Painless Fellatio Position

Little Deeper Cushion

Husband and I have a varied and healthy sex life.  That includes fellatio.  I don't have any philosophical problems with it, since we believe in variety and Husband greatly enjoys it, but I've always had a physical issue.  Although I've had a bit of jaw pain every now and then, it was fleeting and vanished in a few moments.  However, no matter what position I was in, I ended up with nasty muscle pain in my neck and shoulders.  I could go for about 10 or 15 minutes before the tense pain showed up.  If it was a day where he was taking 20 or 30 minutes, I had two options: push through or stop.  If I pushed through, I'd be sore.  If I stopped, we'd both be disappointed, although Husband always says I'm free to stop if I need to (and sometimes I do).

We've experimented with different positions.  Laying between his legs, both on our sides, him standing with me kneeling, him sitting and me laying, him sitting and me kneeling, me sitting with him standing...the list goes on.  Then I started reading some better sex books, and even some that were all about fellatio.  My technique improved, but no matter what, the neck and shoulder pain came.

And then...and then...I found it.  The position.  A position that I can stay in for a half hour or 45 minutes with no pain and no lasting soreness.  Not only do I not get sore, but we're able to look at and touch each other without anything in the way.

This magic position involves Husband slumping on the couch, with his upper back against the back of the couch, his butt forward, feet on the floor, knees wide.  Meanwhile, I'm sitting on my Little Deeper Cushion with my rear on the higher part, and my legs folded on the lower part.  The cushion is very, very important.  Not a pillow, not a towel, but specifically the Little Deeper Cushion.  It holds me in the perfect position with little to no stress on my arms, shoulders, and neck.  Now I'm much happier and more willing, which makes him happier, too.

Tantus Splash Review

~I received this item at a discount in exchange for an honest review.~

Tantus has always been on my sex blogging radar.  Most bloggers sing in praise of their high-quality, silicone products.  One day, I wondered how many of their products I already owned.  Five?  Ten?  I checked my toy box and was shocked.  One.  Just one.  Just the Ace that I bought long ago, when I first started exploring toys.  I owned one product from one of the most reputable, sex-positive, customer friendly, quality companies.  How did I let this happen?  This must be fixed!  I set my sights on the Splash.

A little bit about it:  The Splash is a textured, silicone dildo that is O-ring compatible.  It starts with a wide, pearly white head about 5.5" around (by my measurements) that tapers down in size until it reaches the purple base, totaling about 7.5" long.  It's covered with texture that changes as it goes down.  Near the top, there is a series of mild ridges, followed by smooth, raised drip designs.  Past the drips where the color changes from white to purple, the texture also changes from smooth to slightly rough, almost grainy.  I know "grainy" doesn't sound like a very pleasant texture, but it's the closest word I can come up with to describe it.  It's not an uncomfortable texture, just different from the super smooth drips.

What I loved:  The Splash is one of those toys that's both simple and elegant.  The smooth drips are just present enough to be felt, but not so much texture that I find it overwhelming.  It's almost a massage kind of feeling that stimulates all over, instead of just one specific spot.  The drips are kind of like elevator music: it's pleasant, but not the main event.

The ridges near the head, meanwhile, command a little more attention, but still not so much that they are uncomfortable.  The ridges aren't very deep, but combined with the gentle curve of the shaft they are simply amazing for G-spot stimulation.  The ridges drag across my G-spot, but in a good way.

The firmness is just right.  I'm one of the many people that need firm pressure on my G-spot to get any sort of sensation out of it.  The Splash is firm enough to deliver, but at the same time, the silicone has a little bit of give so it's not completely unforgiving.

The size is wonderful.  The head, shaft girth and shaft length are large enough to be filling, but not so huge that it's unwieldy or challenging.  Please note that I do tend to like larger toys, so my "not huge" may not be your "not huge."  However, I will say that if I had to classify it, I would say that the Splash is a toy on the larger side of medium.  For me, that makes it a great go-to dildo when I want great stimulation but don't want something so big that it takes a warm-up.

What I didn't like:  I don't really have something to say here, but if I were pressed, I guess I would say that it would be nice if it came in other colors.  Purple/white mix is the only option at the time of this review.

Final thought:  Worth it.  The Splash runs about $75, which I know sounds like a lot for a toy that doesn't even vibrate.  I thought so, too, at first, but I was quickly won over.  The size, shape, texture, all of it is just perfect.  I don't have to say this toy is good for ____, but not good for _____.  It's filling but not overly so, has great texture but not to the point that it's irritating, great for G-spotting, and is firm enough to allow pressure with just a bit of pleasant give.  It's easy to clean, body safe, will last a really, really long time, and is just fantastic.  It's easy to buy a curved dildo from another company for less, but I guarantee that it won't compare to safety or quality.

~I received this item at a discount in exchange for an honest review.~

And Then I Got a Piercing Part 3

Looking for Part 1 or Part 2?

You'd think that once I had the actual piercing done, there'd be nothing more to say.  Maybe I'd have to deal with some infection later on or something.  But really, all you have to do is take a look at my Bedroom Misadventures to know that things tend to go wrong around me.  Seriously, yesterday I was stepping into my flip flops and fell backwards over a nightstand and into a wall.  Not only that, I am a chronic, obsessive worrier.

So I was lounging with Husband on the bed, exhausted, spent, and enjoying the attention of my hot, redhead husband that suddenly couldn't keep his hands off me.  He asked me about how I thought the piercings look.  I glanced down at them, and was suddenly horrified.

"They aren't straight!" I gasped.

"What?  They look fine."

"No, they don't.  LOOK.  This one is crooked.  It angles this way.  And look, this one angles that way. They both go diagonally inward, like a V.  And look at the left one.  It looks like she got way too far onto my actual nipple."  I was starting to panic that my body may reject the piercings and/or I'd have to have them redone.

He laughed a little at me, but had to admit they did sort of angle inwards, and one did look like the hole was a little far out.

*Sigh.*  This is about to get a little embarrassing, but I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you the whole truth of the matter.  There was nothing wrong with the piercings.  They looked a little odd because, well, skin moves.  And nipples are sometimes erect, sometimes not, and depending on how the skin is laying will affect how the piercing looks.  Later on in the day, they looked like they were angled the complete opposite way.  And the one piercing that looked like it was out too far?  It moved back into it's proper place.

Of course, I still had to get through the day.  Husband kept his promise and took over the more heavy/dirty/sweaty chores from me.  In addition, he did listen to me complain.  A lot.  But something else happened, too.  He kept sneaking glances at me.  Slyly, trying to hide it.  I'd never seen him do that.  I finally told him that he's allowed to look at me, and is welcome to look if he wanted to.  Since then he has occasionally asked me, just at random times, to see the piercings, and I, enjoying his reaction, occasionally offer to show him.  And, the sex has been amazing.  I'm not saying that to brag or be crass, but it's an important part of the story.  I had new, heightened sensitivity (and novelty, and oooh, shiny...) and he had a new visual stimulant.  Doesn't take a genius to figure out how those go together.

But I'm getting a little off topic.  Anyway, in the late afternoon of that first day, I took a shower.  I heard a small sound.  Just the tiniest plink.  So quiet that at first it didn't even register that I heard it.  I was rinsing off, turned around to face the water, and then I saw it.  A teeny, tiny metallic something on the floor of the tub.  For a second, I didn't make the connection.  I looked down at my new piercings.  One of them was missing the ball on the end.  The drain holes on the tub are really big.  Then it all clicked.  I rushed to grab the ball before it was lost forever down the drain and screamed for Husband.

"What, what is it?" he said.

"The ball came off!" I said, completely panicked.

"Oh.  Well, put it back on," he replied, completely calm.

Put it back on.  Sometimes, I'm an idiot.  But my fingers were wet so I had to have him do it.  From that point onward, every time I do the routine thrice daily washing of the piercings, I give the balls a little tighten to ensure this doesn't happen again.

By the end of the first day, I was already feeling better.  Most of the soreness had gone except when I bumped them or cleaned them.  When I did clean them, they became sore again for a little while.  Otherwise, after the first few hours after the piercing, I felt better.

Until bedtime.

I happen to be a stomach sleeper, and the piercings were most certainly in the way.  I spent a fitful night trying to stay in sleeping positions that just don't feel natural to me.  Even when I was asleep, I was vaguely aware of the piercings.  When I rolled over onto my stomach at one point, I woke up minutes later with both a physical and mental agitation.  I slept on and off throughout the night, and when I woke up in the morning, I felt over my shirt for my piercings to make sure the balls had not fallen off again.  I felt nothing.  Panicked, I rushed to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and pulled my shirt open.  Both piercings still there, just pressed against my skin.

A day later, day 3, one of the piercings started aching.  Did I mention I tend to jump to the worst case scenario?  What if my body is rejecting the piercing?  What if I have an infection?  What if I'm getting an abscess?  What if I'm allergic to the metal?  What if this somehow kills me?

See where my mind goes?  Can you imagine what goes on in my head sometimes?  It's exhausting.

The next night, I slept a little better, but still woke up on and off and was plagued by worst case scenario nightmares.  When I felt like I was finally in a deep sleep, Husband snuggled up against me.  It was morning.

"I'm awake!" he whispered.  "I've been awake for a while."

I looked over at him.  "Great.  I'm not."

"Oh," he said.  He felt a little bad.  He really thought I was awake when he, you know, woke me up from a dead sleep.  "You can go back to sleep."

"No, I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm already awake and talking to you."

In his defense, under normal circumstances, I would have woken up long before.  As it was, I felt unsteady on my feet but the time for sleep had passed.  I got up, threw on some clothes, and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.  I noticed my hair was doing a Bride of Frankenstein thing.  I tried to fix it a bit, but gave up.

Husband came in behind me.  "You look tired," he noted.  Boy, was the guy asking for a smack.

The next night I had more nightmares.  I dreamed something had gone wrong and I was trying to call the piercer to see if it was normal or what to do.  I looked at her card, but only found the number of the shop (which in the dream I couldn't call for some reason).  Woke up again, panicked, and again thought my piercings were gone.  Pulled my shirt up and felt for them.  Oh, good, they're still there.  Oh, crap, I just put dirty hands all over my fresh piercings.

I'm tired.  I'm very, very tired.  Mostly because I can't get comfortable at night, and that is definitely affecting my mindset.  Sometimes I think that I am one hot momma, but other times I wonder what in the name of all things I was thinking by agreeing to this.  I'm still working out my feelings on it.  At the moment, I don't love it, I don't hate it, although during different times of day I do both those things.  Perhaps I'll end up loving them.  Perhaps in a few weeks I'll get tired of them and take them out.  I'm not sure yet.

Part 4 to come, but later, after some healing time and when I decide if I like it.

And Then I Got a Piercing Part 2

Miss Part 1?  Find it here.

The morning that would become that morning, I took the kids to school, ate breakfast, chatted with Husband.  Then we went to run some errands together, since he didn't have work that day.  I decided that since we were going out, and the piercing studio would be open soon, we might as well swing by and have a look.

"Just a look," I said.  "I'm not committing to anything other than going there and looking."

"Sure," he said.  But he knew.  Oh, he knew.  An agreement to a trip out there was as good as a yes from me.  He was right, but I wasn't going to say it.

We finished our shopping, although I was having great waves of nausea.  That's my anxiety kicking in.  I knew I wanted to go and at least look, mentally I knew this was my choice and I was making it, but my heart and stomach seemed to have missed the memo and thought I was about to be eaten by a rather large and possibly rabid bear.  Still, I made it through the store, Husband by my side, took a quick pit stop at home, and drove out to the piercing studio.  It's a good thing that it's such a highly regarded place, since it also happens to be the only one anywhere near us.  But, I had done my research and almost everyone had only good things to say.  And I had only really committed to looking.  At least, that's the only thing I had committed to out loud.

We arrived just after they opened.  It was a long rectangular building typical of the older buildings in our area, but had been nicely kept up.  The paint on the outside wasn't very old and the exterior walls were decorated with unique artwork.  There were no windows facing their parking lot, and I assumed it was for the privacy of their patrons.

When we stepped in, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere.  Neat, clean, well-lit.  Posh leather seats in one of their waiting areas, and sleek, modern raised tables and chairs in another, with more leather furniture lining the walls of the second.

A thin, friendly man with short hair and tattoos on his arms asked Husband and I what he could do for us.  At that last moment, my resolve wavered even though I had been sure just seconds before.  I forced out the words, "Thought about having my nipples pierced."

The smiling man didn't flinch, but he did tell us that even though he is one of the piercers and is capable, he prefers not to do female "genitalia."  And of course, being a sex blogger, I immediately corrected him in my head. Nipples are not genitals, I thought.  Going grammar/sex blogger police on him in my head made me feel a little less nervous, which was great, since I had been bouncing between nauseous, generally anxious, and feeling like I may pass out.  I silently tried to remind myself of all the reasons I decided to give this a shot.  The smile I gave the man was the smile I give when I'm very nervous and extremely uncomfortable.

"Our female piercer is running late," the man said.  "I'll call her."  He returned a few seconds later to say she would be there in 10 minutes.  "And worst case scenario, I'll be able to help you," the man finished.  I was really, really hoping that the other piercer would show up soon, not because I cared that the other was a man, but because the man clearly wasn't comfortable with it.  I don't want a nervous person coming at me with a needle.

Husband and I wandered around the shop for a bit, browsed the jewelry, joked about the hipster mustache taped over a poster of an impossibly hot model.  Finally, the female piercer arrived.  She was small, maybe in her mid-twenties, with long hair and multiple ear piercings.  She introduced herself and apologized that she had been held up.  She laughed and smiled and called me hon.  She seemed totally at ease with my request.  I liked her immediately.

"Come on back to the room, and we'll see what kind of jewelry you can do," she said, leading us back to an enclosed interior room, and shut the door behind us.  She gestured toward what I assume would be called a piercing table, which looks kind of like a doctor's exam table, and told me to sit and face her.

"Let me see your nipples so I know what size we need," she said.  It didn't even occur to me to be self conscious.  After two kids and a herd of medical staff gazing at my bits, this did not seem like an odd request.  I undid my bra, pulled my shirt up, and sat as she pulled closed, sterile packages of jewelry from little plastic drawers, and held them up to me.

"You can do these, or these, but honestly, it's been my experience that for your nipples, you are going to want these."  She held up a package with a pair of curved bars that had little balls on the end.  They weren't perfectly straight, but neither was it a deep curve like horseshoes.  Just a slight curve.

"They're a little long," she went on, "but you want that for the healing time.  After they heal, you can change them out for something shorter."

She cleaned both nipple and areola, made a mark with a a dark colored liquid on the end of a toothpick as guides for the needles, and held up a mirror for me to check the placement.

"You're going to feel just the clamps now," she said, picking up a metal pair from her tray.  She latched it onto my nipple.  "You can close your eyes or look away, or whatever you feel comfortable with."  She was short, so I looked up over her head at the wall.

I felt the cold, mildly irritating pinch of the clamps, then the small prick, almost an itchiness, as she lined up the needle with the holes, followed by a sharp, deep pain as she pushed the needle through.  I gripped the table, breathing deep, trying to keep my body from curling forward.

"You're done, you're done, you're done," she said.  By the time I felt the intensity of the pain, the needle was already through.  She left the needle in and cleaned up some blood.

She said something about people thinking blood is gross, but it not being any worse than your period.  I had been nervously babbling all the way through, just talk, talk, talk.  I blurted out, "My period is so heavy I have to use a silicone cup."  Then I realized that her point had nothing to do with periods.  "But...I guess you didn't need to know that.  Sorry, I'm just so nervous."

She laughed and said I was doing fine.

She clamped my other nipple and positioned the needle.  Again, slight itchiness as the point touched my skin, followed by a wave of pain.  Although the second one didn't really hurt more, my body reacted a little more violently.  When I felt the sharp pain, I did curl forward.  My back rounded and my ankles crossed and tucked under the table, both out of pain and so I didn't kick her.  She told me later, though, that she has been kicked in the past.  But just like the first time, by the time I felt the most of the pain, it was over.

"You're done, you're done, you're done," she said again.  She inserted the curved bars into the ends of the needles and pulled them through.  That didn't hurt so much as was uncomfortable.  She screwed the balls onto the ends, and set to work cleaning one of my nipples that was still bleeding.  She assured me that there is often one that bleeds quite a bit.  She had me hop of the table and take a look in the full length mirror.  At this point I was just so glad it was over I didn't care how they looked.  I remember looking at myself in the mirror, but not really registering what I was seeing.  I wasn't sure yet if I was glad I did it.

I was still bleeding a little, so she gave me some gauze to tuck into my bra, all the while she was praising me and telling me how good I did.  She tried to clean me up a little more, I got redressed, and we headed out of the room and to the front to get my aftercare instructions and pay.  Steel jewelry, the actual piercing, plus H2Ocean aftercare spray and tip: $120.

I only vaguely remember leaving.  I was distracted by a constant, deep pain in my breasts.  It hurt to even breathe, but not in an unbearable way.  More like a really, really annoying way.  I happen to carry ibuprofen in my purse and took a couple as we made a few more stops.  We picked up a few more shelf camis and a movie that I love.  Then we grabbed lunch.  We almost never eat fast food, but snagged some burgers and fries on our way.

When we got home, we ate and I just collapsed into my favorite chair.  I was exhausted.  The stress suddenly shed and I felt that all I wanted was sleep.  I looked at the clock.  Thirty minutes until I had to put on my good mommy hat, pick up the kids from school, and help with homework.  No nap for me.

Part 3 still to come.

And Then I Got A Piercing Part 1

I've made no secret about the kind of person I am.  By sex blogger standards, I'm pretty conservative.  It's part of what makes me, me.  I'm fairly traditional in most regards.  I bake, sew, do laundry, and care for kids.  I volunteer.  I even consider myself religious (hold your gasps, please, I've said that before).  I have no tattoos, don't wear large jewelry, and the only piercings I had were one in each earlobe.  It's not that I care if you have tattoos, wear large jewelry, and have 20 piercings.  Other people's bodies are their own and I don't judge.  It's just that those things aren't really me.

I don't really like change.  I agonize over each haircut.  I thought I was taking a walk on the wild side when I painted my toenails red.  I think you're getting a picture here.  And then Husband asked if I'd consider getting my nipples pierced.  What?  Nipples pierced?  No.  No.  Not ever.

And then I started to think about it.  Why not?  Was I afraid of the pain?  Please.  I gave birth without meds.  Surely a piercing couldn't compare.  I started to do research on the matter and found that some claim a piercing made nipples more sensitive (in a good way), there were lots of options, and many people say that piercings don't hurt as much as they originally thought.  Some people claimed that nipple piercing was getting more and more popular among moms looking to spice things up and regain lost nipple sensitivity.  On top of that, Husband got that devious, mischievous look in his eye when we discussed it.  I love that look.  At first I said yes.  And then reality hit me.  Healing time can be up to a year, sometimes more.  Pretty significant risk of infection.  Piercing care would be just one more thing for me to do, and I changed my mind.  Husband was disappointed, but he made it clear that he wouldn't attempt to force me to do anything with my body.

But the thought was planted.  I spent a few days doing research, planning, and thinking.  Some days I thought, yes, I'm going to do it.  Other times, I decided no, it's not worth it.  But what if, what if...

I started leaning towards yes again.  My brain tends to jump to worst case scenario and after some thought I realized that many of my fears about it were kind of outlandish.  And I would get so much out of the piercings, mostly a private celebration of sexuality.  None of my real life (physically present) friends or family would know unless I told them.  It's such personal thing, a way to decorate myself, and the fact that Husband finds it hot is just gravy.  And, since the healing time is so long, if in a few weeks I decide I didn't like the piercings, I could just take them out and let the holes close.

Then it turned out that Husband had a few days off while the kids were in school.  It almost never happens.  Since I most certainly wanted him to be with me, it was a now or never situation.

We came to an understanding.  Since we both wanted it, we needed to come to an agreement of what a piercing like that meant, as far as responsibility goes.

1. I would go to the piercing place and look.  Even though our local studio is very highly thought of, if I didn't like what I see or didn't trust the piercer, we walk out.
2. For a while, any sexual activity or position that would put pressure on my breasts is off the table.
3. Until I'm mostly healed and can handle it, sweaty chores like mowing the lawn (which I had been doing for the most part) are his job.  This may sound like I do more than my fair share around the house, but he does dinner almost every night, as he's better at it.  Me doing the lawn was a happy trade-off.
4. Caring for our veggie garden, which requires a lot of bending over to water and weed, will be his job until I can do so comfortably.
5. I get to have new, comfy shelf camis to help me through healing time.
6. He will listen to me complain about any and all pain with good humor.
7. He will go with me to get pierced.
8. Should I get an infection bad enough that requires a doctor visit, he has to go with me.
9. If, in a few weeks, I decide I don't like it for any reason, I can take it out, no questions asked.
10. Because of my anxiety, there was a good chance that IF I decided yes, it would be spontaneous and it had to be my idea. (Pre-planning increases my anxiety.  More time to think = more time to worry.)
11. I will be taking a few days off of heavier, in depth housework until I can do so comfortably.

These are the terms that we agreed on, but I thought that I still wouldn't do it when it came down to it.  I mean, as fun as having a private piercing sounded, I couldn't imagine willingly allowing someone to push a needle through my skin.  And then, all of the sudden, I said it:  "Well, let's go and check the place out.  It doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Riiiiiight," Husband replied, with that look on his face.  The devious one.  The one where he's about to get what he wants and is barely containing his excitement.

Part 2 still to come.