, , ,

If you blush at a word rhymed with hex, Tex, and flecks,

A word with alliterative friends sip, senses, and specks

Then, do not click Read More for the thing you do next.

If a word I once gamed into Snore Spasm brings hives

Or, use slang for the word for which douche was contrived

Then, do not click Read More and run for your lives.

(And, have a wonderful day.)



Here we are on the other side of that READ MORE button.

In case you got here in error, this is your last chance to leave before I officially shout the words to which my pathetic where-is-my-Dr-Seuss-brain-when-I-need-him poem referred.

Still here?


I cannot believe I’m going to type these words. And, guess what! I’m going to put them in bold letters.




[You can’t say I didn’t warn you.]

For the last few months, I’ve been following a series written by the very talented August McLaughlin, in which she invites discussion about the oft verboten topic of female sensuality, sex, and orgasms. In the event you want to read the first in the series, here’s a handy link to that article. Unlike my dysfunctional glob, you can bounce through the series using August’s sidebar.

The name of this series?


In her first GB post, August reminisces about her Sex Education in school. This moment in my education is one of my “where were you when” moments. Right up there with the night I spent at a friend’s house and learned that boys put their you know in a woman’s you know to make babies.


At that age, I didn’t even know there was a you know next to my URETHRA.

[I put urethra in caps because I almost typed wee-wee.]

One article led to the next and I discovered there was much I did not know.

This-is-so-naughty-I-shouldn’t-be-reading-it thoughts collapsed under the pressure of curiosity and (BONUS!) a character quirk I needed for one of my protagonist’s bouncing-the-thoughts ball.

This quirky bouncing-the-thoughts ball middle-aged character is now on a mission to discover everything she can about Kegels and female sensuality and orgasms.

Only one sticky wicket.

I did not KNOW what I didn’t KNOW.

Plus! And this is no lie.

[I have been known to lie outrageously fib on occasion.]

I knew I could not write about a middle-aged character’s quest to find her sensuality and correctly identify all things female without taking that journey myself.

[Yeah. I know. The sacrifices writers make in their quest to get in the head of their characters. Exhausting!]

How old was I when I first heard the term G-spot? Oh – current age minus three years equals…

How old was I when I learned what G-spot meant and where it’s located? Oh – current age minus one month equals…

In the interest of literary genius curiosity run amok, I purchased a book August mentioned in one of her comments.

Female OrgasmAt first I thought, “Could they have made the book title a tiny more obvious? Gaaah! I cannot take this book into Starbucks to read on my breaks!”

Memories of my school years — when brown grocery sacks morphed into book covers — to the rescue!

[Insert visual of me as a cheerleader, waving my pompoms and doing a split. Yeah. I’d like to see that visual, too. I was so not cheerleader material in high school.]

But, I digress…


I created a book cover for my new treasure trove of all things female.

MEN O Pause[Cue reworded “Getting to Know Me” music. Please and Thank-you]

I could go on and on…

And, on…

For more words than you likely care to read about what I learned between the covers of this book.

I’ll sum it up with one word,


Thanks to Central Market, I now have a book I can carry with me for reference. Bonus! If has nifty handles, so I can carry it around like a purse.

Scenes for my quirky character birthed themselves in my noggin as I read this book.

When August issued a fantasy challenge in her last post, I was hot ready.

She invited snippets, true stories, or short stories describing a sexual fantasy.

I chose a  short story.

Why? Aside from the fact that it offered the highest word count for my yappy fingers…


[I’ll get back to you on the ending to that sentence. ‘Kay?]

If you’d like to read her post today, my short story is featured there, along with other snippets of very interesting sexual fantasies.

Full and Fair Disclosure: August’s Girl Boner series, the fantasy snippets, and my own short story do not fall into the PG category. So, PLEASE, if you think suggestive language or (as is the case with my story) profanity might cross your heat tolerance line, approach this particular post with caution.

I L-O-V-E August McLaughlin’s blog.

The Girl Boner series is only part of the treasure she shares in posts both health and serenity related. In other words, she ROCKS! I re-blogged one of her recent posts. You can link to that here. Here’s a link to another one of my recent favorites. Don’t ask me why but “Reassuring Facts for the Creatively Compulsive” snapped my oh-so-disciplined garter.

How much of my short story is real and how much is fiction?

I’ll never tell.

Telling lies Creating fantasy worlds and characters is, after all, what writers do for a living to satisfy their overactive libidos creative souls.

So! Did I shock the Holy Mackerel out of you? You won’t want to read my book if I did because my quirky, middle-aged character reveals more than the cover of this book.

In public.

In front of Alpha Male. With requests for additional Intel.

Leave a comment so I know I haven’t been banned from your reading list forever. And, make it a wonderful day — however you choose to define that today.