Archived Posts from 'General' Category

Ask Ruby

That’s right, ask me anything. I specialize in sex advice, but I’m willing to indulge your curiosity as well. So don’t be shy, ask away!

You can send your questions to askrubynow[at]yahoo[dot]com, or you can use the contact page if you prefer a more private exchange. While I can’t guarantee that I will respond to all questions, I will do my best to respond to everyone personally when the questions are genuine. The most interesting, thought-provoking, and just plain fun questions will appear on the site.

Filed under: General | April 3rd, 2007 Comments (0)

A Fond Farewell

I regret to inform you, dear readers, that I will not be able to continue blogging here any longer. My employment circumstances are about to change, suddenly and drastically, and I cannot afford the risk of sex blogging anymore.

You  may be surprised to learn that I do most of my blogging (and reading and commenting) at my workplace. That should tell you something about my job - I don’t have nearly enough work to do and nobody really gives a shit. That used to bother me but I learned to exploit the circumstances to my advantage. It was fun while it lasted.

But now things are shifting dramatically and while much is uncertain right now, I think that things are going to improve in my workplace and I welcome the change.

There is no room for blogging in my home life, particularly sex blogging. I’m much busier at home than I am at work, ironically, and I’m not willing to take time away from my family so I can pursue my online interests. It would be a sad twist of fate indeed if my sex blog were to detract from my sex life. We certainly can’t have THAT!

Frankly, I’m not all that disappointed. I love to write and to share my thoughts and to participate in thought-provoking discussions. But I never was very good at popularity contests and the blogging world is just too damn clique-ish and competitive for my nature. Not to mention the fact that reading and commenting on other blogs, while fun and fascinating to be sure, is incredibly time-consuming. Time is a very precious and scarce resource in my life and I really don’t mind shifting my priorities. I look forward to pursuing other interests and creative outlets.

I’d like to extend a heartfelt thanks to all my regular lurkers (I know you’re out there, whoever you are!) and especially to the other bloggers who commented on my posts and made me feel welcome in the blogosphere. I hope to continue reading your blogs when I can, so I may still show up in your comment threads from time to time. There is truly a lot of talent in the world of sex blogging and it has been an honor to participate in this genre with all of you.

Happy orgasms for all!

Love,

Ruby

Filed under: General | July 24th, 2007 Comments (8)

Birthday Sex!

How could I forget? My birthday wasn’t all about strippers and sex shops, it also involved some great sex! Unfortunately, we didn’t find the toy I was looking for at the sex shop, so no new toy reviews to share with you. And while being groped by a naked dancer really didn’t make me horny, either, I was still plenty eager to get home and get naked with my virile husband.

And get naked we did! I won’t give you a play by play because our sex life really isn’t very theatrical, it’s just good old-fashioned raw and dirty fucking and I loved every second of it. I wasn’t sure how well my pussy would perform because we had some impromptu and vigorous sex the night before, despite Steel’s initial insistence that we should abstain so I’d be up for a serious pussy workout on my birthday. But then he offered to just lick my pussy because that really isn’t very demanding on my tender cunt. I couldn’t really argue with that, but I knew right then that I was going to get fully and properly fucked unless Steel was prepared to put on the brakes. Once I start cumming there’s no way I can turn down his cock. And once I start cumming he can’t resist my pussy, so that was that. We’re really not very good at delayed gratification!

Fortunately my pussy was eager for more on the big night and I’m pretty sure I broke another orgasm record. Today I am so tender that I had to wear a skirt to work because I just can’t have any fabric rubbing on my swollen labia. I’m sure that tonight we’ll have to settle for some quiet movie-watching while my yoni recovers, but she’ll back in top form in no time, don’t worry;)

Filed under: General | July 18th, 2007 Comments (0)

Birthday Report

My very first strip club experience provided more food for thought than it did titillation, which is quite alright with me. It was a Tuesday night so there were hardly any patrons in attendance. The hostess seated us at a booth and we ordered bottled water (they don’t serve alcohol) and settled in to watch the girl on stage, who was wearing only a G-string and standard-issue stripper shoes. We barely had a chance to get cozy when the dancer suddenly shouted, “Hey you!”

I looked up to see that she was pointing at me and signaling for me to come up to the stage. Always the good sport, I rose to meet her. I was wearing a skimpy little sundress and she reached into it and fondled my breasts. She looked up to check my reaction and felt sufficiently emboldened to reach around and slide her hands up my thigh and grab my ass. She playfully lifted my dress and displayed my panties to everyone in the club. Then the dancer tried to chat me up, promising that she was going to be giving me attention All. Night. Long.

Throughout all of this I simply grinned and giggled nervously. She finally let me return to my seat and Steel congratulated me. I wished I had had some cash to give to her, but my little sundress had no pockets and besides, it was my birthday so Steel was carrying all the dough. I figured I’d make it up to her whenever she came around again, but I never got the chance. After her dance was over she latched onto a tall gentleman who accompanied her upstairs to the Safari Room.

I wish I could say that her little touchy-feely flirtation had aroused me, but it didn’t. I like the idea of being bisexual because it seems like it could be fun, but the reality of it is that I’ve never hungered for pussy, whereas I definitely get powerful cock cravings. I’d still like to think that the right woman in the right context could push my buttons, but this particular situation was definitely not the most conducive to my tastes.

For one thing, there were only about 5 other people in the club that night, all men. I was the only woman besides the waitress and the dancers. Overall the whole place had a sad, desperate vibe to it. I told Steel that I thought it might have been more fun if we were there on a busy night, and then I would have felt less conspicuous. I really prefer to be an anonymous observer in strange new settings but that was undermined as soon as that dancer picked me out of the crowd 2 minutes after I walked in the door. That shoved me way outside my comfort zone of “silent observer” into that scary realm of the spotlight.

I’m not at all the sort of person who thrives on being the center of attention, and when I’m thrust into that position without warning it makes me a little uncomfortable. I shared my thoughts with Steel, and we ended up having an interesting conversation about how some women solicit the male gaze while others shun it. I examined my own behavior and realized that while I enjoy wearing sexy and flattering clothing, I don’t do it because I seek male attention. I do it because I like feeling sexy, and because I know it turns on my husband and I very much enjoy titillating and teasing him. I also want him to see that other men find me attractive and sexy. I want him to see men checking me out because I want him to feel proud to be with me.

To illustrate my point, we also visited the sex toy shop earlier in the evening. There were some male customers inside, one male employee and one female employee. The only person I made eye contact with while we were in there was the female employee. I smiled at her a couple of times and she responded warmly. I avoided eye contact with all of the men. Later, during our discussion of the male gaze Steel was surprised when I told him that I hadn’t noticed anyone checking me out in the store. In order to find out if someone is watching you, you have to watch them; whereas I ignored them completely.

Eye contact is how you initiate a flirtatious exchange, and I don’t care to flirt with men that I don’t intend to seduce. Of course just because a woman makes eye contact with a man doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to flirt with him or seduce him. But when you’re the only female customer in a sex toy shop then men tend to make assumptions about your character.

The funny thing is, at the time I wasn’t at all consciously avoiding eye contact with anyone. But upon reflection I realized that that has always been my shield against unwanted attention. It is a learned, defensive behavior that I have been practicing habitually for so long that I wasn’t even aware of it.

I’m going to be examining this tendency of mine a little more. I need a little time to process my thoughts on it, which I’m sure will lead to more stimulating conversations with Steel and I love that:) I’ll be sure to share my conclusions with you when I figure it all out.

Filed under: General | July 18th, 2007 Comments (2)

Happy Birthday to Me:)

Yep, I’m 34 years old today. Unlike a surprising number of my peers, I’m not at all concerned about aging. I think that may well be because I lived hard and fast in my 20’s so I don’t have to wonder about what sort of adventures I could have had. I did have them and it was fabulous!

Having young children makes adventure-seeking a bit more complicated and certainly less frequent, but it can be done. As of yesterday Steel and I will be kid-free throughout the remainder of the summer, excepting weekends. My son will be with his grandparents during the week, so we will be taking full advantage of all opportunities to pursue our more hedonistic urges. And I suppose we’ll tackle some home improvement projects, too, albeit in the last week of summer vacation after we’ve exhausted all the more appealing options;)

Tonight Steel will take me out to our favorite Greek restaurant for a tasty dinner. Then we’ll walk to our favorite vegetarian restaurant for a healthy and delicious smoothy. Afterward he’s promised to take me to a strip club! It will be my first time!

There probably aren’t a lot of wives who hope their husband will take them to a strip club on their birthday, but that’s how it goes when you’re married to a sassy sex blogger, eh?

I’m trying to keep my expectations fairly low. I don’t expect it to be a particularly mind-blowing experience, but simply a new experience that I can cross off my checklist of Things To Do Before I Die, Just Because. At the very least I’m hoping that one or both of us will be titillated to the point of urgency and then we can race back to the house and fuck like mad.

I’ll let you know how it goes;)

Filed under: General | July 17th, 2007 Comments (7)

Three years

I have a history of being a bit of a commitment-phobe. When Steel and I hit the 2-year mark last summer that was a record for me; I’d never been in a relationship that long before. My tendency had always been to walk away as soon as it stopped being fun. I have very little tolerance for bullshit, headgames or stagnation. My standards are astronomically high and my fuse is shorter than a cock on ice. I’m feisty, demanding, and stubborn. I may be a harsh mistress but I hold myself to the same standards.

Steel impressed me from our first contact and hasn’t stopped dazzling me since, and that’s not easy to do. He hasn’t just spoiled me rotten, he’s completely ruined me. He’s attentive, affectionate, considerate and generous. No one has ever managed to captivate my heart and mind like he has and I consider myself to be very blessed.

Which isn’t to say that it’s all been a bed of roses. I lost my best friend because she was jealous of my husband. I continue to endure the scorn of his ex-wife and the resentment of his children.* He bears the tumultuous whims of my moods and the violent, defiant outbursts of my impulsive and precocious son. We’ve weathered 3 emotionally charged outbreaks of head lice (ugh) and survived several stressful DIY home improvement projects. He puts up with my family’s quirks and I tolerate his inability to put the toilet seat down. We are mere human animals, fumbling through the game of life.

I haven’t always been sure I made the right choice when I married him, if only because I often feel like I’m not cut out for this stepmom gig. I thought being a single mom was tough, but it’s a cakewalk compared to stepparenting. I can’t even stand to watch movies like “Yours, Mine and Ours” because they’re so far removed from reality. I mean, have you ever noticed that on TV and in movies when two people with kids get married their ex-spouses are always conveniently dead?

Through it all, marriage has been a major catalyst for my personal growth, second only to motherhood. It has forced me to face some of my personal demons and take responsibility for my character flaws. I used to be skeptical of marriage. I was never one of those girls who fantasized about my wedding day. I didn’t want a house with a 2-car garage and a picket fence. I wanted to live a carefree exotic life and I dared my suitors to try to keep up with me. I was a remorseless heart-breaker and a reckless bohemian.

Now I like to remind myself of that old cliche, “Life is what you make of it.” This applies to marriage as much as anything. Just because society has a rigid definition of marital bliss doesn’t mean that we have to adhere to it. I’ve never worn a diamond ring and never will. Steel and I had a tiny wedding ceremony with just 2 friends as witnesses. We honeymooned in Colorado, camping in tents and having alpine adventures. I didn’t change my last name and he didn’t give up blowjobs. The sex just keeps getting better all the time. I recently sent him a list of new tricks for us to add to our sexual repetoire. I look forward to growing old with him. He still makes me swoon. Especially when he sings this song:

Last summer our family went to Kansas to celebrate Steel’s parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. I have wonderful in-laws, and it was truly inspiring to witness the culmination of their life together. During the toast my father-in-law advised the other couples that the secret to a long and happy marriage was to remember to appreciate each other, and suggested that the best way to express your appreciation was to say, often and sincerely, “Thank you, dear, for putting up with me.”

Tomorrow Steel and I will celebrate three years as a married couple. Some people claim that we’ve reached our quota of marital bliss and we should expect to put our best years behind us. But statistics don’t worry me at all. We determine our own future by being grateful for every moment we have together. A little appreciation goes a long way, and we are rich in gratitude.

Thank you, dear, for putting up with me. I love you infinitely.

*For the record, I was never the “other woman.” They had been separated for several months before we met.

Filed under: Sugasm, General | July 6th, 2007 Comments (16)

Thoughts on Boobs

Boobs never fail to garner attention. It’s generally assumed that bigger is better, although there are plenty of men who aren’t shy about their appreciation of itty bitty titties. I wouldn’t call mine itty bitty exactly, but I am an A cup. And even if I could get a free boob job from the best surgeon in Hollywood, I’d pass.

And so I was thinking about what boobs are good for, which would basically be nursing babies and seducing men. You don’t need big boobs to nurse a baby, and while I would certainly argue that small-breasted women are quite capable of putting other assets to use in the art of seduction, big-breasted women don’t even have to try. Men are utterly defenseless when confronted with a bold display of cleavage and heaving bosoms.

In which case I think big boobs are kind of like high heels and make-up. I only wear heels and makeup when I want to dress to kill. I don’t dress like that every day because it’s just not practical. I walk to work every day so I need to wear decent walking shoes. And I just don’t have time to fuss with makeup in the morning. But I like the fact that when I’m getting ready for a night out with my dashing husband, I can wear the sexy and I love it!

So wouldn’t it be cool if we could change our boobs like we change our shoes? Like if we could inflate or deflate them at will: Pump them up for a date, deflate for a morning run. Now that I could sign up for. Most of my activities are better suited to small, lightweight boobs. I’d really only opt for the big pillowy variety one or two nights a week when I’m going out, and maybe to add some variety into our sex life. But until big boobs are removeable or deflateable, I’ll definitely stick with my little ones.

Filed under: Body Image, General | June 3rd, 2007 Comments (5)

Dating and blogging: a delicate mix

Rebecca Traister recently wrote an article in Nerve about how blogging ruined her dating life. The premise of her essay is that people are revealing too much of themselves in their websites and then sharing them too soon, and as a result the thrill of discovering the mysteries of a new beau has been undermined by information overload.

I sympathize with Traister’s point and think it’s a valid one. I agree that your initial contact with a potential suitor is enhanced by an element of mystery. It’s hard to make small talk on a first date if you’ve already read their unabridged autobiography on livejournal.

Traister’s point is ultimately that if you’re going to bare your soul online, you should at the very least wait until the fifth date or so to share your URL with your new love interest. Wise words, indeed. Looking back on the time period during which my dating life overlapped with blogging, I think I practiced this policy with sufficient reserve. My first blog was a photoblog, so there was no TMI factor. It was more like a gallery of my artwork, and if I liked someone well enough I would eventually share it with them.

There was one incident in which I met a fellow through an online personals ad. We met and he was very kind and sweet but he just wasn’t my type. We maintained friendly contact for a while but I never encouraged any further developments in our interaction, and I never told him about my photoblog. Imagine my surprise when he sent me an email saying, “Hey, I found your photoblog and you are SO TALENTED!!!!” He apparently had been researching some obscure subject matter which overlapped with one of my photos, and Google brought him to my site. Never underestimate the power of Google!  I wouldn’t have cared so much except his timing was terrible. I had been planning to post a photo that very day of a sexy yet tasteful nude self-portrait and now I had serious misgivings. I envisioned this guy returning to my site to see my glorious naked ass and getting all excited, maybe even hoping that I deliberately posted that photo to tempt and entice him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

That was a minor glitch in my blogging experience and it blew over without any messy drama. I never dated anyone else who also had their own blog so I’ve never encountered the situations which Rebecca describes. As a sex blogger, I now guard my anonymity carefully. Since I’m married, I don’t have to worry about prospective suitors and when to reveal my secret double life, but I can see how this would be a delicate matter for my single colleagues. I do, however, exercise caution when outing myself to anyone in my real world existence. In fact, I’ve come to see that this can be a rather complicated business, and so far I’m erring on the side of caution.

I’ve just recently created a MySpace profile for networking purposes (and I need more friends! hint hint;) and after just a little surfing on MySpace I have to question it’s utility for me. There are some really cool folks doing cool stuff who also happen to have a MySpace profile, but that is not the epicenter of their cybersocial life. The majority of MySpace users are simply not my target audience, and if I were dating, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be searching MySpace for a partner. But that’s the upshot to this phenomenon, too. Why waste your precious time scheduling a first date with someone if their MySpace profile has already revealed their passion for Celine Dion?

I know some people actually blog almost exclusively about their dating life, an endeavor which seems rife with hazards. Have you had any weird or interesting experiences while dating as a blogger? Have you ever dated anyone with a blog that compromised your relationship? Do tell!

Filed under: Media, General | May 22nd, 2007 Comments (0)

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