Every woman wants to be free. She wants to make her own decisions, spend her own money and be indiscriminate when it comes to her own sexual pleasure.  I have mastered the art of freedom.

My desire to be free began at the tender age of 15 when I lost my virginity. It should have been a romantic, wonderful experience. It was a balmy night and we were naked under the twinkling stars. Our youthful bodies were writhing in passion… least from his perspective. From my perspective, yes, the stars were sparkling, yes, the night was balmy. But, where was the passion, the adventure, the loss of my virginity?? Did he actually commit the act of intercourse? Did he know what that was? What was the size of his penis? I know he ejaculated because it ended up on my leg. What a disappointment. It could have been a beautiful way to introduce me to my sexual self.  Instead it became the catalyst to me becoming the woman who was free.

I love being free! Do you know what that means?  It means you can do whatever you like! You can give blow jobs on a beach in Scotland, have sex with a fireman in Hawaii, eat hamburgers in Singapore with your girlfriend or masturbate while driving down Route 66.  It means you can loose your inhibitions and live your life for you.

I particularly love sex. Seriously, who doesn’t! I love thinking about it, I love reading about it, I love doing it, I love watching it. I really love that intimate connection with that someone (or more) special, whose sole focus is to get you to orgasm  (lets face it, they are special in that moment, but they may not be after the act). Of course, I always orgasm! If that man or woman cannot help me get to the ‘little death’ I always just help myself.

On that note, I really need to focus…..on ….. nearly there…………oh!


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