The Satisfyer- Toys in Review

I know I have a weird life. I like it that way and really, what is normal? But my life seems especially weird, surreal even, when people get in touch with me because of this blog. I like this blog, I've not been so active on here as of late, but this blog is my heart. And I get emails every so often from friends and readers. Once in a while sex toy companies want to know if I want free stuff! (Once in a while= twice—but whatever, who's keeping score?)

My first thought when someone sends me an email offering me free stuff is that it's a scam. I mean, really, who expects to be given anything for free? But after a little research and some deciphering I decided that the people at Satisfyer were not out to steal my identity (I mean, Casey McKay is a pen name, so really, you chose poorly to begin with). Anyway, they legitimately just wanted to send me three of their products so that I could review them.

It's not a bad gig. 

Except when they didn't leave the package at my door because it needed a signature and I was afraid I was going to have to go down to the pick up place and have to convince them that I was indeed Casey McKay. I was home when they came the second time so all was okay.

Delivered in a regular box, so my neighbors don't know what's up!

They sent me three versions of their Satisfyer: the Satisfyer Pro, the Satisfyer 2, and the Satisfyer Penguin. To be honest I've never seen a sex toy like this before. Anything I have ever tried was a vibrator or a bullet or some combination of both. If I'm being completely frank (and when am I not) any toy that requires vaginal penetration isn't really my bag. I get that a lot of women like that, but that isn't what gets me going and even the vibrators I have I don't use that way. I usually just end up using it like you would a bullet and give my clit all the attention. To say I was intrigued with these toys that focused all of their attention on this area would be an understatement.

At first glance, they made me a little nervous. I thought there might be some sort of suction or something, but no need to be alarmed, they aren't built to do anything like that. I unpacked them from their boxes and got them charging. The Satisfyer 2 takes two triple A batteries, but the Pro and the Penguin are rechargeable. I like that capability. It sucks to have to rob the TV remote of its batteries when the ones in my vibrator die. It's very handy that these come with their own usb chargers, I can swap out my phone and charge up the toy. Already winning me over with convenience.

Charging up life's essentials

Next up, actually giving them a whirl. I felt a little out of my element. How do I go about this? Do I need to line this thing up exactly with my clit? Should I be using a mirror? The pressure! Clearly, I was overthinking things. I pushed the little button and then placed the Penguin version (the smallest and least assuming) in the general area. Nothing was happening. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I moved it a few times and thought maybe it was me. But then—oh! Wait, don't move. Right there. Oh, shit. Yeah, that's the spot.

The website describes it as contact-free pleasure, but I don't really think that's the way to describe it. Female toys are either built to penetrate (like real life) or you have some rounded, vibrating thing. The Satisfyer sort of envelopes you. The best comparison I can make is someone going down on you. The reason why I don't think it's contact-free is because your clit is resting inside. It's definitely touching, it feels like every nerve is being pulsed. 

I tried all three of them but didn't notice any discernable difference besides maybe size/portability. All of them are waterproof and one seemed just as powerful as the next. I used them alone first and then we tried one out together. Sometimes you aren't that adventurous when you're using it yourself and you almost lull yourself to sleep. And then sometimes your partner takes it from zero to sixty in two seconds and you almost launch yourself off the bed. Okay, zero to 11, because they have 11 settings. 

The bottom line is, I really like this toy and they have moved into my regular rotation. I like that someone finally figured out a way to treat a clitoris. If you're looking for something a little different, you won't be disappointed!

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The McKay's Summer Vacation

A trend that has involuntarily occurred since the beginning of our marriage is that we've never gone on vacation. We've had "staycations" which normally involve fun things like organizing closets. We've had weekend getaways, which most of the time isn't worth the fuss of packing and traveling, you're right back home before you know it. And lately, the new thing is going on trips that are all derby related. I'm not complaining about that, I love that my husband loves the sport I'm obsessed with, but they aren't really vacations.

This summer, we promised to take a trip down south to visit my inlaw's new house. They built a house to retire in, even though they are still living up here for now. So their gorgeous house snugged up against a golf course has become their vacation home for the time being. 

We went for six days and it was delightful. I never realized how important it was to get away for a bit. It also made me realize that you can take Mr. McKay and I out of our element, but that doesn't change us in the least. 

We were walking through an antique store with my mother in law—only it wasn't really an antique store, it was new stuff made to look old that gets sold to rich people. Anyway, for whatever reason there were giant bird cages in there. Mr. McKay made some comment to the effect of, "Casey doesn't like these." Gesturing at the assortment of cages. I thought he was referencing my fear of birds.

His mother ambled away browsing around and he tugged me toward an oversized cage that was probably about four feet high.

"What kind of bird would you put in there?" I asked. I realized it was probably just for decorative purposes, but I was having a hard time even visualizing what one would do with a four-foot tall bird cage.

"You could fit in there," he said. Then leaned in closer. "I could lock you up, it'd be kinky."

I whipped my head around to check the proximity of his mother and then punched him in the arm. He never fails to be amused by my talk of BDSM likes and dislikes. I've read books where submissives are locked in cages, and I get that it is a thing people like. I just don't think I ever would want that in real life. I brought this up to Mr. McKay one day. Not that I think he would ever ask to lock me in a cage, but just putting it out there that I'm not okay with it. 

He had so many questions. What was I reading? Where was this cage and how did this get brought up in the story? Now he just likes to tease me with this bit of information at inopportune moments, like say, when we're antiquing with his mother. 

Antique stores have a lot of weird things in them. It makes you wonder why people save certain things and why they think other people will want to buy the crap they held on to. 

Aside from antiquing, it was too hot to do anything of note except lay inside the air conditioning all day and then go out to dinner. So we mostly laid around, drank and watched the Olympics. Then went to dinner and drank some more. It was the perfect vacation!

There were a few things I learned:

1. Air mattresses are not meant for long term sleeping arrangements and will make you feel like you are 80 when you get up in the morning. 

2. The Olympics make me cry, from the little touching stories they put together of the Olympians, to an underdog winning gold, to the medal ceremonies. I teared up too many times to count.

3. I like grits. And shrimp and grits are my new favorite thing!

4. Doing nothing on vacation away from home is far more relaxing than doing nothing in your own house.

5. I can map out an entire book on a nine hour car ride home. I think I remembered most of it too!

Anyone do anything fun this summer? The season is rapidly drawing to close. I like the fall and everything but it always makes a little sad to see the summer come to an end.

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A One Woman Mission~ Celebrating National Masturbation Month

Did you know May is masturbation month?? I wasn't aware this was a thing until a few years ago. Who doesn't like a little self-love? I, myself, am a huge fan. 

Writing is not my full time job, but it is my passion. And I happen to write some smutty stuff, and a lot of times it gets me pretty hot. 

Do not judge me. I'm calling it a hazard of the job, how on Earth can I write some hot spanky scenes without getting myself all hot and bothered? So yes, once I meet a writing goal, I let myself indulge. 

There is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with masturbation and in fact, I believe I have been taking care of business before I even officially knew what I was doing. I'm not ashamed and I think it is natural and normal and don't mind admitting it.

But it still doesn't mean I want to get caught in the act.

One day a few weeks ago I was writing away and set up a little goal-oriented system. Get the word count done and then I would allot some time for myself. I'm a morning person and I get up early even on my days off so I can write when I am at my best. I'm also a morning horny person. Unfortunately, I married a night owl who doesn't even make coherent sentences until he's been awake for at least an hour, has had a shower, and maybe a bowl of cereal. Morning sex is never an option. Unless you consider 3am morning, which I don't, that's still nighttime.

Anyway, I thought I still had enough time in my morning to write and get down to business. I wasn't quite finished with the writing but I heard my sweet, unsuspecting husband get up and get into the shower. I made the executive decision to scrap my goals and hop on over to spankingtube.

So I save my work, click over, and find a video that might strike my fancy. I should note I have to put my earbuds in to hear any sound as my laptop is all wonky. I start to get, shall we say, involved? And I pop an earbud out to make sure the shower is still running. It isn't! I hear footsteps! I barely get my hand out of my pants and the window on my computer closed before he makes it to the bottom of the stairs. 

I say good morning and rush into the bathroom before he can question why I'm out of breath! 

I was embarrassed, even though I am fairly certain he had no idea what occurred. It's also not like he doesn't know that I masturbate.

I'm really trying to figure out why this did embarrass me so much. I've had all kinds of kinky sex with this man, I've admitted my deepest darkest secrets to him, and I love him with all of my entire being. He has never been anything but sweet and understanding and non-judgemental about my wants and needs.

So why did this send me scurrying out of the room?

Sure it's super hot for my husband to whisper "Touch yourself" while we are doing all kinds of illicit activities. But that's different.

This was... embarrassing.

But I can't help feeling a little bit ridiculous that I am embarrassed about it. I thought I was completely open and self-aware and just comfortable with everything, but suddenly I felt like a horny teenager holed up in my bedroom worrying that everyone in the house knew what I was up to and was judging me for it.

It's not like I thought he would shame me. If anything he probably would have laughed and asked what I was up to. I realize now that it didn't have anything to do with him. It came from somewhere inside. That what I was doing was shameful and dirty and I shouldn't have been doing it. 

And all this time I thought I didn't live my life by these stigmas anymore. And I think it is a stigma, it's something our society has deemed as dirty and illicit. Masturbation gets a bad wrap. Nevermind a woman masturbating AND watching porn. 

But why? It's good stress relief. It's healthy to stay in tune with your body. And I think setting goals is a very adult thing (I realize I may be one of the only people in the world who uses masturbation as a reward, but don't knock it til you try it). 

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around what made me so embarrassed. I've masturbated in front of my husband before. Sure, it was during sex, and probably at his request, but it's not like he's never seen me touch myself. I fessed up later on that day, mostly because my reaction was bothering me.

My husband was unmoved and not at all surprised to hear I was masturbating in the living room. Things that probably would have surprised him more: declaring I had become a vegetarian, telling him I folded all the laundry, asking him if he'd like to join me for a run.

In the six years we've been married, I don't think I could admit to anything that would shock this man. At least sexually speaking. I think he's always ready for something and he doesn't mind rolling with it, which might be why we work so well together. 

So I asked what he would have done if I hadn't stopped what I was doing and continued on until I had reached orgasm. "Well, obviously, I wouldn't have bothered you. You gotta do you," was his reply.

He makes me smile. 

But really, I've admitted so many things and asked him to spank me, tie me up, engage in anal sex, and push boundaries with me in every sense of the word. But a little Saturday morning masturbation has me blushing like a guilty schoolgirl?

I think we need to lose the shame. There is nothing shameful about masturbating. I'm not saying that everyone should just feel free to satisfy their own needs in a public setting. But in my own home, where the only person who might happen upon me is the person I am in a wholly committed relationship with? Where's the shame in that?

You gotta do you.

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When Kinksters Sell Their Houses

Lately, I have been into home improvement shows and house hunting shows. We probably are nowhere close to owning our own house, but I love looking at the houses other people might buy. Sometimes they are in an interesting city. Sometimes they are such complete weirdos we spend the whole time making fun of the people on the show. 

It's the little things. 

Mr. McKay gets roped into watching these shows with me occasionally, he might even admit he likes them.

Anyway, the other night when we were having dinner we were watching some show about house hunting in Alaska. Very cool. I will probably never make it to Alaska, so I may as well check out three houses some couple may or may not buy when looking to relocate there. 

Their budget was like 2 million dollars or something and the houses they were looking at were huge and on acres of land or on a lake. I got up to refill my glass of water and Mr. McKay yells from the next room, "A sex room! These people have a sex room!"

Say what?

When I come back in, he's paused the show (the wonders of modern technology). "Like a BDSM dungeon?"

"Well, it's empty, because the people aren't living there. But look, this is a sex room, what else would you call this?"

He starts it up and the realtor brings this couple into the master bedroom. It's gorgeous and spacious, there are big windows with views. He opens the door to a massive walk-in closet. And then, oh look, enter the closet and walk to the back, there's another door. It opens to a room behind the master bedroom. The only way in or out is through the door in the closet. 

It's like Narnia up in here.

I'm all, "Whaat?"

He's like, "I know, right?" With a giant grin on his face. "That could be useful."

"Is it soundproofed?" I want to know. Why aren't these people asking the realtor the right questions? A list of things runs through my head. Is this room soundproofed, are these beams in the ceiling decorative or can they bear weight? How close are the neighbors exactly?

The wife seems a bit put off by this mystery room. She calls it odd and says she doesn't understand. The husband declares he can make it a man cave. Really dude? A man cave? You're both unadventurous idiots. And really, you're going to put a pool table in there and then invite your guy friends up to your bedroom to walk through your closet? Okay.

They go see some other house that was kind of boring and forgettable. Then house number three, again, into the master bedroom. The king size bed faces massive windows with a view of the gorgeous Alaskan scenery. And then you turn to look at the giant master bathroom. Which you can see into because there is a picture window separating the living space from the bathroom space.

http://mundo-gisele-morgado.tumblr.com/

A GIANT PICTURE WINDOW. Um, what?

Like, instead of a regular wall, just a wall of glass, bringing the bath tub, toilet, and shower into full view.

The realtor said it was so you could still see the view even from the bathroom. But I immediately had visions of some Alaskan rich dude with his sex slaves bathing for his pleasure (oh, like I'm the only one who went there?).

The couple said if they bought the house they would have to take that window out, which I can't blame them. I'm close to my husband and we share small quarters. It's inevitable that he would pop into the bathroom to get something while I am showering or brushing my teeth, but no one needs an up close view of anyone going about their business in the bathroom. That's why there are doors and locks. Even I have to draw the line in the kinky sand on that one.

This horribly bland couple bought the middle unforgettable house-- even though I was shouting "Sex room! Sex room!" from my couch, they didn't listen to me.

Things I learned from TV this week, some houses are built for kinky people. And Alaska might be the land of the kinksters.

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A Modern Day Romance~ Life of a Boring Married

I've been slacking on the blogging lately. To be honest, I've been slacking on the writing. It's dumb really, all I want to be when I grow up is be a full-time writer, but life gets in the way.

My day job has taken over. All good things. I have a new position which brought on some training and I am working new hours. I'm enjoying it, but adjusting. There seems to be less time for author and publishing stuff. And then I spend the time I have on publishing stuff and then my author stuff suffers. And when I have time to write (like right now) the words won't come—I stare at a blank screen and think about all the other things I could be doing with my time.

On top of that, I am back into the roller derby swing of things, complete with a fresh crop of bruises and a sore ache-y body from practice this week. Nothing better to make a girl feel alive!

And then there's this man I live with. You know, my husband, that guy I say hi to in passing when I whisk in from work and then back out with my derby gear. Oh yeah, him.

I think that's the problem with the blogging and writing as well, I often like to blog about the kinkier side of life. The spanking, sex and crazy fun we've been enjoying. Is it terrible to admit there has been none?

There's been nothing of that sort to blog about. I'm not lamenting or looking for sympathy. And I know it won't last forever. I think it's something that happens now and again. Nothing is wrong with us, life is happening. Outside stressors and things keep popping up. Family issues, health things, just all around suck-age.

If anything this short-term, sex-less, kink-less period has made me appreciate the marriage I have and the man I am sharing my life with. When the day has completely beaten me down and my feet are aching as hard as my soul, there's no one else I want to collapse onto the couch with. We sit in companionable silence and watch shows that have piled up on our DVR. Or we run some errands together and talk about anything and everything on the car ride. 

Is sex important in a relationship? Yes, I think it is. But I also think, since delving into the kinkier side of things, we have come to realize that communication is probably the most important thing in any relationship. I can get through this unsexy time because we're doing it together.

Life's been boring with nothing much to talk about. Maybe we've become boring married people. I'm trying to find the proper outrage within myself. I definitely never aspired to be a boring married person. But when you see the person you decided to spend the rest of your life with struggling and hurting and all you can do is hug them and tell them you get it. Kiss them and tell them you wish you could fix it. From the problem he's having at work to the biggest of life's biggest unfair things. And he smiles at you and says he knows, and he loves you.

And you realize you're his person. I mean, I've known all along that he's my person. You know, the person that can make everything seem better by doing nothing at all, but just being there for you. I guess I knew somewhere deep down that it probably did go both ways. I just didn't realize it until recently.

So here we are. The very (at this moment) un-exciting McKay's slogging through life much like the rest of the world. Is it any wonder I can't seem to finish this book jam packed with sex and kink and other lovely things? It's coming I swear.

In the meantime, I am in the middle of editing some very deliciously erotic, downright panty-dampening things that will be coming to you soon!

I'm sure life will be back to normal soon. Actually, this probably is normal. The ebb and flow of things, or life in general. Sometimes you just have to take a step back and figure shit out.

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Technology- A Kinksters Enemy

Let's face it, we live in a technology based society. I can easily say this as I write this on my laptop while I have seven different tabs open, I just checked my bank account balance online, looked up the new schedule for work, and got caught up on my old college roommate's holiday happenings (I haven't had a real conversation with her in close to ten years).

So yeah, I would say I'm pretty "plugged in". But then, I don't own a smartphone. I know, right? My parents have more sophisticated cell phones than I do. But neither me nor Mr. McKay have smartphones. It started as a money thing, we just plain could not afford them, or afford the data on our plan.

Now it isn't so much that. Perhaps laziness. We missed the original onset of them and now I feel like I am so behind I would need to enroll in a class. Plus, do I really need that? Do I really want that? It is kind of nice not being able to check my email when I run to the grocery store, is anything that important anyway?

It's not like I am living in a the dark ages, but sometimes it feels like everyone else in the world is a little more technologically advanced than we are.

And I am not sure they are convincing me that it's a good thing to be so connected.

We were cat sitting for friends of ours over Christmas weekend. We realized they had one of those new Amazon Echo speaker thing-a-ma-jigs (see how tech saavy I am?).

It's voice activated and you can ask it questions and it will also play music. So Mr. McKay and I were messing with it and asking it to play random songs. Then we stopped playing with it, but stayed in the living room and joked about having sex on the couch (which we have done while house sitting before but didn't this time). Then Mr. McKay almost knocked over a table with a ceramic nativity scene. Eventually, we tended to the cat's needs, locked up, and went home.

A week later we saw our friends at another friend's house. They mentioned that they were getting weird suggestions for songs to play and realized it was because we had listened to music on their Echo. How did they know about that?

Oh, it records you!

Panic spiked through my veins and I tried to remember what exactly we were talking about. My friend proceeds to take out her phone (that at this point I am fairly certain launches rockets) and says, "Let me see if I can find it."

Mr. McKay and I eye each other across the room, but what do you say without incriminating yourself. She plays the sound bite and you can clearly hear my husband requesting "Rock Lobster" by the B-52s. We sit and wait, but that was the extent of the recording. My palms remained sweaty until the end of our visit anyway.

We laughed on the way home, wondering what would have happened if they heard our entire conversation. I think they would probably still have us watch their cats, we're the right price (free) and they vacation a lot.

A few days later we were having dinner with Mr. McKay's parents. They just built in warmer climates and they are very excited to share all the new happenings with it. They plan to retire there in a few years and live in that house full time, but right now they go for long weekends and holidays. My father in law very graciously offered us the house any time we want it and we were thinking of taking him up on it—until he pulled out his iPad and showed us live video footage of their house.

Apparently they had security cameras installed? He can watch the feed live from his iPad. Again, Mr. McKay and I exchanged uncomfortable glances and I wondered how weird it would be to ask if the cameras were on all the time, and in what rooms exactly?

I kind of don't want to vacation there now. Not even for any kinky reasons (okay, maybe mostly for kinky reasons), but my mother in law does not need to know how messy we are. She'd have a heart attack if she saw our housekeeping ways. 

But really, even if I were assured the cameras were off, how does one get down and dirty comfortably? I'd be worried they would come back on or something. I would not be relaxed at all! 

It makes you long for the days when the biggest invasion of privacy was your brother picking up the extension when you were trying to have a phone conversation.

At this rate we'll only be able to get kinky in our bedroom, and where is the fun in that?

   

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Rough Sex and Spanking~ A Real Life Post

I had some unexpected sex this weekend. I mean the sex wasn't unexpected, it was the way it happened that was unexpected. I dropped hints to Mr. McKay all day that if he wanted to get up to something, then I was more than willing.

We had dinner, we were relaxing and it was growing later. To be honest, I was on the edge of annoyance because I knew if it got any later I would be too tired. Even though I didn't say as much, I kind of got the "chill out" look from my husband.

Whatever.

Finally, finally, finally, he says he's ready. Let's go upstairs. I'm trying to shake off my annoyed and pouty mood from just seconds ago. But I still have the sinking feeling that all may be lost for me. I've lost the horny headspace. Cookies and bed sound kind of appealing.

I'm trudging up the stairs, Mr. McKay is a few steps behind me. Almost at the top and he grabs me, pushes me down.

"What the—?"

My hips are bent over the top step so my upper body is laying on the landing. He pulls down my pants. I'm immediately wet because I think he's going to spank me. 

He smacks me once and I squeal. But then his tongue is on me, his hands are pulling my legs open and he's licking into me. 

My mind will not turn off. We're on the stairs. In front of our door, which has windows in it. Granted, little windows, but still. We have neighbors!

I can't relax, I can't get into this. Oh, good god his tongue!

I'm having an inner struggle—I can either relax and enjoy, or surrender to the thoughts running through my head and call a halt to the whole thing. I don't like being a quitter.

Here I am hanging on the edge of a pretty massive orgasm. I can feel it building up. But it won't kick in. My face is smashed into the carpet, I'm moaning, my nails digging into the pile, leaving dark trails in the fibers. I can't quite get there. 

Then Mr. McKay wraps a hand in my hair and wrenches my head back. I lost it. Seriously, the hair pulling, coupled with the oral, plus double penetration with his fingers? I was done. Only I wasn't. Because apparently I had no say in it, not that I'm complaining.

It was a great night and it made something clear to me. A few weeks back we were both kind of tired, but also pretty horny. I mean it happens. Neither of us were feeling too adventurous. And it ended up being nice. Being close and having any kind of sex is always nice, I do love my husband. But I could almost describe that night as an annoying orgasm.

I know that seems ridiculous, but that's the only way I can describe it. Nothing was really working, so that by the time we did actually achieve in getting me off it seemed like it had taken forever, and so much effort was put in that the outcome paled in comparison. I would have almost been happier just not having it all. Which sounds like a statement of crazy. Anyway, I can't be the only person who has ever had a frustrating orgasm.

The point is, I thought the link was spanking. We didn't have any kind of spanking that night, because I didn't want to seem like I needed it. And then when this happened I thought, shit, maybe I do need it. Every single time. Well how freaking high maintenance is that? And also, did I ruin myself forever?

I remember reading an article once, probably in some very reputable magazine like Cosmo or something, and it said that you could actually ruin sex for yourself if you used a vibrator too much. I mean, the rationale made sense, actual penises don't vibrate, and it was kind of saying if you became too dependent on achieving orgasm with a vibrator then you were setting yourself up for failure. 

I don't think this article was very scientific. And I also don't see what the big deal is if you need to use a vibrator even when you're with your partner. Who cares? But this piece of information entered my head when I had the frustrating orgasm and I thought it was because there had been no spanking. I had not become dependent on a vibrator, but maybe I am dependent on spanking.

For some reason that annoyed me. I know I enjoy spanking, and it gets me hot, but I don't want it to be the be all end all. Maybe I shouldn't even be thinking that way, because if it is then I can't really change it.

But then the sex this weekend! There was no spanking, except for that single slap (and really, that's nothing). There was hair pulling and nipple tweaking and honestly, that helped. All of it did: being pinned down, being taken. The roughness of the whole situation.

I'm feeling slightly vindicated that I am not, after all, a one trick pony. I can have amazing orgasms without spanking. I guess it's all the same category, if you really wanted to dissect it. Which I don't.

The thing I find funny is I did not know what would make me come, but my husband did.

Life is good.

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Respect and Trust... and Dirty, Dirty Sex

It's not a bad thing to be respected. In fact, as women in today's society we should expect to be respected. We should not be looked upon as lesser or weaker, or not as deserving.

That is, unless we want to. 

Really, I am talking about this in a sexual way. But even so, I don't feel like I should be using the word "respected". If you like being the submissive partner or the bottom in your relationship, you should still be respected, so that isn't really what I mean.

Let me start at the beginning of my thought process. I was speaking with a few acquaintances at a party. I started talking to one woman about her current boyfriend. She described him as respectful. But she said it in a way that made you think he had foot fungus or genital warts. She scrunched up her face and said, "Tom is very respectful." And then she rolled her eyes.

Me and the other woman we were talking to let that sink in a moment. Then we were like, "What?"

"You know, like, in bed."

Immediately we understood what she meant. She didn't want him to be so nice. Maybe she wanted it a little rough. Maybe she needed it a little dirtier. But the thing was, she didn't feel like she was getting what she wanted. He's a great guy, she assured us, but this part was lacking for her and she seemed resigned. She either stays with great guy and has lackluster 'respectful' sex, or she can explore her options.

"Did you tell him what you wanted?" This seemed like a no-brainer to me. I am a girl who's husband previously thought she was prude about everything and now we are having amazingly kinky sex. But sometimes I forget what a big leap that was.

She looked horrified at this prospect. But then the other woman we were talking to piped up. "Oh yeah, you can make them stop that."

I nodded my head in agreement. I wasn't about to divulge all of our kinky secrets, but I could let her know enough that I was getting the sex I craved.

She looked back at us with wide-eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Drew and I have been married for three years and I just convinced him to choke me."

I nearly spit my drink out, she said this so matter of factly that it made me want to cheer. Having been in her position and accidentally over-shared once or twice while under the influence, I didn't want her to feel alone. So I agreed and said that if you keep asking for what you want then your significant other might surprise you.

She looked skeptical. 

"Email him the dirty things you want him to do to you," I helpfully supplied. I told her that sometimes, especially in the beginning, I would email Mr. McKay even if we were sitting in the same room. Okay, sure, if I am wanting to do kinky things I should be able to say them out loud. But sometimes it's hard, especially when you are just bringing them up. Even when you love someone (especially when you love someone) the fear of rejection and ridicule can be crippling. 

You don't want to be laughed at or called a freak. Hopefully, if you are in a committed and trusting relationship this won't be an issue. I jumped in with both feet. I told my husband of a year (who also happened to be my friend for more than ten years) that I wanted him to spank me. That I couldn't live my entire life having the kind of sex we were having. It was scary. But it turned out great. 

It all comes down to trust. I trust this man with my heart. I trust him with my car and our finances. I trust him to feed our cats and not dry my bras when he's on laundry duty. I trust him with all of these every day things, why would I be scared about trusting him with my sexual desires?

Should you date or even marry someone who doesn't respect you? No. But is it so hard to trust someone to respect you enough to call you a slut in the bedroom? I don't think so. 

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A Love/Hate Relationship and High Five Worthy Sex

My birthday was this week. It came and went, but we took time to celebrate and we re-connected in a way we had not been able to since I broke my ankle.

Our sexual escapades since mid-May have been pretty much non-existent. Sure we've had sex since then, there had even been some spanking. But we never went all out kinky and there was always an air of caution.

I was still hindered with the medical boot on my actual birthday. But getting around much better, pain has been minimal and mobility has been good, so I was ready to rock!

Mr. McKay did some online shopping and got me some kinky sex toys (which always leads to interesting conversations with other people in our lives: "So what'd you get for your birthday?" Uh...nothing).

Among these gifts were a leather slapper and a new butt plug. I was super excited about both. We had a leather paddle, I guess it was kind of flimsy and cheap because it started coming apart (on my ass) which was unpleasant.

Mr. McKay shopped around and bought a heavier duty one. It is called a slapper, which I get why it's called that because it consists of two pieces of leather that slap together and make a slapping sound. But I feel like 'slapper' makes it sound like it's a kid's toy. Like those little plastic clapper hands, anyone know what I'm talking about?

I was a tiny bit crestfallen. The package said "slapper" I mistakenly thought "toy" and also mistakenly thought that it had two pieces slapping together to make it sound loud when really it would not be a hard strike.

You notice I said "mistaken" many times? Yep. Just keep reading.

The butt plug is stainless steel and has a green jewel on the base. I was excited! We had a glass one that cracked and I have always wanted to try stainless steel. Plus, the green jewel matches a set of lingerie I have and I get so excited about matching things!

I got a few other things we have not tried out yet, so I will wait to post about them.

Our night started out with me getting on my lingerie (first time since the breakage), I forgot how sexy lingerie can make me feel. Of course, it was a bit downplayed by they giant boot, but you know, far sexier than the yoga pants I've been living in.

Then the butt plug. Heavy, cold, pretty awesome :)

Then, hey, I guess we'll try out this slapper. I'm still bent over the bed and looking away, so I am not entirely prepared with the first smack. My eyes go wide and I rear my head up. Yeah, it was loud from the "slapping" of the leather pieces. The he smacks me again.

The pain registers this time and I yell out. One more and I am done.

"Ow, ow, ow! Stop!" I roll over onto my back. Wtf? What the hell is this thing?

I very rarely ever ask Mr. McKay to stop a spanking. I want spankings, all the time. Even if I am not really in the mood, if he initiates I am not turning him down. It's taken us a long time for it to get to the point where he actually spanks hard enough. Sometimes I have to fight with myself to not ask him to stop. Because he will. If I say stop, he stops.

Sometimes I wish he wouldn't because sometimes I say it but don't mean it. But not this time. 

We both froze, me still laying back awkwardly on the bed, my hands covering my naked ass. Him standing before me with the newly acquired paddle.

He gives me a puzzled look. 

I have instant regret. I remember it has taken us a long time to get to this point. I had to beg and cajole into some spankings. I had to reassure and reassure more that I liked it and wanted it, and yes it hurt, but I wanted it to hurt. And I am so so so scared that I just undid all of that. Years of growth, in one moment.

Words rush to my mouth. "I meant stop, for now. Not all the time."

He looks unsure.

"I was caught off guard! It's heavier than I thought. It's heavy right? I mean, like, no joke. But I want more," I say. Then I eye the thing again. "Later. Not now. I need to..." What do I need? My ass still stings. I want more. But good god, what is this weapon?

The Best/Worst Thing Ever

I get a smile. "Relax, let's have drinks."

So we did. We drank. We ate guacamole. We watched some TV. Is this our foreplay? Perhaps it is.

We go back upstairs and I requested the Magic Wand, because it is my birthday after all. So with the plug in and the wand on, I am back over the end of the bed.

He starts out with these light slaps of the leather paddle. I quickly look over my shoulder and scowl, "You can go harder than that! I wasn't prepared before."

"Relax. I'm just starting up!" He gives me a look and I turn back around.

I think this is my new thing to love to hate. God. It was hard and intense and just...what I needed. Coupled with the wand and the plug. I came and came. And then I tried to twist away from the spanks. He caught the tops of my thighs and I almost got away but he pushed me back down.

It was amazing!

And then I squirted. Which is always a bizarre feeling, if you ask me, but Mr. McKay was pretty proud of himself. 

We had amazing anal sex. Like, I don't want to brag, but we have a terrible track record. Between height differences and bad backs, and just freak things happening. It was like, high-five worthy, fuck yeah, we got this! Amazing.

He finished on my face and chest. I was still riding the euphoric afterglow of an orgasm. My body was vibrating in pleasure. You know it's good when your legs are shaking and you need to sit for a second before you can regain the power of speech.

If you had told me ten years ago that some of the best sex in my life would consist of being called a whore and having cum on my face I would have thought you were crazy. It would have secretly excited me, but I would have denied it. Luckily, I got over that and can admit what I like.

It was a good night. One I think we will remember for a long time. One we will probably judge future nights against. It's nice to have that once in a while. 

Afterwards, we laid in our bed together, groggy with sleep, sticky messes and I said it might have been my best birthday ever. But really, it didn't matter it was my birthday. It was just one of the best nights we had had in a long time and it was much needed.

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Creeping Out of the Kink Closet

This past week was a big week for me. First off, in this journey of "the summer of the broken ankle", I am finally able to put full weight on my injured leg! No more crutches! I still have a medical boot, but it's nice to be able to stand on my own two feet.

Secondly, I finished editing a book I'm putting out this week. Completely started and finished while I've been out on medical leave. Stay tuned for snippets and teasers :) I'm really proud of this one. I feel like I really found a groove and for the most part it just flowed.

The big thing that happened (besides walking) was I had an article published in a magazine! You can read Remark Magazine online. My article "Was it Something I Said?" is on page 56 of the July/August Issue.

It's a post I originally had on my blog a while back, so you may have read it already, but something about seeing the words I wrote in a magazine made me giddy!

When I was contacted by Remark a few months ago I was so excited that I told one of my real life friends. She's my derby wife and she knows I write erotic romance. She's always asking me how writing is going and she's shown interest in possibly penning her own stories.

For a while I wouldn't tell her my pen name. I mean, she seemed open minded about it all, but what if she wasn't? I couldn't bear the thought of being judged, or having her think of me differently based on what I write (and what I blog about—which is my real life).

I did eventually bite the bullet and tell her my pen name and she downloaded one of my books. I waited for the walls to close in on me, for the sky to cave in, and the world to end. But nothing happened.

She didn't treat me differently, or make me feel like a weirdo. She continued to ask about writing and what new things I was working on. So when I knew I was getting published in a magazine she was one of the first people I told and it felt liberating.

Then the day came where the issue went live. I took another leap and sent her the link.

I knew it was very possible she would forget to read it. Or she would read it and have no comment. I was no longer worried she would have a negative reaction, but I braced myself for no reaction. 

She got back to me and told me she was proud of me and she loved my article. She also agreed on all points :)

I am lucky in the fact that I have an incredibly supportive husband. But it does get exhausting at times feeling like I am leading a double life. It makes me happy that I have stuck my toe out of the kink closet and not had it bitten off. 

And now I'm touting the wonders of anal sex to one magazine reader at a time :)

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Spanking it Out

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