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‘Randomness’ Category

  1. We Say Goodbye to 2014

    January 1, 2015 by Heather Cole

    2015-2

    Happy New Year, y’all!

    I must confess that I’m not sorry AT ALL to usher 2014 out the damn door. Last year was a real bite in the ass for me in significant ways. The spring of 2014 brought my mama’s diagnosis of uterine cancer. Then in July, my daughter underwent successful open heart surgery. August was burned into my brain, because my sir left for a three-year work contract overseas. The three most important people to me all suffered. Hey, 2014, KISS MY ASS!

    The year wasn’t all bad, of course. I published three books, one of which went into an , and I have even more expected to be published in 2015. Last year meant broadening my writing horizons and making new friendships in the blogging/author world. I also had some amazing sexual adventures with my sir before he left, and to my surprise and delight, those adventures didn’t cease when the geographical distance between us increased. Don’t worry. Y’all will hear all about them. Well, most of them. This girl does need her secrets.

    In case you missed them, here are three of my favorite posts of 2014:

    H is for How – A post written by my beloved sir in response to a reader’s question. I swoon all over again reading his words. *blissful sigh*

    She Stabbed Me, and I Bubbled – My first experience with needles. Reading this again makes me grin. It was SO MUCH FUN!

    Heather Orgasms in Public – I did! While hypnotized! In front of university students! (I’ll stop exclaiming now)

    Looking back at the year behind us, I’m able to see the growth and the gifts that arrived on the heels of heartache and worry. I was tested in ways that I couldn’t have foreseen, and I think I’m now in a better place than when the year began. Thank you, dear readers, for coming along for the ride. There are so many good things to come. Heh. Come…

    KISSES!

    ~Heather

    ***********************************

    All in all, 2014 was a stellar year for me in many ways. After four years of tears, edits, and rewrites, I finally published , my piece What Heteroflexible Means for Me was chosen by Jill of Naked All the Time as one of The Best Sex and Dating Posts of September 2014, I was featured as Kinkly’s Sex Blogger of the Month for December, and Vagina Antics was given a super-hot spot on the Top Sex Bloggers of 2014 list. All of it makes me ridiculously giddy, and none of it would have been possible without y’all. For that and all of your hugs and support, I am incredibly grateful.

    By the time the year ended, though, it was clear that moving forward, my life will travel a different path, but I’m not mad at it. No mud, no lotus, right?

    Aaaaaand moving on, here are my favorite posts from 2014:

    P is for Pro-Choice – My life, my body, and my right to choose.

    An Anal Heart-to-Heart – The day my daughter wanted to talk about anal sex.

    Bangin’ Basics: A Guide to Group Sex – Quick and dirty tips.

    So what’s coming in 2015? Heh. I am.

    *boobsmooshes*

    ~Nikki

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  2. Porn Stars Explain Net Neutrality

    November 15, 2014 by Heather Cole

    The words “net neutrality” have been bandied about a lot these days. There’s a current smear campaign by Senator Ted Cruz sweeping across social media and the media in general. This tidbit came from Twitter: “‘Net Neutrality’ is Obamacare for the Internet; the Internet should not operate at the speed of government.” But if you know anything about this issue, then you know net neutrality is about the control of bandwidth which, in turn, controls content.

    Here’s my favorite post so far explaining the ins and outs. Heh. In and out…

    DEAR SENATOR TED CRUZ by The Oatmeal

    Comcast bullying Netflix into paying them millions of dollars to grant their viewers access to view Netflix content was surreal. And they got away with it! Now the issue is in the spotlight again, because people like Senator Ted Cruz want to base how the net operates on money. Those who pay the most, like Comcast, get the best speeds and unfettered content. Low income families, on the other hand, will be shafted. In the daily struggle of existence in poverty, do you think high internet fees are a priority?

    The beauty of the internet is that it’s a great equalizer. People come together that normally would never have met in our physical reality. The internet doesn’t care what your household income is or if you’re in your mother’s basement. The internet is this swirling mess of freedom and chaos that’s accessible to everyone, and I really want to keep it that way. You should too.

    Just in case you were still confused about why this applies to your life, let these lovely porn stars enlighten you. *giggle*

     

    Category Randomness | Tags: ,,,,,,,,, | 3 Comments

  3. M is for Mouth

    June 13, 2014 by Heather Cole

    My mouth gets me in trouble on a regular basis. I’m sassy, sometimes bordering on bratty, and words are my trade. If you can’t bandy words with me, chances are you won’t get in my pants. A friend joked recently that I always seem to carry a shovel with me. Meaning, I can dig my own grave with my words–a hole I can’t escape. My mouth often speaks before I can think through the repercussions which is one of the reasons sadists love me. I can’t help it so I’ve stopped trying.

    My mouth is central to my submission. I get spanks when I mouth off, among other things, and my mouth is a necessary tool when it comes to cock worship. I don’t give mere blowjobs. I worship, and my mouth is an essential part of this. It’s an intimate connection of taste, scent, and sensation. Until I met sir, I never realized how much fun cock worship could be for the giver. For that moment I’m in control, the architect of his pleasure. I’ve learned how to ply my lips and tongue to incite specific reactions in his body. BJs have become an integral facet of our dynamic, and I’m grateful for all the opportunities he gives me. Even the 3:00 am ones… ok, not those so much because SLEEP.

    Mouths are also a big part of the fiction I write, here and in my novels. Below is an excerpt from “The Professor’s Pet” in Tales of a Filthy Good Girl. (Buy it on Amazon! Pretty please!)

     

    She could always tell when he had a great class: his mood was buoyant and his gestures expansive. He entered the house with a broad smile, and she could feel his body practically vibrating with satisfaction when they embraced. She also recognized the glint in his eye and watched him warily. In these moods he reminded her of a tiger, lazy and lolling on his back one minute, his jaws around her throat the next. They may have been discussing dinner plans, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. It gave her an odd combination of nerves and happiness. It was her favorite kind of game, but as his pet, she never knew what would trigger the switch that would catapult them into a scene. He wanted her on edge, focused and watchful, and that’s where she remained. Until he said otherwise.

    Today was one of those times. He asked her about the roast which she had failed to start in the crockpot. She had a list of excuses, but as they tumbled out in defense, one of his hands came around her throat. The slight pressure stopped her mid-sentence, and she went completely still. He pushed her backwards until she hit the refrigerator, the magnets falling away as collateral damage.

    “I’m not mad, pet,” he said, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin at her throat.

    He captured her mouth and pushed his tongue past the defense of teeth and tongue. Her body responded instantly, betraying her desire. Her arms went around his waist and she tilted her head to give him better access, a flush blooming across her skin. She had the fleeting thought that if she pressed against him she would be able to absorb him into her body. At times like this, her entire world dwindled to the point of pleasing him, and she returned his kisses eagerly.

    “I have better plans than the roast. Go get cleaned up and wear your favorite dress.” He gave her an affectionate pat on the ass.

    She opened her mouth to ask him about the evening’s activities, but his fingertips dug into her neck just enough to halt her words. Blue eyes met hers.

    “I’ve had twenty-somethings in heels and business casual dress striving to please me all day with correct answers and insightful observations. I’ve enjoyed being obeyed at lecture. Are you going to please me now that I’m home?”

    “Yes, professor. I wish to please you more than anything.” It was a truth she felt in her soul and her body, the cleft between her thighs already wet with anticipation.

    “Good girl. Now go get ready.”

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  4. L is for Learning

    June 12, 2014 by Heather Cole

    If there is one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that I will continually learn new things about myself. I thought my sexual awakening in my late teens was “the big one.” Little did I know that I would have a second, more profound, sexual awakening in my late thirties that would literally rock my world. I thought I knew everything I had to about sex, and I thought, for the most part, that the rest of my life was going to be the occasional, after church, missionary, twenty minutes for the rest of my days. I learned that missionary didn’t have to be the rule, nor did monogamy, and I learned how to find happiness in and out of the bedroom. I’ve learned the my sexuality is fluid as is my sex drive, and I strive to learn more about my partner in order to be a better partner.

    The L-word coincides nicely with June being Adult Sex Education Month. And if you immediately retorted, “Heather, I already know everything I need to know about sex,” then YOU in particular need to read more and explore. Especially if the core of your sex education came from the public school system. Get thee to a sex education blog! Quick!  The more you learn and discover about your own sexual self and sex in general, the more you realize there are holes in your education. And IN you. Heh. Holes.

    Personally, I’m striving to learn more about gender equality. I’m a fan of Laverne Cox, a trans person on Orange is the New Black. (She also made the cover of Time Magazine–and dayum!) In a recent interview, Katie Couric asked her “when you think about the ideal scenario for the trans community, what would that look like?” Cox replied, “I think it goes beyond the trans community. It’s for everyone to have spaces for gender self-determination. I think the idea that one is always and only the gender they were assigned at birth–that idea needs to be challenged. So that we’re not stigmatizing, objectifying, sensationalizing, or criminalizing transgender people, but celebrating them. And celebrating everybody who has the audacity to be themselves and to live authentically.”

    Laverne Cox makes my heart go pitter-pat, and she’s brought the trans community more front-and-center for me. I realize that some people are still struggling to accept gay marriage. Well, sweetums, gender equality should be the next thing on your To Learn List. It’s definitely on mine.

    ~Heather

    **********************************

    As a sex-positive blogger who is a single parent of a teenage daughter and a son who is on the cusp of hormone hell, I’m learning that I have to communicate about sex in a whole new way. It’s a super huge responsibility and awkward at times, but it’s my job to make sure they’re properly educated about all things sex. I have to choose my words wisely, though, because they will be the ones that form their opinions. Like the time the teen brought up the topic of anal sex. I’m still learning how to answer their questions on a level they can understand and sometimes I fuck up, because I’m human.

    ~Nikki

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  5. F is for Fart

    June 6, 2014 by Heather Cole

    I know. I know. Ladies don’t fart.

    Right.

    It happens, though. Let’s all admit it and get over it already. The more sex you have in various positions, locations, conditions… the human body makes noises. Our physical selves have reactions to a myriad of stimuli, and it’s natural to respond. Take deep throating, for example. Have I puked on sir? Yup. I don’t advise shoving a cock into the back of your throat after indulging in Taco Tuesday. Just sayin’. I wanted to be good at deep throat which meant practicing enough that I conquered my sensitive gag reflex. Well, a fart is to your anus like puke is to your throat. YES, THAT MAKES TOTAL SENSE.

    I realize that sir and I have reached a place in our relationship where body secretions and noises are par for the course. He takes things in stride, knowing that my body can’t help its responses. And I do the same for him. For heaven sakes, I have to high-five the man when he rips a really good one in bed. So that should mean that I can do the same, right? Well, no.

    Because ladies don’t fart.

    Here’s the hysterical story of one woman who did.

    ~Heather

    **************************************

    Okay, I’m going to dispel Heather’s statement about ladies farting– I don’t fart. Like ever. That’s impossible, you say? Well, it’s not. I’m a southern girl and we’re just not allowed. I’m fairly certain the ability to fart is stripped from our DNA in the womb. I do, however, burp. A lot, and loud. Because I’m fucking classy.

    Moving on…

    Mr. K has a thing about farting in front of me– he’s embarrassed to do it. And in the course of our two year relationship, he’s farted in front of me once. ONE TIME, y’all. But that doesn’t count the nights he’s farted in his sleep.

    Shhhhh, don’t tell him I said that. He would DIE.

    Recently, though, he had an epiphany, if you will. I have hearing loss and Tinnitus in my left ear from way too many years of way too loud rock music. Also, it’s genetic. That means that unless I’m watching your lips move when you speak or if your voice is a certain tone, chances are I’ll miss a lot of what you’re saying. But Mr. K has finally realized the advantage here and has decided he’s going to start farting in front of me– I won’t hear it anyway.

    Nikki

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  6. E is for ejaculate

    June 5, 2014 by Heather Cole

    Welcome to the Spanking A-Z Blog challenge created by SpankingRomance.com! Yes, we’re late, but that’s completely Nikki’s fault. She had a and all that. You’ve bought it, right? RIGHT? So forgive us for missing A is for Anal, B is for Bisexual, Breasts, and Blowjobs (preferably all together), C is for Cunnilingus, and D is for Dominant Dicks. Just kidding about that last one. Today we’re on E, and ejaculate happens to be one of my most favorite things…

    Let me be more specific. The ejaculate that belongs to the man I love is my favorite thing. When I was dating more than one man, I loved all their jizz. Yup… all y’all. I guess I need an emotional connection to the penis in order to love the ejaculate. (And there goes my career in bukkake.) But once I develop feelings for the penis(es) and the man(men) attached to it(them) I willingly and enthusiastically take that come anyplace/anywhere which explains why I sometimes take it in the eye and in the marble bathroom at the ballet (Holy Echo, Batman).

    Most recently I was in the bathroom with sir… I was on all fours with him behind me. I could tell he was close to orgasm and a tiny part of my mind was anticipating where he’d finish. The rest of me was preoccupied with how euphoric I felt and the sensations that surrounded our joining. Suddenly I felt his fist wrapped in my hair, and he hauled me up on my knees. I gasped as he came, the warmth of his ejaculate coating my back. It felt raw, almost primitive. And I felt completely owned.

    Although we climbed into the shower and he soaped my back, we missed a little bit of ejaculate at the base of my neck. I got to wear it under my clothes for the rest of the day, smiling and remembering the incredible morning.

    Pro Tip: I relish wearing come, but for those of you that don’t, SCRUB it off immediately with soap and water. Otherwise it’s sticking around, and you won’t notice it until it’s dry and flaking off. If that happens to be on your face… well, expect some comments. Just sayin’.

     

    Heather

    *************************************

    Ah, sweet, sweet semen… I mean ejaculate.

    *ahem*

    Studies show that the average man produces anywhere from .01 to 10 milliliters of ejaculate when he comes. If that’s true, Mr. K is above average– WAY above average. And I try my best to swallow it all when he ejaculates in my mouth, but it’s hard. Heh. Hard. He comes so much that it runs down my hand and it gets into my hair. Hell, it even comes out of my nose.

    Come bubbles are totally a thing.

    I love everything about Mr. K’s ejaculate– the smell, taste, feeling, and the sheer volume of it. He loves the taste of it too, especially when I feed it to him from my pussy. He didn’t love it, though, when it got all in his eyes as I sat on his face, and do you know why? Because that shit burns, y’all.

    Nikki

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  7. The Only Certainty is Uncertainty

    May 22, 2014 by Heather Cole

    “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”  –Helen Keller

     

    If you follow me on social media, you already know that my mama is one of my best friends and my life-long rock of support. Three weeks ago she had an emergency hysterectomy and was diagnosed with Stage 3 uterine cancer. Her oncologist called the cancer aggressive, and in the span of six days, all of our plans for the future and her life as we knew it fell into disarray. I felt like a fish thrown that had been thrown on to the bank of a river; I lay there gasping, unable to catch my breath or my bearings. The entire landscape of my life had changed in the blink of my eye.

    Next week, my daughter will have surgery for a heart condition that she has had since birth. She certainly doesn’t act like a kid with a heart problem, but doctors have advised that we need to fix it now to avoid bigger problems down the road. We live near one of the best research hospitals in the US, and everyone’s hope is that this surgery will be her only one. Despite all the good that will come of it, the anguish I feel watching my baby undergo this process makes me want to rant and rave at the unfairness of the universe. Mama was supposed to make the eight hour trip to be with us during the surgery, but now it will be me and my beloved sir keeping vigil while Mama says her prayers from home.

    Most days I consider myself an optimistic person, but this trifecta of challenges (my mama’s cancer, my child’s operation, and my sir’s imminent departure) have knocked me low. Like that stranded fish, I feel like I’m flopping every which way to try and find my way back into familiar waters. The things I drew comfort from in my various roles as daughter, mother, and slave now feel as if they’re in jeopardy. On my darker days, I fear that everything lies on the precipice of disaster.

    If I could, I would take my mama, and child, and sir, and bind them all tightly to me so I could keep them with me and safe. Why is it that the three people most important to me are all undergoing huge life challenges while I can only sit beside them, hug them tight, and tell them that I’ll be there no matter what? Thomas Moore coined it “the dark nights of the soul” and let me tell you, darling readers, it is dark in these parts.

    Being in this dark place makes it challenging for me to reach out to others. When someone asks how I am, the honest answer would be “well, I’m crying for the third time this morning, and my life is changing so fast I’m getting seasick.” Who wants to hear that? I certainly don’t want to hear those words AGAIN, so I shut my mouth tight and wrap steel bands of control around myself to keep everything in place so I can work, be a good mom, and a decent partner. Trying to keep the tidal wave dammed up never works for long, of course. I find myself acting out with sir; being willful and bratty. And the slightest unexpected change to my schedule sends me into a tailspin. The worst part is feeling insecure in my relationship with him. I’ve never felt so raw or vulnerable, and I begin to jump at shadows, thinking that every approaching person or potential play partner will be the undoing of our relationship. Logically I know that I’m being irrational, and yet, I can’t stop the feelings rolling through me. I would like to get off the emotional roller coaster now please, but I don’t think my ride is over yet.

    I used to be confident about the path my life was taking, but now I’m afraid to trust the ‘everything will be all right in the end’ sentiment. Happiness is now distilled into single moments:  my child’s voice lifted in song, my mama’s laughter on the other end of the phone, the strength of sir’s arms around me at night. Love fiercely, I tell myself. You have this moment now. Through the tempest of these changes, I will know my heart at least. I know who it belongs to. And my love for my mama, my daughter, and my sir shines as its own guiding light. Of that I am certain.

     

    Category Randomness | Tags: ,, | 22 Comments

  8. It’s a Boobday Anniversary!

    March 23, 2014 by Heather Cole

    I’m a big fan of Boobday. I love the curves of the ladies who participate and the various boob themes that Hyacinth creates with her sexy awesome mind. So when Hyacinth over at A Dissolute Life Means asked me to submit a boob photo for her anniversary edition, I was all OH HELL YEAH!

    The theme for the anniversary post was Hyacinth, and I concocted two different poses that were reminiscent of Hy’s photos. One involved holding my grumpy cat to my cleavage which he was thrilled about. THRILLED. He’s probably going to eat my face off some night in revenge. The other pic is all boob in one of my favorite Hyacinth photos. So go on over and admire all the ladies and Hyacinth, of course.

    Hurray for boobs!

    ~Heather

     

    adissolutelifemeans.com/boobday/

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  9. I ran a half-marathon

    November 4, 2013 by Heather Cole

    Pic for VA

    Fifteen years ago I bought a book about how to run a marathon, and I began to run almost every day. But then I stopped. I justified this up and down and sideways, but the bottom line was that I lacked the self-confidence to see my dream reach fruition. Around that time I met my ex-husband and got married, and my running dream was pushed further away as I tried to become the wife I thought I was supposed to be.

    It turned out that my ex-husband wanted to run triathlons, and he set out to do so. I stayed home, though, because in his eyes I was too overweight to even attempt training for one. And since my self-esteem was already shaky, every critical word my ex spoke was like a nail in the coffin of my self-worth. He spoke aloud the secret thoughts I whispered to myself, so of course it had to be true.

    If you have ever lived with a critical person, then you know what I’m talking about. Those ugly, belittling words became a part of how I viewed myself. As our marriage was ending, I thought my ex was right. I was overweight, unattractive and the choices I wanted for my life would always leave me alone, but some part of me knew that I had to get out if I was ever going to have a chance at living a life as myself.

    At that point, I didn’t think about my running dream at all. It was buried with all the other things I figured I would eventually get to once I moved past the day-to-day-just-managing-to-hold-my-shit-together stage that many of us go through in the aftermath of divorce.

    Two years later, my running dream returned front and center when two different men entered my life. I had mentioned my running dream in passing, never thinking that they would push it front and center again in my life. Although they had different approaches, they were my loudest cheerleaders. They both became part of the catalyst that made me pull on my running clothes again, and as I pieced together my self-esteem, they bolstered me with their confidence that I could DO this. Even when I thought running a half-marathon was impossible, both of them were absolutely certain I could accomplish this. And some days I believed them more than I believed in my abilities.

    This past weekend I found myself awake at 5 a.m. and eating a Power Bar as LH made himself coffee. I felt giddy as I fumbled three times to get my timing chip tied in place on my sneaker. We watched the sun rise as we drove to where the half-marathon would start. It was perfect running weather, chilly and sunny with a slight breeze. I felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety and anticipation. I’m certainly not the fastest runner, but I don’t give up easily. I felt prepared, but I was also apprehensive about the last couple miles of the race. Miles 12 and 13 were uncharted territory for me. Although I had been hypnotized to help me break through a mental block I had about mile 10, I didn’t know what to think beyond that mile marker. I looked at LH and he repeated the words he had been saying since the beginning, “you can do this.”

    In the television series Walking Dead, there’s a scene in the first season when a ‘herd’ of zombies comes shuffling down the highway. That’s kind of how it felt when the race started. I began towards the back of the pack. The fastest runners and those running the full marathon started at the front. Even after the shot goes off to start, it takes a little bit of time for everyone to get moving. And at the start, you’re shuffling around slower people to find your pace. At some point further along the race, someone had made a sign that said “RUN LIKE ZOMBIES ARE AFTER YOU.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one with zombies on the brain.

    LH met me on the other side of the finish line to take pictures and congratulate me. I think my first words were, “that was the most terrible thing ever.” I was stunned and loopy at the same time, and part of me couldn’t comprehend what I had just achieved. It was later, after I had showered and devoured a plate of eggs and bacon, that it began to sink in that I had run 13.1 miles in an organized race. I had this uncharitable moment when I wanted to call my ex-husband and say, “Fuck you–I am more than you ever imagined. I am more than I ever imagined.” But the race wasn’t about him or his bad opinion. It was about me and making a dream my reality.

    I know now, more than I ever did before, that I can do anything I put my mind to. Whether it be lose weight or sell a hundred books… I can do it. I’m only limited by my beliefs, and I’m through thinking I don’t deserve it or that I’m unworthy. I’m done living a limited life based on others’ perceptions of me. I have this one life, this one shot, and I’m going to do my damnedest to live it to my full potential. Watch out world, here I come.

    Category Randomness | Tags: ,, | 11 Comments

  10. THE ANNIVERSARY POST

    January 4, 2013 by Heather Cole

    Our first donuts together.

    Our first donuts together.

     

    January 3 was our official anniversary, and VAGINA ANTICS is now one year old. Can you hear me squealing with delight? ONE YEAR OLD! And in that short time we’ve hit some heels-over-our-ears goals, like being #26 on THE TOP 100 SEX BLOGGERS OF 2012. Dammit, I’m going to throw confetti all over again to celebrate. *breaks out vacuum*

    Looking back at our first month of posts in January 2012, I had to laugh at some of our hijinks. I’m also a bit nostalgic for those two women beginning this adventure. We had no idea what was in store for us, and we’re still wondering… looking back, laughing, and then thrusting ahead. Heh… I said “thrust.” I don’t know that Nikki and I are any more skilled at relationships now than we were then, but we certainly know more about ourselves (and our vagina’s) than we did. We’re also looking forward to sharing another year of shenanigans and blunders and the dreaded feefees! (that’s “feelings” for those of you not afraid of them)

    Read our first post

    Then and Now – Some of our 2012 Highlights

    HEATHER:

    Then: Jan 2012 – Dubbed High Priestess of Sexual Blunders by Nikki for my rookie mistakes in bed.

    NOW: Um, yeah… so… sigh… I still wear that crown. I got jizz in my eye just the other night. IT WAS DARK! There was this unexpected last shot that just took my eye by surprise. Stop snickering and hand me an eyepatch. Also, I want an apology chocolate cake. NOW!

    Then: Feb 2012 – I met Liri and she popped my lady cherry!

    NOW: Her guest post, The Art of Cunnilingus, is still one of our most viewed pages. We began officially dating in the summer and typing that still makes me blush. She’s my touchstone. My world isn’t right unless we’re in sync. We interact a lot on the Twitter if you’re into lusty cheese references. No really. Cheese. Because cheese is the best food of all. Stop rolling your eyes, Nikki!

    Then: March 2012 – I had a biopsy and talked to my Mama about being kinky for the first time. (Reading this still makes me cry. Damn the feefees!)

    NOW: I’m perfectly healthy and out to my Mama and little brother about being kinky, bisexual and polyamorous. Or as Mama likes to say, “I’m livin’ crazy.” Yes, I still love her something awful.

    Then: July 2012 – I left the service of my first Dominant and Master. It was the most devastating break-up of my life, but after he and his wife trashed me publicly on Twitter, I swore I’d never write another word about him. I also ended a polyamorous relationship with B. Thankfully we’re still in contact, still friends and can still wax nostalgic about the moon and the most horrible movie ever made.

    NOW: I’m currently “under consideration” for a new collar from the Boy Scout. I received a custom-made collar and cuffs for Christmas (along with a pretty pink butt plug) although I haven’t earned the right to wear them yet. I’m also discovering other Dominants in the community that wish to use their sadistic talents on this slave’s pale flesh. Plus, my kickass girlfriend is a sadistic cunt in her own right. (And I say that with all the love in my heart.) My other partner, Zen, can deliver a fantastic spanking even though he considers himself the “conventional” one in the group. My cup runneth over with beatings and bruises and orgasms! BLISS!

    Then: August 2012 – Nikki and I went to our first BDSM club! I had my first rope scene! I melted into a puddle at the talented hands of Master Cecil!

    NOW: On my next trip to visit Nikki you bet your sugar britches we’re going back to The Woodshed. I’ve kept in touch with one Dominant in particular from that night who wants to “host” me for a couple days. I’ll be a live-in slave for a short stint… oh holy Moses, will that be a helluva good time and blog post.

    Then: November 2012 – We made the list! Nikki and I hit #26 on The Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012!! Many thanks to Rori from Between My Sheets for placing us there and our fans who voted. Spanks all around!

    Now: I was laying on my living room floor with Zen, tucked into the crook of his arm. He placed a kiss on my forehead and murmured, “you’re the best find of 2012.” I grinned, kissed him back, and said “I’m going to steal your words for the end of my blog post!” 2012 brought amazing people into my life. People who I still talk to and love and cherish. I’m grateful to be a part of their lives, for the abundance of love and respect that surrounds us, and I’m looking forward to seeing what adventures we get up to in 2013. And the sex. Oh heavens, am I looking forward to the sex.

    NIKKI:

    Then: February 2012 – I expressed my exceedingly low level of bullshit tolerance in an open letter of sorts to any Dom, eDom, or wanna-be who mistakenly assumed that just because I was submissive, I was submissive to everyone.

    Today: I dare anyone to try.

    Then: April 2012 – The Switch was a hot little fiction piece about the awakening of the dominant inside when her partner expressed the desire to wear her anal plug.

    Now: Okay, I lied. There was nothing fictitious about it. It was totally me, my boyfriend, and my plug in his ass. Since then, we’ve graduated to bigger and better *snicker* things, but my stainless steel plug is still put to good use from time to time. Now, though, my favorite place to put it is in his mouth, after he’s told to remove it from my ass.

    Then: April 2012 –     The search for the perfect strap-on was exhausting, but the emotions of topping my boyfriend for the first time damn near did me in. Part of me was still clinging to the notion that I was a submissive. I didn’t know if I could take my boyfriend with a strap-on. Or if I even wanted to. And the other part of me was secretly worried how unsexy I would look while trying to put the fucking harness on.

    Now: The doubt I once had makes me giggle. Not only do I enjoy fucking him with a strap-on, I crave it. And hearing him beg is an incredible high. Also, Santa failed to bring me the La Femme harness I asked for, but no worries, my boyfriend is perfectly happy with our recent Feeldoe acquisition. And if he decides he isn’t, thanks to the Kegel’s required to hold the damn thing in, I’m pretty sure I could snap him in half with my vagina.

    Then: Heather crowned me Queen of Anal in May, which was a title I took very seriously, because I loved buttsex. Really loved it. And my boyfriend loved it just as much. We were an anal loving couple. And a couple who loves anal together, has many orgasms together. Or something like that.

    Now: Yep, still love anal. And ass worship. Oh, did I forget to mention my boyfriend worships my ass? Huh. Maybe I should write about his ass fetish.

    Then: I met my soulmateclone for the very first time in August 2012. It wasn’t poetic, it wasn’t overly dramatic, and it damn sure wasn’t a Mary Tyler Moore moment. It was so much better. There was booze, lots of booze. And upside down corsets, power ballads, and videos of my boyfriend’s cock. Oh, and dungeons and cheeseburgers, because we’re fucking classy.

    Now: We’re still soulmateclones, we still drink booze and we still eat cheeseburgers. And sometimes the wrapper, because we’re still fucking classy. (And there are still pics of her boyfriend’s cock. We have a scrapbook! ~Heather)

    * * * *

    Nikki and I both want to say how much we value you, our readers. Without your comments, feedback and interactions here or on Twitter and Facebook, we would be sad vagina writers indeed. You make this all doubly worth the effort. Thank you from the bottom of our sassy southern hearts, and we can’t wait to hear from you in 2013. Happy New Year, y’all!

    A Sexy Vagina Surprise… Er, Surprise from our Vaginas? Oh hush and read!

    To help celebrate our wildly successful first year, we’re offering a gift card to Eden Fantasys worth $75 of sinful sexiness. Just leave a comment at the bottom of this post, and at the end of the month we’ll be selecting a commenter at random as our winner. Speak now or forever hold your orgasm!

    Category Randomness | Tags: ,,, | 27 Comments

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