Labour and, um…….. sex?

26 weeks pregnant today, which means in about 6-8 weeks I’ll be having the discussion with my doctors about exactly what to expect in Labour and discuss my options. To be fair I’ve been thinking about this ever since I decided I wanted a baby. Do I go drug free, or do I get all the drugs in the world? Do I ask for a caesarean section or try to give birth vaginally? There’s so much to think about!

It something the ladies on my online support group have been talking about for a few weeks now, and this morning was no different, until a lady shared a link that was given to her by a friend. It’s all about having a sensual birth, and well, using your orgasm as a pain relief method. Yeah, you read right.

Personally I cannot wait till I got into labour, because it means I’m one step closer to meeting Flump and getting to finally meet my baby! I also believe that the act of birth is a pretty amazing thing, the experience of a baby being born is really awesome and they say that once you hold your baby the pain of the labour and delivery just disappears.

That said, after watching some of the midwife/pregnancy/childbirth documentaries, labour looks horrendous and painful and I’m glad that it’s already decided that I’m having a low dose epidural, because, OUCH! What I’m definitely NOT having during labour is any kind of sexual activity, because, WHAT?!?

So tell me ladies, what kind of pain relief are you going for when you have your babies? No Drugs? Gas and Air? Epidural? Masturbation?!

 

 

sex, cheating and trains

It’s not polite, but people do it all the time. Reading over the shoulder of others that is. Especially when you’re standing and the other person is sitting. Even more so when a few explicit words catch your eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, I did it. I read over the shoulder of the man next to me on the train this morning, but in my defense I couldn’t help it! He was sitting and I was standing next to him. He was texting his wife, and the word “sex” caught me eye. I couldn’t not read it. And then, well, I just got sucked into it.

The gist, which I tweeted about this morning, was that he’d clearly been caught having “extra-marital” sex.
Her texts were all “I want it to be just us.” and “no more touching other people, just me” and his replies were all “yes, just you and me” and “I only want to have sex with you”.

Then he moved from his iPhone to his Blackberry and responded to a BBM message from another woman.
The gist of those messages were “I miss you” and “I can’t live without you” and “I want to die”.
His replies were very nice and caring, very much “don’t do that, you’re a special person” etc.

Then he moved back to his iPhone.
The wife had sent another message. This time along the lines of “I love you so much, you make me feel sexy, I can’t wait till we try your fantasy”.

The guy, he looks up and I’m thinking “uh-oh, he knows I’m reading all his texts over his shoulder!” BUT he looks around for a minute then looks back down (not noticing me!) and types “yeah, I love you so much too. I can’t wait. There isn’t anyone on the train that meets our requirements. Maybe the next train.”

Um. Did I just read that right?!? This guy is trolling the morning commuter trains for other people to have sex with him and his wife?

Just goes to show, you never really know what your fellow commuters are thinking about (unless you read their text messages over their shoulders).

In hind sight I probably should have picked a random lady in the carriage, bent down to him and whisper whilst point at said lady “what about her, she seems nice”.

Normally I’m not one to judge others but wait a New York Minute here. Lady, you catch your husband cheating on you, and then you forgive him and indulge him in his fantasy of a 3way?
Fuck me! Not literally of course, but you know.
Either you’re a very understanding and forgiving woman or you need a backbone and perhaps someone to help you get some self-esteem back.

I understand that you love your husband, I get it, I love my husband too. But if I ever found out that he’s been having it off or had it off with another woman, you can bet your ass that I’d be signing divorce papers quicker than he could say his own name. (word of warning dear husband)

Once you’ve smashed someone’s trust it can never fully heal. It’s like smashing a tea cup. You can pick up the pieces and glue them back together, but it’ll never be fully fixed. There will always be bits that have gone forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A marriage has to have trust, in fact, so does every friendship, otherwise how do you expect it to work?

So my question today is; Ladies, if you found out that your husband/partner/boyfriend/wife was having an affair with someone else, what would you do? Would you end your relationship, or would you hold on to your man/woman with both hands and indulge his/her fantasies.

But wait, I have a second question, for you Men; Men, do you really use commuter trains to find sex buddies? If so, how do you approach someone? How do you approach an absolute stranger and ask them if they want to have sex with you and your wife.

 

FOR SALE : one pair of used panties

Ok, so the blog title is a lie. I’m not actually selling my worn panties. Although based on the research I just did, it seems as though I’m in the wrong job! Apparently there’s a market out there for used/worn/soiled/musty/wet panties. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

My best friend and I have some really bizarre and strange conversations. We have done since we were 14, which is why, I guess, that we’re such great friends. We can talk about everything and anything and not worry about being judged or ridiculed.

Tonight’s conversation was about jobs. Finding stuff that we really want to do and stuff we really enjoy. I jokingly said she should become an Ann Summers rep, or write erotica, or even became a phone sex operator (they make big bucks!).

I watched a documentary on phone sex operators and most women do it from home, and can make a fair amount of income. Think about it, you spend all day on the phone, you can catch up on your ironing whilst telling someone that you’re not wearing any panties and that you’ve been a naughty girl and need to be spanked. It seems that some men pay big bucks for these types of phone calls. So essentially you’re getting paid to stay home, in your pyjamas, catching up on your ironing and making the odd moan of “you like that?” down the phone. Easy money I’d say. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d laugh my arse off, I’d totally do that kind of job.

Anyway, I digress. I told my friend that she could probably sell her used panties on eBay. It seems that there’s a market for that too. Mind you, I’m not surprised, if there’s a market for men who want to be sat on by 300 pound women, then why not dirty panties. I even found out that there’s a market for used underwear that’s been squirted with breast-milk. Mommy issues maybe?!?

Think about it, you can get some really nice feminine underwear for as little as ¬£1. (it’s not like you plan to wear it for a long time anyway) You wear the panties,and then someone buys them. On my research I found a woman in the UK who sells her used under garments for ¬£23 a pair. There’s a profit to be made here. And it cuts down on laundry, because you won’t need to wash your pants. You just pop them in an envelope and mail them off.

Somehow I don’t think either of us will change our careers from what we’re doing now to selling our dirty panties on the Internet, but in this economic climate I guess it’s an option.

Imagine explaining that job on your CV.

A joke

Cletus is passing by Billy Bob’s hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door, he sees Billy Bob doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old green John Deere.

Buttocks clenched, he performs a slow pirouette, and gently slides off first the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left. He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease move, lets his overalls fall down to his hips, revealing a torn and frayed plaid shirt. Then, grabbing both sides of his shirt, he rips it apart to reveal his stained T-shirt underneath. With a final flourish, he tears the T-shirt from his body, and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay.

Having seen enough, Cletus rushes in and says,

“What the heck are you doing, Billy Bob?”

“Jeez, Cletus, ya scared the bejeezers out of me,” says an obviously
embarrassed Billy Bob. “But me’n the Ol’ Lady been havin trouble lately in
the bedroom d’partment, and the therapist suggested I do

‘something sexy to a tractor’.”

[Don’t make me have ta splain this to you!]