This is a long show for two reasons. A) I am lazy about editing and B) my interviewee this week was so fascinating and sexy there was nothing to take out anyway.
We talked about writing, music, porn, and breakfast pastries.

Download Bedroom Radio #4 (128k, 50 minutes) or Subscribe!

Show Notes
Special Guest: Mr. Vinnie Tesla
Fiction (read by the charming author himself): Dirty
A Long Expected Party
Music: Vinnie’s Pick – Rachelle Garniez “Spike Heel”
Ellie’s Pick – Sylvie Vartan “Nostalgia” (her website is totally in French)
Comments? Questions? Adoration? Naked pictures?
Email – bedroomradio@gmail.com
Phone – 206-339-7357
Website – BedroomRadio.com
Blog – Lumpesse.com

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What people are saying about Bedroom Radio:

“Positively breathtaking. Such a perfect sweet and sultry voice. The world owes you one.”;
“has me harder than Chinese Algebra”;
“absolutely hotter than hell”;
“profoundly alluring”;
“incredibly intimate”;
“smart and sexy as hell”;
“best premise in podcasting history”

Last night I spent some time at the laundromat and while I had a magazine with me to read, I forgot to grab my notPod on the way out the door. For this reason, my mind was left to wander as I folded my laundry. I realized a few amusing things:
a. thongs can’t be folded, there isn’t enough fabric to do anything with;
b. there is no fully logical pile of garments to sort a dildo harness into, slipping it in with the bras will have to do.

However, the primary thing that I noticed is that my balance of sexy/cute panties versus boring/plain ones has decidedly shifted. When I started seeing my boyfriend, C, I owned exactly zero pairs of sexy/cute panties. Seriously. In fact, it never even occurred to me to get any – I didn’t think I was sexy or cute, why should my panties be? This means that I didn’t have a single pair that didn’t come in a 6-pack wrapped in plastic. The most daring deviation from this standard were a few pairs in pink.

The first time we fooled around, it suddenly struck me that I was wearing ridiculous panties for the occasion. I was embarrassed and apologized to C; he assured me that he didn’t care and I was dreadfully sexy. I wasn’t yet in a place to believe this. However, after that first weekend together was over I asked him if he would like me to buy some sexier underthings. He insisted that it wasn’t *necessary* but admit that it would be nice. Those first purchases were very tame and from JC Penny (no joke!) but he was transfixed by a particular pair of sheer backed, lacey, black briefs I chose. They are still his favorites out of my entire underwear collection. It is a comfort to think of all of the times that I have felt his hands caress my rear through that specific piece of thin material.

As I folded laundry, I kept the panties in discreet piles, dividing them between sexy and non-sexy. When I was done, the cute underwear won out by a landslide. I realized that the last time I purchased white cotton briefs was 10 months ago when I was preparing for a trip to Turkey and a new 12-pack seemed comforting and logical. The remaining pairs from that purchase seemed sad and weak compared to the tantalizing pile beside them. There were full-lace boy shorts and low cut briefs with various silly patterns (Superman, Hello Kitty, unicorns, butterflies, flowers – even a polka-dot pair that bears a striking resemblance to a Blogger template). And there were the new additions, the thongs, that I am getting increasingly comfortable with.

It seems silly to measure myself against the vibrancy and diversity of my panty drawer. Aside from being an incredibly consumer-oriented approach, can I really say that my sexual awakening is manifested through these eye-catching bits of fabric? Oddly enough, I think I can. In the past 6 months (roughly since the start of this blog) purchasing these sorts of panties has become a given, I don’t really consider the boring ones anymore. Additionally, I have stopped wholly considering my boyfriend when making the purchase. There was a time when I couldn’t wait for him to see new underthings when I got them – I guess I wanted his approval. Now I have come to a place where I certainly love showing them off to him but it doesn’t seem necessary. I can enjoy these pretty things for myself because I am comfortable in my own skin.

The first time C licked my pussy, he had to wrestle white granny panties out of the way for access. The most recent time, he slipped his fingers under the lacy waist band of a black thong and teased my clit with his tongue through the thin panel of sheer material covering my pussy. In the 3 years that have transpired between these two instances, it is clear to me that not just the panties have changed, but also the woman inside them.

Bedroom Radio is a show about sex and music – and what happens when they work together. It is hosted by Ellie.

Download Bedroom Radio – Episode #3 (128k) or Subscribe!

On this week’s show:

Podcast Review – Professor P’s Porn Panorama

Sexy Song of the Week – The Autumns “Slow Kiss” from Le Carillon

Dancing with Myself – Beanfield “Charles”. If you have ideas about songs that I should use in this segment, email the song to me at bedroomradio@gmail.com, if I use your song I’ll mail you a mix CD!

Fiction – Night Air, Cut Grass, Damp Nylon, Wood Smoke, Cunt by Vinnie Tesla. Vinnie will be my guest on next week’s show.

BedroomRadio.com
Lumpesse.com

Photograph of and by the sexy and talented MENSAsexual. This is the second in my series on past and present phone sex partners. I started here and am working my way backwards from the most recent.

E found me on Alt.com, since then I’ve given up on that site but I consider him to be a good find. I was immediately attracted to E for two reasons; he was very polite and incredibly honest. He told me immediately that he had a girlfriend and didn’t want to cheat on her but was sexually unfulfilled. I still consider myself a beginner with D/s but E was a complete novice. All he knew was that the had a deep fantasy of submitting to a woman and being used as a tool of her pleasure – something that his girlfriend would never do.

The first night that E and I met we ended up on the phone and talked literally all night. We spoke about sex but a lot of our conversation was just about books, philosophy, politics. We clicked and became fast friends. He also asked me to order him around on the phone that night. I’m certainly not an expert but I managed to please him. My favorite trick is orgasm denial and he responded to that quite nicely. I remember being in awe of his excitement. In turn he was completely in awe of me. E was the first submissive man I ever really got to know and playing with him on the phone was both frightening and empowering at once.

E and I actually ended up going on a sort of date a few days later. We met at a jazz bar down the street from my house and sat together for hours talking. Meeting E was the first time that I projected my sexually confident self into the real world. Here I was at a bar that all of my professors frequent, sitting with a man who reads this blog and desperately wants me to tie him up and do nasty things to him. It was a head rush to say the least and the chemistry between E and I was marked. By the end of the evening we were quite close together on the couch and my leg was touching his. The only thing I could focus on in that moment was the inch of our flesh that was in contact – this small thing rendered me conversationally useless.

E didn’t kiss me that night. Instead we both went our separate ways and when we were safely miles apart in our own homes he confessed how much he had wanted me but couldn’t cheat on his girlfriend, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. His ethics just made me want him more but I obviously respected his wishes. E and I spoke on the phone one more time after that. He loved the way I sound when I orgasm and heaped glowing praise upon me for it. He confessed how desperately tempted he was to cheat on his girlfriend and I reminded him that I only wanted to kiss him.

In the end, the temptation made him realize he had to reconcile his relationship. E spoke with his girlfriend and they happily decided to try to mend their relationship. I was happy for him of course but admittedly a bit disappointed. E was delicious to listen to and incredibly tempting not to mention the first guy that my boyfriend had declared he was willing to meet and consider me sleeping with.

I know for a fact that had I kissed E that night at the bar, he would have kissed back. Do I regret not going for it? That is a difficult question in many ways – I think I would have had immense guilt for putting him in that situation. But I would be a liar to say that I don’t still wonder what his lips taste like.

I started a chronicle of my past and current phone sex partners yesterday. This morning I noticed that two other bloggers were writing about phone sex and saying very smart and sexy things. So, in honor of the theme I had to comment on them.

A Polite Boy writes about his youthful forays into phone sex party lines. I didn’t think that anyone could make the prospect of them sound sexy, but he takes the cake.

Somewhere inside that, I heard a buzzing, and her muffled voice say, “Please tell me that again.”

The next thing I knew, she was moaning into my ear and my wrist and stomach were coated with cum.

I bet you want to know what he said to her? Well it is fucking hot, I tell you. I’m thinking of trying to get him to say it to me. . .

The Virgin Slut also got me hot and bothered today with her post on a video made for her.

A sound escapes from his core, “Ahh!” Later, his body will smother his words and allow him to just breathe. The force of the air he exhale slaps the microphone, hard. The speakers amplify and resonate his breath for me; the sounds strike in my cunt, hard. The air he blows out is hot, wet and hard, and it comes from a part of him that is also hot, wet and hard.

This one I can particularly relate to. There is a certain quality of sounds that resonates through one’s whole body. Anticipating the sounds that someone will make can be an incredibly suspenseful and sexy thing – it keeps you on the edge of fulfillment. I have found that hearing someone sharply inhale is like being teased, the exhale has to come eventually, it will be delicious, but when will it arrive? When it eventually hits, it arrives like a caress, or perhaps even something less tender.

He isn’t as kinky as M.

Or as sensual and articulate as D.

I don’t hate him, like I did J.

I don’t crave him, like I do with A.

He isn’t as in awe of me as E.

But the fact that B has made such an impression on me in a week that I compare him in my mind to every other man I have had phone sex with must mean something.

After the first time we spoke, I realized there was something different about what just happened. I also realize that “different” is a moot word because they have all been quite unique. But B weighs on my mind because he is the most recent. I find myself thinking about how he sounds at random moments in the day and becoming completely aroused.

I met B recently, he is an amateur photographer and takes lovely and sensitive nude self portraits. I see a lot of clinical looking cock shots on a day-to-day basis but his photos made me stop and hold my breath.

It is no secret that B has a beautiful body. Lithe but with strong-looking shoulders and legs. Tatoos that had clearly been carefully considered and placed. This man is an aesthete. I knew if I met him that I would feel completely inadequate – not beautiful enough at all.

But in our current dynamic, I make him dreadfully nervous. I can hear his arousal when we speak because his voice drops to a sheepish murmur. But something changes when he knows I am on the same page. He has a sincere longing in his voice that is truly sexy and he is one of the most vocal men I have ever spoken to. His moans and sighs are very clear, almost feminine. He whispers delicious words into my ears, sounding like he can barely pass them through his lips.

The best thing about B, though, is that he has made me contemplate those that came before. This is the first in a series.

Included in this week’s show:

Music Press Shakedown – Rolling Stone is a poor magazine
Dancin’ With Myself – “Harriett” by Joe McPhee
Sexy Song of the Week – “Shave ‘Em Dry” by Lucille Bogan

Download Bedroom Radio – Episode #2 (128k) or Subscribe!

Also, check out an exclusive extra edition of Dancin’ With Myself at Sam Sugar’s Podnography Episode #10.

Comments or questions? Email me!

The LA Times reports that Doors drummer John Densmore is holding out on allowing the music of the band to be used in commercials. Apparently they have had multi-million dollar offers on the table from Apple and Cadillac and Densmore keeps serving up a veto. He says:

“People lost their virginity to this music, got high for the first time to this music,” Densmore said. “I’ve had people say kids died in Vietnam listening to this music, other people say they know someone who didn’t commit suicide because of this music…. On stage, when we played these songs, they felt mysterious and magic. That’s not for rent.”

Okay, whatever, I stopped believing the authenticity schtick awhile ago. But, I have to admit that it is a nice sentiment. Who wants to hear the song they lost it to in a Cadillac commercial? (Although, I guess there are worst products you could have that mental association with.)

Personally, there wasn’t any music playing when I lost my virginity. That is probably a good thing, knowing me I would hate the band by now or have fetishized the song. One or the other. However, the first time I received head there was a Woody Allen film playing in the background. I had to stop the action after a minute to turn it off, I was afraid that my psyche would be permanently imprinted with neurosis. Turns out it was too late.

What was playing when you lost your virginity?