TMIT: That Time I . . . Cried . . .

I promise all things righteous that I’m not *that* kind of girl.   I don’t cry over much.  I give off the perception that I’m overly tough and insensitive; that I have a heart of stone.  So when it comes to tears, you don’t happen to see them drizzling down my face too often . . . except for maybe when Duke loses to Maryland and ties for the ACC #1 spot . . .

But I digress.

And mom, you should totally stop reading right now because what I’m about to post is not something mother-daughter appropriate.  Then again, it’s not like I’m a princess, either.

I am a girl who is a driven hard when it comes to sex.  I like it.  I’ll admit it.  Nay, I love it.   And sex is sex is sex.  Sure, it can get emotional at times, but most times I bone to release frustration, anger . . . what have you.  And no, it doesn’t always have to be sex with a partner.  I do do the *unthinkable* and *unspeakable*.  I mean, remember that post when I showed you all a picture of my friend?

I thought so.

So this week had been extremely rough on me.  In fact, the past few weeks have been rough.  I’m sure the majority of you have gathered that from my posting lately though.  I haven’t exactly been my self . . . I’ve kinda been that angry, crazy cat woman lurking in the shadows, just waiting to pounce on your face if you dare make a false move.

Moving on.

Since A hadn’t exactly been feeling up to par lately, I’ve been a little . . . neglected in that department.  And when I feel neglected, I start to get, well, cranky.  I mean, who wouldn’t in all honesty?  I like my love.

Finally, we had a breakthrough this week and we were ready to go! go! go!

And my levels kept rising . . .

and rising . . .

and rising . . .

until finally the inevitable happened and BAM!  Miracles occurred.  Babies were born.  Angels sang . . .

And I . . .

I, my friends?  I . . .

cried.

Over an orgasm.

Tagged as: fun, love, men, people, relationships, sex, tears, TMIT, vibrators, women