In Lust I trust

Show us what's on the agenda.

 

Today I plan to get some new undies and clothes and do a lot of Spring Cleaning... I want a new turn around and nothing does a turn around better than a vacuum cleaner and some Clorox.

 

I'll be using this book as a general guideline. I first encountered for a birthday present to give to a friend, but she find the information inside so incredibly useful that she recommended that I check it out myself. I did and I like a lot...

For clothing, I plan to be using this book:

 

 

I know, I know, I'm such a Oprah whore, but after they were on the show I realized that I could use a serious tune up in my fashion wardrobe and the way I carry myself. I consider myself to be a rather stylish chick, but sometimes style can clash with the body and I am honest enough with myself to admit that. Wish me luck in my beauty transformation.

I think that what the author of the Lingerie Handbook said was very true. She mentioned something about laying a foundation down for the day. If your foundation is kind of frumpy you might feel kind of frumpy. If its a little bit wild, you might feel a little bit wild. Lingerie is suppose to make only one person happy most of all - you. Not the significant other. And it does not matter what your size, there is something in lingerie for everyone. It has this strange power to connect you with your sexual energy. But I will focus on that later. For now, adios my dear readers. And hope that I find a killer story to tell you while I am away.

Have a great day!

Always in lust,

A sexfused kitten

What's the last compliment you gave and/or received?
Submitted by MalieKai.

Oh sooner or later I would have had to answer one. This one seems suited for this blog. The last compliment I gave was to my boyfriend. I told him that he had nice cheeks and then I slapped them.

Last night was a night for bad food. Not even gross, just terribly bland. Yuck!

I am going to make this a rather anonymous blog. Hopefully I won't ruin it by telling someone I know specifically about this blog – address and name and such and such. But in the process of creating this blog I tried to come up with a name for myself. With no luck on my own, I finally surrounded my self to the powers of a porn star name generator. Here are the results:

• Tight Cherry
• Ima Cumming
• Little Miss Muff
• Venus Vegas
• E.Z. Lay

Thought I typed in the same information, I kept getting different results. I decided to stick with the name Tight Cherry for now. I think it suits me and my mood. And I think that it is the best sounding one out of all of the results I got. Little Miss Muff is just plain awful. Ima Cumming sounds like a joke. Venus Vegas... Well that actually sounds like a Street fighter character. But maybe that is just me.

I’ve been thinking about what sort of content I should put on this blog. I would like a standard format, but I guess I will just sort of fall into something that isn’t too complicated for me to handle, but allows me to capture all the “juicy” details of daily events. Actually the probably won’t be that juicy at all. I need to search around to see how popular bloggers format their entries and maybe simulate one I like a lot.

 

Say my name, say my name.

When no one is around you spit out that bad tempura!

 

Last night I had a nice outing with a high school friend. I can relate so much to this friend because we have similar backgrounds. Both of our parents hail from different countries. Both of us were raised here and have to deal with the cultural expectations and cultural clashes due to . We started off the night by eating sushi and teriyaki from California Sushi and Teriyaki in . Note: Do not confuse this place with California Roll and Sushi. They are two different restaurants in two totally different locations.

I did not enjoy my meal at all at California Sushi and Teriyaki. I let that happy looking waving kitty that greets you as you enter the parking lot fool me! The tempura was awful, the rolls were

mediocre, and the spicy tuna was pathetic. Worst of all they totally forget about my companion’s tea. It was so strange. I ate there before with the boyfriend on two previous occasions. The first time the food was awesome. The second time the food was ok. Tonight the food sucked and was full of blandness. Even the wasabi didn’t have the right spark to light my taste buds on fire. I was disappointed and I apologized for such bad food when we got into the car. I fulfilled her dream of hot aromatic green tea at a Coffee Bean in later than night. Part of me wants to think we jinxed our meal because our topic of discussion while waiting for our food was about restaurants that reached their peak in tasty goodness that then turned horrible and almost vomit inducing in quality, sanitation, and taste. And while the restaurant was especially clean and had a good ambience, the food was terrible, except for my teriyaki chicken. That they did get down rather nicely, but nothing terribly impressive to the point that I would go back just for that. I made a mental note that I have to take my friend to Maki Yaki in the near future. So far nothing tops that Maki Yaki, but I will write more on that at a later time. The only highlight of my meal there, besides the delightful conversation I had with my friend, was seeing some seriously killer eye candy of a tatted nature.

He was a beauty. His arms were tatted. There was some Asian inspired work on one side and some demonic monsters on the other, but nothing terribly intimidating - just some very nice detail. He had pretty eyes, but lucky for me we did not make eye contact or else I would have not been able to hide my expression. Do you ever get that thing, where a cute guy just catches you so off guard? Here I was popping a bland, wasabi loaded roll into my mouth and bam, the edgy surfer version of Cupid walks right by. Due to her positioning, my companion could not reconfirm my vision. Oh well. I had to let him go for the night. Besides, I find it strange that when I feel bold and daring no guys like that are around. But when I am just fine and chilling with the home girl, bam the cutest guys have to pop out. Eye candy. How delicious. Hmm! Hmm! Good!

I read this interesting article on the myth of beauty and what happens when we are surrounded by unrealistic images. It is a fact that the majority of the population is physically ugly. You know this. I know this. We just call it average or normal. But in fact it really is seen as ugly. Now I am not bashing inner beauty or different values of beauty. I’m just saying that no matter what culture you look at you have someone who is considered beautiful by that culture’s values while the rest of the population is not so lucky. Our brains are trained to seek out beautiful people do to the traits that they possess. We want those traits for our offspring. We also want those traits to show off to other people as our human trophies. It is the “Look what I got and you don’t have” sort of a thing.

The problem comes with most people not realizing that you can never be something you weren’t born. Not every guy can be a Brad Pitt or else Brad Pitt’s genes would not be considered attractive enough to be in main stream media. Not every girl can be a Scarlett Johanssen or else Scarlet would not have everybody in lusting after her curves. Beauty is this rare trait that everyone wants. And when you get overwhelmed by it do to the media and plastic surgery you are sort of stuck in these weird situations. In places like where there are a lot of pretty people walking around a couple of things may happen. For some people the beauty cancels out. You get used to it. It becomes no biggie to you. For others it triggers body disorders. And for a few others, what I like to say the significant but small minority, you get enraged by it. Too many plasticky looking people become annoying. It makes me want to yell “What the hell! Why are their 80 year olds that look better now than when they were 20? Ahhh!”.

There is no denying the beauty can get you far in this world, but it only goes up to a point, and when you have reached that point what in the world do you have left to show for yourself? What do you have left to offer yourself? When too much emphasis is placed on beauty instead of the development of a full person I think that a person’s sexual growth is stunted. The sexiest thing in the world to me is a person who knows just who the hell they are at the moment and has a sense of direction. The confidence that just beams out of them is more powerful than any pheromone a body can produce. Unfortunately this kind of attraction often gets swept aside in the media in the name of beauty, but it is this kind of attraction that is the real feet sweeper and causes all the swooning.\

Every now and then you will get a celebrity that comes into the light that has this thing called an “it” factor. Randy from American Idol refers to it as “Yo”. It takes more than a pretty face and a great singing voice to have that “yo” factor, it requires confidence and individuality that pours out even when you are not moving your lips. That is the sign of a true personality. But note that just because some guy or some girl has this personality does not mean that they are necessarily a kind and generous person, only very sure of themselves at the moment – nothing more and nothing less. If humbleness was a requirement for the “yo” factor, not too many assholes would be getting any action. But assholes get a lot of action because being an asshole is the simplest and easiest way to recreate this “yo” factor. And it was this “yo” factor the cute guy at the sushi restaurant had. It was just something in his eyes that screamed I am alive and participating in life - maybe in legal or illegal ways, but at least I am participating.

To sum up tonight I had bad sushi, great buddy time, and witnessed the sexiest trait ever in action,

 that rare “yo” factor. So remember the next time you are looking at the guy or that girl and don’t know quite what it is about them that is attracting you to them, especially if its not their looks, remember that it might be that “yo” factor and its worth a shot to check them out if you are single and available and looking for something more than cookie cut out knight in shining armor or playboy paper damsel-in-distress doll.

 

Always in lust,

A sexfused kitten now known as Tight Cherry

P.S. There ought to be a law against bad California Rolls. How in the world do you mess that up??? Oh and don’t forget to find out what your porn star name is!

Last night was the first time for many things…

 

Hello and welcome to the blog of a sexedfused young woman. I plan on using this blog as a tool of exploration of my individual sexuality as well as the human sexual condition of life itself. I am not an expert or a professional of anything. In fact I consider myself rather naïve when it comes to topics of a sexual nature and life overall. If you are looking for sex stories or tranny grannies, you got the wrong blog here. But if you are looking for an alternative view to the many alternative/underground blogs on sexual issues, you may have found the right spot. So feel free to leave me a comment at any time and let me know how the hell you do with this thing called life and that frustrating condition known as being horny… Oh! I almost forgot. Thank you for reading the first of many posts.

 

The Bird, the Rubber, and the Dreamer

 

Last night I cruised around with two chicas looking for some trouble or spice to add to our boredom. I felt like preying on some guys for the hell of it. But I actually think I am all talk and not so much action when it comes to dicks, but it was fun just to entertain the possibilities. Besides, in the location where we were at all the guys were either under the age of 18 or were with their girls.

Our first stop for the night was at Chili’s, the casual family restaurant. This particular location was in the city of . After scavenging to find a parking spot, we finally made our way in only to be horrified by the sight of so many people. I asked my two companians for the night if they really wanted to wait in line at a Chili’s. They both shook their heads no. So we dashed away from that dreaded plaza of over priced/over hyped food and off into the night.

 

Three picky eaters could not decide off of the top of their heads what the hell we wanted for dinner. Instead we were enraptrued by the pretty moon. The moon seemd more friendly last night than most nights. But soon our stomachs took attention away from it. It was not until we made our way into and passed by a well known chicken restaurant that one of us suggested a spot to eat. “Let’s eat at El Pollo Inka” one friend said. We all had heard from someone's mother/cousin/co-worker that the food was good. With no better alternatives present I made a U-turn and pulled into a convenient parking spot right near the entrance. It was almost as if the very gods of dinner wanted to feed us Peruvian chicken tonight. We entered through the doors and instantly became horrified with what looked like an even larger crowd waiting to be seated. But it was only an illusion caused by tinted mirrors that made the room seem to be significantly larger than what it really was.

 

While waiting to be seated we enjoyed live Peruvian music with some western inspiration here and there and really yummy food. We also tripped out on the demonic looking chick - as in baby chicken that was holding a piece of cooked chicken, I think a leg for the logo. It seemed like it was looking at us so mean. I told my friends, "Whoa, that's one cannibalistic chicken". At one point I had a peanut scare when one of my friends said she tasted peanuts in a special sauce. But so far I was ok. I did not have a reaction. I asked the waiter if the restaurant used any peanut products at all and he said no. My friends however said that he probably did not understand my English and that when he came back around they would ask him in Spanish. It has been a couple of hours since and I did not have a reaction. I know, I know close call. Don’t get on me about my allergies. My reaction to peanuts is not that of a fatal kind. It just makes me really sick and crampy. Instead my fatal reaction is sparked by grasses and molds other natural occurring things that are just out in the world and can switch me into hives or anaphylactic shock.

 

Back to the rest of the story.

 

After eating a very tasty meal, we headed into the car wondering just what in the world we were going to do next. That predator side of me came out again. I think it comes out when I chew Bubble mint Orbits. There is something inside that pink metallic box that screams "Make you bad!". I was wondering just where three high school friends who were now adults could go and get some action. Bowling seemed like too much work since we were not feeling up for it.  Instead one of the chicas suggested we go to an adult store. I had never been to one before and I felt really comfortable with them so I decided to go. We headed over to the Secret Desires in , an adult shop that mostly caters to girly, naughty women who feel like being bad for a sugar daddy or two. They did not have too much going on, but we were told by the very friendly store associate that more was coming in. We checked out the whips, the paddles, the vibrators, the dildos and as always whenever anyone is in an adult shop, we learned something new about plugs and lubrication.

 

The porn selection was the very last thing we browsed. For some reason when we all finally made it to the wall far in the back of the store the rock music that was playing faded away and was replaced by deaf air. I don’t know if you have ever heard deaf air. It is as if you can only hear up to a six feet radius and you are surrounded by the muted sounds of life. You can hear thumps and foot steps and even voices but an actual violin would sound muffled as if someone is chocking it. We all heard that deaf air when confronted by the transsexuals and barely legal pregnant teens and naked classics such as Caligula in the aisles. After being slightly disgusted by the amount of flesh and the variations of it we turned back around and looked at some more cute outfits. Even though the place was supposedly having a sale, everything in that particular Secret Desires was high as hell. I still bought Kimonos anyway. Don’t get on me about the price. My significant other had decided a couple of weeks ago to have a sex out. So instead of getting actual penetration, I have been dealing mostly with various forms of oral, hand jobs, and extremely sensual cuddling. But I missed the penetration, so I finally gave in at that price just to end the sex out.

 

 

 

 

 

He pretty much stopped having sex with me until I bought some condoms to prove to him that I was not a prude when it comes to shopping for rubbers. When asked why I held out for so long I told my partner and my friend that I had this crazy idea that if I bought the condoms it would be bad luck because they would not work as properly when purchased by a woman, specifically purchased by me – anyone else was the exception but me. As you read future posts you will learn that I am a rather odd person.

 

After buying the condoms I went to his job to try to drop them off and give him a hint, but I was not able to get him to come out until after he got off. He came to my house and drove us around and the at night until two in the morning. It was a sort of sweet little ride even though we heard gun shots in an alley not to far away from his home. Some guy was really heated. You could hear his loud mean voice echoing into the main street. But I did not want to get into any adventures of the dangerous nature at that time, especially with some random gangs fighting over stupid shit. Besides my guy was too tired from a hard day at work to get into any action – though he is always looking for trouble. He was sad about his orders and his beloved… um.. box that was not looking too well.

When he took me back home I tried writing in this blog. But I ended up talking to the boyfriend for a little bit. We had a nice conversation where we pretty much talked to sleep. I made a breakthrough in my life by realizing just what kind of a shallow bitch I am. He made a breakthrough by actually getting some rest on time. I was the one slightly awake enough to let the poor guy get some real rest. After I let him go I settled in and had the weirdest dream…

 

Ok. You guys might think this is strange, and if you randomly were to read this blog and just happen to know me, I might be giving away too much of my identity but oh well. I have this strange strong crush on Robin Thicke. It came out of no where. I heard one of his songs and like any artists I checked him out and bam. I fell in love. I love his voice. I love his look. I love his lyrics. In some of his songs it feels like he is really singing to you and just asking to get some serious pantie dropping and pantie throwing at him. In others it kind of sounds like he might be singing to his wife. Yes. Damn wife! But it is sort of comforting to know that someone else he knows in real life took him instead of me agonizing over his singleness and me never getting a chance at him due to stardom and sprungness torture.

 

Anyway, I had a dream about the guy. A really intense, sexual dream where he pretty much made me squirt for the first time. He had this lingering effect where though the sex was ok at the moment throughout the day my clit just started aching and burning for him again and it was if all the orgasms decided to come around after he left. I guess you got to always leave them wanting more. That was one heck of a way to do it. Each time we met the sex just kept getting better and better and more intense, which makes me wonder if there is a point where you can't have better sex... I read a long time ago that most humans and fairies - yes like Thumbellina and little people with wings - can't have true sex. The fairies have to hold back. What we think of as awesome sex is what they get out of just holding hands with each other. So if a fairy were to go all out with a human and just unleash their sexual potential, it would kill a human. Like our bodies would explode or something. We just can't handle it.

 

back to the dream.

 

What’s so strange is that my dream incorporated places and people from my real life. That never happens in my dreams. I am a star wars, star trekking, Conan the barbarianing, sailor mooning, dreaming kind of a girl. Not this reality based shit. We fucked in my house. We fucked in his limo. And he was really digging me. But every time I brought up his wife he always had this sad, sad face. He never said that they were over, but he never said that they were together either. His wife in real life by the way is the beautiful actress Paula Patton. She is a freakin hottie. They make such a pretty couple. But anyway. It was so strange how intense this dream was. I even heard my dad talking about how he would get me tickets to Thicke’s concert but he disliked the guy due to what he had seen on Access Hollywood. My dad did not know I was seeing Thicke, after all this is a married mad. It was kind of funny how my dad was just mouthing off about the guy and Thicke was just standing downstairs on his way out quietly listening to the conversation. In fact it was strangely the most normal dream I have ever had, except for the fact that it contained a celebrity. No vampires, no fairies, no apocalypses, no mermaids, no aliens, no lasers, no swords, no talking birds or phoenixes... No fantasy stuff except for the fantasy of fucking Robin Thicke. And that was not even my fantasy. I just really like him. A lot. hmm...

 

That’s enough on Thicke for now. Gosh. I rarely get like this about males, but when I do they hit me hard. At least before it was with guys I knew in real life, not someone so incredibly unrealistic. But now I understand how women get about Michael Jackson and The Beatles and the horrible over actor Justin Timberlake.

 

I guess last night was a first night for many things. The first time I bought condoms, the first time I walked into an adult store, the first time I went to El Pollo Inka, and the first time I dreamed of having sex with a celebrity in such an explicit way… The first time I squirted, even if it was in a dream, I woke up fucking soaked. Oh I am so ashamed of my dream. I have watched a lot of porn in my life and this would have made even me blush. Last night was also the first time I would have post, but I guess I had to save this for today.

 

Happy April Fools Day! And be careful with the pranks.

They can be dangerous yo!

 

Always in lust,

 

A sexfused kitten