December Dick Patrol
I am the answer to his pathetic prayers.
What would you do if you had an entire day to yourself and could do whatever you wanted?
My First MFM, by Lisa
Lisa shares what made her first MFM threesome so very hot!
Out About Being a Sex Worker
Are you out about being a sex worker? Why is it such a big deal?
What Makes a Relationship Real?
Is it living together? Being monogamous? Getting married?
Trading Despair for Hope
Fired from my job. Sued for my sexuality. About to lose my home. Running out of options, I grew desperate.
By Kendra Holliday | December 12, 2013 at 5:30 pm
My wife and I recently decided to open our marriage. Unfortunately, I’ve run into a problem: women don’t seem to want to get involved with a man who is in an open marriage.
So far the three women who I’ve approached, although they admit being attracted to me and interested in the idea, have all given me some variation on the same objection: they’re worried about hurting my wife or causing harm to our relationship. These women know both my wife and me, and they aren’t willing to even acknowledge the possibility that talking to my wife could resolve their concerns.
I can’t help but find this fairly insulting. These women seem to be substituting their own judgment for mine and my wife’s, and telling us that, as much as we might think we’re ready for an open relationship, we will inevitably fall victim to jealousy and bitterness.
Now, I can understand that some women may not want to take any risk of being responsible for that, no matter what the people in the relationship might say, and maybe there’s nothing I can do to change those women’s minds.
But how can I best explain that they don’t have to worry about causing harm to our relationship—and that even if that happened, it wouldn’t be their fault—and how can I maximize the chances that they’ll overcome their feelings of unease and be willing to get involved?
I asked a couple successful poly guy friends of mine for their 2 cents, and their combined answers added up to at least 2 bucks! Here is J’s take:
“Why not approach women who already identify as poly themselves and have other already established relationships? You can join a poly group in your town and mingle with like-minded people.
Of course I realize that’s a tough pill to swallow when you’ve already got what seems like three perfectly willing takers–if only it weren’t for their warped view of his wife, the mutual understandings they may have in their relationship …or what, on principle the sanctity of his marriage to her? Yeah, honestly I’d feel somewhat insulted by these assumptions of overreaching responsibility and risk too.
By Kendra Holliday | December 12, 2013 at 4:49 pm
A while back, Matthew bought me a lingerie set that included fishnet stockings, lace panties, and a bra. The bra was too tight on me, so we had to find a replacement.
In Salzburg, we were within walking distance of a super quaint village nestled at the base of the Alps, and that village had a secret, narrow alley that revealed a bunch of fancy shops. It was like Diagon Alley for rich tourists – cobblestone, bustling with people, beautiful signs and storefronts. There were also beggars on every corner, and street performers, and delis with huge wheels of cheese and red meat galore.
We found a lingerie shop, and voila!
It was originally 53 euros but was on sale for 16.
By Kendra Holliday | December 12, 2013 at 3:45 pm
Guess what Matthew got me for Valentine’s Day?
|A peek inside the manjunk.|
It was definitely a gift for both of us, but you better believe I was thrilled that for the FIRST TIME EVER, my male partner was taking on the responsibility of birth control. I mean, BESIDES just slapping a rubber on.
For years I’ve ingested artificial hormones, endured alien objects wedged in my womb, had fetuses vacuumed out of my uterus, burned my vaginal lining with spermicide, gained weight from injections, tricked my body into thinking it’s pregnant, and more.
Finally, a man stepped up to the plate and underwent an invasive, life altering procedure so that I wouldn’t ever need to worry about getting pregnant again (so long as I fuck him).
I’m honored, in awe, and incredibly grateful.
By Kendra Holliday | December 7, 2013 at 8:37 am
One of my clients is into some pretty raw dog shit. He is VERY creative sexually, not to mention a total masochist.
He fantasizes about many things, one of them making it a government mandate that the sex lives of men will be controlled by women, starting at age 14.
At the beginning of this month, he implored me to come up with a game plan for his dick for the rest of 2013.
This means I get to control how many times he has an orgasm, as well as enforce some choice cock torture.
So without further ado, here is our agreed upon schedule for the month:
Dec 1 – He begs me to assist him in controlling his sexuality
Dec 2 – I agree, for a $$ price
Dec 3 – Skype session. I don’t allow him to orgasm during call, but instruct him to cum on “something weird” afterward and send me the pic. (Scroll to bottom of post to see what he came on!)
Dec 4 – Incorporate his ejaculate into ice cubes, then have cocktail with them – Cheers!
Dec 5 – Cock measurements daily from here on out
Dec 7 – Measure and slap cock, all day long
Dec 8 – No orgasm allowed today. Must go to titty bar for the sake of frustration
Dec 9 – Shock balls 20 times at level 65 with dog shock collar
Dec 12 – Fire and Ice Day – alternate between dipping balls in hot water, ice them, apply Ben-Gay
By Kendra Holliday | November 29, 2013 at 11:31 am
Yesterday, I had one of the best Thanksgivings ever.
I got to spend it blissfully alone.
Years ago, I had a solitary Thanksgiving where I stayed in bed all day and read a pile of glossy magazines and ate whatever I wanted, and it was indulgently awesome. But that time, I was renting a room in someone’s house, and this time, I got to spend it in my very own house, which made it even better.
My daughter was with her dad celebrating a traditional Thanksgiving, and my partner was out of town with his family, also celebrating traditionally.
I almost never get time to myself, and I’m always driving around everywhere. Ugh, I hate driving! Day job, two appointments or events a night, having a kid, dating multiple people – phew! As an introvert who chooses to engage in many extroverted activities, I sometimes fantasize about being a shut-in.
What would you do if you had an entire day to yourself and could do whatever you wanted?
Here is what I did.
I slept in. I lounged in bed. I wore mismatched comfy clothes and had B.O.
I did NOT allow myself to reply to any emails or do ANY work. I forced myself to take a break. Lately, my inbox has been like a bunch of wolves howling at the moon. And I am the moon.
The one email I did write was to my partner. I sent it to him early morning. It was a long list of gratitude / things I love about him. Such as:
- you turned me onto GoT even though it is gross, dark and scary. But it is awesome.
- you remind me of King Robert, Ned Stark, and Kol Drogo, and even Tyrion! but not Jaime or Theon
- your magnificent beard
- your magnificent confidence
- you don’t mind me fucking other men
- you can dig my cuckquean fetish
- you spank so well
- you make me FEEL…
I pulled a dusty old external hard drive out of the basement and went through it. I found all kinds of pictures I forgot about!
Here are pics from a Glitter Party.
I don’t even know who that guy is.
Holy shit I look like my baby sis in this pic! I don’t remember the woman behind me, but I know we made out that night.
By Kendra Holliday | November 28, 2013 at 12:42 pm
When I first shared this story six years ago, I thought it was super badass. When I read it now, I think, what the fuck? Did I really do that? Um, trigger warning? This took place in the early stages of our relationship. We were exploring BDSM, our limits, each other…
I’m on the rag.
Matthew tells me to wait for him in his bed. I’m wearing a tampon, panties, and nothing else. I’m curled up all soft and warm, and wake when he comes home from another late night of carousing. Whiskey and manscent fill the room. I hear him shedding clothes, his heavy breathing. He climbs into the bed, and embraces me. I sigh contentedly and wiggle into him…
He smells blood.
He starts pawing at me.
“I thought you said we were going to cuddle,” I say in a small voice.
“FUCK YOU,” he growls in my ear, and starts yanking my panties down.
In the back of my mind I realize that’s the name of this game, and it’s time to face the music.
He crushes me with his weight. He is so big, easily two or three times my size. I feel like a sparrow pinned to the grill of a truck, the engine roaring and hot.
By Kendra Holliday | November 24, 2013 at 5:43 am
Here is another magnificent guest post by Lisa, the woman who wrote about being poly and single!
One of the obvious advantages of being polyamorous is the opportunity for sexual variety. I am blessed to have a few regular lovers and one that is on a more occasional basis due to schedule conflicts. I have excellent communication with all of my lovers, and especially with my lover, K, with whom I have a deeper romantic relationship. One of his turn-ons is hearing about my sexual adventures with others. (Lucky me!) Nothing turns him on more than seeing and hearing me cum in general!
Recently as we made love, he expressed the desire not only to watch me being screwed by someone else, but to also join in the fun. We agreed that we’d definitely be open to the opportunity if the right situation presented itself. The next time I heard from John, my occasional lover, I remembered that he had told me in a prior conversation that he enjoyed group sex. Perfect!
Coincidentally, all of our schedules just happened to work out on a night in October that K and I had been at a Halloween party, so the fact that I arrived to John’s for the threesome dressed as a slutty cop added to the fun! I channeled my inner sexy corrections officer and teasingly offered to cuff my guys.
We all sat on John’s bed and marveled at his incredible 125 gallon salt water aquarium. Something about the soft glow of the fish tank combined with the gurgle of the pump was hypnotic and soothing and set the perfect mood for our lusty group encounter.
By Kendra Holliday | November 20, 2013 at 6:00 am
|You really did a number
on my vagina, baby
A guest post by SW, a 29-year-old mother…
For some strange reason, I didn’t think about the horror of what would happen to my crotch from having a baby. I guess I figured people had more than one kid so it must not be a big deal. Plus, with all the fisting, double dick fucking, etc. out there, I figured the thing’s made to stretch. So I was really blindsided by the horror my poor nanny experienced.
I had my son nine months ago. I gave birth at home naturally with two midwives attending. Moments after he was born, as we lay in bed staring at our golden accomplishment, I wanted badly to have sex with my husband. It struck me as a strange thought but I really wanted to. I felt closer to him and more grateful to him than ever before (or since really) in our marriage. There are no words for that moment.
But there was a lot of tearing for me. I had a “button” hole in my labia, which sounds all cute and sweet but in my case amounted to something a dick could accidentally find its way through. I’m sure there’s someone with a fetish out there for that, but it isn’t me. While I was prepared for childbirth with no drugs, sewing my girl parts with no drugs is another fucking story. The pain of a needle going into your labia to numb the area is excruciating.
So I was less than thrilled when six weeks later, all the sewing had to be repeated in the midwife’s office. When, at 15 weeks postpartum, I needed my labia sewn a third time, I sucked it up and paid the OB for the drugs and the “comfort.”
By Kendra Holliday | November 15, 2013 at 6:19 am
I received an interesting letter the other day:
I was reading an article on your website where you talked about what life was like for you when you lost your job and the whole legal issues with your marriage. I was going through the list of jobs you have done to pay your bills and one caught my attention: ‘sex work’.
What was your thought about being a sex worker before you actually found yourself in the profession and now that you’ve been through that what do you think of it?
Was it an easy transition for you to make?
I’m glad that you have a job now and can pay your bills and take care of other things but I was wondering if you could make more money being a sex worker, would you leave you current job?”
Such a good question!
Well, here’s the long and short of it: I have a full-time day job. After taxes and benefits, each paycheck is about $1000. My monthly expenses are about $3000.
That means I need a part-time job to supplement my income. It’s hard to swing that when you have a kid, as your schedule needs to remain flexible. I do some writing and consulting gigs, but to be honest with you, I couldn’t get by without a couple of intimate sessions a month.
In other words, I still do sex work.
By Kendra Holliday | November 11, 2013 at 5:12 pm
“So when are you getting married?” my friend’s mom asked me. She knew I had been with Matthew for a few years.
“We don’t have plans to get married,” I told her.
She responded dismissively, “Oh, so you don’t have a future together.”
Whoa! This was coming from a woman who has been miserably married for almost 40 years. She nags her husband constantly. She ridicules him in front of company. She curses him for his every quirky habit. She decorates the entire house girly country chic, leaving him one tiny office where he can play Solitaire on the computer until she yells at him to fix something. Which is about every ten minutes.
What kind of future is that?
A lot of people react with bewilderment when it comes to the nature of our relationship. They think we’re play partners, not life partners. They ask, “Where’s your ring?” I reply, “I have a collar.”
When I first thought of writing this post I was in rant mode, but I guess I can understand the confusion. Our relationship is socially atypical. We are not married. We fuck other people. We live in separate houses.
In order to legitimize a relationship in our society, you have to live together and get married.
My ex-husband doesn’t think we’re serious because we don’t live together. Neither does my 86 year old friend. He’s constantly trying to hook me up with his recently divorced doctor son, despite the fact that he’s met Matthew and his son is probably gay. If he knew I was a slut, he wouldn’t want me in the same room, much less same family.