I sat Jay next to me in front of my laptop, “Wanna see what your naughty wife was up to last night?”

We had a party at home. Friends came to play music. Downstairs, instruments were plugged into amps, the guys started jamming. Upstairs in the kitchen, Sam helped me do dishes.

I played the video for Jay. Sam was doing dishes, I was behind the camera, undoing his jeans, pulling his hard-on out of his pants and putting it in my mouth. I handed the camera to Sam so I could concentrate on swallowing his cock. I watched him watch me push it back and forth into my throat.

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I was reading the Book of Wisdom out loud. When I got to Chapter 1 verse 4: “Because into a soul that plots evil wisdom enters not, nor dwells she in a body under debt of sin.”

“She?” Jay interrupted. I stopped reading. The patriarchs don’t refer to the feminine by accident. Is it just a politically correct translation?

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Friends often ask me what makes our relationship last. They know that Jay and I have been in love with each other for the past 13 years, that we have a strong bond as activity partners, business partners, parents and collaborative artists.

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I love my new home. We still have a pile of boxes unopened, but everything I need is out and getting some play. Life is good. A bit busy maybe, but really good. There’s a lot to do, you know. Making my home beautiful, spending time with the people I love. We’re eating well, living well, loving well.

When I crashed my blog in July I took a little break from the internet and have been spending a lot more time in real life. It was very frustrating to lose 6 years worth of diary entries. I moped around for a couple of days, but after that I just decided I would move on. I could spend my time trying to get my xml file to load on to a new blog platform or enjoy a beautiful sunny day happening outside my window. I chose the incredibly sensuous world of the beach.

Still in the back of my mind I itched to type up silly nothings. Jay and I have been taking naughty pictures here and there, getting excited about sexy projects. This new diary will be the portal for all that fun media mayhem Jay and I get all turned on about.

I still am attached to my diary entries from 2002 to 2008, some of the entries a very emotional record of my life. I wish I could compile excerpts from my past diary archives into a book. With dirty pictures, of course. Now if only I can find a publisher or printer (for self-publishing) that would print porn…

Py Kim Conant wrote a book called “Sex Secrets of an American Geisha,” a self-help book for ladies who want to atttract and keep a good man satisfied. Py Kim is not a geisha, though she has done her research and presents practical advice based on the geisha culture. She is funny and politically incorrect. The videos below show her silly sense of humor tackling the delicate subject of shaving. Watch and worship!

why men worship shaved vaginas

Posted Oct 07, 2007

Based on Py Kim’s book, “Sex Secrets of an American Geisha: How to Attract, Satisfy, and Keep Your Man,” she talks about why men should worship their women’s shaved vaginas and why women need to shave pubic hair.

Why men should shave pubic hair

Posted Oct 23, 2007

Funny comedy sex web TV talk show with hot sexy Korean woman Py Kim about why men should shave pubic hair

Jay shared an interesting story with me today. He had been corresponding with a married couple over the past month. Like us, they have offspring. Just recently they had their first threesome with a single guy. It went well, they all had a great time, until the woman ran away with the guy. Shortly thereafter, the guy dumped the woman and now she wants to return to her husband and kids. The husband is holding out a bit, hurt by her actions and sort of enjoying his newfound singlehood at the moment. No happy ending here. Just something to think about.

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Plums

Originally uploaded by maylingsu.

Our plum tree was so heavy with clusters of fruit weighing the branches down and hitting my head everytime I walked past it. Juicy delicious! Wee one learned to say, “Pit!” and take the plum pit out with tiny fingers smeared with dark red fruit ooze. There were so many plums we had to give bags of them away to neighbors and friends.

The CD album of the summer was Life Pursuit by Belle and Sebastian. Wee one loves music and demands “Po’ Boy, Po’ Boy,” more formally known as “White Collar Boy,” every waking hour.

The book of the summer was “Where The Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak. I read that book aloud with howls and grunts every night. A close second was “The Missing Piece” by Shel Silverstein, parts of which I sing with my own made-up melody. It gave me a lump in my throat the first time I read it through and Wee One picked up on it and wept. I am amazed at our psychic connection. The few times I’ve left the house alone, Jay told me that from sound slumber, Wee One wakes running toward the front door crying, “Mama!”

I got a new old book today titled “Story of the Eye” by Georges Bataille. (Thanks, Pris!!! ) I’m loving it! Chapter Twelve dealt with the similar confessional fantasy I had written about (it’s a classic!), only this 1928 pornographic prose is so much nastier and radically more irreverent than I allow myself to be.

We’re getting the last of the hot sunny days here in the SF Bay Area. We need to figure out where we’re going and what we’re doing soon. I posted photos I took around our home, a coin tossed toward the stars with a wish for the future.

I hurt my left pinky finger. I don’t know if I fractured it or sprained it, and I’m not interested in getting an X-ray just to find out. Either way, all I need is a splint so Jay got me one at Walgreens and I’m all set.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t break it. I know because my right pinky finger is broken. I hurt my right pinky finger when I was three. This kid threw a rock at me and it broke my finger. I never told anyone, so I never got any medical attention for it. It’s healed, but I’ve lost the ability to curl it. To make a fist, I use my ring finger to hold it in place.

Not so with the recently injured left pinky finger. I still can’t curl it all the way into a fist, but I can curl it some so I’m happy I still have control over it.

Having a splint made typing on a keyboard frustrating for me, so this past week I read The Art of the Start by Guy Kawasaki. I spent a lot of time writing in my notebook. Yes, I still use the archaic pen and paper once in a great while. I’m right-handed so it was the perfect activity while resting my left pinky. The book renewed my enthusiasm for our other business, the boring one that doesn’t involve porn but pays all our bills, so I’ve been focused on it.

I’ve taken the splint off. It was starting to bug me and get in my way. The swelling has gone down and the bruise is still dark but it doesn’t hurt so I think it’s gotten a lot better.