One thing I have to say...

Listening to King and Queen go at it always turns me on. Always. They're at it right now, and I'm in here at my computer because I'm off limits at the moment... and one thing about Queen is she's never quiet when it comes to sex. I usually am, at least up until recently. I'm learning to be loud. God, I'm so hot... and I can't do anything about it... damn Mother Nature.

Anatomy of a Blowjob

If there's any one thing that I can pinpoint as the pinnacle of my sexual evolution, it's my ability to give a really good blowjob.

I've only just recently learned how to give exceptional head in the last year or so, and my first forays into this particularly tricky part of active sex lives were less than stellar. Accidental scrapings of teeth, a highly sensitive gag reflex, and the inability to breath were all road block on the highway of my sexual achievement.

I remember my initial reaction to being asked to "go down" on my guy at-the-time was, "You want me to put my what where and do- huh-uh, no way, buddy." It took coaxing and a lot of it, and the first time I did it, I honestly felt that I was going to choke or vomit or both. It was a horrible experience for the both of us, and I vowed (to myself, anyway) that I would never repeat it.

I, of course, was lying to myself. I did do it again- after much more begging, pleading, and a few outright threats of withholding sex from me. I got nominally better at it, but I still didn't enjoy it. It was mostly the taste that turned me off of it. I would later learn that all dick didn't that like that- it was just his.

After he and I broke up and I emotionally moved on, I took to sleeping with my new roommate and my best friend, who I will call Ace for the purposes of this blog. Ace taught me many things during my short stay at his apartment and in his bed- one of which was how to give a really fantastic blowjob.

He taught me that the secret of a blowjob wasn't speed or suction, or any of those things you see in really bad downloaded porn, it was the sensuality of it. It had to start at a slow and gentle speed and build to a rising crescendo of passion and heat and need. Once started, no blowjob should ever be left unfinished. It's not fair to either party involved.

A really fine blowjob should end with the man quivering, wanting more but not being able to take it, splayed out, limbs akimbo with a look of muted pleasure etched onto the features of his face.

Of course, the eternal question is: spit or swallow? I personally have found myself unable to swallow as of yet. Maybe one day I will, but for now, it's best for me to have a towel nearby to aid in the cleanup process.

Queen expressed the sentiment the other day that she wants to see me give King a good sober blowjob (that particular phrasing is another story in and of itself) one day. It's a role I'm more than willing to fill- over and over again. I no longer cringe at the idea of having a man's most private part in my hand and in my mouth. In fact, these days I revel in it.

Erector Set, Indeed!

Today over at Eros Blog, there's a mighty fine product being showcased, available from JT's Stockroom.


A little scary, a little interesting, but holy crap, is it expensive.

Evolution of a Tease

I've mentioned that I work at Conglomo*Mart, I believe. I love it there, even if I am feeding this nation's obsession with consumerism.

I now work in the Automotive department, entering cars into our systems so they can get various tire and oil work done to them. It's a job I begged for months to get. I belong in that section of the store, it's where I'm happiest.

Now, in the last six months, I've grown up a lot, and I've learned that men like to look at me. Why, I don't know. I don't consider myself that pretty, and I probably never will. However, I do know that other people do, and I'm not above a promising smile, a flirtatious flick of the wrist while handing a customer their keys, or a provocative lean over the counter while I'm getting their information from them.

I wear mostly long and flowing skirts to work these days because I enjoy the freedom and comfort of them. I have long legs, and pants don't let my stride be as wide as I like it to be. I'm like a gazelle at times.

Let me explain about the tire racks at my store. There's an upstairs and a downstairs. Downstairs is where the smaller tires go- the ones that fit the Geos and the Volkswagens. Upstairs are the bigger tires, the ones that fit normal size cars and the ones that fit the big trucks. Most people that come in, they need tires off the top racks. The flooring of the top racks are metal grating that if you look up you can see right through. Two guesses what that means when I'm in a skirt, and the second guess shouldn't even be needed.

A year ago, six months ago, this would have bothered me. Now, with my newfound confidence levels and a bit of a better body to boot, I revel in it. If the technicians can't control themselves enough not to look up when I'm on the top racks, then they deserve their peek. And maybe, just maybe, the new cute technician will look up one of these days...

Good Morning...

I've taken to sleeping in King and Queen's room most nights. I enjoy the company, and there honestly isn't much worse in this world than having slept every night with someone for the better part of two years, and then not having that person there anymore to warm and share warmth with. Sometimes I think that's all there is to life, the pursuit of warmth.

King and Queen both work for the same company, just in different stores of it. I work at Conglomo*Mart, and Queen's store is in my Conglomo*Mart. We get to see each other fairly often throughout the day, and that cheers me up no matter how bad my day is going. My boyfriend also works at Conglomo*Mart, outside in the lot. He's cool with what he knows of my relationship with King and Queen, and that makes him awesome.

Anyway, I digress. Back to the pursuit of warmth.

Queen had to midshift this morning, because the person who makes the schedules forgot to schedule a midshift manager today. Yay for brains. I had all kinds of plans set up for Queen and I today, starting with waking her up. In my humble little opinion, there's nothing more wonderful than being in that little area between sleep and awake then being pulled into total awareness by the hands of your lover nudging your most sensitive areas. Now it was a moot point, and she had to work.

So she got up and went to work, and immediately, the heat from her body dissapated into the cold air of the early morning. I was covered in a knitted afgan and I could tell a difference almost instantaneously. I wiggled around until I came to rest against King's chest, then fell back into the bliss of dreamless sleep.

Some time later, I was woken by the feeling of King's nails dragging their way down my skin, producing that pleasurable tingle that I love so much. It seemed my plans had gotten turned around on me. No complaints here. Sex is a wonderful thing, but it is nothing without love driving it, and I love King and Queen dearly. They are my best friends, and I know that I am safest when I am with them. They understand my moods, and my needs. I hope things never ever change between us three.

Three Of A Kind beats a pair any day.

Blossoming...

I've been a pretty straightlaced girl all my life, up until now. I never wanted anything more than to have a family and a job that I could be proud of. I thought I had that, but then it all exploded in my face one cold night in November last year.

But that's neither here nor there now. That was the beginning of my sexual re-awakening, and as much as the pain hurts, the pleasure I've derived since then makes it all almost worth it.

I was a good girl. I gave my virginity to the man I planned to marry. Though that fell through, I felt no guilt about it. After we broke up, I looked back on our inept sexual escapades with fond memories and more than a little laughter. Looking back at that girl now, one wonders how she managed to even fit a guy in between her legs, much less have full blown sex with someone. She seems so ill-advised, that little girl of 20 in my mind. Someone should have taught that girl a thing or two about masturbation before she ever let a guy touch her.

It's funny that I've started this blog tonight- with the sounds of King and Queen pounding away in their room. I envy those two. They've been together forever, it seems, and their relationship is the strongest thing I've ever seen. The secret to it seems to be the open policy they have- which is where I come in. I'm Queen's girlfriend- since about a week ago. I'm completely new to this whole bisexual thing, and I surprised myself when I found out that I liked it. I'd always thought of myself as a straight girl, without even an inkling of thought about that kind of thing. I certainly didn't think I had that in me. Bisexuality was always Queen's territory. I'd joked around and said that if anyone was going to turn me, it was going to be her, but I was never serious about it.

Until April 28th, that is.

That was the night EVERYTHING changed for me.

Three double shots of Jose Cuervo brought the gay out in me. One minute I'm going down on King's magnificent, glorious cock, and doing a damned fine job of it, the next the room is spinning, and I'm done. After watching two of our other friends go at it, Queen gets up from her position on the couch and proclaims that she's going to bed, and who's coming with her? In my golden haze, I feel myself crawl on hands and knees through our kitchen and into their bedroom. Next thing I know, I'm being introduced to the concept of straight up lesbian sex. No man involved. I'm being stroked and rubbed, and I was practially purring in her hands. Before I knew what I was doing, I was reciprocating with fervor. I was, in Queen's words, a natural. I petted and stroked all the right places, and making her come as I did. It was wonderful. As I drifted off to sleep that night held in my best girl-friend's arms, my last thought was, "I wonder if I could do that sober..."

Of course, now I know that I can.

Welcome

Welcome to Three Of A Kind, a weblog documenting the sexual evolution of me, Krysta.


Why's it called Three of A Kind? Mostly because there are three of us in my household; me, Queen, and King. The three of us have been friends since high school, and have grown together as people through marriages, break ups, suicide attempts, and general strife.


I'll do my best to make this blog interesting, and it should be, considering how my brain works.