Bucket Resolution


I do not make New Year resolutions nor do I really have a solid must do bucket list.

What usually happens is someone says something that I find interesting and I say “I would do that!”

I read a lot and there are times I will read something and say to myself “I am so going to try that!”

Other times I can be watching a blooper video on Youtube and think “I would never …”

However for the most part it is a combination of them all with creativity and out of the box thinking that gets me into most of the adventures in which I find myself. Around the Chateau it is not out of the ordinary for either one of us to stand up and shout out a challenge of trying something new for the sake of it! This is why we have primitive weapons and dwellings all over the property.

I am reminded of a commercial I once saw, a group of friends fall out from a car packed with camping gear and they arrange their site around a beautiful fire. All of them then pull out their smart phones, take a selfie, pack up, and leave the park. I have a friend that continuously sends me picture of her food, every bloody time she goes out to eat something, like I don’t know what a fucking hamburger and poutine looks like. There are still modern behaviours that baffle me but I think they are supposed too.

Going out and doing something, with other people creates the bond of experience, doing something on your own can be fulfilling, both however leave one with a sense of achievement; either way there is a story of your own worth reflecting upon sharing and at best perhaps inspiring someone else.

Falconry Classes: I am afraid of things flying at my face and birds are still unnerving dinosaurs to me but I could not pass up the chance to do it; two birds kind of thing.

Axe Throwing Class: I like axes in my video games, Canadian lumberjack blood floweth through these veins, and it is scary in a bad ass ‘oh my god that woman is throwing an axe’ kind of way. Awesome.

Tree Top Trekking: Zip lining through the trees like a hairless flying squirrel. Who would have thought!

I was never comfortable with saying I don’t like something that I had never tried, clearly if I had taken part in a particular activity and didn’t enjoy it no one would be able to challenge me on it – I have a girlfriend that seems to hate everything but has yet to leave the couch and do anything.

At just over forty I feel pretty good, I am still finding new things to experience, some for the first time, some all new because of the person I am doing them with; I am lucky to meet good people along the way, some of whom do these things with me. I will soon be celebrating another birthday and I am not pressuring myself on anything grand but I have a few ideas for what I want for myself, not just this year, not because it’s 2018 but what will contribute to my whole life experience.

My blog, letters and pictures are never going to be a top selling autobiography, there is no legacy to preserve but at the end of the day I like tucking myself into bed, in the dark, with a huge smile on my face. There is no better feeling in the whole world than overcoming something that was terrifying, that I thought myself too old to achieve, the wrong sex, or not smart enough to do. In fact if it makes me nervous or I don’t fully understand it I am going to continue to run at it head on and I have found resolve in failure – even those are great stories to share.

Well unless it is learning to swim, I kind of tip toe with that one but in good time.

Happy New Year

Thanking you this holiday season

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Pyx Picture 2017

I am the sort of person that is highly considerate during the holiday season, I do not think all gifts need to be expensive or purchased for that matter, I like being able to make something for the people I love and like; my husband has a not so square crochet blanket that took me a year to make.

Okay fine, it took me two years to make it and I had to start it over 3 times.

A friends with benefits does get the sexual part of the deal, surely that relationship has its own limits and borders. However I think given the current climate in dysfunctional relationships, to included blurred lines with friends with benefits, it is a nice idea to reward the ones that get it right; we are on the same page at the same time and we make no demands of each other.

No I am not learning a new stitch and making anyone a blanket, that would belittle my endeavor to set my husband above the rest, but more importantly the gesture of reciprocity should be in line with what one is being thankful for; time. Time has value and we know when we are being placated in a text or email or blog comment.

Yes even I require a level of stimulation, not only visually but an activities partner if you will. I am not poking at anyone who does not meet the standards that I set out for them, there is nothing forced about being friends with benefits – at least there shouldn’t be. It has not gone unnoticed that he’s does put time into entertaining me and in turn himself but what is to be rewarded is he does it without expectation of being given something in return.

I know, you can roll your eyes guys, I am after all married to a guy who has very succinctly explained to me the numbers game and theory behind the cock shot on in the internet and in emails.

The only way I could come up with, how to say thank you, was a picture and a container of brand new coconut oil and the invitation to slip and slide with me in front of the fire. I mean I guess I could throw some tinsel in there but tis the season to get thankful and creative and creative I am.

And you can never go wrong with boobs under the tree.

So where is the logic with that?


 in the hole2

Pyx Picture: toilet paper roll. 2008


Let me get this straight.

When I say safe sex I do not mean to simply eliminate the risk of pregnancy (did that medically) but infections and other such shared conditions.

Condoms, yes do help eliminate some if not most of those and it is a personal belief of mine that shaving everything bald makes one more susceptible to higher rates of infections without proper natural hair barriers (CDC), plus I like my bush but abstaining from certain activities also ensure I am clean and safe. Until I get to know you a bit better.

Before we fuck you are going to put on a condom.

If we have anal sex you are going to use a condom and before entering my pussy you are going to put on a new one; what goes in the back does not go back in the front.

What logic is it then that you would think I would give you a blow job without a condom.


Because it’s just my mouth – the thing on my face that people see first. I kiss my family and friends with, that shares a drink/food with people I know and where my words come from (very important hole for me).

I get it, I am a strange creature that means what she says and I pull out a flavoured condom to wrap your dip stick with before I put it  in my mouth when others girls probably do not. Yay for them! I am up front with it; I am more apt to offer a hand job or boob job over head and I don’t swallow so … suck it yourself if you like.

[ I once watched a video of a guy that could suck it himself, it was awesome watching him get shot in the face and some got in his eye, it was impressive. I laughed and laughed. ]

If I put your unwrapped dick in my mouth why would I insist on wrapping in my pussy? I mean let’s think on this please – I can still get herpes, gonorrhea and my risk for throat / mouth cancer increases with exposure to HPV. Just because a few of these things can be cured with medication does not mean I don’t wash my hands so I don’t get a cold or after I go to the bathroom so I don’t get sick; and other people sick.

If dick cancer existed I bet some guys would not be so light to bargain with protection and the meaning of playing safe.

Honestly this is why I never insist guys go down on me, I am not walking around with a dental dam, I know where I have been but I also respect the definition of SAFE SEX and if I wouldn’t I don’t expect them too.

I’m a Cockhound of the first order, I love having sex, but I don’t want it to kill me either. I do not need to knock on wood, I worked diligently at a clean record and bill of health, fuck I am like a bitch with papers. Do not get me wrong I understand the risky sex factor but I get a say with what risks I take.

If you balk at using condoms with me, means you dont use them with other people and it is not going to happen with me – nothing wrong with saying no but the lack of reasoning with some is baffling.

Logic people.

Use it or get some.

Is there an APP for that?

In search of the Grizwold’s


Me: Every town has one, a family that over decorates for the holidays.

Him: this is our adventure? Locate and RECON on the Grizwold’s?

Me: yes! It will be fun, come on, we will grab coffee.

[ almost an hour and a half passes ]

Him: So can I ask you something?

Me: yes, anything, be prepared for an honest answer.

Him: I don’t know how to read you, how do I know if it is okay to kiss you?

Me: Yeah, I get that a lot. If I get out of the car when I drop you off, it’s a good sign.

Him: I feel like a teenager. I am 43 and this is my first date.

Me: I am so sorry, I had no idea, I would have put on a dress had I known

[ laughter ]

Me: Well here we are. Let me get out and make sure you get to your car okay

[ kiss ]

Him: Thank you for getting out of the car.

I wanted to kiss you 6 lawn baby Jesus’ ago.

Do you hear that a lot too?

Me: You’re welcome, getting to first base

on your first date is a good way to start things off.

Praise the Lawn Baby Jesus!


I will treat you well …

white shirt … if I want.

The Dean is a rather unique little creature that wandered in by happenstance. Though I do not have a type he is strangely fascinating; physically he resembles my younger husband, has the playful, yet attentive, disposition of my past lover PC and reminds me of the sweet vulnerable All American, together wrapped up in the most delightful flannel wrapping.

We stay in regular contact, I keep it to email and not text – it is not uncommon for me to get an email first thing in the morning responding to a previous message or he will share a picture of his waking condition under the covers. I like that he is a tease and I let him know it. Sometimes on a Sunday we will spend the day going back and forth with short playful hints of anticipation. He appeals to my artistic sensibilities; nothing is fleshy obvious.

It felt appropriate that I show him a level of gratitude, I never asked for him to give me his attention, send me pictures of his plaid boxers nor did I ask him to admit it was the thought of me that brought about a telltale wet spot but I like that he did. How does one say thank you for the level of class he manages to express and show me in comparison to others who might otherwise be far too bold or abrasive with their lusty intent?

We set the time for an evening in before he had to leave town and I made him dinner. I chose to greet him wearing only a revealing blouse. His smile made me smile and I could tell my gratitude was well received. Of course he was wearing the plaid shirt and boxers that had been the subject of a couple weeks worth of back and forth and all that eagerness was quickly grasped onto with two sets of hands and two mouths at the front door.

Sometime later we ate dinner at the table and he shared with me a bit of his private life which given his mild manner was new but not overwhelming for me. He then asked if we could play video games, we sat on the couch legs braided together – he in his boxers and me in nothing but a blouse.

I watched him from time to time, tempted to put down my controller and take him back in my mouth because someone could think ‘who wouldn’t want to get a blow job while playing video games’ but to me he seemed comfortable and content sitting together like this. I felt that doing so would have been intrusive; after all it is a form of request or invitation.  I had already made up my mind to show him my gratitude and sitting there laughing together post coital, relaxed, fed and happy; I felt I did just that.

Oh and I was well behave gaming too, I didn’t once tell his video game character to put down his gun and pick up an apron to go and make me a sandwich, he was actually not a bad player. I might keep him.

I found your blog!

bbvcxI would imagine if you went looking for it you would Sherlock. This is not a work in fiction, though I am at time less actively posting, I am living a fulfilling life in silence but I assure you these pages are no secret.

In fact I am pretty sure my inept lawyers are or have tasked some poor intern at their office to watch this space.  Stultus.

Truthfully I never much thought of the people I am in contact with putting me into a Google search engine, but I am not so proud as to not admit that I am or was somewhat naive to how technology was going to progress. I hate that everything is connected, that my Xbox and my smart phone talk behind my back and that I hold a level of paranoia when it comes to texting and not being able to delete something. I don’t trust the immediacy of it all let alone the impulses of the person on the other end.

For my own sake I make sure that what opinions I express or things I say here I would say directly to another human being if we were face to face – no regrets there, I have met with enough writers, followers and stalkers over the past 15 years to know how to handle myself. I know what and who is worth my time and what is not.

I am not the internet police, the rest of the population gets to dictate their own actions as they see fit, I can only do me.  For the sake of the people that trust me I make sure that what I share about them  is a mere shadow of who they really are, so vague that even if they happened upon my blog they would have to read hard to figure out which character they are. No, not all of the people I write about know I have a blog nor do I ask their permission – they get a character title of my choosing and I use it defectively.

Nothing here is real time, this blog remains anachronistic and impulsive, some of the lovers or experiences I write about happened some time ago, some as recent as last week but that has no impact upon my capabilities and how I reflectively share them. My marriage intact through these experiences and how I choose to represent myself, a woman of the west sexually liberal choices in action are of my choosing, no one asks me to write this and I do not get paid to do it.

There is no use in trying to make me feel bad for what I get up too, what I write, or what I think because if I cared what you thought I would have given you the link myself. Sure it is out there for anyone to read but it’s not about you anyway. It doesn’t change who I am but rather how you see yourself or chances with me.

I never asked them if before following the blog link they asked themselves if really wanted to know … maybe they thought this was a blog about baking cookies or stamp collecting. Though I could make an entry on licking the back of stamps erotic I get the feeling some of them just assumed I was all talk.

I wonder if they regret looking at it now.

I get the feeling some of them do.

The Iroquois is wise


“Oh you know when things are good sex is only 5 percent of the equation and when things are bad sex is 95 percent of the equation. It seems we don’t fuck enough”

My Iroquois Warrior

My Iroquois Warrior is a fine specimen of human genetic mutation on an epic scale; there is no way he was not chiseled out of an iceberg after being molded by the hand of some divine creator. He stands at least 6 foot 6 inches and shoulders you could build a nation upon. Muscles that roll like calm ripples on the water hiding a more subtle force just under the surface, never bulging for attention.

Perfect teeth that you hate to see smile back at you and eyes so alert that they do not miss a quiver on my lip which tells him more than I ever would.  Bare skin so soft, you would almost think him prepubescent if it was not for his native extraction which affords him being hairless.

If I could clone him and gift him to middle aged women across the land I would for they would rejoice in the glory that is a man built to fuck. And on the seventh day they would require rest and sustenance for they have only been feasting upon man flesh, sweat, tears, spit and semen. Vulgar but true – all you need do is look at it and he comes back with a vengeance for more abuse. Half of the time I do it a third or fourth time just to see when it will send up a white flag of surrender, but it has yet to do so.

He sometimes gets covered with a slick layer of sweat and I like to run my hand over his shaved head and taste how salty he is off my fingers and imprint his scent on my brain. After only two encounters things took on an intense chemical reaction, explosive and borderline dangerous and like a thick poisonous cloud it hangs there in the air. Most of the time I want to paint him in traditional colours and mud, stalk him, hunt him down in the woods and sacrifice a part of him to some ancient deity; panting and moaning a quivering shaman’s chant.

Oh he barely says a word nay one of pleasure and complimentary but you can feel his body throbs with each intense heartbeat, his chests heaving with even hotter breath into my open mouth and upon it a map that allows me to read the stars behind closed eye lids.

Then he leaves and knows not to write me till the following week when we do it all over again.