I might officially be a kinky slut.
I mean that in the most positive way, of course. But I think there comes a point when you sort of reflect on all the sex stuff you’re into and then decide if you’re vanilla or chocolate-raspberry-swirl-with-crazy-ass-toppings. And that point came today about 0.03 seconds after I got a facial.
We’re not talking the spa kind, people. (Unless you go to a really weird spa. In which case, more power to you, but I feel like it’s my duty to point out that you could get paid for having someone come on your face instead of paying for it. But anyway.) The first thing that popped into my head wasn’t, “Ew,” or, “Not my face!” or, “I’m going to kill him!”; it was, “Mmmmm.”
I’m not saying that makes me a sick sexual deviant or anything, but I’m saying with confidence that I am the only girl I know in my age bracket who finds that sexy. I’d say that alone pretty much kicks me out of the vanilla category, although I’m not sure yet what flavor I am. (Taste me and tell me. Oooh, look, more sluttishness!) Seriously, though, I had a straight-up request for more sex on the blog, and I aim to please. So that was my dirty little sex thing of the day. Prrrrrrr.
In other news, if you’re sick of filthy mindless rambling, give me something to talk about.