Linger

i wait for him to finish his shower, steam escaping into our bedroom like tropical mist, reminding me how cold it is. i am calm and breathing deeply. i feel self conscious in my jammie pants and sweat shirt, maybe i should change into lingerie. the water stops and large droplets fall from the faucet, announcing the end of his shower. several steps and he is there. using the towel to ruffle dry his short chop of hair, he dresses, even though i plan to undress him several minutes later.

throwing the heavy comforter aside, he cozies in beside me. kiss of lips, kisses on neck, sucking of breath, escaped sighs, touches of tongue; the dance has begun. clothes disappear and damp flesh presses to flesh. from foreplay to hard and fast. loving long, greedy and hard. i cry out and melt. he collapses. we linger.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/17/daily-prompt-linger/

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Fighting Within the GLBTQ Community is “Gay”

gay hate 2Last time i checked, the GLBT community wasn’t REALLY passing out toasters. Last time i checked, we weren’t required to have membership cards for our sexual preferences or any awards for JUST HOW GAY/BI/STRAIGHT/TRANS someone is. And if there is a newsletter or Facebook page displaying what is currently politically correct, please, sign me up, because frankly, all of this shit is confusing.

if one more person tries to tell me how i SHOULD be- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person tries to tell me that i’m not THIS enough or THAT enough- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person states how it IS- when it concerns MY LIFE- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person changes the terminology of things on me- I’m gonna flip my shit.

THEN there is the P.C. police. and the gender police. and people telling me what is ok to say when I only just got used to saying things the way I did from the LAST time they told me what to say. Please stop, my brain has turned to Nutella.

I don’t remember getting a rule book when I came out over 15 years ago. I probably missed that class too.

Rather than sit there and TELL ME what to do and what NOT to do, maybe, JUST MAYBE, focus on living a happier life and focus on helping the community. maybe. JUST MAYBE, stop telling people what to do.

I remember when the only thing you had to be mindful of was not saying that something was “GAY” to refer to something negative. Now, the list is never-ending. The following list is just a sampling compiled from my Facebook Friends-

“i hate fags.” “she’s a big dyke.” “he’s not manly enough.” “her hair is too short, she has to be a lesbian.” “she should just come out of the closet already.” “it’s totally a guy- just look at IT’s hands.” “bisexuality doesn’t exist.” “i’m a gay man, and i still hate fags.” “i only date girly girls.” “shemales.” “he’s flaming.” “she’s only a lesbian because she never had good dick.” “i hate straight men.” “he’ll never pass as a guy.” “being bisexual just means you are confused and can’t commit.” “he has boobs.” “Cis privilege.” “what the fuck is CIS gender anyways?” “i don’t need any straight people on my side.” “Bisexuals need to pick a side, already.” “I hate the whole gay rainbow thing.” “bunch of fucking tranny queers.” “nelly fag.” “i don’t date HIV+ guys.” “the trans community needs to stop riding the coattails of the Gay Community.” “i bet HE takes it up the ass.” “gay for pay.” “the word TRANNY is an insult, DON’T say it.” “he’s just a man in a dress.” “the whole uhaul joke.” “is pansexual a REAL thing? i’ve never heard of it.” “since you are bi, you can’t be faithful or monogamous, because you’ll always want the other side.” “aren’t all transexuals just cross dressers?” “they’re straight. what do they know?”
“trans people don’t belong in the community, because it’s a gender NOT a preference.” “if you are trans, you shouldn’t be stealth. you should always be trans.” “she’s only doing it for attention.”

WHO MAKES THIS SHIT UP? you know who? we do. WE.DO. It’s bad enough to be called names and condemned by the closed minded people of the world, then we have to fight against people and organizations like the Westboro Baptist church- but now- we are FIGHTING WITH PEOPLE IN THE GLBTQ community. We need to STOP fighting with each other. Let’s take all of the wasted energy calling each other out and making useless rules to work together for a more supportive community.

gay hate

Taking Back “Tranny”

I am tackling the whole “TRANNY” issue, once and for all.

fag.
homo.
dyke.
queer.
cunt.
tranny.

My mother used to let us swear as far back as I can remember because she always said that words were just words, and it is true. Words ARE JUST words. People give power and meaning to words, they do nothing on their own.  Without added emotion, feelings, and images to represent it, a word is just a bunch of letters hanging out together.

If the word is meant in an insulting way then, yes, it is negative. No one wants to hear kids saying “that’s so gay” when they don’t even know what they are saying. But I’m talking about people making the blanket statement that “TRANNY” is a bad word, because, no, it isn’t.  “Tranny” is the shortened form of “transgender” and also “transvestite” which are indeed two different things.  I can assume and understand that a transgender person doesn’t want to be labeled incorrectly as a transvestite, but neither term should be considered offensive; neither should cause embarrassment, shame or anger if applied incorrectly by mistake. Now, I’m not sure when using the term “TRANNY” became shameful or insulting, but just even within the last two weeks, I have been told more than a dozen times by a handful of different people that it is.

You can make ANY word positive or negative. What you CANT DO is TELL ME that the word is wrong based on YOUR opinion, because, to me, that says that YOU have a problem with the word. And I’m not even using the argument of “only trans people can say it”  like the whole “only black people can say ‘nigger'”. Yes. The word has very nasty negativity behind it. I personally flinched every single time it was used in Django Unchained, because it was MEANT to be demeaning. It was SUPPOSED TO BE NEGATIVE. But if someone wants to reclaim the word and USE IT TO BE EMPOWERING- who are YOU to stop them? Who are you to tell someone that a word is wrong or right, positive or negative?

fag.
homo.
dyke.
queer.
cunt.
tranny.

These words have been RECLAIMED. And fucking rightly so. Many hate crimes have resulted and much blood has been lost over WORDS. These words STAND FOR THE FIGHT. They say “I WONT BE FUCKED WITH ANYMORE.” They say, “I used to be afraid. I used to hate hearing someone call me FAG, but I WONT LET ANYONE BULLY ME ANYMORE. I am a fag. and I am proud to be a fag.”

Rupaul made the word “TRANNY” a household word, and for that I am grateful. Rupaul fought her way to the top. It is NOT YOUR PLACE to tell her that she can’t be proud to use the word TRANNY. It’s NOT YOUR PLACE to take away someone’s hard fought battles. It is NOT YOUR PLACE to put people back in the closet, or back to being afraid to walk down the street wearing whatever they want. Even if you are trans, IT IS NOT YOUR PLACE to take away someone’s courage and strength. If you are offended by TRANNY, then maybe change how YOU look at the word before you EXPECT everyone else to be offended by it. Instead of being afraid of words- look to those that HAVE ACTUALLY SUFFERED to earn the RIGHT to be fags, homos, dykes, queers and yes, even TRANNYS.

gay-left-04

draghttp://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/transcript/stonewall-transcript/

Sex Positive!

i’m not here to tell you what to do with your saucyparts or your goods, but we all need to finally realize that being SEXY and SEXUAL is for everyone- no matter what body type, shape, gender, sexual preference or part of the rainbow! boy parts, girl parts, dirtybits, trans, no-no spots, special purposes, whatever!

because we all need a little boost now and again- here are some AMAZING sex positive tumblrs!
i guarantee you’ll find something to make you smile! (among other things.) ENJOY!

oh- and these are SERIOUSLY nsfw- so wait until you get home where you can (ahem) view these with more privacy *coughs*… because you will!

http://fuckyeahsexpositivity.tumblr.com/
http://queersexpositive.tumblr.com/
http://sex-positive.tumblr.com/
http://sex-positive-bitches.tumblr.com/

love your body! love yourself! be sexy! be pervy!
ADMIT THAT YOU LOVE SEX! ADMIT THAT YOU ARE SEXY! LOVE YOUR BODY! CHERISH WHO YOU ARE WITH! BE SAFE! and LIVE LIFE TO IT’S FULLEST!
(didnt i just say i wasnt going to tell you what to do? but these are good things- and you should do them!)

HAPPY WEDNESDAY!
HAPPY SPRING!
HAPPY MAY DAY!
HAPPY BELTAIN!
HAPPY SEX ALL!

sixty-nine.

sixty-nine.

by *Miss Theresa*

Yes. I am going to talk about it. I’m going to talk about the infamous “69”.  I don’t remember when I first heard about 69- it was probably in middle school, but I do remember whoever was telling me, took great pains to explain that the “6” was one person and the “9” was another. That was all fine and good, people being numbers and all, but I didn’t understand why people were giggling about it. I wasn’t very good in math, and failed Algebra once and dropped Geometry, so what the hell did I know? X=Y after all.

Time passed, and I was now in high school, and by then I had lost my virginity.  Sex became a little more than just “doing it” and sort of actually almost started to feel good (and the women out there know what I mean.)  High school sex is more about the guy getting off and the girl just being in dreamylove with this boy they are letting poke at them for 10 minutes.  My (loser) boyfriend at the time was talking about 69 and I remember KNOWING that the “6” and “9” were people.  I felt IN on this dirty little secret!  The numbers are PEOPLE!!!! I yelled to myself in a sexually SOYLENT GREEN type of way.  But, what these peoplenumbers were actually doing was still very much a mystery. Eventually my boyfriend finally let me in on it, and before I could really figure things out, he initiated it.  Welp.   He demonstrated in the “best” way possible (for an inexperienced teen for had NEVER actually done anything but missionary, of course) – and we awkwardly began the dance that is 69.

I remember thinking that the commencement of the aforementioned position was beyond awkward, unceremoniously crawling up on each other, and bony knees jabbing ribs and feeling stupid.  I felt weird and claustrophobic, and of course, only being a new young slut at that time was still self conscious about, well, you know, letting a boy *whispers* (put his mouth down there) and then, to add nasty insult to filthy injury- he actually put his “stuff” near my mouth, and then, EXPECTED me to you know, give him, you know! I mean, REALLY!  Ghastly!

And this was what the fuss was about? All of this awkward discomfort? I remember it was about three minutes before I decided it was the dumbest thing ever, so, he more than likely shot his load someplace I didn’t want, and that was the end of 69 for awhile.  INTO the “NOT-MY- THING” CABINET WITH YOU, SIXTY-NINE!

69 was whispered about and giggled over all through my college years.  Occasionally I was lured into participating in it again, assuming that since my lovers were getting more skilled, that 69 would finally be what everyone was raving about… because… you know, “yer getting head while yer giving it- what could be better?”  Welp, I’ll tell you what’s better than some idiot making you “soixante-neuf.”  Anything.  Anything is better.  Gardening, going to the library, embroidery, clogging.  ANYTHING is better than the ol’ 69, especially with a boy that until that moment had only seen it in HUSTLER or heard other fakers bragging about it being the END ALL of SEXUAL EXPERIENCE.  It was all so scandalous, and SO taboo, it HAD to be great. I mean, “dude! She’s blowin’ you while you got yer mouth on her. It’s aweeeesome.”

Well, it wasn’t.

More time passed, and my disillusion grew.  I still heard so much fuss over 69 and finally figured that maybe I was the weird one; that clearly I found, dated and screwed every single lousy lover in the city of Pittsburgh.  I started to resent 69, as if it was some rare pearl that I would never obtain.  People talked tough about the ol’ “dinner-beneath-the-bridge” and I just felt unwelcome at that party, so it just became one more thing I never understood, like chess, cars or computers.

I hit my sexual peak, and incidentally found myself divorced and on the market.  This lead to a whole lot of interesting-ness, and my old foe- the “double header” was back in my playin’ field.  I had heard endless giggling, and so much big talk from my female friends, that I KNEW, I was missing out.  Again, giving AND getting?  Shut the front door!  You know it’s good girl!

Now, I had come a long way (no pun intended) from that stupid little wannabe slut messing around with stupid inexperienced boys in basements and cars, and one of my first established SEX RULES was that “I NEVER PLAY EVEN-STEVENS”- which translates to- just because I’m doing you, doesn’t necessarily mean you need to do me, and vice versa.  Sometimes it’s fun to focus on one partner, other times it’s all in (no pun.)  Because of my “TIT-ISN’T-NECESSARY-FOR-TAT” rule, I felt that 69 was not aiding to my cause of sexual independence.  I could be a woman and get mine, without giving, and that was pretty empowering.  This pretty much left 69 in the darkest corner of my closet along with the KAMA SUTRA book which I never understood and that horrible rabbit vibrator thing- that hurt a lot more than it pleasured.

In my thirties sex was pretty much in EVERY CONVERSATION EVERYWHERE and was totally unavoidable, so I had to define myself pretty quickly, picking and choosing from the sexual buffet BEFORE it came up.  My turn on’s and off’s, my do’s and don’t’s, condom preference, gender preference, past partner resume, what have you.

Again, lots of talk from lots of ladies- and I even fell prey to the whole, “oh yeah, I totally get off blowin’ a guy thing”– which, when honest, really means, “I really just want him to like me.”  Eventually I admitted this to myself, and although I like giving head to guys, honestly, it’s not within my TOP FIVE on my ol’ sex menu. *shrug*

More and more time went by and I finally got to the point where I am now- which is “I’m almost 40 and I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me” (which, between you and me and everyone over there, is a REALLY nice place to be) and do you know what I’ve found?  I am NOT alone in the “I just don’t get the whole 69 thing” category.  In fact, I have YET to meet someone who honestly and I mean HONESTLY enjoys the whole “flip flop double marriage” thing.  Now, I know what you are going to say, “But *Miss Theresa* I LURRRVE 69!” of course you do, honey. We all do in the sense that it’s sex.  But I’d bet with the right partner, you’d enjoy fucking in mud too, BUT you actually love a bunch of other positions more.

After all of the hype, I finally found someone that I enjoyed 69 with.  I did.  And they didn’t kneel on my hair, or make me feel like I was suffocating, or make me do anything with their ass, or bruise my lungs or kick me in the face, or say “I’m too heavy” or stop every 30 seconds saying “are you ok?”  but the reason it was different, was because I would do anything for this person, and so “loop de loop” was as good as anything that I could have done or have gotten done at that time.  When it happened it wasn’t as if I shattered the SEX CEILING or unlocked the mysteries of pleasure or anything like that.  It was what it was, our mouths on each other, giving and getting at the same time.  It was nice.  And it was good.  But it wasn’t a fistbump at the gym or a check mark on my POSITIONS I HAVE TO TRY card.  And it certainly wasn’t worth decades of secret snickering, giggling or pedestal-sitting either.  Now PEDASTAL SITTING… there’s a position.

So I’ve blown the lid off yet another taboo.  And I know, I know, that’s what she said, however, I spent a long time worried that I wasn’t in on the secret, and I find out 30 years later, I wasn’t really missing out.  Mystery Solved.  Now, I’m expecting a few angry emails from women still claiming to LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE giving blowjobs.  No worries, ladies.  Your secret is still safe with me.

indescribable.

by *Miss Theresa*

i wanted it, so badly, but was still not aggressive enough to just take her. i have to hint around here and there; touching and teasing, being stupid and unnecessarily shy. i finally saw my chance to get in there for a kiss. *sigh* those kisses planted on superbly soft lips. thin, perfect, almost absent lips… smooth as the lips of her pussy…. perfectly sensual, gentle. Sigh

i love to kiss her. usually it’s a struggle between wanting to receive and give. we get into rhythms and just kiss and kiss and kiss until i cant breathe, until i don’t want to breathe anything but her. breathe everything into her. so we kissed and she kisses and i licked and i bit. she put her mouth to my neck and she sucked my skin. i breathed her kisses and her words and she swallowed my sighs and we loved and melted into each other.

there is a power struggle, but we give over easy, knowing the prize is full climax and explosion of sensation, and no one really loses. she starts to lick my aching nipples, nipples desperate to be held in her teeth. her mouth moves along my body, to places that need to be explored…. and bit, and marked and bruised by her mouth and lovingly violated with her teeth. her hands rest in places that set my cunt to fire. her teeth do things that make me melt into puddles. her sighs make me want to cum the moment the sound escapes those delicious lips. my own sighs seem detached and far away….

her sensuality makes my body writhe with an exquisiteness that makes me feel foreign and strange. she uses no force but once her arm comes up and around my thigh to lock me in place, her mouth can go directly to where we both want it to be.

an instant of white hot liquid lights up my clit, and radiates to all parts. my body shook, causing my hand to grasp her shortshort hair and rock her mouth further into my cunt and her mouth was waiting waiting waiting to put her tongue back to my cunt, but instead her whole mouth enveloped my clit and warmth spreads through my vulva like a hot coals crackling under a blanket, fighting to catch and burst into flame. gods…. fantastic.

Come Out!

gay_parade_500New Feature!

because we all had to start somewhere. what’s your “COMING OUT STORY?”

did you come out to everyone? or just your friends? how about your spouse?  have you found yourself “switching teams?” or even switching back? whether you came out as gay, lesbian, bi, trans, pansexual or any other part of the rainbow there is someone that can relate! message me, answer some questions, and i’ll help share your story with others! (and we’ll keep you anonymous if you choose.)

what’s your story?
theresawordshore@yahoo.com