Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Feeling Not So Sexy

Grey hair

Flabby tummy

Menopause doldrums

Stiff joints

Achy back

Weeble-wobble walk


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Sk8cation: Saturday Morning

To read about Friday’s adventure click here


I got my mother-fucking period.


And on my Sk8cation, too!!

That is officially 3 ‘cycles’ in as many weeks.

Before we left I figured I should be safe for a few days, right? Even a few weeks?

Fuck this change-of-life shit!

It actually started at the end of our drive Friday night, but I was hoping it was a fluke and only mild spotting (just like I thought the prior week right before I got period #2).

Nope. It wasn’t spotting. Saturday morning I woke up with another full-blown menstrual period!

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Screw My Hypersensitivity

sensitive-areaScrew PMS (either the pre-menstrual kind OR the peri-menopausal kind, it doesn’t even matter)!

It’s like my brain is thinking and it knows what to do (or NOT to do), but my mouth/body just does whatever it wants *sigh*.

Last night we had a wonderful time just playing the poker machines (I gave him a 90-minute back rub right after we got to the room, then we went to the games). We had one tequila shot (because last week we each had 4 and that was definitely too many, but it made for some AWESOME sex — before Vanilla became the Sahara Desert!) and, for a couple of minutes, it looked like we were going to break even, but we didn’t. Each of us only lost $10, though.

When it was time for us to go back to our room, we talked about food, but it was 10:30 and both of us were more tired than hungry so we just went back upstairs to drink our bottle of Moscato and do some “stuff”.

He headed into the shower because he hadn’t had a chance to yet and I slipped into the Colorado Rockies t-shirt he just gave me. Vanilla got a good lube-ing so there would be no repeats of last week and I laid down to watch Conan. Before I knew it, Loverman was standing bare naked in front of me brushing the stray hairs away from my face (he’s just so sweet sometimes it totally melts my heart).

I grabbed the bottle of wine and he poured each of us a glass. We chatted (he told me that we have probably had sex more times than he and his wife since they started dating over 7 years ago!!! Win for me!) and slowly sipped our wine until after midnight. At one point I even said, “It’s so cool chilling with you.” He agreed with me and we crawled under the sheets together.

His magical fingers found his way to my moistened muff and started gently probing and caressing… It felt so good, and then he began to drift off. I squirmed a little and he woke up and resumed his tender touches. Eventually (you probably know what’s coming, right? BTW – no pun intended ;0 ) he fell completely asleep.

Sadly, here is where my brain was still thinking but my mouth/body had totally stopped listening (surprised?).

My brain was telling me to let him sleep and my body was aching to have him inside of me, loving me, feeling me…

For a while I laid there peacefully watching some really crappy movie with Donald Faison, but the movie was very bad and Vanilla was still rarin’ to go! I got up and went to the bathroom, relieved myself and got a glass of water. Then, I went back and laid in the other bed. Loverman said, “Why don’t you come back to bed, babe?”

“Because you’re tired and I feel so restless. I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Mamacita… Okay…” and I thought he fell back asleep, but really he just got quiet.

The television was pissing me off because there were only 12 channels and all of them were bad (except CBS where Craig Ferguson was just ending and TBS which was playing this super crappy movie) so I turned it off and laid down on the top of the blankets of the other bed. I could feel my feet tingling (“restless legs”, it happens to me all the time. So annoying!) and I really couldn’t lay still. It was bothering me, so why wouldn’t it be bothering my sweet Loverman?

I found out that he hadn’t gone back to sleep a few minutes later when he said, “Goodnight I guess then.”

This is when I became furious with myself. I wanted to get back into bed with him, and clearly that’s what he wanted too, but I didn’t want to wrestle around with the bed-covers in a futile attempt to get comfortable. I knew my legs would just keep kicking and squirming and I would just get more frustrated.

I got up and I started to put on my clothes. My brain was asking me, “What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Do you want to wake him up and have an argument?”

Apparently so. He rolled over in his bed to look at me and asked, “Where are you going?”


“Then why are you getting dressed.”

“I don’t know. I think I want to,” then I started saying mean things about myself: I feel gross, I think I am so fat, etc…

Loverman rose from his bed and started getting dressed, too. In my brain I felt like a total idiot, but now my “instincts” were in full control of my actions and I no longer understood what was happening.

“Please don’t leave, baby. I am sorry. Right now I am having some kind of emotional episode that I can’t seem to control,” I explained. “My feelings are controlling my reactions and I am trying to settle down. Please don’t go. I don’t know what words I can say to tell you how I am feeling.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m just confused.”

We talked again for a while. I tried to understand the emotional barrage that had overtaken me. It was hard to help him understand how I was feeling, too, because I still don’t know what the hell got into me!

Once I had determined that it was probably extreme sexual frustration on my part, I started to calm down — whether or not that’s actually what was bothering me, this answer seemed to calm me infinitely. (I get frustrated a lot because I don’t know when I will get to see/be with him again and I know that next week will be a “no nookie” week. Maybe I just got too far ahead of myself, maybe I was trying to proactively catch up…)

I told him that what I really wanted was for him to return to bed and that I would behave, but I really wanted to feel loved and sexy and he’s so good at that.

Loverman’s response was, “I don’t even know where to start now.”

Trying to break the tension I responded, “You could let me start because I am the one that messed things up tonight?”

“You said you wanted a back rub. Let’s start with that,” he said and I complied by getting settled into bed and baring my back to him.

One of my strongest feelings about him is that I don’t provide for his sexual needs as much as he provides for mine. When I tell him that I feel this way he just grins at me and tells me that I don’t have anything to worry about (and then, most of the time, does something sexy to me 😉 ).

About 30 minutes later my regular back rub turned into a sexy back rub and I started to feel like we were “on track” again.

This is one of my favorite positions with him — Loverman’s too. Coconut seems to fill in all my blanks and empty places with his rigid warmth and it never takes long for me to cum this way. He’s so close against me this way while he lays his entire torso on my back, and then he starts to kiss my shoulder-blades and tickle my back with his beard stubble. It’s heavenly!

Afterward, as I was lying next to him enjoying his tenderness, I realized again how very lucky I am to have a man (who isn’t even technically “mine”) who is so patient and tries to be so understanding with me.

I would say that I don’t think I deserve such a wonderful man, but he has issues of his own. So I think I will continue down this road with him and I will endeavor to handle my emotional outbursts in a more sensible manner in the future.

The Road Less Traveled
by ~LegoAztec on



The “Dry” Incident

Men — this is going to be a post about something ‘girlie’. Consider that your warning and stop here if you don’t want to be too grossed out — but maybe you should read to the end anyway, because I kind of have a question…


Last week I mentioned that there was a “bad part” to our date night last Tuesday. It’s feels silly to me, but I want to talk about it because I totally didn’t know how to react and I definitely reacted badly (I think I am more ready now for when it happens again).

I am going to be 42 next week (the perfect age: the meaning of life) and my mother keeps telling me that I am going to “get menopause” any time now. I think it’s adorable (not!) how she talks about it like it’s a horrible disease or something.

Apparently “early menopause” it runs in the family and she just wants to make sure that I am keeping with the trend (my mother and I aren’t close AT ALL so this would be the VERY LAST thing on the planet that I want to talk to her about — I just read that women don’t even talk about this with their doctors!). Anyway…

Loverman woke up next to me in the middle of the night last Tuesday and tried, very amorously, to wake me up as well. It took me a few minutes to realize what was happening and sadly, Vanilla was fast asleep and didn’t want to have anything to do with Coconut. *I* sure did, but Vanilla was totally dessicated and she wasn’t about to let anything (or anyone) change that! I started to get physically uncomfortable after about 10 minutes and after about 10 more I started getting very upset with myself. Eventually, I had to ask Loverman to stop. It was sad (I was sad)

I got so upset with myself, in fact, that I started crying and (felt like I) needed to leave the bed. Loverman didn’t take it personally and was beckoning to me to get back into bed with him so at least we could cuddle. At the time, I wanted no such thing.


For about 15 minutes I just sat in the chair across the room from the bed, sulking like a baby. Thoughts were spinning around in my head and I didn’t know which ones to listen to. I had just been woken up to something glorious and sexy, but my traitorous body had rejected it. I was so angry at Vanilla that all I could do was fight back the tears of failure.

I was completely upset with my hormones (or lack of). I felt betrayed by my own body!
I was thinking about how much of a let down I was (both to myself and to Loverman), knowing the entire time, that I wasn’t letting anyone down, it is just my body changing.
I was frustrated as hell that I wasn’t able to perform sexually for/with my partner and he was really into me that night.

But, it didn’t take long before I wanted to get back into the warm bed with Loverman and feel his strong, forgiving arms around me. I can’t believe how emotional I get about such uncontrollable things. I curled up next to him, with tears in my eyes. He had fallen back to sleep (see?!?!? It didn’t bother him at all! He didn’t take it personally…) and woke briefly when I crawled back into bed. “It’s okay, Mamacita. We can try again in the morning,” and he curled up behind me, drawing both his arms around me and he held me tightly in his arms as we both drifted back off to slumberland.

Is this how men feel when they can’t get it up?