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*ahem*

Just because a woman CAN have multiple orgasms, does NOT mean that she wants to have 20.  To be more specific, just because this woman can have multiple orgasms, does NOT mean that I am comfortable having 5.  To make this easier to digest, I will break down my argument into 3 main issues: Energy, Pleasure, and Pain.  I think that about covers the topics.  Although there may be more, these are the ones top on my list.

1. Energy.
1. Cumming takes energy.
2. Energy requires energy.
3. When a person creates energy by putting forth energy, exhaustion will occur. 
4. Successive orgasms with no recovery time while pretty in movies and intriguing by men who are largely unable to achieve multiple orgasms, is exhausting.
2. Pleasure.
1. Pleasure feels good.
2. When a man can make a woman feel good, it will result in the man feeling a certain amount of pleasure.
3. Unless he’s a selfish ass and then he’s probably not reading this because he’s never made a woman cum out of his own self centered need to achieve an orgasm as quickly as possible so he can roll over and go to bed.
4. You can actually get too much of a good thing.
5. I realized this when I ate 1/4 pound of peach candies in one sitting.
6. the first 20 pieces were delicious, and then it just got painful.
7. a few orgasms is lovely, but after 5 or 6 orgasms, discomfort will be a result. This is especially true if one is using the Hitachi Wand.
8. Energy creates heat (See Einstein’s whole theory on relativity).
9. A clitoris bursting into flames could be the result of too much of a good thing turned very bad and, I’m guessing, this would be extremely unpleasant.
3. Pain.
1. Have you ever had an itch in the middle of your back that you couldn’t reach?
2. Then you find the right stick (or fork or fingernails of a friend, parent or lover)  and you ask them to scratch your itch for you…
3. And at first you just move around like some cat in heat because it feels so fucking good.
4. But then they just stay on that one spot, and they start to go harder and you try to move away from them…
5. But they are kind of dense, and they keep up with it until finally your itch is gone, and in its place is a hole where your back use to be?
6. Yeah.  I believe I’ve made my point.

So dear caller.  I love the fact that “you” delight in my orgasms.  When I tell you that I’m cumming, please take pleasure in knowing you are responsible for the great response (well, and Hitachi wand, of course!) If you want me to have a second – ask me if I’m ready or if I need a bit of a break.  I will tell you honestly how it is.  When I say something like … “ouchie” – that usually means that smoke is beginning to come off of my clit and I need a bit of a break.  I’m not being cute.  If you wonder if I’ve reached orgasm (sometimes I have to be a bit quiet…sorry – sucks living at home!), please don’t hesitate to ask me.  If you need me to tell you “I’m cumming” – I will be more than willing to do so.  Please – for the love of my clitoris and all that is holy, when I tell you I can not cum anymore, don’t consider that a challenge.  It’s not.  I mean I. CAN. NOT. PHYSICALLY. CUM. ANYMORE. WITH OUT. DOING. DAMAGE. TO. MY. WOMANHOOD! 

This blog post is my own personal opinion and I do not intend to speak for every other woman in the entire universe.  The specific details may be different (maybe SarahICanCumFiftyTimeswhileSquirting can cum 50 times with out setting her clit on fire…) but I assure you that all women do have limits on how many times they are able to cum with out experiencing discomfort.  The clit, like the penis, becomes very sensitive after arousal and should be handled with care.  Thank you and goodnight.

I’m REALLY sorry I made this confusing. It sounded so good on paper, but executing it is a whole ‘nother story. Not sure if it’s just my hang over from Saturday haunting me or the fricken confusing way in which I explained these damn rules!

Forgive me and then give me a call. You’ll be glad you did!

Think I’m kidding? Exhibit #1:

Mmhm.

Exhibit #2:

Exhibit #3

How cute is this toy? Pretty damn cute!

and Martha even makes picking up poop fun. Exhibit #4:

Damn you Martha Stewart and your beautifully colored empire!

Kidding.

I just don’t like loud noises. And fireworks take longer to prepare than actually seeing them. I don’t mean to sound like a brat (though I’m getting practice becoming more of one thanks to some of my callers who are holding classes in brat), I just don’t like the whole anticipation of fireworks for 10 minutes. Or even 15. It took longer for me to drive to an area to see these fireworks and then set up to watch them than it did for the actual show. It’s comparable to being prepared for a nice long sex session doing your favorite fantasy, and getting a minute. I understand quickies can be necessary and downright enjoyable guys, but I’m not wearing my sexiest lingerie for one. Did I get all off topic and lose the original point? Yeah? Original point: I hate fireworks.

Jackson totally freaked out during them. I don’t know what I was doing last 4th of July because I don’t remember him acting like this last year. Or maybe I just repressed the whole event. But tonight, Jackson was just pissed off. Not scared but he was in full protector mode. The neighbors started shooting off (fireworks) at about 5:00PM I swear! And then the theme park next to me started shooting them off hours later, and then a few drunk neighbors decided to test their luck and shot off fireworks an hour ago. During this long torture my dog the protector decided that all he had to do was bark at a high enough and loud enough decibel and the fireworks would stop. He’s now passed out on the rug acting like he’s responsible for restoring world peace. Next year he’s getting a doggy tranquilizer.

So enough of the whining, let me say I will take MY kind of fireworks over 4th of July ones any day of the year! You guys have kept me so incredibly busy and happy this weekend! I didn’t know that coming back would be so rewarding. I still have so much to do before I can sit back and ‘kind of’ relax, but I have until the 3rd week in August to complete some of the renovations I’m doing around here. I think I might just make it.

I decided to stay up late late and work to gain your favor (ahaha) and I guess it worked and you all forgive me. Glad we got that sniveling and begging out of the way so we can go back to how things were before I flaked for 4-5 months. And yeah, I mean MY sniveling and begging! So I spent the past few days not really sleeping and doing some serious calls. I also spent quite a bit of time thinking up an incentive program/reward system that will make sure I never sleep for more than 5 hours a night again EVER! But it will be totally worth it! I really like being able to do something for my callers who have supported me since I was 18 (wait – that was just 1 year since I’m only STILL 19!). I’ve had friends come and go since those beginning days, but …

Let’s not do this AGAIN. I always get all sentimental like I’m dying or something. Just thanks. And the incentive program is underway. I will be updating and sending you all emails in the next few days so watch your inboxes on niteflirt. If you don’t want to participate, please let me know. I hate spam and certainly don’t want to be contributing to mail you’d prefer to not be getting.

Um … I think that’s basically it. This week is pretty much mine to do with as I wish, so I’ll be available early evenings for calls every day except Monday & Tuesday evenings (spin class – won’t be home until about 9:00PM). So dreamers, tomorrow let’s dream a bit together! You’ll be glad you did!

Whoa – I got so off track. Anyway – I’m running this morning, so I’m about to be “unavailable” for calls. Which leads me to this subject: I know what my rates are. There is a method to my madness. If you are ever tempted to tell me what my rates are – don’t. I’m aware of it. Really I am. You are all so sweet and protective though. I appreciate it. That’s all I’m gonna say about that… *wink face*

After I run and hopefully recover and live, I’m going to go to church. Yes. I go to church. Every Sunday unless I’m ill. It’s a habit, forced upon me as a child. But now I enjoy it. It gives me a chance to pray for all of the naughty men (regardless of if you feel you need it or not – *ahem* Last Shot and Milkman!) AND it gives me a chance to get a little ‘insurance’ for all the naughty stuff I’m about to do for the week ahead. Like the insurance man told me the other day, you buy insurance hoping you’ll never need it. By the time you need insurance, it’s a bit too late to buy it then, right? You all know I’m totally having fun with the irony of a phone sex girl going to church on sundays and then coming home and breaking out her hitachi wand to masturbate, right?

I will be back this afternoon! Now I’m REALLY going to get going on my run. I could have been (almost) done by now!

Come dream with me later on this afternoon, okay? You’ll be glad you did!

It all started when I was 3 years old. The neighbor boy…

Kidding!

So this is what is up.

For a while I’ve been wondering how to give a little something back to … eeeew.
spider.
Brb.

So I was saying…

I have been wondering how to give back to my dreamers. A bit of an incentive program, let’s say. I wanted it to be special and something that I could keep up with. I figured out the most brilliant and creative way to treat you all, but I’m already falling behind. But do not fear! I shall prevail.

Because my madness is top secret, I will not be revealing the details here. But give me a call (or even an email) and ask me for the password to my “win a piece of me” protected post, and you’ll have all the information and details you can handle. You could also just make a call that’s 15 minutes or longer, or leave a bit of well deserved, honest feedback and you’ll get the password and first piece of me via niteflirt email.

Curious? Give me a call. You’ll be glad you did!

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So I started this whole training project. And this coming week I’ll be on week 2. Ill be running a total of 2 minutes by the end of this week, I think. Supposedly at this rate – in 8 weeks I’ll be running 30 minutes non stop , which “they” say is a 5k. I think I’ll have to run 45 minutes straight to go that distance. I am not running fast enough to do a 10 minute mile. 3 miles is 5 kilometers, right? Damn American school system. Haven’t we been trying to move over to the metric system for the past 50 years now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do it already instead of giving us water bottles with liters and telling us how many cm something is next to the inches to avoid confusion. They tell us it’s easy – easier than the American system of units, yet the only people who are using the metric system are doctors and scientists. The smart people, basically. But I digress.

Running is hard. Anyone who runs has my complete attention and then a healthy dollop of respect on the side. People who run past me as I crawl along on my 20 minute mile are impressive. Their leg muscles inspire me and their even breath as they actually say hello to me as they pass is impressive beyond words. If I look in your direction as I’m “running” by you, consider yourself lucky. Half of the time I can’t see through the pain.

I’m exaggerating.

Slightly.

The thing is, I kinda like the challenge. I like running and knowing that whatever is inside of me – any fear or anxiety or worry or whatever, leaves my body because struggling for air and longing for my next breath takes precedent over any emotional trouble I might be feeling at the moment. I like the feeling when I forget the task of running and I look up and see squirrels running up trees, and flowers crawling slowly up someone’s white picket fence, and the fat Morris the Cat body double that lies in the middle of the path every Wednesday morning at about the same time every day as I gasp by. I love how at the end I’m always amazed at what I’ve accomplished. I like how strong I feel I am at that moment, and how my sweat catches up to me all of a sudden — like – “whoa! I’m hot!” flood of sweat that literally drips off my body in rivers of varying size and shape.

I wouldn’t say I’m addicted. Yet. But I’m fast on my way. I wouldn’t say it’s my drug of choice in making myself feel better, but it’s definitely in the top 5. I wouldn’t say I believe this whole process will work and in 8 weeks I’ll be running 30 minutes straight, but I’m definitely willing to try.

What do I have to lose?