Confessions of an Amazon

I feel as though I am on some mystical journey to save my own life. School.Work.Family. 
It kind of blows to think I’m not as self motivated as I’d like to be. I try to be but I get so distracted. This has got to be temporary. I think about my mother who is finishing her degree at 56 and I wonder if that will be me? She is bipolar and crazy and maladjusted as fuck. I know I probably inherited some of my depressive behavior from her, where else did I get it from? I know that this can all get better and I will find real reasons to smile instead of making them up in my head.

-D.Amazon

This afternoon marked the first day in months that I’ve had a 7.9 on the Rick-tor scale. Most days when I masturbate it a) takes me until Christmas and b) never feels like it did today. I guess my mind was in the right place, I was truly relaxed. No man could ever make me cum like that. It’s so funny that one’s mind is on a constant stream and even when we are pleasuring ourselves we tend to wonder into the deep end of our thoughts.I remember one time all I could think about was someone I hated, my mind wouldn’t change the damn channel. It was pretty fucking annoying. I believe I gave up that night, it felt too creepy to keep going. I’m going to shoot again tonight, but who knows. I could end up thinking about Larry King soaking wet and ruin my whole night.

-girlxyz

I seek that rush sometimes, that unbelievable tingle you get from the power surging through your body. I had about 20 of those in one hour, oh it was fucking divine. To feel my pulse race for someone new is like fucking for the first time; timid yet filled with sensor response.  God, my knees are still shaking. He knew all the right things to say, like cellular chess he was capturing my king in Bobby Fisher worthy speed.

I hope he’s not just all talk, that would be such a bummer. I gave him a boner via text but that means nothing. All you have to do is whisper and most of them jizz. Even so, I always get an ego boost when I can get them hard fast. It’s like I assembled one of those 3-D puzzles w/o instructions.

alls well that ends well.

-girlxyz

Last I left off I was on the never ending quest for battery power. I can honestly say that quest is over. *angelic music plays*

I’ve moved on to more moral and taxing things. First on the agenda the age old question? Is it worth? Is he worth it?

So there is this boy ( how all good things start out ) and he’s pretty well perfect. I don’t want to place him on a pedestal or anything but he’s pretty damn great. He loves reading and gaming and he’s smart and charming. Wanna know the catch?

He has a girlfriend.

Don’t they all. Do I have bad luck or do I have bad fucking luck? The funny thing is, I could very well’ve shagged him from here to Easter but I don’t want to do that. The whole bit about history repeating itself should mention the bit about self control. I have miles of self control, miles. I actually like him enough to wait. I know its such a foolish woman thing to wait, but I want to see if he turns out to be a creep or a psycho path or just a guy looking for something to escape his mundane life. Men think of me as some kind of Tahiti to get away from their girlfriends, but at the end of the day they end of going back to them and I get well…my vibrating consultation prize.

-girlxyz

Do you ever have fantasies about multiple while you masturbate? I do, I really don’t give my imagination enough credit. I just dreamed up so amazing I gave myself a hat trick. I don’t know if it was the fresh batteries or what was going on in my head, but it felt like nothing I’ve ever had. I was having fantasies about people I would never even place in the same room together, but in my mind none of them cared.

The mind is so powerful, with enough will you can convince yourself you’re sick or interalize so much you get shingles.

I feel so light, as if all my stress was pushed out of my body. After I recovered I knew I needed to blog about this. Hopefully

Hi my name is _________ and I’m addicted to feeling good.

Are there meetings for people like me?

I like the feeling of being so in my element that I let go of all the stupid shit running on a news ticker in my head. Last night or rather now two nights ago 31 happened. Okay, so I’ve been trying to avoid it and was convincing myself that the beautiful piece of man meat laid out in front of me was some kind of trap. Okay…despite the conspiracies in my head it was soooo not a trap. 

I got a chance to speak to him in person turns out he does indeed talk lol. He just sucks at texting. It’s funny the people that slip right past you. Shit, I’ve known him for a couple years and never took him up on his offers to hang out. 

Let me just tell you, it goes up on my list of top 5 greatest lays. I’ve convinced myself for years that people who look like him don’t look at the rest of us as options.

[ Tid bit o’ info: He wears Mags, but they’re too small. He looks wayyy better in person. And he fucks like a porn star on his “bad” days.]

Back to the story. So I went to his homestead and we talked for about an hour and a half. Just shooting the shit mostly, I giggled far more than I should ever admit. I couldn’t stop either, I wish I had a fucking stun gun to sedate myself. So we talk more and lie on the bed next to one another with space to spare. Then he asks “What would you do if I kissed you?” I’m glad I didn’t say the first whorish thing that came to my mind “Maybe you should kiss me and find out.”. If I was a badass I probably would have said that, but instead I said “I don’t know, I wouldn’t hate it.” I’m obviously out of touch. He moved in closer and proceeded to ask again with which I replied “I wouldn’t be mad about it.”. So he moved in closer (practically touching my face with his, mind you) “I just want to find out what’s it’s like, I’ve always wondered” and kissed me. 

I liked it a lot more than I anticipated. 

[fast forward past 10 minutes of kissing and heavy petting] 

After that it was on, clothes off, legs spread, synchronized moaning, ass up in a gorgeous man’s king sized bed. 

I have to give myself props, I gave literally the best blow job I’ve ever given in my ENTIRE life. I had my rhythm perfect, fucking perfect, mother fucking perfect. Yep, yep.

Sometimes I think, damnit you, you better settle down and stop thinking so lustfully. The thing is, I’m having sex for all the right reasons. I used to have sex to feel whole or wanted or loved or important. Now I have sex because it’s fun and exciting and well orgasms feel awesome. 

31 is the new 30. 

-girlzyx

Of all the things in the whole fucking world why did the most unlikely thing have to happen to me? 

No really, why? 

So “Percy” and I were enjoying a good roll in the hay…from about 10pm-4am. When we finished up there was something missing. Yes, like Waldo in a beach scene the condom was gone. I kept thinking “it’s got to be on the floor, it’s got to be on the fucking floor”. No ladies and gents that tricky condom found it’s way to the back of my vagina. I repeat we have a jumper. 

I Googled it and of course it told me I was dying and that I should probably go see a doctor to get it removed. I’m was not about/for that shit. Do not want. So like a good boy he went in there to find it. I played Uno on my iPhone and listened to show tunes. Not really my proudest moment…but he did get it out. *shrug* 

I’ve been doing kegels since then. 

-girlxyz

I’ve never been one to brag, but high five for me damn it. Okay look, I can’t really say that I’m a saint and I really can’t say that I am a complete deviant. My point is this: I am the mistress of my own destiny.

So about three days go I experienced what some my call the holy grail of orgasms. The holy fucking grail.

Flashback one week: Percy Jackson (one of my boys) suggested that I should have a proper send off before I move. I’m thinking cheap tequila and xbox, but he had a better idea. A threesome. Before you start thinking this is my first one, guess again I’m a hat trick vet. Anyway, I’m excited by the idea. Two heads are better than one. har har har. So we plan a time and a date, but then I was like “who the hell else is going to be in this threesome?”. He said he knew a guy and it would be fun to blindfold me so I never see him. I know what you’re thinking, “OH HELL NO!”, but hear me out. Imagine you’re having sex with your normal partner but that night they are just not doing it for you. So you close your eyes and think about the pool boy Juan. Same thing. Percy put it best when he said “you can pretend he’s whoever you want him to be.”.

I was on board but I had 3 rules and 3 requests.

Rules

1. No butt sex

2. No DP

3. No choking

Percy had no problem with that, well he knows better at this point.

Requests

1. Oral Sex

2. Oral Sex

3. If someone could lick my vagina that would be cool

So the night of the threesome whipped in without warning and there I was face first in Percy’s sweaty asshole.

Just kidding.

The night of the threesome felt like I was waiting for my first day of school, I was so fucking nervous. So I smoked several bowls of Reggie and turned all the lights out, with the exception of my Jesus candle. Around midnight Percy finally came over, we sat on the couch alone together for what seemed like an eternity and then I was ready to retire to the bed room. Like a good boy scout Percy brought his own rope and knife to custom fit my wrist restraints and a cute little blind fold to cover my eyes. After he was done making sure I was comfortable and blind he took off his own clothes and laid down on the bed with me.

He started off slow caressing my body, trying to make me feel my comfortable and less nervous. The pot was really doing that job for him, not that I was complaining. He started making out with me and that’s when I heard my front door open. I could hear his footsteps down my hallway until he stopped outside my door. Percy then told me he would be right back and went to go talk to MysteryMan. When Percy came back he laid down to my right and then I could feel another body lying down to my left. I did a mental happy dance.

After that it seems like it was all a moaning blur. Hands everywhere. Thursting. Kissing. Arching. My orgasm counter was a four after all was said and done. I was pretty weak too when we finished, after all they took all my electrolytes.

MysteryMan left before I was finished the fourth time so I never saw his face. Each time I pretended he was someone else, it was fantasic. Fan-fucking-tastic. After I took a shower that night I was so wired. WIRED. I played on my phone for like 2 hours, it was insane.

Anyway, I’m all settled in to a new city. If my old ciy was a boring hick town then my next blogs should be pretty good. If not then oh fucking well.

-Amazon

Tuesday, July 27

I don’t know what the deal is, I wish I fucking did though. Every man that I seem to think is even mildly attractive is a little or in fact gay. Which says a lot about myself really. 

Example 1 - My last boyfriend

He seemed like a nice guy, liked to say sweet things like his dead mother and grandmother sent me to him. You know the usual. We had an about average sex life but the entire time we dated he only got me off once. Yes friends one time. The funny thing is we weren’t even fucking. If I recall correctly he was rubbing my pussy…yeah not sex. Anyway, the night in question we were drinking by the fire with his friends and I decided I’d had enough of the cold and I wanted to go to sleep. So I told him I was going to head in, but he could stay outside with his friends.

Of course he kicked all his friends out and headed inside. classy.

So he is on a scale of 1 to Mel Gibson he’s a 9.5 which is a Lindsey Lohan. I’ve known many a man to say the least and none of them no matter the intoxication have always been able to get the job done. Always. 

When we get in the bedroom I know why he sent his friends away, to get some. duh. So I strip off my clothes right down to my bra and panties before he even has the door closed behind us.

Not my first rodeo kids. 

He immediately waddles toward me with this animal look in his eye, I know this look he wants to pounce on me. The thing is I like to be the one in control plus I’m pretty well sober, I got this. So before he can pounce I drop to my knees and remove is belt with one swift move so swift in fact he almost falls over. He obviously liked this because his pants fell straight to the floor and his dick was saluting me like an army cadet. I grabbed his boxers from the back waist band pulled him down allowing them to rest on his ankles. At this point he did the typical guy shit and started to stroke my hair. [TIP: Don’t stroke our hair or move our heads to get the blow job started. We got it.] I looked up at him and caught his eye contact, he stared so intensely back at me it seemed like he was trying to read my mind. So before he could figure out my next move I put his dick in my mouth. Now this was no ordinary blow job, no, this was a Deluxe Blow J with the wax and wheel detail. I was working that shit so hard, one hand on his balls, one had working his shaft and my mouth moaning and deep throating his cock. Really this blow job was to find out if he had Whiskey Dick [Whiskey Dick: when a man drinks too much and his penis decides to stop functioning for sexual pleasures], but he already got it up so I figured I was in clear three minutes in. After about ten minutes of work he said in a faint voice “I’m gonna come”, so I kept going and like a champ champ I swallowed his huge load. I swear they act like masturbating is out of the question if they’re getting some. 

I figure at this point things are only going to escalate into greatness. I position myself on the bed in such a way it must scream “you better fuck me before I change my mind bitch” because he kicks off his boxers and leaps on the bed; ready to devour no doubt. He starts making out with me which I love because he can taste himself, which I think is hilarious. He’s groping at my tits with his free hand trying to make them into play-doh people, he’s drunk remember. Then he starts traveling lower moving his mouth down to suck on my tits then lower to kiss my stomach then even lower to kiss my panties. Jackpot. DING DING DING. He pulls my panties off throwing them at the door, shoving my legs apart and planting his face in my crotch. Normally he sucks ass (no pun intended) at going down on me, but that night holy fucking shit he was good. Normally he never uses enough pressure and forgets I have a clitoris or something. He was doing crazy porn shit, it was so good I had to close my eyes. I was literally 30 seconds from having quite possibly the best orgasm of my life, legs over his shoulders, back arched, seeing cosmic colors in my eyelids when I feel all action stop. My eyes bolted open, what the fuck is going on? I looked down and there like a toddler he was asleep on my inner thigh. So I shook him and called his name, instead of a jolt awake he started to snore.

I lost him, flat line. 

The worst part was he was heavy as fuck to move out of way, I just kept shoving him to one side with my feet. More like kicking the shit out of him and hoping he “accidentally” fell off the bed. 

The next morning, he greeted me with a cup of coffee. He had no idea what happened the night before, so I obliged him with the information. Ugh.

I realize the following story doesn’t make him gay, but if you met him you would think he was a little gay. With his tight tee shirts and tight pants, gay men checked him out everywhere. ‘Nough said.

I also realize that todays blog was more graphic than usual, I’ve had a mental block as of late so I decided to not hold back. I have nothing to hide. 

thanks for reading guys, look for more in the next few days. 

-Amazon

Why is the concept of Fuck Buddy so damn hard to understand? 

Fuck Buddy \ˈfəkˈbə-dē\ - n. A sex partner to whom you have no special attachment.
see also: friends with benefits

I have a couple fuck buddies to speak of and they all decided (at once) to get their fucking rags. Now I’m not sexist, I don’t think that all women on their periods are irritable. I just know that every women I’ve ever met tends to be a little tired/cranky/bitchy/bleedy/needy during their period. I know for a fact that hormones can make women do crazy shit, look at pregnant women.

I digress, my boys have been crying about how little attention they’ve been getting. *rolls eyes* The thing is this, I text all of them so damn much I’m surprised my hand hasn’t fallen off my wrist. They get all butt hurt about me “having a life” aka I go to school from 9-5:30 Tues-Sat and occasionally take a nap. 

Sometimes I need a break. I can’t coddle all of them and stroke their balls and tell them they’re pretty ALL FUCKING DAY. Shit, I want to do other things. I want to watch tv or maybe see a movie or hell masturbate. I love having orgasms, until one of them drives down here to do it I will be masturbating. 

Speaking of which I need to buy a new toy. I love the one I have it’s simple it gets the job done. He’s been my old faithful for a whole year and trust me we’ve had some good times. I just need to upgrade to a better model. The thing I love best about my vibrator, he never gives me shit via text message. 

Five Reasons Why I Should Marry My Vibrator 

1. Rechargeable Lithium Ion Batteries
2. I can turn it off
3. It never complains if I take too long to come
4. It never hogs the covers 
5. It will never get jealous if I decide to put it on the shelf for awhile

I’m not saying I’m done with men or women for that matter, I’m just saying I’ve never had any trouble out my vibrator. 

-Amazon

Ordinarily I write pretty funny anecdotes and jokes about my life, but tonight I have something serious to discuss with you. 

Sometimes a women is at the end of her rope and becomes obsessed. Obsessed with the idea of going home climbing into bed, shutting off all the lights and masturbating for 12 hours at a time to crappy Internet porn. 

…I would never do such a heinous thing, but I know this girl and she might fucking do it. Or so I hear…

———-

Really though I think I might be addicted to the vibration. Yesterday my orgasm was so damn good my right hand and my inner thighs fell asleep. Oh yeah they both fell asleep, it was definitely an “oh my damn” moment. It felt so good I’m pretty sure it cleaned up the oil spill and made gay marriage legal. Like Bette Midler singing NWA covers good. 

I love this city so far, but the whole “I go to school 42.5 hours a week” thing is getting old. Trust me, I love that I’m starting my career, but I hate that I’m sacrificing my love sex life. 

I either need a stronger vibrator or a man. 

Which ever comes first. 

lol. I’m funny. 

-Amazon 

Do you ever wonder who they pay to write in girlie magazines? Seriously though. I was standing in the check-out line waiting for my turn to place my things on the conveyor belt, when a Jessica Alba covered Cosmopolitan caught my eye. UNTAMED VA-JAY-JAYS! GUY SEX! SEDUCE HIM!

The one that screamed SEDUCE HIM! looked interesting, according to the cover you can catch any man from 20 feet away. Hell yeah, I’m all about seduction. So I flip to the contents and then to the article. Do you want to know the secret? The secret on how to “seduce” a man within 20 feet? 

Your walk. 

Yes, your foot moving in front of the other. I know, fucking revelation. Why didn’t I think of that? Walking with confidence you say? Oh yes, you’re brilliant. Someone get Cosmo a Nobel Prize or a Grant or Blow J for fucks sake.

Seriously Cosmo, everyone knows you need to have good posture and confidence. This has been instilled in women for centuries; I hate to be the barer of bad news but Emily Post beat you to it. If simply walking great meant getting laid every super model would have a…wait bad example. If walking great meant getting laid then little old ladies would…wait damn it. If walking great meant getting laid then I would get laid all the time…wait shit.

Okay look, everyone fucking walks with their head held high if they’re looking for some tang. Plain and simple. If you want to get laid, look like someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing in the bedroom, or not if that’s your game. 

Cosmo needs to do better research or put things on their cover that is not a repeat of their 1996 issues.

-Amazon

Yes, I’m back with more music to [insert something that will make your mother blush]. 

I thought about this for awhile, I’m on a mission so to speak. After I’m done making these playlists I will find an unknowing subject and play it back. One list at a time, mind you, I’ll see if it changes the way we [insert dirty thing]. I have a feeling I’ll have to test it on more than one subject…you know for scientific reasons *cough* *cough* 

It most likely won’t ever happen, but a girl can dream.

• “Lost Without U” - Robin Thicke
• “Secret” - Maroon 5 
• “(Another Song) All Over Again” - Justin Timberlake
• “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” - Teddy Pendergrass 
• “This Woman’s Work” - Maxwell
• “Machine Gun” - Portishead
• “Untitled (How Does It Feel)” - D’Angelo
• “Teach U A Lesson” - Robin Thicke
• “On Top” - Trey Songz
• “Baby” - Ashanti [even though this song gets on my nerves if I listen to it more than once a year]
• “Bed” - J Holiday
• “Wicked Game” - Chris Isaak 
• “Everything In the Right Place” Radiohead 

This is about an hour (give or take a few minutes) of music play. I figure I/you can just put it on repeat. 

Some tips for making playlists yourself

• stay away from anything that is too sappy. Nothing is a boner killer like pink roses and butterfly kisses.
• Avoid lyrics that are too outrageous, you know the songs. The ones where they tell you to get on all fours and shake your ass like some sort of construction equipment while playing with yourself, save that for your pole routine. 
• Sometimes singers have strange voices, don’t bust out your Bjork’s Greatest Hits for your fuck session. Bad idea.
• Last but not least don’t buy those pre-made playlists for sex, chances are they have shit you’ll never want to listen to especially while you’re fucking. Make it your own.

More playlists and blogging to come.
No pun intended…really.

-Amazon