Not sure exactly what's happening. Can the removal of my hormonal means of contraception really have such a huge influence on things? It is rather scary, really, in any way imaginable. Gone is the prude-ish bitch who refused sex on a daily basis sometimes for week after week on end, and back is...

...well, let me tell you. When The Fiancé and I first met? Rabbits pale by comparison. We fucked whenever we saw each other, wherever we saw each other, and as many times as we could. The Fiancé crumbled my view of the world that men have any sort of physical limitations to their potency and stamina by once fucking me nine times in a rather short night, and then once six times in a single hour. Me? I more than willingly went along with it all. Could easily keep up with him, managed twice to wear him out to a point where not even he could move a muscle anymore. Decency? Privacy? Modesty? None. We were once observed for quite some time without noticing by an approaching hiker in Griffith Park while his dick was up to his balls down my throat, we were caught twice by his co-workers while fucking on the floor of his boss' print shop, and once by his unexpectedly returned-home uncle, where he was still renting a room at that time. We fucked on the oily carpet in his uncle's garage, and on a pile of printing paper on a tipsy desk in the shop. We fucked under the stars in Griffith Park and almost got caught by the park rangers. We fucked repeatedly in a car that was by all laws of physics and gravity too small to be fucked in. He gave me my first quadruple-orgasm, and I developed a technique to give him regular multiple orgasms as well. A guy with multiple orgasms!!! Heavens, we even beat each other up on occasion in a way that only barely evaded any sort of serious injuries, and those were usually the most intense... ahem...

...seesh... see the kind of language I am using??? I am blushíng just re-reading this!

But you see... this kind of language illustrates the impact of the following better. I went on the pill, ditched those nasty and inconvenient condoms for a more free and spontaneous love life (and added security!), and around the same time we moved in together and started Daily Routine(tm).

Or sex life became... well... rather average. And more average, and more average. I thought it was a combination of the sudden daily stress and our economical problems along with the hormonal changes from the pill. The Fiancé? One disgruntled little blue ball. I changed from the pill to another, more convenient, hormonal means of contraception. But it became worse, almost proportionally with the passed time. We went from nine times a day to 3 times a week, to 2 times a week, to once every two weeks. At the end I completely stopped thinking about sex, stopped fantasizing, stopped masturbating, stopped touching The Fiancé in any way, and when he tried to touch me I got pissy and bitchy and rejected him 98% of the time. At some point I even started to avoid hugs and kisses and holding hands, and everything involving physical closeness. Sex became the thing I had to do to keep The Fiancé happy, nothing more. Ya know. The literal log in the bedroom. Spread your legs and wait 'till it's over.

My vagina? A means of peeing and a source of regular blood, no more, no less than that.

It was horrible on all levels, as you can imagine. I thought it was the sudden stress of being the sole provider of our household, all the hours I had to pull at work, the depressing weather... you name it.

But then... then... hallelujah... I ran out of my hormonal contraception and had no prescription to get more. It was the holidays, peoples, most doctors were on vacation, and I didn't even want to bother calling mine, cause who wants sex anyway, right?

I should sue the pharma company that produces this shit. Holy condom, I have spent the last couple of weeks in a horny stupor, insatisfyable, masturbating multiple times a day, assaulting The Fiancé with sex, watching massive porn on the internet, and having nothing else in my head but images of erect penises and all the nasty things one can do with them. My dreams are full of sex, my head is full of sex, my free time is full of sex. Too tired after work? HELL NO. Too busy reading my book at night? HELL NO. Hello internet and all your bisexual personals sites and possibilities. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am back, and I am back with a vengeance. I am earning back my old title of "nympho", and I swear that this year will see my first three- and foursome, and aside from the serious hetero action that's already going on will also see some serious gay action on both parts! Can you believe I have been singing loudly (and horribly out of tune) for no other reason than that the radio was on on my home from work, with a huge happy smile on my face, and no worry clouding my uncharacteristically calm and clear mind? Can you believe I have been active, and not tired, and alert at all times, despite getting up early in the morning and pulling long hours at work? I am one happy little girl right now, with one happy little fiancé, and constantly throbbing and swollen and longing girl bits - as I SHOULD be. ;)

Just right for my birthday coming up tomorrow. :)

OH! And can you believe that we have forgotten to turn off the lights and roll down the blinds in our living room the other day, and ended up with the people living on the other side of the street lurking around their window with spyglasses, and two chairs pulled to the window like it's ultimate HD broadband movie time? *falls over laughing*