When you wanted a scoop of Rocky Road but got a scoop of Vanilla

When you wanted a scoop of Rocky Road but got a scoop of Vanilla.

I sometimes refer to somes sex lives as vanilla. This might need a bit of explaining. Vanilla is “basic sex”, little foreplay, some touching, kissing; maybe some fingers penetrating a warm wet pussy. Possibly some oral (both giving and receiving). Definetly missionary position, maybe the gal on top, but not a lot more than that. Now there is nothing wrong with vanilla sex. Again, as stated in previous blogs, I will never judge any one by their sexual practices, wants, likes, kink or vanilla-ness.

But I’m not a vanilla type of gal. If you’ve ever read some of my past blogs, you would know that I’m far from vanilla. I’m a Rocky Road kind of gal. A Java Mocha Almond Chocolate Chip, a Double Malted Chocolate Crunch, Salted Caramel with Chocolate covered pretzels pieces kind of gal. Top it off with some nuts and whip cream, even better.

Now I’ve had boyfriends who were wonderfully comfortable with vanilla and as I stated there is nothing wrong with being vanilla. I was very accommodating to these boyfriends. I was ok to settle on a no frills, keeping it calm, no bedroom beast unleashed sex life. I did try to introduce a few new things that might have been outside of their norm – sex toys, dressing up, role playing, but it didn’t always go so well.

Unfortunately, this is some the of points in my life when the labeling, judgements and yes slut shaming happened. But I knew that these opinions were coming from individuals who may have limited sexual experiences, perhaps a bit insecure sexually or just maybe not comfortable with a sexually aggressive woman.

This makes me recall one experience I had with a past boyfriend who, although bragged to his buddies that his girlfriend was fucking him like a porn star, but what I was experiencing was more like a PG rated Disney movie. Our bedroom activities were completely based off his comfort level. An evening in between the sheets usually consisted of no foreplay, him getting a blow job but not returning the favor. Then a quick round of missionary sex which consisted of in, out, unload, roll off, curling up in the fetal position and fading off to the slight sounds of him snoring and drooling on my favorite pillowcases. I was left unsatisfied and with a wet spot to sleep on.

One night I was just not willing to settle for this 3-minute ride and the wet spot. So, after he nodded off in his usual manner, I took one of my favorite toys, popped in a porn and had at it. I was laid out on my couch. Legs spread open, one draped over the back. My pussy was so in the need of a decent feeding, even though it was with BOB (battery operated boyfriend) it took no time for my pussy to get wet and welcome in that thick, slick set on level 10, BOB.

I started to get into a rhythm, slowly sliding this toy in and out of me, counting down the moments until that warm full release oozed out of my well satisfied pussy. I started to increase my speed and work the toy deep and deeper in my now pouty, juicy pussy. I was getting so close to my big “O” and then it all came to an abrupt stop. The lights came on and there was a very bewildered, naked, half asleep man, wiping drool off his chin, standing in the in the doorway. The next few minutes were like a scene out of a really bad made for TV lifetime movie.

Immediately in to the labeling and slut shaming. “What kind of freak are you?” “Only Sluts have vibrators.” I knew you weren’t faithful; I knew you were cheating on me.” Now my response might seem to some as bitchy or cold, but I was really getting sick of insecure men labeling me for my sexual needs and desires. So, I stood up and said “Dude, you’re disturbing my play time. Can you please get out?”

Now what happened next was a first for me. This gentleman sat down on the couch next to me, put his head in his hands and started crying. He just repeatedly asked “Why”… “Why.” Why did I have to come out and play after having sex with him? This is when I had to be balls to the wall honest with a guy about what I needed sexually and now that I look back, I wish I would have been this self-advocating much more frequently in my life. I had to explain to him that I needed more than just a one-minute man. The wham, bam thank you mam and the wet spot for me to sleep in wasn’t doing it for me anymore, frankly never.

I did my best to gingerly (no pun intended) explain what I needed sexually, the frequency of when I needed it. What pleasure I like to give and receive. This clearly was out of this individual’s wheelhouse. It was clearly too much for him to wrap his head around. So, in the end we parted ways, unfortunately he left with the opinion that I was a sexual deviant, a slut of sorts, an oversexed women. Today, to these opinions I say FUCK IT!!!

I will no longer be labeled for who I am sexually. I am a woman with a very healthy sex drive. I enjoy the feeling of a hard cock in my hands, in my mouth and yes in my creamy wet pussy. I enjoy a good pussy pounding and I’m not afraid to ask for it. I will wear my sexual proclivity like a badge of honor, and I will let my freak flag fly high with no shame. So, to all those who are vanilla, please enjoy the sex life you are comfortable with. But please don’t judge or shame those of us who enjoy a wider range of flavors.