Low T Is Not For Me

For years and years, we as a society have been inundated with info and commercials on erectile dysfunction. We know it's common, it's likely to happen to men of a certain age, or with certain health issues, it's natural, and there are a million pills, shots, and creams to help those gentlemen rise to the occasion.

What do we know about female "erectile" dysfunction? Not much. It's kind of implied that it's natural for a woman to NOT be into sex. And if a woman who normally enjoys intercourse stops enjoying it, and is no longer interested in sex, the first assumption isn't that there is a physical, health related issue. Oh, no. Most of us, doctors included, ask about what's on our minds. What's going on with our relationship? Where is the stress coming from?

We as a society imply that it's no big deal and natural for a woman to have sexual dysfunction, and we offer no solutions outside of rest, relaxation, vibrators, and letting nature take it's course.

I'm hear to tell you, that's bullshit. Clinical ED and sexual dysfunction does happen to women. It's more than a mental problem. And it is a big deal.   

I've had low T for over a year now, and I didn't know it. That's right, I've had low testosterone, which in a woman can be no testosterone, and I had no idea how much such a thing could affect a woman. Could affect me.

In a little over two months I'll be 35. By far this is not old, but I am discovering that this is not a young age either. One could argue that our thirties really are the beginning of being middle aged. I'm discovering my thirties is a period of declining from my once jubilant youth. I no longer "bounce back" from simple injuries, and there are serious consequences to things like pulling an all-nighter or drinking things once drunk in my twenties.

I may not wake up with my back thrown out, which I hear can happen for no reason in your forties, but I did throw out my coccyx playing soccer with my son. My coccyx. I broke it as a child, and apparently that means one simple misstep in my thirties can throw me into a world of hurt.

With these realizations of the aging process upon me I was still surprised when I began having sexual dysfunctions. Over a year ago I started having difficulty orgasming. I could still become aroused, but the build up would fizzle and it would take genuine ingenuity and effort to get me to a happy land I once so easily trekked to on a daily basis.

I mentioned this new coital challenge to my gynecologist. She at first looked at me with the confused chagrin of someone about to impart a fact of life they believed to be well known. A knowledge so common, my gyno was obviously taken aback that she must be the one to inform me. Using small, kind words, she explained that this can be a normal stage of aging, and is a common predicament for many woman of all ages.

Okay, I knew that. I haven't been living under a rock.

But...quite honestly I never thought it would happen to me. I've had health issues in the past that sucked, but were easy to wrap my head around. I was born with only one and a half kidneys and only one functions to its full potential. It caused me all kind of grief. I've had Chronic EBV poking me at inopportune moments since I was thirty. I didn't see that issue coming, but for some reason as devastated by it as I was, I wasn't in complete disbelief that it was happening to me.

When a strange, creeping depression started blanketing me, I never thought it was related to my libido issues. I've had clinical depression before and it never effected my sexual functions. Not to mention, while feeling bummed out all the time, it wasn't the depression I had before, so in my mind it wasn't depression.

There are many things in my life I've taken for granted, my personality and self absurdness amongst them. At the top of the list is my high libido, and easy to operate vagina. I always naively assumed these things that made me me, these inherent pieces of my personality, would never go away.

When insecurity and low self esteem ate at me in a way I've never experienced before, I thought it was because of the stress and blues that kept taking hold of me.

In a way it was.

For many of us 2016 was rough year for varying reasons. In Chinese Astrology it was said to be the year of the fire monkey. I can believe it, if only because this year felt like we were all being pelted by poo thrown by an obnoxious, trouble causing monkey.

I'll spare you the list of hits my family and I took, but needless to say when I stopped being able to be aroused or orgasm at all I, when it was a struggle to feel anything other than mediocre, and was fighting depression daily, I told myself it was stress. We had a lot going on.

I knew something was wrong, but I refused to admit it out loud. Not even to my husband. As my sexual dysfunction grew, I pushed him away a little at a time. We've always had an intimacy and comradery that was very fun loving, close, and ...sexual.

He wanted sex from his wife who normally loves sex, but my body wasn't having the normal feel good tingles his touch usually invites...and that made me feel inadequate. We had dry spells in the past, but they were always short lived and we quickly got back to being the couple who despite everything, would sneak off for naughty romps.

All of a sudden, I wasn't that person any more and every time he touched me I began being gripped by anxiety because I couldn't get aroused, I definitely couldn't orgasm, and because of that, sex, even with artificial lubricant was starting to hurt.

For the first time ever I was trying to fake it, and I wasn't good at it. I felt awful, he felt that something was wrong, and neither of us were talking about it. 

The characters in my head, who inspire me to write fell silent. Books that used to turn me on, and also inspire me only highlighted how dead to sexual desire I had become, so I stopped reading or writing anything with erotic leanings. I began associating anything sexual with anxiety and self doubt. I felt nothing below the waist.

My complete withdraw was causing insecurities in husband and our relationship. I could see this but I was powerless as to how to fix it.

When I finally told him what was going on he was so relieved and had so much compassion for the pain I was going through. He'd actually feared I was having an affair. He thought I didn't love him anymore.

It was crushing to realize how deeply I hurt him by not telling him what was going on sooner, but every time I tried the words stuck in my throat and I'm not sure why. I've always told him everything, but this felt like shards of glass tearing at my skin everything time I even thought about it. And while it was a relief to tell him, it was only a band-aid. A huge part of our relationship was still missing. There was still the weight of my sexual dysfunction hanging over our heads.

A few weeks ago I had a visit with my gynecologist and wild-eyed with desperation I told her what was going on. How it was effecting my relationship, and yes, it may be normal, but it's not normal for me.

She told me as we age our bodies start processing everyday stress differently. I had a moment of terror in which I believed she was going to give me the same song and dance as before, but then she continued with saying that she was sending me in for bloodwork to check my testosterone levels.

Testosterone levels?

Yes, it turns out even the ladies need testosterone. And yes my levels were low. My gyno--who I've always loved, but now may make a shrine to--prescribed me a testosterone cream. It is a fraction of what men with low T use, but I was still nervous to apply.

I'm not big on Rx use. Even more so I had silly visions of back hair and penis growth like I was about to rub on illegal steroids or something.

The cream is only applied three days a week, but that first week I had stirrings of the female happy land variety. And outside of that, the missing pieces of my personality were waking up, and the strange depression that didn't feel like any depression I had experienced before lifted.

It wasn't until then that I realized my sexual function wasn't the only thing hit by my lack of testosterone. All these other things that had torn at me and weighed my down over the year may have been the cause of my low T, but also exacerbated by my low T.

Some women may naturally have a lower testosterone level, but after getting mine back up I'm thinking low T is not for me.

As for my sexual functioning...it's a work in progress, but everyday is a little sunnier.

My first week of testosterone cream application, I was honored to be able to beta read Tracy St. John's new book, Clan and Command--coming out Dec 16th! Besides being an amazingly captivating story that furthers the Basma/Kalquor conflict, the book is hot as fuck. And TMI, but when I got wet panties while reading, I shed some happy tears. Okay, I balled like a baby. It was the first time in a long time and offered me a new hope.

I will never watch the episode from Sex and the City where Samantha can't orgasm the same way again.  

Anxiety when it comes to sex is still present. My first orgasm with my husband was a nerve wracked affair which I had trouble shutting down my brain. But, it's getting better everyday. Just last night I had the kind of orgasms I feared I would never experience again.

There are so many times in our lives when we know in our hearts there is something's not right with our bodies, or our health, and we don't speak up. Sometimes we fear the answer, and sometimes we just don't want to face what's going on.

Don't get swept under by the mental and emotional tug of war. No matter what it is, say something to your doctor. And say something to your significant other. Speak up. And if you're not heard the first time, say it louder.

Please don't disregard female sexual dysfunction as a mental hangup. Female sexual dysfunction and ED is natural, it can happen at any age, but there are many health problems it can stem from. And most all of them need more tending to than rest, relaxation, and a vibrator.   

Things I knew but didn’t KNOW, know about living in an area hit by a hurricane…

I reside in Coastal Georgia and most of you probably know we, along with Coastal SC and the east coast of FL got our collective asses kicked by Matthew.

Chances are you've read or heard first hand stories of what it’s like to live in an area hit by a hurricane. I know I have. The reality is cool, terrifying, heartbreaking, expensive, tedious, plain old crazy, and at times wonderful in a twisted way. 

Coastal Georgia has a long history of being missed by hurricanes. They almost always skip us and hit the Carolinas. My husband and I have lived on the coast of Georgia for over thirteen years and we’ve been smacked by many a tropical storm and tropical depression, but never, EVER have we been concerned about actually being hit by a hurricane. Most of us here have become somewhat blase about hurricane threats, doing token stock ups on water and liquor in case the power goes out, but not expecting it to be out for long. 

Tropical Storm Hermine took out our power for thirty hours in September, and that was the longest we've been without in years.

It seemed like our county commissioner was mentally in the same place as us. It was at the eleventh hour he issued a mandatory evacuation. And thank God he did.

Almost every single business in Savannah was set to stay open through Matthew, even though a suggested evacuation had been issued. The islands had been evacuated only because their Mayor demanded it. Although our city officials were urging us to leave, no one was willing to lose money if it wasn’t going to be a big enough storm to warrant a mandatory evacuation. 

Some of us knew a mandatory evacuation was imminent. Every single gas station ran out of gas. Every single grocery store ran out of bottled water and bread. 

People loaded up their kids and dogs, and the lucky got hotel rooms in the nearby area. By the time we evacuated all of the west coast of Florida had been evacuated, and a good chunk of South Carolina’s coast. Getting a hotel room in the tri-state area became near impossible for some.

We were lucky. I have brothers three and four hours away we went and stayed with, because they are awesome. Our biggest inconvenience was three days of being regulated to bathroom sex because my brother's guest bedroom doesn't have a door. (yes, we are THOSE house guests-we're sorry, not sorry)

When we all did evacuate it was end of days, zombie apocalypse type shit. I’m not going to lie, my husband and I had a total bucket list moment driving out of town down the east bound lanes in a sea of panicked citizens. People waved “Drive Safe & God Bless” banners from over passes. Others stood on bridges videotaping the mass exodus. 

Our normal four-and-a-half-hour trip turned into eight-and-a-half-hours. All day Friday we watched the newsfeeds for the status update from friends and neighbors who stayed behind, reading in awe or horror the stories that were beginning to stream in as the rains and winds grew.

We watched the weather channel and radar religiously. Saturday we were relieved or devastated when we found out who made it through unscathed and who didn’t.

It had rained 15-17 inches before the hurricane reached zenith. The storm peaked during high tide.

As hurricanes go, ours wasn't too bad. Matthew was a category 2 when it hit us, with 80 miles an hour winds. Friends of ours said it sounded like a constant freight train or never ending thunder, and their houses shook all night long.

Many areas were flooded. With the ground softened up the beautiful oak and pine trees our city is known for started falling like dominoes in the hurricane force winds. They took out power lines and people’s homes. They blocked roads. They killed two men, one whom was an army ranger. He had sent his wife and two small children out of town, but stayed for fear of looters breaking in...

You hear the stories of people losing their homes to natural disasters, but there is nothing like driving around your city with all the stop lights out, and piles and piles of fallen trees and tree limbs lining the sides of the roads. Blue tarps cover many roofs. Some still have trees through their living rooms, bed rooms, kitchens. Roads are blocked by giant trees. Huge piles of carpet and padding outside someone’s home lets you know they were flooded.

Shingles are spread like confetti in some places and you look around to see who has a spotty roof. A meat market lost its entire roof. Where it ended up, I do not know. 

We have friends who have lost their homes, and know countless others who are waiting for insurance companies to tell them if they can fix the damage or if their home is demolished.

At night there was complete darkness, save for the faint candle light glowing in people’s windows. For the first time since living in the city, we could see the stars clearly from our front porch and it was as lovely as it was bizarre.

Power companies tried to get grocery stores power going first. There's about ten grocery stores and food markets in a three mile radius from my house, and three times as many restaurants. While down town was spared significant power loss, since they have underground lines, the rest of the city was SOL. All save for one grocery store near me, all lost their produce. Meat, eggs, and dairy, frozen foods. Gone.

Multiply that with how many restaurants and grocery stores are along the entire east coast from Melbourne Florida, to Hilton Head South Carolina and you get some idea about how much and how long it's going to take to restock all these businesses.

 

The Georgia and Alabama Power Company guys are rock stars around here. You never get more excited and hopeful than when you see one of their big white trucks driving down your street. We'd throw parades for those guys if we could. We love them for their tireless efforts to restore power to our communities. We love them hard.

It's been nearly a week since the storm and the handful of restaurants that are open and operating are packed to the gills with people. Most of grocery stores' meat, dairy, and produce shelves are still empty. Tuesday, finding bread was a huge score. Finding batteries was almost just as good. We’ve been home for days and I still have yet to see more than one gas station that has gas. 

Most of the workers at these places had homes without power, but have been working since as early as Sunday. Unless they’re lucky enough to have a gas water heater they’d been taking cold showers. Possibly eating only what can be eaten cold or grilled. 

The islands didn't have water or working sewage in some areas. 

I had to fight hugging the checkout lady the first day I ventured out to see if any stores were open. I knew she’d likely been hauling debris out of her yard. Possibly her neighbor’s yards too, same as me. I knew she was without power same as me. But because she came into work the register I could buy one of the last loaves of bread off the shelf and D batteries for our lantern.

I’ve always been one of those people who practices gratitude. I’m grateful as fuck for the little things on an average day. On a day where my son is helping me clear out our yard and neighbor's yards, not because I asked him but because he wants to? On a day we’re watching a giant crane remove an oak tree from one of our neighbor's home? On a day our community is coming together to assist each other, and is just in good spirits because we’re all okay? On a day I scored D batteries and one of the last loaves of bread?

I was a mess of thankfulness. I still am.

Our city is going to be up and running in no time. It nearly is. Outside of the piles of fallen trees, blue tarps on roofs and such, everything is starting to look normal. The streets have been cleared of down trees, their sawed up remains piled along side the road the only reminder you couldn't traverse that street the day before. It's taken nearly a week, but our traffic lights are working. Almost every area in the low country has power again. It may take a minute for the grocery stores and restaurants to restock their supplies, but we're getting there. 

We’re all super resilient, and so lucky to be living in a first world country. It’s cliché to say, but it could have been worse. Florida took a devastating hit, but Haiti has been leveled. They were hit with a category 4 storm, leaving over a thousand killed, and who knows how many injured. It's estimated over 350,000 Haitians are in need of disaster relief assistance.

Here in Georgia, we’re going to have a few weeks that aren’t as cushy as we’re used to. It only took five days before our block had power, and more areas are getting fixed up by the hour. Those without water or sewage will have it again by the end of next week at the latest. 

My heart goes out to those who have lost their homes and have to live somewhere else while reconstruction is happening.

It’s a massively sucky situation, but I have yet to encounter one person in this entire city who isn’t in decent spirits and thankful that their family is safe, and it wasn’t worse. I'm sure they're out there. They're keeping to themselves.

In a time when our country is politically divided and being super ugly to each other, it was heartwarming to see how quickly people were to lend a helping hand. We rallied together and lifted each other up in our collective time of need. Even if this showing of goodwill only lasts as long as it takes my son to tie his shoes, my faith in humanity has been restored. 

As for the next time a hurricane may be heading our way...I have a feeling people are going to be preparing much differently, and taking the threat much more seriously.

What Happens in Vegas...

Today, I'm happy to be sharing a steamy excerpt from Rayanna Jamison's delicious new BDSM romance, Collared!

Blurb:

Diamond Barrett has spent the last four years hiding in plain sight, working as a show girl in Las Vegas, trying to forget the painful memories of her mother's untimely death. When the details of the gruesome accident finally surface on the morning of her 25th birthday, Diamond's pain leads her to a series of bad choices that result in the loss of her job.

Now what?

Paxton Donovan's very presence exudes dominance and captures the attention of everyone around him. He has spent years creating his brand as a business owner and professional dominant. There is no time for anything that interferes with the order with which he runs his business and life. Structure, order, rules, discipline. Business without pleasure. No distractions.

But nothing could have prepared Pax for Diamond as their two worlds collide and both of their perfectly ordered and quiet lives combust. Will their undeniable attraction and intense passion be worth the risk of pain and heartache as they shatter their safe lives?

Ecxerpt 

“You need to remember your place,” he scolded, punctuating each word with a hard swat to her denim clad cheeks. “And, I am going to help you with that.”

With that settled, he let go of her arm. “Stay in position.” Reaching around her, with both hands, he found the button of her shorts, and released it, deftly sliding the shorts down to her ankles, and her panties with them.

She whimpered, softly, a guttural groan in the back of her throat. She knew that whatever came next would not be good, but she stayed in position.

“Put your feet apart, and grab your ankles.”

Pax stood back, watching as she followed his instructions, bringing her bits into full view. She had been waxed last week, and the results were something he would never tire of seeing.

She peered at him, glaring up from the space between her legs. Her expression seemed to challenge him. “What now?” she seemed to be saying.

“Patience, my little sub,” he purred, moving closer to her, so that she was back within arm’s reach, watching her face soften at his expression. Calling a sub, “sub” always seemed to hit that button, and he enjoyed watching them melt right before he claimed them.

He slapped her ass, watching with satisfaction as the skin bounced and reddened under the impact of his hand.

“Who’s in charge here, little sub?” he growled, nearly panting through his controlled arousal. He would play with her, and teach her a lesson, but there would be no sexual release for either of them. They were at her father’s house for God’s sake.

“You are, Sir” she squealed, as he pressed against her tightly puckered opening. Her face was flushed and she was biting her lip, as she tried to give up control, fighting her instinct to move away from his prodding fingers. He smiled to himself, recognizing the signs. She had never been touched here before.

“My little sub seems to be an anal virgin,” he teased, growing hard himself as he pushed his index finger past her tight virgin barrier.  

“Yes, sir!” she squeaked out. “And I was hoping to keep it that way!”

Shaking his head, he chuckled deeply at her hesitancy. “That’s not going to happen, pet. I own all of you, and I will punish all of you. There is no quicker way to remind a naughty sub of her place than by claiming her naughty bottom hole.”

He pumped his finger in and out slowly, watching as she struggled to hold position against this new violation. She was uncomfortable, sure, and sorry for her misstep, which was kind of the point, but her glistening pussy told the story the rest of her would never tell. She was horny as fuck. She didn’t want to be turned on with a finger in her ass—they never did, but she was.

“Naughty subs get their bottoms punished often, pet. Anal punishments are a powerful tool in my arsenal, as you will soon learn. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, and will train your naughty little hole to take more and more each time, and someday, you will take my cock here, and you will scream as I fuck your naughty little ass. It will happen, my pet. There’s no avoiding it. That day will come.”

Purchase links:

Amazon Author Page:  amazon.com/author/rayannajamison

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Amazon UK:

Blushing Books: 

Author Bio:

Writing has been a passion of mine since I was 9 years old, and I always dreamed of becoming an author, but life happens and sometimes that first step seems like a giant leap. I credit a life changing move from the Oregon to Utah in the fall of 2013 as the catalyst that began my writing career.

I now reside in Southern Utah with my husband, my two children, two dogs, my mother, my 90 year old grandfather and a lizard named Leo.

I write what I love to read, which is fun romantic stories about submission in its many forms, and often joke that my stories get slightly dirtier with each one I write. When I am not writing, I enjoy my passions, which include cooking, drinking good coffee and good wine, shopping for crazy knee socks, celebrating with sushi for every occasion, and most of all spending time with my friends and family.

#MySexySaturday ~Sexy Beast~ #Erotic #Scifi

Welcome to Sexy Beast week on My Sexy Saturday! I don't have any shapeshifting sexy beasts lying around, but I do have some dark and depraved cyborgs. In my scifi world, my cyborgs are called Monrok and they've just been given a human of their own.

 Taking Their Human

Allyson

“May I have your shirt?” I tentatively ask Kein. He had made me feel safe if only for a moment the other day, so I peg him as the nicer of the twins.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m naked.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“And your form is pleasing to look at.” His voice is a dark purr as his avid gaze wanders over me.

Heat creeps up my neck and over my face. “Th-that’s not the p-point,” I stutter, thrown off guard.

A big black shirt drops over my head. “Now you have a shirt,” Cal grumbles from behind me. “It will not change anything.” I freeze at the ominous reminder.

The shirt comes nearly to my knees. It’s warm from being on Cal but has no scent. Not a hint of laundry detergent, soap, or anything. And Cal is wrong. It does change things. I already feel a little better. Stronger. More capable of handling whatever is about to come.

I push my arms through the sleeves, turning to thank him, but he’s already has his back to us. His incredibly muscular back. Wow. He has long surgical scars running up either side and one across the middle. They are hardly detectable, but there just the same.

Taking Their Human by Aubrey Cara

Upon waking in a dimly lit white room, my biggest fear was that I had been kidnapped by a serial killer. I learned there are things out here in the universe much worse than anything on Earth. And, even if you escape, you can never go home.

They’re not kind, these being who stole me and want to use me as chattel. The others—part man, part machine— have claimed me for their own, but I’m far from saved.

Taking Their Human is one of five dark erotic sci-fi alien warrior romances in Human Surrender.

 

Fierce alien warriors don't ask.

They take, they claim, and they conquer - even when the object of their desires is a trembling human female.

Human Surrender contains five *all-new* dark sci-fi alien romance novellas, brought to you by USA Today and international bestselling authors of BDSM and spanking romance. Featured novellas:

Taking Their Human by Aubrey Cara

Pallid Slave by Alta Hensley

His Human Slave by Renee Rose

Their Captive Mate by Kallista Dane

Kenan’s Mate by Sue Lyndon

Publisher’s Note: The books included in this naughty collection are MF and MFM pairings. Though the stories are dark, all have happy endings. **Over 175,000 words of dark romance ~ complete stories with no cliffhangers**

BUY LINKS

Amazon: AMAZON

Amazon UK: AMAZON UK

B&N: B&N

Kobo:

iBooks:iBook

Blushing Books:

ARe: ARe

Smashwords

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