It’s TMI Thursday so time to talk about anal!
Sex is my favorite thing to do. Simply put, sex is my favorite:
1. Hobby;
2. Stress reliever;
3. Exercise; and
4. Way to celebrate.
Buckeyes Boy and I had an amazing sex life…until he returned to work. His hectic schedule was a downer in every sense of the word. After our recent talks in late October 2009, he had been making an effort to be more affectionate, though. And, that (thankfully) translated into a little more lovin’ for yours truly.
Around this time, I started to realize that when I dressed in lingerie, we wouldn’t have sex. Never. He would compliment me on how I looked, even asking to check out the ensemble from different angles. But, his stress, exhaustion and constant malaise always won out over his love of lingerie. If I was wearing glasses, sweats and no makeup, however, we might have sex. I enjoy lingerie irrespective of whether an outfit leads to sex, but it’s just fascinating to me how much our routine changed when he went back to work.
Usually, I would go to bed an hour or two before Buckeyes Boy. When we kissed goodnight, I’d say,
I’ll be in the bedroom if you want anal.
Sometimes he did. Sometimes he didn’t. Most times I would realize that we were going to be having sex when he kissed me more than once after he got into bed. (He’s lucky that I’m a light sleeper.)
On one occasion in early November, we both surprisingly got ready for bed at the same time, and Buckeyes Boy began making out with me while I was still at the vanity. We moved to the bed, and our clothes were on the floor in record time. As he went for the lube, he asked if I should take Nutter [my dog] off of the bed.
Me: Well, I’m going to be smart and put her in the living room. [A few friends with dogs suggested that I move Nutter out of our bedroom during sex because she might think that Buckeyes Boy and I are fighting, rather than making love. Nutter had never barked or moved from her crate when we were having sex before, but I’m sure that all the biting, slapping and spanking confused her.]
I quickly brought Nutter to the living room and went back to bed. Before he put the lube on and went inside my ass, I decided to give Buckeyes Boy a blow job. Of course, I’ve done that before, but I focused a lot more on the perineum (the sensitive area between the base of the cock and the ass).
I alternated between licking that area and flicking my tongue on that spot as I gave him a hand job with rubbing my finger on that spot as I put his cock or his balls in my mouth. Buckeyes Boy always enjoyed when I went down on him, but I could tell that he really appreciated how I mixed it up.
When he was as hard as I had ever seen him, I reached for the lube. We started having anal with me on top, facing him, and then flipped over. We finished off in our favorite position of late. I was on my back facing him with my butt on the edge of the bed. He was over me, off of the bed, and my leg was on his shoulder. (Yes, we are both very flexible.) That angle also allowed him to bite my legs as he was thrusting. (And, yes, our penchant for rough sex resulted in a lot of bruises on my calves and ankles to match the bruises on my arms and upper back.)
After he came and we were lying on top of each other, I noticed the oh-so-unpleasant aroma of shit in the air. (Unfortunately, as I mentioned in my Anal 3.0 post, that can happen with anal sex, but it’s never fun.) Buckeyes Boy and I both got up to go to the bathroom so I didn’t say anything. I hoped that he didn’t even smell what I smelled, but when I returned to the bedroom, I couldn’t deny it any longer.
Me: Uuuhhh…this room smells like ass!
Buckeyes Boy: It’s all that tostada pizza you’ve been eating. [I’m a huge fan of CPK’s Tostada Pizza, and since sex with Buckeyes Boy was no longer a daily occurrence, I was no longer eating light every night.]
We both start cracking up and simultaneously say,
That could be a blog post!
Me: I need to go get a candle.
I walked down the hall toward the living room and felt like the odor got progressively stronger. Why did my whole place smell like shit?
I turned on the light as I went to get a candle and Nutter and saw the reason why. My sweet little dog – who had never had an accident in the living room before – peed and pooped on my Oriental rug.
I picked her up from the couch and started laughing to myself.
Me: Guess who peed and shit on the carpet? [Buckeyes Boy looks at me with wide eyes.] So apparently, she’s pissed at you if I leave her in the bedroom when we have sex, but she’s pissed at me if I take her out.
Buckeyes Boy: That’s your girl.
I cleaned up the carpet, put a candle in the bedroom and since I didn’t have any Lysol, I sprayed Thierry Mugler’s Angel in the living room. It took a few hours for the smell to leave my bedroom, but it took days for the smell of Angel to be gone. (I guess I went a little overboard since at the time, I thought the perfume smelled better than Nutter’s poop.) I haven’t worn Angel since, but I guess it’s better than having my living room smell like crap.
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