Bisexual Girls Club

Coming soon…

In the meantime… What is Sexy?

And, no not because of Angela and Angela’s principles, but because Erin’s ultra conservative outfit you know she wants to break out of… hottt!

I turned 35 late last year, so this month I finally made the necessary appointment to get my mammogram done. It’s the responsible thing to do. I most definitely was not looking forward to it though. I had heard such horror stories about how painful it was.

When I arrived I was given a warm welcome and asked to sit in a warm room to register. There would seem to be no indication of a torture chamber in my near future, but with the words of my source still weighing heavily in my thoughts, I assumed this was just the calm before the storm. It added to my suspicion that their kindness was perhaps part of a cover up when the address they gave in their phone message was different than the address I was supposed to enter from. As soon as I walked into the location I had written down, a lady was waiting in the hallway and like a man on 42nd street with a coat full of stolen watches, she motioned me over to her and asked what I was here for. When I told her she glanced back over her shoulder and quickly pulled out a card telling me, “We’re not allowed to use this entrance. She then pointed to the waiting room behind her, which was filled with what seemed like only male patients. “You have to go around the corner to the next street. Here’s the card.” At least I think that’s what she said. The card seemed legitimate, so, like a sheep I just followed along. Okay, well, it was weird, but I don’t know why I didn’t just say to her “WTF??” Is this part of some secret experiment? Is being a woman with breasts something I have to hide from the rest of the world? Are they going to tie me up somewhere and have their way with me with no one from the outside world being the wiser? Maybe I didn’t ask because I had such a morbid curiosity about it that I wanted to see for myself what was behind door No. 2. Maybe I liked the idea of being a little sneaky. There was nothing dirty about the building… being in the upper east side, it all seemed quite fancy actually. So is that how people are lured in?

When I got to the new entrance and made my way into the building, I told the doorman who I was here to see (a name I had never heard of before written on the card the lady had given to me – a doctor’s name below the name of the Breast Blah Blah Blah center). He then pointed me to a second door, which was propped open with an upside down silver garbage pale. Even in their seeming disorganized fashion, everything was still so fancy. I sat down in another waiting room. The receptionist wasn’t there and I was alone. Hmmm… it was odd and slightly creepy.

I decided to walk all the way to the back. There was just a long hallway and a ramp eventually leading to another waiting room. Everyone was silent. Some rooms to the side contained large machines and people in white jackets all with their backs to the doors. No one even looked at me. I thought I was in an alien ship invisible to all and about to make some huge discovery. It reminded me of being in a video game where I hadn’t activated any of the other players or monsters yet. So I was free to wonder about aimlessly. In the other waiting room, I thought I was seeing something familiar, like what I had seen at the first entrance, but then I realized it wasn’t all that familiar.

When I was done amusing myself, I returned to the waiting room back where I started by the silver garbage pale. Still no one there. I decided to empty my bladder. When I came out there was finally a receptionist at the desk paying for her banana and hot chocolate lunch. She was distracted on the phone and the poor delivery guy seemed to never get his tip.

Finally when I spoke to her she sent me back down the long hallway past the ramp where I had just explored. I felt like I was was completely alone, yet at any moment if I desired I could either activate anyone else and have them interact with me or shut down and wait quietly and not be bothered by anyone. Waiting at doctor’s office like this is quite surreal. It’s not the same at the dentist, where someone always has to bother you about something. Or the gyn – they’re always trying to get into your business. Even the eye doctor, he’s always waiting for you to make some choice or another. I could have been unstuck in time here for a while if I wanted.

Finally I got called back for my exam. I went into one of those side rooms (how the hell did they fit all these secret side compartments in this place??) and was asked to remove my deodorant and powder and take my shirt and my bra off. I was motioned to a fitting room with “mammogram wipes” and a shelf with white and blue pin stripe robes. I don’t know why I asked but I did, “Can I close this door?” I just felt a need to be extra polite. Everyone was so damn nice. A couple of hot technicians too.

Then I was taken into the exam room.

And that’s where I saw the monster that would squeeze my breasts.

I was asked to place these stickers on my nipples. (I almost asked if I could have some extra ones to take with me. They would make great party favors/ice breakers. But I thought better of it. Maybe if I had been drinking that would have worked better). The stickers would help them find the nipples in the x-rays.

Then I was asked to take off one sleeve and the technician began to pull my breast onto the cold flat surface. As she pressed a pump, a second flat plate come down on top of my breast and the more she pressed the more the plate squeezed my breast. I felt slightly dizzy. I almost thought I was going to faint. The pain was very real, but despite this, it wasn’t as painful as I had imagined. I suppose it could be a fun torture for some. I wish I had a photographer to record all this for me. I’m always fascinated by these machines. The dentist machines are fun like this. You always get strapped into the chair and who knows what they’re going to do to you. And the technicians are always cute and manipulating your body parts. It feels like it should be a lot kinkier… I think I found my new fetish. I always get turned on when I’m at these kind of doctor’s offices. The doctors and technicians with their huge scary machines…

Before I knew it, it was all over. It lasted just a few minutes. When I first entered, I didn’t know if I’d have the patience for it. They estimated 20 minutes, but I think it lasted less than that. So when I was over, I still wanted a little more.

I walked out of the exam room and back into the changing room. Took off the robe and got my shirt back on. Just like that they were done with me. No more interacting, how sad… I grabbed my bags and started to leave, but suddenly I felt so heavy. I thought I was walking in water. Why was it so hard to move. What did they do to me. Did they drug me in that room. Where there chemicals shot into my breasts? Was I about to pass out? I could hardly lift my legs. Why didn’t I notice this before? I looked down below my waist and then I realized. I was still wearing the lead skirt (to protect me from the X-Rays). “Oh, wait, I forgot this…” and I handed her the skirt. She smiled. Oh, she hadn’t noticed either. Maybe I should have taken it home just so I could come back and flirt with her some more. I should have dragged myself out the door unnoticed. Maybe next time I’ll take advantage of my invisibility cloak. The next time I play the game, I’ll be more prepared. Well, at least I got one last smile out of her. Still, for squeezing my breasts so much, you’d think she would have offered to buy me lunch. I feel so used…

This week’s What Is Sexy? can be answered by a number of lovely ladies. Let’s start with Tess and her mesmerizing boobies. Not all of us can be lucky enough to touch, but maybe she will invite you…

I’m a dumbass. I meant to post this event before it happened, but since I’m really an awful blogger, I did not. My holiday and New Years resolution is to improve on this. For being such a bad girl, I really should get spanked harder than we spanked Rachel.

Yes I did attend the Calendar Launch party. No you can no longer attend this year’s event, but it’s not to late for you to order and enjoy the wonderfully sexy images. And the money goes for a great, sex-positive cause, Sex Worker Awareness.

This calendar is also a great compilation of next year’s sexy events and sex blogs that you must put on your reading list. I myself have been bad at keeping up with my homework, but after reviewing the calendar, I feel that I have a doable to do list for visiting those oh so sexy blogs. While it’s too late to give Rachel your ticket, which allows you to spank her, you should still be able to get the calendar autographed at a number of these events.

Aside from getting schooled about my sexuality and role in my lifestyle by a sexy tattooed lady (more on that later), I also found out that apparently I was a candidate for a month in the calendar. It seems that is wasn’t as easy to find me as it should have been. I would have gladly posed. They say they’re going to put in a good word for me for the next one. You can always reach me through this blog with a comment or through Lex’s blog the same way. I suppose you could say it’s a lie and I was never really meant to be in it, but I guess we’ll have to wait for the next calendar to see… In the meantime enjoy New York City’s Sex Bloggers 2009 Calendar pinups.

A girl asked me the other day, “What is the hardest thing about having your blog?” She went on to speculate whether it was the fact that I am vulnerable and anyone can write all sorts of comments anonymously; judging me and not appreciating that I put myself out there.

No, I guess I can’s really ask anyone to feel sorry for me about that. I chose this.

I am not worried about sending my picture over the internet or exposing myself in this blog though obviously I’m choosing my own limitations like not having my face posted here or things like giving out my last name, SSN and mother’s maiden name. But I meet a lot of people who have read my blog or my husband’s blog and I don’t hide from them.

There is no privacy on the internet, so I hear. I think I’ve gotten over it. I got over it after Lex first started his blog and discussed it with people we knew who had their own livejournal. After a falling out (because we wouldn’t have sex with the couple) the girlfriend posted nasty comments on the loft site (we have since learned about a little thing called “moderating comments”). Eventually she apologized. I got over it after the Swedish couple was insulted upon discovering the blog (I don’t remember telling them). Rereading it now, I can’t be sure, but I could almost swear the entry might have been modified. Though it is a rare occurrence, in this case I think it was less hassle to remove some of the details. The husband was just not happy when he found out the wife was getting eaten out by some other guy without his permission and he lashed out at us. Anyway, here was another lesson on needing to moderate comments.

It took me a little longer to get over our email stalker, but once she finally vanished (I’ll save that for another story) it was just a matter of me remembering I don’t want to become a hermit just so that I keep all the crazies away. I eventually got over it me when an ex-girlfriend blew her top (apparently not even my friendship was needed anymore shortly after we introduced her to her fiancé – so she fabricated an argument) threatening me over AIM (AOL Instant Messenger that is – I myself have mostly gotten over the whole chatting phase in my life).

I got over it almost immediately after a now ex-coworker found my woman-for-woman profile (with a photo of me wearing nothing but a painted dress) and proceeded to inform me that since there was no picture on his profile I would never know who he was, but that I shouldn’t worry my secret life was safe with him.

Well, listen, I became vulnerable long before my blog, first of all. Second of all, it’s not the internet that could kill me. It’s the people everywhere and anywhere that could hurt me, whether I meet them in real life or in cyberspace, whether or not I get “voice verification” before I agree to meet someone. As long as I meet people in neutral space and never bring back someone to my apartment or go to theirs unless I feel comfortable and safe as best I can.

So, I made a decision long ago to not stay in my house and hide away for the rest of my life. And yeah, at least keep my sex life separate from my family life and probably from my work life. But outside of that, what I do on my time is my own choice. No one else can take that away from me. Only by shutting me up would they have won.

I told the girl that I did feel vulnerable though and there was that matter of being judged by others as a potential problem. But there was more to it. I told her it was difficult sometimes. The girl continued to probe, “Is it that you don’t have a enough material or that you don’t have time to write about it.

I felt like I had to defend myself. Yes! I have plenty of material. I’m not a total loser. And some days some interesting things happen in my life too. And yes, I have definitely felt like I often just need to live my life. Although I have fantasies about keeping up with my dairy every day like I used to as a little girl or a crazy teenager with a crush on every other person I knew or every other celebrity I wish I knew (it was a form of catharsis), I am often too busy living the chaos of my life. Still, there was yet more to that answer. But my response to her was simply “not enough time.” That’s not at all untrue. It’s just that it’s only another part of it.

What was I unwilling to share with this woman I had only met minutes before she asked me the questions? She read my blog and my husband’s blog for some time. She knew something about me. I knew nothing about her except that she was married and her husband bought us wine. Could I share the truth with her in that moment. If I had known I was going to post it here, I would have said it, but these thoughts were still dancing around in my head and I was not ready to share. I didn’t even know for sure if I wanted to share that information.

Well, the full story, the full truth was that people cannot handle the truth. I myself have trouble with it sometimes, being known as a bit sensitive. Well, this blog isn’t so much the catharsis I wanted it to be. At least not yet. I feel like I CANNOT be completely honest. And I thought having my blog would allow me to say what I could not say on my husband’s blog. Even just knowing that people know what’s really inside of me… as long as I can control it, that can be quite a rush , but really, how would people react if they really knew the truth about certain things. Only a super secret blog to blog what I just can’t blog about sometimes would be a true catharsis. The problem is that although I want to not care about the traffic I get, I can’t help it. I’ve probably been accused of caring too much somethings. And then there’s the fact that people can do some crazy things when faced with the truth.

I DO believe in the truth so it’s not that I outright try to lie… I just feel the need to omit certain truths. It can be lonely – easy to alienate people with too much truth. Where is that line? How much risk is worth it? The biggest problem for me with my blog is that I want to be more honest but find that hard to do it. I don’t want to seem bitter if and when I feel angry because I do feel disappointed often. Life is full of disappointments. And I have this nagging feeling that if I am too positive about certain things, I will just jinx it. Maybe that’s connected with the Catholic guilt. But I do wish I could be more honest. I wonder, would people receive that well or just dismiss it as a rant?

I mean, I’m all for finding the positive in life and not focusing so much on the negative. I believe that positive energy brings you more positive energy while negative energy can be poisonous. But, when something is not right you can’t always hold it in. There’s a time to be nice and a time to not be so nice. As I continue to blog, I will work on that. While it is probably not always wise or even necessary to be brutally honest, there are times when I just want to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.