Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

‘Move It or Lose It’ or ‘Why Your Sex Drive is Like Federal Grant Funding’

I have a theory that your sex drive is a bit like grant funding. If you don’t use it, next year they’ll give you less. For those not from the United States or those who may not know the Federal Grant Funding system, let me explain. When you apply for grant funds, you have to estimate costs for everything you intend to do. However, if you end up spending less than what they give you, when you re-apply the next year, they will give you less. They assume you don’t know how to estimate after that and undercut you. And, once your budget has been cut, it’s very hard to justify more again.

So, what if your sex drive is just like government funding? If you don’t use it properly you slowly lose it. Slowly getting less and less every year until it completely disappears.

My personal experience has been strangely both in favor and against this theory. When I was vanilla I had no sex drive, or one hardly worth measuring. I guess it doesn’t really disprove the theory as I was starting at nearly zero. The sex drive government had nothing to take away. Then I found kink. My sex drive went into overdrive. Since embracing my submissive side I have craved sex daily, usually multiple times a day. Given the chance, I would love to just be locked up in a hotel room for a few days with the occasional food and sleep break.

Lately, however, my sex drive has started to slow. My husband’s depressive slump has killed his interest in sex. I have tried to take care of things myself, but I find myself losing the plot as other things continue to take priority. At the end of the day I think about how I could have found time for more sexy times, but by then it’s usually too late.

So, as we enter into Masturbation Month, all our priorities need to re-focus. Obviously quality should always take precedent over quantity, but taking the time is equally important. Just think about if past performance were responsible for your sex drive in the future? Don’t let an allergy or work stress have a long-term affect on your attempts of lovely orgasms.

Give your current self and your future self all the lovely ‘O’ faces you deserve this month. I’ll be glad to help where I can to keep you from losing funds next month 🙂

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Poly Problem #53: Sharing Porn

Because Jack and I live quite a distance apart, we generally chat on twitter or via text. We talk mostly about our families and how much we want to be fucking each other at that moment. Jokes and kid’s quotes get shared for the other to read when the other wakes up. The time change, while annoying, is manageable as we both put in the effort. As with any long-distance relationship, it takes work.

We also share a lot of photos. Most are selfies, taken during our conversations to depict a certain mood or response. I’ll admit to sending quite a few boob pics and if I think my hair looks particularly good that day I’ll see if he agrees. Basically our relationship is a bit of a teenage romance for me. Except with a lot more dirty talk and mutual masturbation. So, nothing teenage about it. And I’m sure it depends on how you define romance. I’m a beer and burgers with a B movie kind of girl rather than a wine and escargot with opera.*

There are also a number of nudes and dick pics. I don’t want to say how many, we’ll go with a lot. Some videos too. Many saved on my phone for occasions when I need a little help (not help doing dishes, if that’s not obvious). I still maintain, hearing him moan my name as he cums is the hottest thing. Which is my not so subtle segway into today’s Poly Problem – Sharing porn.

Jack and I were chatting the other day, as we often do. Conversation turned to sexy things that he’d like to do to me (one of my favorite topics). A steamy photo or two were exchanged and I asked him if I could have another video. I have a thing about watching him jerk off. He will send me a video from time to time, often with a good moan of my name included. I have a great one from when he was here in December on loop right now. Getting a new one is always a gooey present. This time he had an interesting response:

“Sure I can send you one. It doesn’t have any names in it as I sent it to Jill earlier. Does that bother you?”

I said it didn’t bother me and he sent the video over. I enjoyed it and didn’t give it another thought until later that night. Getting ready for bed I pulled the video back up. I thought about the fact that he had made it for Jill. That he had sent it to her first. I felt like I should be upset, but I couldn’t pin point why. I mean, I would love to have Jack all to myself for an extended period. But at the same time, I respect that we have separate lives.

I would be lying if I said that knowing that Jack sent the same photos to me that he sent to every other woman he talks to doesn’t bother me. There are times when I want something to be just for me. To have a piece of him that I don’t have to share. I’m hoping that’s normal. But does it bother me if I get a video/photo/etc. that someone else has seen? It certainly didn’t make it any less hot. And it’s not like I haven’t sent him a photo that I had previously posted on twitter or on here.

Is there an expectation with all things intimate that they be exclusive to the recipient? This falls back to one of my previous posts about thinking about someone else when you are having sex. Does that apply to masturbation as well? If you shoot a video or photo of an erection that you got while thinking about someone other than who you send it to, is it less sexy?  I don’t think so, but I guess I could see how some people would think so. The rabbit hole on this can get deep very quickly.

I think maybe this is something to be sorted out with your partners on a case by case basis. Depending on how many people you play/flirt with, it may not be an issue. But to ensure that everyone feels special and appreciated when they are with you, it would be something to be up front about. I’m pretty relaxed about it, but I’m not sure I’d be thrilled to get a video with Jack moaning someone else’s name. Though, honestly, I would probably just mute it and grab my Doxy. Hey, when you find something that works for you, you don’t ask why.

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*Though as a completely random note, I love The Pirates of Penzance. I can be classy…sometimes.

Have you ever noticed how…

Taking a shower is just like masturbation:

Rye stepping into the shower.

  1. You always want to stay longer, but then your fingers get pruny. There is just never enough time and the pruny thing can be difficult to explain at work.
  2. There are all sorts of bottles of lotions and liquids to make it more fun. Cause you’re worth it!
  3. It’s fun with a friend. Or more 🙂
  4. It’s best with the lights on, feeling warm and comfortable (this may just be me). As an exhibitionist, I do love a good show.
  5. Touching yourself all over is optimal. And fun.
  6. A child walking in ruins the whole thing. Trust me, personal experience.
  7. Toys can be fun. Come on, you all have a rubber ducky, right?
  8. Hair can sometimes make the whole process take longer. And sometimes that’s a good thing.
  9. You can never spend as much time doing it as you want. I mean, sometimes my kids just won’t accept cereal for dinner.
  10. To feel refreshed, it’s best if done every day. A good mood and smelling clean are necessary for being the best you.


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Our Poor Water Bill

I laid out the towel across the duvet. I was in too much of a hurry to put the clean clothes away, so I stacked them at the foot of the bed. The toddler could wake from his nap at any moment so I didn’t have much time. I grabbed the Doxy from my night stand and threw it on the bed. I considered leaving my shirt on to save time, but nipple play sounded too good and I was soon completely naked.

His message had come through an hour before, but chores had to be done before I could stop to let it sink in. He was coming, and sooner than I ever thought possible. The tickets were purchased, the hotel room booked. He was coming to Ohio to visit me in less than three weeks; I had a lot to masturbate about.

My clit was already throbbing as I spread out on the towel. I was so close to cumming I had to start the vibrator on low so I didn’t ruin my own orgasm.

Thinking about seeing him again was so erotic. Obviously fucking him; I had been craving his cock since we parted in October. This time we were going to get two nights in a hotel and one night with Sir at home. The amount of fucking would be epic. But, even more so, we were going out on a date. A dress up, order taken by a waiter, footsie under the table dinner date. I could feel my orgasm building.

I rubbed the Doxy up and down my clit as I grabbed my inner thigh. Then I remembered all the extra effort to take off my shirt. I grabbed my nipple and practically bucked off the bed. Within moments I could barely breathe as my pussy convulsed. Frustratingly, I was right on the edge. I let go of my nipple and plunged as many fingers as I could into my cunt.

Immediately my orgasm crashed into me. I began squirting all over my hand. Containing my moans became impossible. The splashing between my legs continued as I pressed the Doxy harder against my clit. It felt like my entire body was vibrating with pleasure. Eventually, my moans and writhing stopped. I put the Doxy back on the night stand and collapsed on the bed. In a perfect world I would have taken a nap to truly enjoy my few moments of bliss. Sadly, however, one of the many people in my house would be calling for me soon. Inevitably needing something that, of course, they couldn’t manage to get on their own.

As I begrudgingly sat up I let lout a squeal of laughter. I had managed to ejaculate all over the piles of neatly folded clothes. Apparently, my estimation of my own distance capabilities was more than a tad off. Upon further inspection only the tops of both piles would need to be rewashed. I grabbed them and my towel and threw everything into the hamper. I quickly got dressed and giggled to myself as I went back downstairs. The next three weeks were going to mean a lot more laundry.

Rye's squirting evidence.

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Say My Name

I learned something new about myself this week as I looked to boil down my definition of romance for last week’s Wicked Wednesday topic. I then got distracted by the election and family stuff that I had to put it aside. Even though I missed the prompt window I was so excited about my realization that I still want to share it.

I am immensely aroused when my partner says/moans/groans my name during sex. There is just something so erotic about that guttural noise. It wasn’t something that I had really thought about before (not clue why). I love inspiring moans from my partner. And I enjoy ‘dirty talk’ in general. But having my name spoken specifically is something I’ve not experienced before.

That sounds so crazy. I know that I’ve not had a very large pool of sexual partners, but it is odd that so far in my sexual life I’ve not met someone that does that. Looking back across my sexual encounters, most of them didn’t talk much at all. The occasional groan or ‘fuck’ was about it.

The trigger for this sexy realization was a video that the lover sent me. A mere six seconds of him stroking himself, but it was amazing. I had watched it without the sound earlier in the day and it was pretty hot. But when I finally found a few seconds without the boys I turned the sound back on my phone. As soon as I heard my name moaned from his lips I was wet. And we’re not talking a slight arousal wet. We’re talking, ‘I need to cum right fucking now’ wet. I was shocked, honestly.

A large part of it was name. I know that sounds redundant, but I mean my real name rather than my social media name. I’m not sure why that is sexier. Maybe just because so few people know it. Since starting my blog and entering the twitter world, there is so much more that seems true about that part of my life. The vanilla aspects of my personality fade. And normally I’m happy with that. I love the escapism that BDSM provides. Being my horny, subby, sarcastic self on twitter is often the highlight of my day. So having him use my vanilla name made it somehow more special. Like he was also turned on by the boring (not really that arousing) parts of me.

Responding to his voice was still a surprise for me though. But his heavy breathing and the near desperation in his tone was everything my pussy wanted to hear. And trust me, after looping those few seconds while masturbating into several orgasms, the rest of my body was pretty happy too. Something in complete opposition to the tone that my kids take when they want something or my co-workers take when they need a favor. And realistically, considering how wet I got when I heard it, it’s probably good that my family and/or work colleagues don’t have such a talent. All the extra orgasms would be great, but my clothes, furniture, and job would probably suffer a bit.

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Lick Me Suck Me Fuck Me

Lick me suck me fuck me

As I walk in through the door,

Lick me suck me fuck me

Until I beg and plead for more.

Lick me suck me fuck me

As I kneel down at your feet,

Lick me suck me fuck me

Make me feel cherished and complete.


Kiss me beat me eat me

Watch me squirm against the rope,

Kiss me beat me eat me

Your grin smothers all my hope.

Kiss me beat me eat me

Say I’ve earned my pleasure,

Kiss me beat me eat me

Your smile is something I treasure.


Whip me loan me own me

As I scream out for your touch,

Whip me loan me own me

You can never ask too much.

Whip me loan me own me

I am a slut at your command,

Whip me loan me own me

I am a groupie to your band.


Love me squeeze me please me

We are a perfect match,

Love me squeeze me please me

We love to have others watch.

Love me squeeze me please me

I love you more than I can say,

Love me squeeze me please me

I am heading up to play.

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A Long Month

I get my Doxy back today! It has been a rough month. I’m sure our electric bill will be at least five dollars cheaper, but trips to fast food have probably gone up to ‘balance’ it. I don’t need my favorite vibrator friend to come, but it does help me come consistently. PIV rough sex makes me all gooey, but when I don’t beg to come before Sir does, he usually lets me finish up with an intense vibrating orgasm. So the last few weeks without that release after sex has been kind of  mood killer. And not using it during our scenes and part of our general play has made a noticeable difference as well.

I can’t even remember what I did to lose it (I just went back and reread the old post). I will certainly monitor my comments more closely in the future. Honesty first, but I’ll have to do a better job not to put my foot in mouth quite so badly.

I think I might spend the evening hugging it, if I’m honest. And a screaming squiring orgasm is definitely in order. Since starting my job I haven’t had a chance to enjoy afternoon delights, with or without my favorite toy. So I guess it didn’t affect me as much as it would have if I was still working from home. I miss my twitter masturbation buddy. He still sends me sexy nudes as he takes care of himself from time to time. But I miss our banter as we push each other to the edge (and back again, repeatedly). Whenever I have thought of missing my Doxy this last month I have thought of him. Dirty talk and vibrations are my weakness I suppose.

I’m sure I will take a break to write again tomorrow. I’ll need to let the poor thing cool off and give my pussy a break. Work is going to seem extra long today though.

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Fuzzy Memories

I danced around the room as I pulled the duvet off the bed. I folded it up and set it on the chair so I could strip the sheets. As I pulled off the top sheet I giggled as I found my bra from the night before. I don’t know how I didn’t feel it by my feet while I was sleeping. But I grabbed it and threw it in with my delicates. The last thing I needed was my raspberry bra to dye all our white sheets pink.

But even as the bra hung effortlessly on the hamper I still could not remember it being lost the night before. There was a comment at one point about how my ass was so red that it matched my bra, but that must have been early in the evening. Several flashes ran through my head as I collected the sheets and made my way down to the washer. As I walked down the stairs, I remember crawling up them the night before. The bra was still on then.

I was trying to be coy as I brought him the riding crop in my teeth. I had crawled to him as I came down from putting the kids to bed. I had been rubbing his arm and grinding against him all evening to let him know that I really wanted to play. But I thought this obvious begging action would be appreciated, and it was. I could still feel the stings as I walked the sheets to the basement. When I came back I curled up on the couch with my coffee mug and my phone. I quickly flipped through photos of the night before, some of which I didn’t even know he had taken. I was immediately aroused just thinking about his hands, toys, and cock all over me. Remembering being kissed and teased as I begged for more had me shaking so much I put my coffee down. I found a video he took of me licking his shaft and I could feel my pussy getting wet.

I was glad that I hadn’t gotten around to pants yet this morning as I reached into my panties and felt my clit swell with my touch. I watched the video again as I rubbed up and down my folds. Flipping through photos of him beating, then fucking, then beating me again. My hands stayed around the perimeter of my entrance until I couldn’t hold on any longer. Two fingers was all I needed to rush headlong into a glorious orgasm. I continued to slowly rub my clit as I came down into a puddle of relaxing goo. I flipped through a few more photos and started daydreaming all over again of the night before and trying to plot out if we could do it again tonight.

I grabbed my coffee for a quick sip and thought about another slideshow and orgasm before I needed to move the sheets.

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Common goals

Rye in bed with a thin night shirt onSir’s rules about masturbation during the day are simple. I can play during the day if the kids let me (not a guarantee). If I orgasm, I have to tell him, but that’s it. I can chat and send pictures to him or others while I do so as well. Admittedly I don’t take every opportunity to do this. Sometimes when the kids are calm just sipping a cup of coffee and clicking through the Netflix cue is nice. But every once in awhile inspiration strikes. Sometimes it’s Sir giving me an order by text to put my plug in for an hour or telling me he’s hard at his desk after reading the day’s blog post. But more often than not it’s a good friend on twitter, asking for a virtual hand.

Rye climbing into the shower
Sometimes we take showers together

We have a great friendship that includes talking about our kids, our jobs, and our amazing nerd fascinations. We are also good at getting each other riled up. Pictures are exchanged of large bulges in pants and bras that aren’t holding much in. Soon clothes are off, hands and the Doxy are working hard. We send encouraging words with our photos as well as updates on our personal progress. I won’t speak for him, but for me, it’s a boost of confidence as I let my fantasies run wild. Touching myself is fun, but being told how sexy I am while doing it is even better.

Sharing fantasies is a nice way to get and keep a solo session fresh. And his dirty talk never fails. Knowing that I am inspiring him and helping him come. It’s amazing how good it is when I read, “That is so fucking hot!” as I let my vibrator work.

Rye's ass with a lovely blue thong.
Showing off some bruises and marks that Sir gave me.

I think this has just been a great way for me to work through my juvenile thoughts on shame and masturbation. It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve been able to enjoy and relax enough to actually orgasm on my own. I think that is one of the reasons that Sir has been so supportive of my twitter fun. He likes the self-confidence boost that it gives me. So do I. I have struggled with body image and sexual shame for years, so the last few years have been an amazing experience. So having the freedom to send pictures and share sexual cravings with twitter friends without fear of judgement is a big step.
I also enjoy the casual nature of our ‘relationship’. We flirt, we masturbate together. Always with a common goal of making the other person feel sexy and desired. But it’s not all about sex. We support and share our lives as well, but hot pictures and dirty thoughts are a large part of it. And that’s what makes it fun.

Rye working toward orgasm with the Doxy
My Doxy and I are quite close

My sexual nature continues to grow with my appetite for sexual experiences. Getting better at knowing my body and my own pleasure is important to me. And having someone to help encourage that process and support it has been amazing. And a bonus is we get to have hard and glorious orgasms together. It’s a win/win.

The moral of this long-winded story is that masturbation can be a fantastic group activity. And knowing that I can help someone come that is three thousand miles away is a good feeling. Certainly a perfect excuse to keep working my skills.

I’m close just thinking about it.

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Semen Fantasy

I wish I could accurately describe my relationship with semen. It’s not really a love/hate relationship. I would be completely lying if I said I loved semen.

But there is certainly a fascination for the simple fact that it’s a product my body cannot produce. And I started thinking about that more and more as I considered the connect to my new oral fascination. I can’t make semen, but I love the idea of it coming out of every orifice I have. It sounds like a fun photo essay for next year.

I know I should rave about how much I love to eat cum all the time. And, don’t get me wrong, I love giving blow jobs, but the last thirty seconds are hardly my favorite part. The swallowing or having cum shot all over my breasts is hot for him in that moment. But it is the build up and the after effect that does it for me. The slow licks up and down a cock. Sucking on the tip. Running my hands along his thighs. And then the after where I can feel the cum running down my throat. Keeping his cock in my mouth as it softens. His body completely relaxing as the orgasm flows into every muscle.

So in all of those senses I love semen. And have I mentioned multiple semen sources? I have a huge fantasy to be surrounded by men and have them cum all over me. Sticky and warm. It’s a great fantasy that has brought me to a wonderful orgasm many times. All that attention as they stroke themselves and fondle me sounds amazing. Maybe Sir would even let me play with myself while I watched. It would be probably have to be that or in some pretty heavy bondage, as I would just want to reach out and help everyone. Joining in to match my moans and see how many times I could come before they do would be quite a challenge. But being allowed to slowly suck on a cock like it is giving me sustained life sounds even better.

The semen is just the icing on the cake. Maybe that’s why they call it frosting….

I just aged myself, didn’t I?

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