Bosoms on the brain

Lately I've found myself spending a lot of time thinking about girls. Well, not just thinking about them. For some reason it appears my period of disinterest in sleeping with women has ended, leading me to reminisce on girls I have slept with previously. Sometimes I find myself questioning my sexuality, but not because I think I'm gay.

If anything, I'm concerned that I've been less gay then usual lately. See, I always check off the box provided in any kind of social networking site's profile questionnaire that says "bisexual" instead of "straight". Rationally I know I like girls--a lot. I am constantly aware of my sexual attraction to females. The weird part is that the more I think about it, the more depressed I am when I realize it's been about three years since I've come into sexual contact with another female.

Part of the problem is my propensity to develop crushes almost exclusively on straight chicks. I'm pretty sure I slept with every female "best friend" I had in high school at least twice. (You know, just in case one of us was having an off-day the first time around.) There's only so many times you can help a girl cheat on her boyfriend with you before you begin to wonder if what you're doing is morally reprehensible. The answer is always yes, but when you have your face and fingers buried between a girl's legs she's hardly considering the consequences of dyking out with you. There was only one downside to my teenage years of constant pussy-chasing; eventually all those not-so-straight girls decided they should calm down and quit sleeping with me while their boyfriends were out with their friends.

I'm only a little bitter, I promise.

To top all that off, girls that actually like girls make me nervous as hell. I have no idea why, you'd think I'd enjoy the idea of having sex with a girl that could potentially give me more orgasms then I could give her. Maybe it relates to the fact that most lesbians I know are very uncomfortable with the fact I primarily had sex with men. Lesbians of the internet, please realize this is nothing personal. It's just how things are. You can hardly blame me for being incapable of choosing only one gender of people to sleep with when there's boundless members of each sex I would love to let throw me around for an evening.

I think I am going to start looking for a female willing to put in the time and tongue-lapping necessary to assist me in my return to the joyous realm of fucking girls. I'll let you know if I find anyone up for the challenge.

Slut-utations

Sometimes you have to go with what works, so borrowing from one of my personal favorite sex blogs I've decided to begin this with a brief introduction. I've spent the majority of my adult life (what little of it I have experienced) with a plethora of thoughts on sex I felt the need to share... until now. For the most part I've done a good job of keeping my sexual exploits under wraps from my family and friends. Especially my friends come to think of it.

There's a few people over the years that have potentially seen through my protests of sexual naivete, but they were usually already in bed with me by the point that they realized it. Sortof negates the importance of their opinion, wouldn't you say?

It's not that I've kept the truth to myself so long because I'm embarrassed--I wouldn't be doing the things (and people) I do if I didn't enjoy it. If anything I've embraced the fact that I am a pretty sexually-charged being. Maybe I've kept my experiences to myself because I've truly been afraid of what happen to the more innocent parties I've taken to bed if they knew the truth. Here's to hoping they aren't reading this.

So here I am, ready to expose myself for what I am. This is it, Stories of a Trampy Broad.