Survivor and Sexy

As a beautiful, horny, breast cancer survivor with now long blonde hair, I have to make a confession. I have been seeing the past come back at me.  In all stages of my treatment, I was too scared to talk about the effects of all I had been thru and what the treatments would leave behind. A completely new me?
I am a rather young and sensual person. I love touching a man's neck, shoulders and.......breast cancer didn't take the desire for doing that.
I dream of reverse cowgirl position and doggie-style and even two men at the same time. Cancer didn't touch the sexual animal in me.!
The topic may sound silly but please forgive me, I have "inhaled" and I'm feeling great! The problem with me is whenever I feel physically finished, I will inhale just before bed but what I have discovered is I am in a state of TURBO LIBIDO!
I am single...of course and "it just isn't decent" for a lady to want/ask for sex. Especially a breast cancer survivor? There is a portion of folks that seem to believe that you're no longer a woman with mastectomy scars, fake breasts and prosthetic breasts.  Well, I just so happen to have breasts that "are fake...and they are spectacular.
I'm again am a 38DD and I would love to have them loved, stroked and kissed from time to time. I don't know if it's the 'inhaler' I used but I am more prone to talk and share.
For example, I am naked at this computer bouncing up and down trying to release some written wisdom and the pounding between my legs. Cancer didn't take away my kinky side.
I watch porn. Of course this lady watches! I love the hardcore "get right to it" action. I thought of trying to be in adult porn just so I could relieve my near constant state of arousal. I walk around naked most of the time and when I go to work or etc,.I leave the panties at home. I've always "gone commando." It feels wonderful and with my pussy completely bald, the sensations are fantastic.
There is a man I have fantasized about for a few days...even masturbated calling out his name! But I am too shy to TALK to him. I want him to want my body because I really want his. Breast cancer didn't take the "kink" out of me!
In my dreams, I will walk over to him, wrap a leg around him, unzip his pants and caress his dick while forcing it into my very wet pu**y. He is almost too big and too hard to get inside me  but I'll stroke my clitoris to get him inside of me because I am now tight as a virgin since there's been no penetration for a long time. Too long!
So now as a breast cancer survivor whose nearly a frustrated sex addict.  I can get liquid or herbal courage if needed to enhance my libido, spontaneous orgasms and try to control the intensity of those orgasms before this starts interfering with my daily life. I'm afraid.
But just between us, I want sex very day!  I watch porn as I said before and at times wish I were the "recipient" of a DP or even better--a Gangbang! But I'm supposed to be a good girl! Oh, I'll be your good girl if you lift up my dress and spank me with your bare hand--you can have me.  My Goodness, I shouldn't be thinking of things like that.  No sex toys at my house, I want a real man to "break me in-again"!
I'm turning into the "lady in the street but a freak in the bed"...well, good for me! Breast cancer didn't take away the "freak" in me after all. 
Uh, Oh.................I'm feeling a spontaneous orgasm...............CUMMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Lovers: Worst to First!

It may not be conduct becoming of a lady but I have had requests to blog about some of my lovers and I don't like to disappoint. As the blog continues, I might have to excuse myself and "play with myself until I climax" if I tell too much about certain lovers!
As the title says, I'm going worst to first so let's just start at the first, shall we? My first sexual partner was unfortunately my worst lover. He couldn't help it I guess. I was thirteen, he was fifteen and I literally walked up to him and asked him to "show me what sex was." I ran with girls from fifteen to seventeen and dammit, I wanted to be able to put my "two cents in" from time to time!!
My first was "Rich." I went to his house, he put me on his bed and tried to put himself inside of me but ended up--I think--just using his fingers. And his kiss was like as old sock! "So that's it?" I asked.
"Pretty much." he said. Oh well.
My #3 lover was older and "Dale" had the largest penis I had ever seen. He took me to his place and tried time after time to "enter me" but he was so thick that he couldn't get inside of me. As understanding as he could be, he proceeded to "show me a couple of things." He showed me that I could cum from using his tongue and I learned how to perform oral sex on him! Surprisingly, I love and prefer giving oral sex than receiving! Ultimately, he addicted me to sex especially once he was able to put all of his dick inside me over and over and over again.
My #2 most satisfying lover is "Jon." We was also well-endowed and loved sex and by now, I wanted daily! He was only too happy to oblige. "Jon" loved to have sex outside, put me in positions like "reverse cowgirl," and on my knees and "do me" from behind. I have a small vagina but I learned a long time ago that I like 'em big and to hurt just a bit. Guess he made me a sex addict...if there is such a thing.
Tied at #2 is "Bo" who would let me experiment on him! I liked riding him--once I go that thick, hard penis up inside of me. I'd have to play with my own clit to get a bit wetter to make it less painful to get in me. He'd grab my hips and run me back and forth over his dick and I'd bounce up and down on him until we were cumming at the same time with screams and moans.
An Honorable Mention is "Ray" the 18 year old who had a thing for older women...I was 29, he was 18. He taught me that young men love experimentation and I still dream of the possibility of two men at the same time one day...blame that desire on "Ray."
Before I get to my most satisfying lover, let me say this. I have to deal with my high sex drive on a regular basis. I have a fetish for military men and police officers., Threaten to lift my skirt and give me a spanking (I do not wear underwear) makes me weak in the knees. No, I'm no S & M girl, but I do prefer to be FUCKED than MADE LOVE TO. There is a difference. I love the both and prefer the former. Don't judge!!
My most satisfying lover was "Jeff." He was my baby's daddy and turned me into his own sexual slave. I wore garters, fishnets and high heels for him, made love to him on the front porch in broad daylight and I can't tell u how many times we made love in our various cars. He, too was large and knew exactly how to make me cum using either his mouth, cock or tongue. And I was grateful for it!
He and I had to part ways and now my sexlife/fantasies pretty much go unfulfilled. Thankfully, I'll looking for lovers/lover who'll enable me to see a few new men in the future.
Now, if you will excuse me, I must take my wet naked body into the bedroom until I can find a way to satisfy myself.
I certainly am craving another lover if you're out there. Interested?

It Was Just Lunch

I met "Bill" for lunch at my newly designated first date restaurant.  From what I knew of him, he was a very nice looking professional man who had grown up on the West Coast. Now this Southern Belle wasn't about to hold that against him.
I always try to be fifteen minutes early for a date so I can get the table or an available one already set with napkins and water waiting for my date. I think that is a welcoming gesture. The man arrives and the table and date are already in the "welcome, let's get to know each other" mood.
Bill was as handsome as was his photo. I have had great luck with online dating lately so a man that resembles his photo is great in my book.
We began talking--the "getting to know you" thing and I liked the way he spoke and the interest he seemed to have in his marketing career. I shared some of my experiences as an RN and how I hoped to return to it soon and he seemed impressed. We were getting along.
I took a drink of my water and adjusted my necklace. I like to wear the gold cross I got from my son for my recent birthday. As I adjusted the necklace, I caught sight of "Bill" whose entire attitude seemed to change towards me. He had a condescending smile and a slight roll of his eyes.
"Oh," he said, "you're one of 'those' people."
"What do you mean "those people?" I asked.
"You're one of those folks living here in the Bible Belt who go around peddling that invisible man whose living in the clouds and his story of sending his "son" (making a jazz hands gesture here) to save the world from sin. Well I'm an atheist and I'm never going to be converted." he said.
"All I did was adjust the necklace my son bought me for my birthday--you seem to be the one judging intentions."
"Well, I knew you were a Christian but I just didn't know to such a degree." he said.
"There's no degree and I'm not peddling anything. I simply adjusted a necklace so I would not be distracted while trying to get to know you better." I said. "Oh, will you excuse me?" I asked, "I have to go to the restroom."
I was pretty stunned at what had happened. "Bill" was nice and everything but he wasn't worth a free lunch. If the sight of a cross on a gold chain can upset him like this, what else would?
I wasn't going to hang around so as soon as I was finished in the bathroom, I washed my hands and left! Yep, I just headed for the exit, got in my car and headed home. Isn't there a passage in the Bible that tells us to "shake the dirt off our feet" if we know that someone isn't going to listen to us? That's what I did--sort of. I used the bathroom, washed my hands and "Bill" out of my life for good!
Wonder how long it took before he realized I was gone!!
Isn't getting to know people fun?????

Old Lovers and Be Careful What You Wish For (Updatedf)

This is a revised and updated version of the post of nearly the same name. The last post somehow was deleted and with the events that have passed since, I felt an update was in order.
When Rick D*******a sent me a friend request via Facebook I was immediately stunned. Then I became suspicious. Why would he want to locate me? Who put him up to doing this? Why now? Of course my next thought was that his marriage must be in trouble--didn't know if he was married or not butt I figured if he is trying to contact me--something is wrong at home.
Rick is that nice, sweet polite guy who isn't really physically attractive but the way he treats you makes you want to leave your panties at home. He was like that in college. I didn't know he was engaged the night he ended up in my dorm room and in my bed. All I knew was this was my first real man and I asked him to 'go slow with me.' I had never had a man send my clitoris into spasms nor had a man give it a tender kiss but Rick did and in short, I was his.
We had this secret between us that was never revealed. The last time Rick came to my room, he was armed with a Bible. He read James 1: 8 to me about the "double-minded man" being unstable in all his ways and told me that I had made him this way because sleeping with me was interfering with his relationship with his fiancé. Kinda felt a weird sense of pride that somehow I had driven this man to the Bible for answers--but to what?
He was dumping me and I guess feeling badly about it. But he didn't feel too badly for that "one last ride." So we went to bed together 'one last time' and then afterwards, he never spoke to me or looked in my direction the remains years of college.
Thirty years later, I get a Facebook Friend Request from none other than Rick! He made his request in September but I couldn't figure out what to do until May. I was surprised he didn't give up. To be honest, I really don't remember a lot from my college years so I was reluctant to answer his post. But a step at a time I would post to him and to be honest, he was a wonderful distraction during my last radiation treatments for breast cancer. He said he hurt for me when he read I had cancer and he'd thought of me often during the years.
I was fascinated that he was still married to the girl he was engaged to when he was sneaking into my bed on occasion. How is somebody married 30 years? An amazing feat if you ask me!! But you know something? 30 years DOES change a person. Rick would text me "Thinking of you" on the days of my treatment which made me feel better. Then we began sexting to each other. I had never done this before but I must say I can give E.L.James a run for her money when it comes to talking dirty to a man! But this wasn't the 25yr old boy who used to sneak in my room at night I was sexting, this was a 57yr old married man, grandfather and business owner. Ugh
Through a strange occurrence, Rick came to see me right after a treatment. I was excited and nervous because I was about to see in person the guy who read the Bible to me before he "laid and left me" 30 years ago! Wow!
When he arrived, I realized he wasn't the guy in my head. 30 years had worn on him but his eyes were as blue as the first time he was looking up at me in bed. His hair was as white as snow and his hands were as rough as anyone who works in the fields. We did some fast catching up and I held his hand through it all and ventured up and down his arms feeling those muscles I remembered in college. He kissed me as hard and as passionately as he had done in school and I felt his tongue in my mouth flow all the way down to my clitoris--just like in school.
But this wasn't going to be a Lifetime Movie where the college lovers reunite and live happily ever after. This story ended before an affair could begin. 30 years have taught me that  woman must be her own person and live or die by her choices. I chose to see Rick that day and even though you could see the 30 years on his face, he was still the sweet boy who read the Bible to, made love to you then dumped you for his then fiancé now wife.
He asked me did I remember the first time we'd made love and I should've asked him did he remember the last time we made love. 30 years later a dream was stopped before a nightmare could begin.  Sometimes the fantasy is far better than the reality.

Well I Thought It Was Funny!!

This morning I was shopping for silk stockings when I heard a clerk say, "You look like Santa Claus." I looked back at the voice and sure enough, there was a man who from the neck up looked just like Santa, Kris Kringle, etc., and apparently was "licensed" to let everyone know when Christmas would arrive.
I turned to continue shopping but all of the sudden "Santa" walks towards me with a Smartphone in his hand and in a loud voice for all the other customers to hear verbatim he says,
"Hey Little Girl, would you like to know how many days you have left?"
 Never one to miss an opportunity to shut something like this down I said, "Actually, I'm battling breast cancer right now so if you don't mind, I'd like to keep the "days I have left" a surprise!"
Well? What do you think?
I thought it was funny.
In my defense, he didn't ask me if I wanted to know how many days it was until Christmas--he SAID "do you want to know how many days you have left?" Besides, nothing good ever happened to me when the sentence started out with, "Hey Little Girl."
I think I've always been a smartass/comic because of necessity. It's not safe for a "girl child" to be around in the world alone...to paraphrase "The Color Purple." But sometimes Girls, don't you just want to shop in peace?
Apparently, the young clerk first speaking with "Santa" was giddy at the idea that he had actually seen the jolly old elf's license. He said, "I'll be a good boy from now on, ok Santa?" Now we are all grown people here--not a child in the building! Got a bit creepy to be honest.
"You do that." Santa said, "You're going to love your presents in 214 days."  
Santa didn't have to say a thing to me--I know exactly what will be in my stocking this year. A big lump of coal! At least that lump of coal will be in silk stockings!!!
So what have we learned?
Today is May 25 and there are 214 days left until Christmas!!!!!


(BTW--my last radiation treatment is June 5th and that will be the day I declare myself as "Breast Cancer Survivor!)

Happy Memorial Day

Understanding Alice.

I hadn't seen Alice, my biological mother in more than a year. Readers of my blog may recall the "relationship" she and I have. The last time I saw her was March 2014 when I went to the hospital to bring her the glasses that were found out in the yard at her apartment. She hadn't been seen that day so when a neighbor had gotten curious and looked in her window, he saw her lying on the living room floor unconscious--or dead. By the time I was notified, the next day, she'd had total hip surgery and would be going to a nursing home upon discharge. Later that evening, I took her glasses that had been found in the yard--apparently dropped by the ambulance crew that had gotten her the previous day. I knocked, walked into her room and said, "I brought your glasses."
"You get the hell out of here," she said, drawing her fist back at me, "don't you come back and that goes for that bitch Lily and Tommy, too." (Lily is her sister and Tommy is her son.)
I don't know why this exchange shocked me. Oh sure, the little girl in me always wants that "Lifetime Movie" moment when mean old Mom sees the err of her ways and begs forgiveness for everything she ever did or said--but this still "Alice" and to her, I was the reason she never got the life she wanted or deserved. But I understand.
"Mom" was 18 months old when she was sitting in her mother's lap that day. Dad came in and began stabbing her mother with a butcher knife. Aunt Lilly was four years old but got away, ran to a neighbor and told them her Daddy was killing her mom and baby sister. The police arrived to find their mother dying on the floor and Alice beside her unharmed but crying and soaked in her mother's blood. Unlike "Dexter," Alice grew up unguarded, unguided and unloved...but not a serial killer.
It must've been rough growing up with Lily as her sister. Lily was the first-born, the beauty, the "good one," by contrast--Alice wasn't any of those things. So I understand. Lily got pregnant and got married...Alice got pregnant, got dumped. She had me--then I got dumped.
Over the years, Alice let me know that I had her life. "We were getting married and then you showed up." she'd say. "If abortion were legal back then, you certainly wouldn't be here," she'd say. "She doesn't know what she's saying," I'd say to myself.  But I understood.
I was a cheerleader from fourth grade to my senior year of high school--she never saw me once. She didn't come to any of my graduations but she did come to my wedding--walked right by me, kissed "him" on the cheek and said, "I always wanted a son." She never married and here was my wedding. Her question was always, "Why did you get everything?" But I understand.
Last June, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and have been in treatment after my double mastectomy. I can't help but smile to think what Alice would say if she knew I'd "had my boobs cut off." She was barely a 32A  while I was a 38DD. (My fakes are that size, too!) She'd be very happy. I understand.
I hadn't seen Alice in over a year and there'd be weeks that she wouldn't even enter my mind. Was that okay? Was I hanging onto that sad hope that we'd someday be "Mother and Daughter"? No--but I was missing something. May 10th was Mother's Day and it hit me. I knew what to do.
After church, I went to the nursing home. A woman who looked like her was sitting in a wheelchair draped in a little green blanket. "Alice?" I asked.
"Who are you?" the woman said--it was Alice. So I went to her and said, "I'm just someone you used to know." Then I gave her a box of "honey buns" and a single red rose surrounded in 'baby's breath' tied by a red ribbon with a card that read, "Happy Mother's Day---I Forgive You."
It wasn't done for her, it was for me. Face-to-face, end of an era. She'd be spending the rest of her life in this nursing home, pretending to be senile. She's finally being pampered, waited on hand and foot and at last, rid of me.  That's all she ever wanted...and I understand.

My Church Dilemma

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in June of 2014. Proper doctors and proper treatment have given me a pretty good chance of beating this disease but there seemed to be an emptiness in my support system. I wanted to start going to church. I wanted a "church family." I basically wanted someplace to go where I could blend in and hear something else besides cancer talk. But church members don't come knocking at your front door. Right?
Two days after this thought occurred to me, a woman actually did come knocking at my door with a flyer describing a "supper" being sponsored by her church. It seemed like an "Ask and 'ye shall receive" type thing to me so I decided to check it out.  Preconceived notions aside, I had a good time. They served spaghetti and salad with very little "Bible talk." I've always heard of a "praising church" but I hadn't been in one and was really surprised at the themes of love, happiness and the "father" God and His love for all of us, not the hateful old man "God" who was just waiting for us to screw up.  I started going to this church every Sunday.
The small town church is idyllic and a few people I had known from high school attend there.  "James" was the first male cheerleader our high school ever had--his wife and six kids attend as does "Belinda" who at age fourteen was swimming at the neighborhood pool when her "Kotex" decided to detach and float right along side her! Back then, we didn't know about tampons, pantiliners or why swimming when you were having your "monthly" was a good idea at all! "Reggie" and "Tina" were still together after marrying during their senior year and NOT because she was pregnant! Almost every Sunday it seems that someone else from the Class of 1980 re-appears though most of my high school memories don't!
At last Sunday's service, reality hit. The congregation stood up for opening prayer and as the assistant pastor was bringing his prayer to a close  he said, "and may God remove the idea of gay marriage."
What the ****??!!
I raised my head and opened my eyes without thinking. Not only was this a surprise to hear, I didn't see the relevance. In all of the time I'd been attending, I hadn't heard anything but encouraging words and examples of how God loved "each and every one of us." Well, that includes gay people, right? God made them, too.
I was very disappointed and shouldn't have been so surprised but what did surprise me was the assistant pastor's unusual reason for opposing gay marriage. According to him, churches refusing to perform gay weddings would lose their tax-exempt status. So he was afraid the church would pay taxes? I began to wonder if I could continue going to this church with it's sudden anti-gay marriage stand. It may have always been their stand but this was the first time I'd heard any anti-gay remarks at all.
It reminded me of the times when closing prayer at Mass included requests for God to end abortion. The priest would use words like "sin" and  "abomination" of abortion, some of the same words used to describe homosexuality now that I think of it. I'm pro-choice and pro-"who you love is who you love and it's none of my business--just be happy." Could I "agree to disagree" with this assistant pastor and keep attending? Ignore this assistant pastor and keep attending? Deep in my heart, I think he is wrong, he doesn't speak for the congregation and he may have just taken it upon himself to "enlighten some of the deacons about a potential money issue" if gay marriage is granted to the entire country by the Supreme Court.
I find a family-style comfort in this church and can't let one man make me stay home on Sundays. Besides, Gandhi reminds us that "the only thing wrong with Christianity, at times, is its Christians."