Perhaps the only difference between me and other people is that I always demanded more from the sunset. More spectacular colors when the sun hit the horizon. Perhaps that’s my only sin. (Joe played by Charlotte Gainsbourg in Lars Von Trier’s movie Nymphomaniac)
I am a woman of many talents but faithfulness and monogamy elude me. I find them supremely boring. I live for random, unexpected, remote encounters. I feel them before they happen. I invoke and summon them. With my mind and my sex. They come when I am ready to welcome them. Because of my nature, lust for life, recklessness and passion, I allow myself to indulge in all the colors of the sexual rainbow. I am, indeed, hetero-flexible, loving men but fucking women too. Nowadays people call us ‘fluid gender’, once we were just ‘anything goes’. I would like to share with you my jolly sexcapades, without sparing anything about the free and emancipated sexuality of us women. Because we are both saints and sinners and maybe it’s about time that you allow us to unleash our impulses which have nothing to envy to those of men. On the contrary, women’s impulses are overflowing because they have been confined and restrained for too long. A river in full spate, crossing the dyke by cutting through the cunt. I know no shades. Sadomasochism trumpeted and translated for the masses turns me on as much as leafing through a finance publication. I don’t wait for the arrival of a latex-clad knight to experience extreme sexual pleasures, sinful in the eyes of self-righteous moralists. I claim them for myself and I practice them with my lovers. Each one of them represents a lesson on the issue of sex; each man, each woman discloses intimate predilections, perversions and deviations. I’ve met, experimented and lived all kinds of mischief, on my battered and whipped skin. Yet never frustrated. Because I fuck with nonchalance, stripped of taboos and mental masturbation, while indulging in the manual one on a daily basis. I’ve learnt how to use my religious inheritance to further enjoy sex. Not the other way around. Is it forbidden? Mmm … And I dig it even more with every sensory bud and pore of my body, passing from the balls and licking my lips with a kinky smile. Sex is a game, sex disentangles, sex relieves. Not only the above-mentioned balls but also the mind. The difference between having sex like doing gymnastics and having sex engaging the mind is the same between short and broken orgasms and those mighty throbs that make your body tremble for a long time. This is what I call the mind-blowing orgasm, the one literally blowing your head off the ground, overwhelming and shaking up all senses. If you experience this blissful emotion, you can easily let go of the other, disregarding mediocrity between the sheets. Because you only want the one ravaging your loins, the one that makes you moan and howl like a werewolf. If you try the ultimate orgasm, you can only be content with that same peak. And, it goes without saying, you only covet more. Just as I pretend from myself, I pretend from others. Well, I am pretty demanding. So much for those people who think I am ‘easy’. Oh yes, as easy as understanding a book of quantum physics written in Urdu. Ancient Urdu. And not because I am a genius, but only because I am slightly nutty. But I am a certified nut. Sex enables to be crazy, or better it demands it. Let yourself be washed away and overwhelmed.
Mind and cunt are the primary organs playing in the sexual symphony. Heart is not necessarily engaged in an entrancing carnal duet. My cunt is highly democratic: age, race, sex, social status are not prejudicial to her. My mind is sharp and dissolute. My spirit is witty and saucy. Come, better cum, to discover my kaleidoscopic and juicy sexcapades between the sheets, in here and out there, in public and forbidden places. This is my horizontal life. Sometimes vertical. Oblique. Deliberately devious. I have learnt on my own skin and sex how the wait and the delay of pleasure can make you experience absolute bliss, bringing your whole body to that sensory ecstasy that sublime sex can convey. There, I like the transcendent fuck. Easy, simple stuff. Quite the opposite of fast-fuck, flavorless and colorless sex, swallowed but not tasted. I have chosen the flavor path; a refined, coveted and difficult route. To be savored again and again. In the mouth. Little by little. To then devour it all. Up until you feel your throat throbbing down deep inside. As usual, I challenge and outstrip myself. The next chapter of my bold life will be called Tantra. Very Tantra stuff. Tantra Robbie.
Nonetheless, you cannot reach the lofty heights of pleasure without a tough and constant training and several base camps, in what I call the art of cock trekking. You cannot expect to succeed in the dauntless and fiery sexual venture without first undergoing miserable performances, faux pas and lousy trekking buddies. In short, to get to the top, you need to start from the bottom. The buttocks! After all, practice makes perfect. So, let’s get on it. Let’s do it. As a woman and a lover, aiding and abetting men, I want to reveal you what goes around our minds before, during and after sex. What turns us on and attracts us to you. What is the secret to strip us out of our lingerie and our taboos, granting us both the supreme pleasure of carnal duet. I will do it by telling the naked and raw truth about my zipless fucks, as Erica Jong called them in her 1974 bestseller Fear of Flying. Those casual and random encounters, no-strings attached sex, yet bursting with emotions. Sex is emotion in motion. Amusement for the soul and panacea for the body. The only thing worse than not having sex is having bad sex.
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