and on the 18th day she rested...

I have bartered with myself for three day weekends, and have graciously (after much huffing and brow furrowing) consented to do so. The waxing and waning of my particular appetite has provided SO MUCH fascination for me the past couple of days. Over the weekend, it has been waning, and I'm pretty sure it's due to the fact that I'm no longer ovulating. Perhaps my clandestine writings will prove my gossamer hypothesis? Let's plow forward and find out, shall we?

When I'm in my peak weeks of the month (the two weeks after my period has ended) I literally could be bent over every thirty seconds or so and still not be satiated. I crave the nastiest, ball-slappingest fuckings imaginable and go off in a seedy dreamland while doing dishes, laundry, working, facebooking, cleaning, cooking, talking to coworkers, talking to my husband, running over to my husband, climbing on top of my husband...

Then after the lecherous, lewd, licentious, and lustful activity, I calm down a bit and take a brief sabbatical into the pensive. Sadly, this is usually the time that my breasts hormonally swell to the size of canteloupes and cause my husband to go into a state of kink. I of course am spurred on by his attention, but my third gear is slower on the uptake. I usually require five minutes instead of two.

I am considering delving into deep research mode during my period of respite, my calm foray into all things slow and cerebral. Thinking: should I check out the Kinsey reports from the library? The works of Masters and Johnson? Dr. Ruth? Betty Dobson? What are the scientific specifics to the physiology and mental state of the ovulating woman? Looking at some of my journal entries from full swing egg shaking/moving, some were so randy I blushed too hard to post them here. My brain/body was in total fuck and be fucked mode almost constantly. A vague example: "I dream of crawling on her, using her as a fleshy slip and slide..." This is hot hot stuff, and was written right before I literally jumped my husband telling him I, "Have a tight hole that needs filled." Zoweee.

I'll scare the folks at the library, Henry Miller one day, Kinsey the next...what experiments will they think I'm performing? A mad scientist who specializes in all things sex? Who cares! I'll raise eyebrows and raise my skirt, ladee ladee lah...