It's almost humorous to me, looking back on past websites and words that have flowed (sometimes violently and sometimes smoothly) from my mind and into physical form, how sexually free I used to be.

I almost don't recognize myself in those words, like this one from nearly a year ago...

"I knew as soon as he kissed me that it was a kiss with intent. Kisses of affection, kisses that bind us together in domestic life and partnership, have been the most common lately. This sort of kiss, filled with abandon and promise, was more than that.

It's no secret that I haven't been "doing the deed," as it were, quite as often as I'd like. I have a rather epic sex drive that is impossible to match or exceed for most people but, during our good periods, Bear has (literally) risen to the challenge.

Needless to say, I was a little hesitant to give in to his unspoken promises. To put it bluntly, the only thing worse than not fucking is starting to fuck and being put off. I'm simply not the type of girl who enjoys that.

But the hair pulling and choking that followed the kiss, well, I'm the just the type of girl who enjoys that sort of thing. And multiple orgasms... let's just say that they're high on my list of "to do's."

It's nice to be reminded that we're not roommates, and I've forgotten just how much I need a strong man in the bedroom. It was a wonderful weekend."

I mean, that was only a year ago. Things have changed SO much in that regard in only a year, with minimal health advances. I'm a little bummed, so to speak, but looking through past entries has also reminded me that when the weather starts to get warm I seem to go through a bit of melancholy until I move forward to embrace the season.

Eh.