing cars.

“Let me give you pleasure lover,” more of a command than a request, your upper arm nestled  into the warm skin between my exposed breasts causing chills of friction  as I lean forward to lightly kiss the inside of your neck.  “Please…” I whisper against your ear…my hand again caressing the thickness of your masculinity…rewarding me with a deep moan of desire as you open your legs to accept my touch.

Gently releasing the buckle of your belt in a slow, practiced move, the sound of your zipper thickens the anticipation vibrating in the moist air between us.  “I have been thinking of touching you all day,” my confession heavy with painful need as my hand wraps around your hard shaft. With your head back on the seat and eyes focused on mine, the voices from outside are filtering through in the distance hidden behind the tide of passion threatening your control.

“Do you want me to touch you?” I ask, wanting to hear the words as my fingers slide down to massage your balls tight and firm from the attention.

“I want…” you start, your fingers on my face following the path of the moonlight against my skin swimming in the first beads of sweat gliding between my breasts.

“Tell me how I can please you,” I breathe against your lips, my tongue lightly tracing the curve of your bottom lip…the intoxicating taste of you going to my head like a generous helping of a fine wine.

“Please me,” you repeat, your fingers finding my nipple aching to be sucked as my vision blurs with waves of desire tearing through my body painfully fighting for possession.
 
“Imagine….. My tongue playing lightly over the head of your dick… I take you into my mouth…sucking you until you begged me for release,” dizzy from the combination of power and vulnerability you inspire.

Your breathing stutters in the darkness revealing the depth of your imagination.

“Or…I could climb into your lap and ride you…me wrapped tight around you….you buried hard and deep between my thighs,” the words sound so loud against your silence.

“Make a wish lover…” I try again, pushing down the need clawing inside for release.  Your breathing stops sharply as my nails lightly trace the length of your cock and I take you between my fingers again… your hips rising instinctively to meet my hand with each easy stroke.

A sharp intake of breath slices through the laughter floating in the darkness as you shift in your seat to reach for you cell phone vibrating against your side.

“Not now,” my eyes meeting yours in the dark with an explosion of heat melting down my body and between my legs as your hand travels up my arm to pull me tight against you.

“Now,” you repeat my words to me as you fingers knot in my hair.  “I want it all,” your eyes focused on mine challenging me to sacrifice my control.

“All? Is it your birthday?” I tease, as your sexy smile promises me more.

“Well, yeah…it is my birthday and I want to open my presents…now,” your hand slips between my thighs to finger the soft pink skin agonizing for you.

“Happy Birthday Lover,” I smile enticingly, “now come and get your gifts.”

Cum Get Erotic with Me

Over the past few months, I have started to write some erotic stories.  Always a writer at heart, the creation of SexyWhispers brought out an erotic voice that I did not realize existed.  So, on several occasions, I have post erotic stories and musings as an exploration of this voice.  I have come to realize that, while I might not be very practiced at the art of writing literotica (especially when compared to some amazing women on the Erotica By You! page), in order for me to live true to my vision and ideas of sexual self acceptance, I have to embrace my erotic voice and let it grow.

It feels really liberating and free to finally accept this voice…start to express what I have visualized for so long.  It is a deep expression of the mental, physical, and psycho-sexual part s of my world.  With that in mind, I dedicate this page called SexyWhispers Erotica to providing myself with a place and space….just as I will for anyone else who wants to try their hand at expressing their erotic voice here on SexyWhispers.

When I post an erotic piece, I will post the introduction and put the rest with a link to SexyWhispers Erotica.  This serves as a warning in case reading erotica is not your thing because I am sexually explicit and I am not going to apologize for the state of your sex drive afterwards!!  *laughing*

I welcome all to join me on this sexual journey…

Take my hand…the fear last a moment, but the freedom lasts a lifetime!  ~~Dee

Humor Is Sexy: Passing the Margarita Test

I love a Margarita!  I guess that it is that old addage about Tequila making my clothes fall off that makes me love them, but almost everything does that! 

So, when a friend sent me this Margarita test this week, I knew that was for me. 

Oddly….it is true.  I guess I am a blueberry Margarita! 

Let me know your flavor!   Live, Laugh, Love…and share it with someone else!  ~~Dee

You Are a Blueberry Margarita

Honestly, there’s no one quite like you. And believe it or not, most people think that’s a bad thing! You’re open, wild, friendly, wacky, and tons of fun. You have a big personality… and a big heart.

What Flavor Margarita Are You?

Confession: Sex in the City

“I can’t wait!  It’s finally coming!”  Her face was completely flushed with excitement and I hoped she was saving some of that passion for the man sitting next to her.

“Why?” I asked, stopping the chatter around the table.  She smiled politely telling me that she was only humoring me.  It could not really be a question.  The chatter resumed. 

“Why?” I repeated again louder.  I knew I had been heard the first time, but I could not fathom why was not getting answer.  This time, when the group stopped talking, I became the center of none-too-polite focus.  You would have thought that I said one of their kids was ugly.  They swelled up as though I was attacking the very idea of womanhood and sexuality.

“Its a great show.  Sex in the City represents every type of sexual woman that exists and shows how they get along in one group.”  I blinked.  Wow…she could not really be serious, but to my total amazement, the women around the table were shaking their heads in agreement. 

Now, I have only been able to completely watch Sex in the City a hand full of times because I felt just the opposite.  The characters are merely cardboard, cleaned up representations of what real women experience sexually everyday.  I not only lacked the ability to identify with any of the four women…their relationships seemed equally as inane.  For example, consider:

• SITC Reality: One woman got knocked up out of wedlock.  Real World: Instead of getting married, she gets left to struggle with a job at Wal-Mart barely able to buy groceries for her and the baby. 
• SITC Reality: Woman is incredibly sexual (the bitch of the group of course!) and sleeps with every second guy in the room while going through his pockets for every dime she can find.  Real World:  That girl gets a STD or is found in a hotel room in a pool of blood.
• SITC Reality:  Girl chases big time guy and hooks him in the end.  Real World:  Married man….wealthy wife.  Where I am from, that cant be pretty in the end.

                

We will also totally skip the reality  of four women getting along in a group together and loving every little thing about each other so much that they can be completely honest with each other. 

Come on….do we really believe that these four girls represent the ideal or the reality of what sexual women should be?  What we are?  Give me Transformers or SG-1 anyday.  Least I understand those movies…and I am less likely to go to sleep in the middle.  ~~Dee

Visual Sex…I mean…Self…Expression

“Do I contradict myself?  Very well then I contradict myself,  I am large, I contain multitudes.”–Walt Whitman, “Song of Myself”

A few weeks back, Shay (of Janes Guide and The S Spot) asked about my use of the red and blue icons in my posts.  I never thought about it really except as an indicator to how I am feeling during that post.

You see…I am Gemini.  I am about everything Gemini represents including the ability and agility to swing from one mood into another mood at a moments notice.  PMS chics got nothing on me!  I go from crazy, giggly happy to serious, dont screw with me attitude without notice.  So, for me, the icons are a way for readers to gauge my moods and be warned. 

Generally speaking:

Red means spicy and sexual with passion.  Think edgy meets raw…that is a good place to start.  It can be something that makes me mad.  So, this can cover anything from hot erotica to pissed about politics.  It often denotes that my mind is highly invested and I want to shake the world into thinking about something in a bigger picture.  BUT, while swimming in my pool of dictonomy, it could also mean something hot and pleasurable with a deep sense of physicality to it.  These are things that engage me on an elemental level of being. 

Blue holds a deeper meaning for me.  It is the sensual side of my body and soul that mixes, often, with the playful side.  Although I tend to retain only enough of myself to be discrete, this is also where I suffer from the pains of sensitivity to my feelings for others and my misalignment with the world.  I write in this voice so often, I think, because it is closest to the nakedness I feel in the honest exposure of who I am.  So, here I can feels the in depth emotions ranging from sensuality to sadness.  As that is a large range, I tend to use this icon the most.

For me, this is an interesting idea because these are the truest make up of me–two sides combining to make one person–and perhaps the same can be said of every women.  From the sensual to the sexual and all the gambit of emotions and feelings in between, I am:

• aggressive and vunerable,
• bitchy and kind,
• critical and appreciative,
• intelligent and emotional,
• strong willed and painfully needy. 

                

And, I welcome all to my world of SexyWhispers!   ~~Dee

Family and Sex

Most people get a really icky feeling down deep when they think about their parents having sex.  Ok…confession…I get that feeling too.  Dont even want to mentally walk that road.  Even though I know they must have (cause here I am!), I, like others in the world, would need a brain wash to shake those visuals. 

However, I was lucky in several ways.

All of my childhood, I never remember a time when sex was a taboo subject.  We discussed Roe v. Wade at the dinner table.  We talked about the issues surrounding abortion and I was actually given a voice to discuss my understanding of sexual ownership at a very young age.  We discussed the importance of safe sex in protecting you and your partner. 

In a way, it made me older than I needed to  be, but in a more realistic way, it prepared me to take a certain type of responsiblity for myself as both a woman and a sexual being.  Both of my parents took part in our sexual understand of self and gender roles.  For example, I did not have to wash the dishes on a given week because that was “womens work.”  I had to wash the dishes because it was my chore for the week.  It was a simple expectation.

But in quite another way, it made life harder for me too.  Because I had experienced such voice and right to my own opinion, when I walked out into society, I quickly found out that those traits were not prized among my peers or society as a whole. 

See…no one in my family ever told me what not to say….they only ever asked me what I thought.  So, years later, out of this misfit family, we have two nudists (The Brother and Sunshine) and one Porn Queen (yours truly!) with a Marine (which my dad teases The Marine is almost like having a drug dealer in the family!  Dad is ex-Army).  We all consistently walk outside of the rhelm of what society calls normal.  Both The Brother and I  have long term, happy marriages with wonderfully close friends of the opposite sex.  Our spouses also maintain close relationships with members of the opposite sex.

My discussion with The Brother or Sunshine might, at any given time, turn to the topic of sex as easily as not, but none of us are uncomfortable.  In our own insanity, it sounds something like “did you know that blow jobs are being replaced by foot fetishes as the number one fetishes in the country?” 

“I dont see that happening,” The Brother responds and nudges The Marine with a grin.  “Can you pass those cornflakes?”

Nope….we are not at all normal.  But, as I think of it, normal is kind of over rated anyways!  Thank you to my mother who taught us to walk our own path by looking inward…even if we have to fight the world to be who we are because that is the person we would have to answer for in the end.  Peace and cookies!  ~~Dee