Libby's Journal - February

February 1

Yesterday, we had a bunch of snow, which was fun, but today it was warmer and the snow was starting to melt. Naturally, I hiked all over the property, wearing only my tall boots, and did not feel cold at all because hiking in deep snow is great exercise.

I got slightly lost at one point, but it did not take me long to get my bearings again. I know this property pretty well by now -- plus there is the built-in advantage that we live on a big hill. Whenever I get turned around, all I need to do is get out of the woods to a clearing where I can see the lay of the land. Yet that brief moment was so thrilling to me because technically, I was "lost in the woods naked in the snow!" I wasn't in any actual danger, of course, because it wasn't that cold and I knew I'd find my way eventually, but still it was an exciting little moment.

When I got back to the house, I didn't want to go inside yet, so I assigned myself the task of shoveling the front walk (even though no one ever walks on it and the snow would be gone in a day or two anyways). But the walk existed, and therefore it should be shoveled. That is also great exercise when the snow is wet and heavy, and I felt so toasty warm I was practically sweating.

Then I decided it was time to pick up the mail, so I hiked down the long driveway to do that. Although it had been sunny earlier, now the sky was overcast, and it started to precipitate in what the weatherman calls a "wintry mix" of rain and snow.

By the time I got to the gate, sleet was coming down steadily and the Amazing Nature Girl was finally starting to get cold. Temperature-wise, I'd been out on colder days, but icy rain makes it a little more challenging, especially when it is coming down hard. After I picked up the mail, I went to Jayne's back porch and knocked on the kitchen door, but she didn't answer, and I remembered she was going someplace that day. The door was unlocked, but I didn't want to go in uninvited, so I plunged back out into the sleet and made my way up the slippery driveway. I was shivering by the time I got to the house and took a long, hot bath.

* * * * *

February 3

Mona and I are visiting Chicago. It's a business trip for her, a conference, and I tagged along. We arrived Sunday, and it happened to be "Super Bowl Sunday," so Mona had timed it so we'd be settled in the hotel room just in time to watch the game.

Had we been home, we would undoubtedly have been hosting a Super Bowl party with some assortment of Mona's many jock friends. She plays on several amateur league sports teams -- including basketball, softball, soccer and occasionally rugby. There's a core group of women, including Andrea, who play on these teams, but the softball team also includes some dudes.

Regardless of the sport or time of year, Mona likes to have game-watching parties. I enjoy the social aspect of these gatherings, but am more interested in who is coming to the party than who is playing, because the makeup of the party guests influences what I decide to wear or not wear, at least at the beginning. Naturally, if someone brings their kid or something, then I am happy to remain fully dressed the whole time. If it's all adults, then it's a judgment call on my part.

I'm completely comfortable going naked around Mona's main group of female teammates, most of whom are lesbians. I'm also comfortable with the straight chicks, of course, though they do sometimes bring husbands and boyfriends with them. But that's okay.

I'm comfortable being naked at parties at our house, even when there is a modest percentage of guys in the mix -- provided they have gone through Mona's vetting process. She jokes that this process involves the temporary surgical removal of one testicle, which will be returned to its owner in a jar by the end of the event if he has behaved. This is a slight exaggeration.

Granted, she does own a jar of testicles floating in formaldehyde, but those are just dog balls given to her as a joke by a veterinarian friend. There actually isn't any specific "vetting" process other than Mona making her always-wise judgments on whom she invites, plus her informing those invitees (if they didn't already know) that her life partner is a nudist who may or may not be naked when they visit, and so if they are uncomfortable with that idea then they definitely should not attend.

At last year's Super Bowl party, there were several people, including dudes, that I didn't know well enough, so I started off wearing shorts and a bikini top with ties at the neck and back. Mona and I are good at communicating just with eye contact, so when I let her know I was ready, she deftly swiped my top, and I made a little show of minimal resistance before quickly reaching the acceptance stage to much applause.

As I do at any game-watching party, I was constantly going back and forth to the kitchen, bringing food and beer and collecting empties. As I did this, I was carrying around my own wine glass, which I would top off whenever I was in the kitchen. Thusly, I got myself sufficiently buzzed before halftime so when I was alone again in the kitchen, I wiggled out of my shorts and marched into the hallway where I dropped them down the laundry chute.

Although I had decided I wanted to be naked by halftime, I didn't really think about the fact that in the Super Bowl, the last two minutes before halftime are really important. Everyone but me was totally focused on the game as I casually went into the living room to collect empty bottles and plates and replace them with fresh, but one by one, people started noticing I was now bottomless as well as topless. As always, I acted oblivious and just went about my business -- while on TV our group's favored team scored a dramatic touchdown to take the lead as time expired. Fortunately, there were multiple replays of this feat, because not everyone in our group saw it the first time.

But regardless of the group or the game, when we are home, I can pay minimal attention to the game as I go back and forth to the kitchen. In the hotel room I was stuck watching the game, so when I have to watch a game, I pick the team opposite the one Mona wants and immediately become its most ardent fan. I put down Mona's team and insult everything they do. And this time, "my" team won against those other guys who were supposed to win. I razzed her mercilessly, and she resorted to tickling. We are both quite ticklish and know each other's most vulnerable spots. I am vulnerable just about everywhere, and when I'm not dressed, I'm a pretty easy target. With Mona, the best place is her underarms, but she is pretty strong so it's hard for me to get her unless I take her by surprise. Anyways, we ended up having a good time watching that stupid game.

* * * * *

We are still in Chicago, and I have spent a lot of time at the Art Institute and other museums during the day while Mona is in her conference sessions.

Last night we had a marvelous time because there was ballroom dancing -- with an orchestra and everything! We knew about that in advance, so we brought along our fancy dresses. Mona rarely wears dresses or makeup, but she will do so on special occasions. Lots of pants-oriented lesbians prefer tuxedo-style pantsuits for such events -- and that is fine, of course -- but Mona doesn't mind getting dolled up once in a while -- and she knows I love it when she does.

We are both pretty good dancers in the modern-day sense, in which you just bop to the music in whatever way you want. But last Valentine's Day, Mona surprised me by signing us up for ballroom dance lessons. So we now know how to foxtrot, waltz and even tango. We practice regularly at home when we are in the mood, and once in a while, we have an opportunity to do it in a real ballroom.

Well, we had a wonderful time. It was very romantic. One thing I have always loved about Mona, right from the very first days when we were dating, is that she is never self-conscious about us being a couple in public. We hold hands and kiss hello-goodbye just like any straight couple would do. Most of the women I've dated in the past instinctively held back any emotional displays in public, but not Mona.

I love that she likes to show me off to her mostly male banker colleagues. Granted, I'm a goofball who doesn't know how to act sultry, but in terms of natural physical appearance, I turned out okay. And put me in a fancy dress and pearls and well, baby, you might have to adjust the setting on your pacemaker because I can look pretty hot when I try.

And Mona! She absolutely stuns them cause the guys who know her day-to-day always see her in pants suits and no makeup, and then suddenly there she is all done up and wearing a fancy dress that shows lots of white freckled skin they normally don't get to see.

The orchestra played mostly waltzes, and we sailed and twirled in a big circle around a huge fancy hall with twinkly chandeliers and so on. But all of that was like a background blur cause we only had eyes for each other. It was like we were all alone out there, and our eyes were locked on each other, and we were having one of those times when it's like we're falling in love all over again.

When we got back to our hotel room, we stood in front of the big mirror and undressed each other down to our shoes and our jewelry. Mona stood behind me with her hands caressing my front while we looked at ourselves in the mirrors. I had a very lovely orgasm in that position, and then we went to bed and had lots more fun, which I will decline to describe in detail here. I speak of such things -- delicately of course -- on my Sex page.

* * * * *

February 9

We are back home and Jack is visiting again because I am ovulating and we are in the midst of another effort to get me pregnant with a turkey baster. He is staying up in the cabin and fixing it up when he is not otherwise engaged masturbating into a cup.

Last month, when we did this the first time, we only did it once, but then we realized afterwards that during the couple days that I am ovulating, we might as well do it as many times as Jack can, ahem, produce. So yesterday we did it three times, and he offered to do it again, but Mona said we should not overtax our prized stud stallion.

Each time we did it, Mona would position me upside down against the headboard with my butt and legs up against the wall. I was wearing a loose summer dress that I could tuck between my thighs when Jack was in the room and let it fall when he stepped out again so Mona could take care of business. As we did last month, Jack would take his cup to the bathroom and return in a few minutes and give the cup to Mona, who would insert his stuff into the turkey baster as he left the room. Then I'd drop my dress, and Mona would insert it into me and give it several squeezes to get it all out.

But THEN there was another important step because that story Mona told me about how you're more likely to conceive if you orgasm -- it's actually true! I've been reading fertility books and websites, and I've come across it two or three times. Supposedly, your cervix changes shape when you orgasm, and that helps "scoop up" the semen. I showed it to Mona, and she laughed because when she'd told me that before, she was just kidding, and now we learned it was true! So, as you can guess, that meant every time we made a deposit, we also had to make me come -- which is actually easy to do. Mona can pop an orgasm out of me in no time, and I found this particular situation especially sexy because we were side-by-side on the bed leaning against the headboard but I was upside down so, well, you know, those logistics have a lot of potential when the objective is for the upside-down-person to have an orgasm.

I did initially find the tip of the baster uncomfortable inside me, but the enterprising Mona found a way to fix that. We had bought a couple basters of different sizes so she took the rubber squeezeball from the smaller one, slit a hole in it and fitted it over the end of the larger baster, so it wouldn't scratch me inside. That worked, but it made the big turkey baster look rather more phallic than usual. The "shaft" is metal and the rubber ball thing at the end is pink so the thing ended up looking like some caricature of a robot penis or something.

We were all having a pretty good time, Mona especially because she was the only one partying. I was abstaining from alcohol and pot for potential pregnancy reasons. Jack, who hardly drinks anyway, was just sipping on one glass of wine and declined any pot because he said he didn't want any of his little swimmers to get disoriented and go the wrong way or to just sit around asking each other "like, why do we exist, dude?"

But Mona was free to indulge, and she did. In between sessions, she was playing with the turkey baster -- sticking it out of the zipper of her jeans as she strutted around pretending to masturbate it like a guy. She had her other hand down the front of her jeans holding it in place, and -- we realized too late -- she had filled it with water. So when she pretended to come, she squirted the water out on the kitchen floor. It was quite a hoot.

At one point in the evening, she and I were in the bedroom getting ready for the third or fourth session, and she started worming her head under my skirt, and I was pushing her away, saying wait a minute, Jack's not even in the bathroom with his cup yet. In fact, he was coming up the stairs, and I didn't want him to see us. But she did, and timed it the way she apparently intended. He got a nice glimpse of her pulling out from under my skirt with her nose and chin shiny wet. Then she met him in the hallway, handed him his cup, and gave him a little kiss right on the lips "for luck," when of course what she intentionally did was to smear my wetness on him so he could smell it, and then she just walked away. I caught his glance, and he just grinned and called to her over his shoulder. "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me."

And today we're going to do it all again!

* * * * *

February 11

Well, things have sure been different recently. Andrea and Dana just moved in with us! It's temporary while they build their house on an acre of our property that Mona sold them. They had to get out of their apartment cause of the lease situation and had planned to move into a condo belonging to a friend of Andrea's, but that fell through at the last minute. So we said, heck move in with us.

Of course, we all know that living together can wreck the best of friendships, so we made a pact to communicate about anything that's bugging us before it gets out of hand. They could always get a short-term apartment situation if they needed to. Personally, I think it will be great and that they'll just stay til spring. They both work during the day so I'm home alone as usual. Lately, I've been going over to Jayne's in the mornings to help with her ceramics, then I'm home alone in the afternoon, and then my three roomies come home around six and I make dinner for everybody. I'm really enjoying having people around more often.

* * * * *

Today, when I took my afternoon walk down to the mailbox, the temperature was in the mid-20s (for my international readers, that's in Fahrenheit; do your own math). The Amazing Nature Girl can handle the cold just fine if there is not much wind, but today it was swirling in big random gusts, and the snow was coming down in tiny icy granules that stung my skin.

After I got the mail, I glanced at Jayne's house and was grateful to see her in the window waving for me to come over. I could definitely use a warm-up before the return trek up the hill. The icy snow was pounding me like a sandblaster as I hurried up the steps of her back porch. Jayne opened the kitchen door, and as I entered the warm house and stepped out of my boots, I heard voices. She had company!

Jayne knows me better than anyone except Mona, so she knows I am thrilled by this exact situation -- just so long as no one is going to be offended or uncomfortable. But I always trust her, and when I saw the faces, I knew it was fine. The people in her house were two women and a guy that I knew well from our artists group.

Our property is a short drive from the quaint little college town where Jayne and I met. We were both art models at the college while also trying to sell our own art at the perpetual art fair on the town square. We got to know a lot of the local artists, and we both still sell our stuff at the square some weekends. Many of these people have seen me nude as a model, some have seen me naked at parties at either my house or Jayne's, and I'm sure most of the rest have at least heard about my nudist proclivities.

As such, the three people in Jayne's house probably would not have been too surprised if I had walked in the door naked on a pleasant summer day, but they were astounded to see me do so in this weather. Naturally, I was eating up the attention, as Jayne knew I would.

Jayne had made hot toddies with rum and gave me a mug, which definitely warmed me up. After the fuss over my entrance subsided, we all sat around Jayne's kitchen drinking and talking. One of the visitors was filling Jayne in on a dispute that was brewing with the town council over how many days a year the art fair can use the town square. Previously, there had been no limit and artists' booths were up from spring to fall.

These three artists had come to tell Jayne about it because she had sort of become the group's informal leader. She was fired up about this news and started calling some of the other artists to spread the word. I knew she was making calls and sending messages, but I didn't quite realize she was also inviting everyone to come right over to talk about it.

I was on my second hot toddy when people started showing up in groups of two or three, and before I knew it there were 25 or 30 people in the house -- and I was naked. Everyone noticed me as soon as they came in the door because I wasn't off in the corner behind a table, but sitting on a bar stool with zero cover. I didn't even have the option of moving because all the other seats were quickly taken.

I was a bit nervous because I hadn't intended to do this -- and would not have chosen to because of my fear of offending someone -- but any worries I had were swept away by the universal love and acceptance I was getting from everyone who walked in that door. The fact that they were seeing my naked body at all wasn't any big shock to them. They were just surprised -- and delighted -- to find me naked in this particular situation and in the dead of winter. I love seeing that expression on people's faces -- eyebrows up, mouth open in a grin -- because it is so unambiguously positive. It is impossible to feel anything negative when someone looks at you like that. Of course, it helped that I was at a really nice place in my bipolar cycle and was feeling confident, beautiful and sexy in a demurely wholesome way. That's my sweet spot.

Jayne got everyone's attention and started explaining the issue, but she was standing at the kitchen counter right next to where I was perched on the barstool. So even when people were paying attention to her, they were looking at me, and all I could do was keep my hands folded in my lap to keep from flashing our audience.

Led by Jayne, the artists came to a consensus on how they wanted to approach the problem. As part of that, it was decided that the group needed to officially form an organization. Not surprisingly, Jayne was nominated to be president and all agreed. Then others either volunteered or were invited to be vice president and treasurer. Then someone nominated ME to be secretary and I got voted in also!

Since time was of the essence, Jayne immediately called the new board together. We four sat at the dining room table and did the whole Robert's Rules of Order routine as we formally authorized Jayne to begin discussions with town officials to seek a solution. I had by this time consumed two hot toddies and also felt my mania meter crank up a notch so I was giddy and my cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling as I voted "aye" and did my official task of keeping minutes on a random scrap of paper.

As we were wrapping up and voting to adjourn, I saw Mona's car go through the gate and up the driveway. I was afraid she'd think I got lost in the snow naked, so I used Jayne's phone to call her. She offered to come get me, but I was feeling warm and toasty as I bid goodbye to the group and stepped outside, invincibly naked in the sharp winter air.

February 15

We had a nice Valentine's Day, but we always do. I sent Mona a dozen long-stemmed white roses at her office, along with a mushy note which I knew she would leave out for anyone to see. I'm not that much of a fan of roses myself -- they don't last long enough -- so Mona sends me spring flower collections instead, which she knows I prefer. But since they don't cost as much as roses she insists on sending me a whole bunch of spring flowers to make up for it, and she knows I like to arrange them myself so the flower delivery guy came with this huge amount of flowers and I spent an hour or so cutting them and arranging them in four different vases (I have lots of vases). I just love doing that, especially this time of year because in summer I have so many flowers blooming outside that we can have cut flowers inside all the time, and in winter I sometimes get a bit depressed with the gray short days -- so a houseful of flowers in February is just what I need.

So, anyways, then around 4 p.m. I heard the bell that means the security gate is opening, and I knew it was her, coming home early. She brought my favorite chocolates, and of course, I had bought her favorites for her (these are similar, but not exactly the same). But Mona also brought me something I hadn't expected -- a new set of temporary tattoos! I have never wanted a permanent tattoo, but I love the temporary ones. I like little teeny flowers and vines, and I like to have a whole lot of them on me, and I like Mona to meticulously put them on me, carefully placing each one in whatever pattern strikes her mood. She always starts down between my legs so that it looks like the vines originate from my vagina and spread out from there in a Mother Earth kinda way.

But this time she had special Valentine's Day tats designed to look like those little candy hearts with lovey messages on them. Mona and I spent the next hour decorating me, and although the heart design was not as vagina-centric as the vines, still she spent a lot of time in that vicinity, pausing at her work twice to give me orgasms. Eventually, she let me return the favor. By the time Andrea and Dana came home, I had about a zillion hearts on me, and Mona had some on her also, but by that point had put her clothes back on, so only a couple were visible on her neck. I put them there intentionally so they might be seen by her co-workers, but I put them low enough that she could cover them with a collar or scarf them if she wanted. This morning, when Mona got dressed for work, she picked a v-neck blouse with no collar at all. So even though she was otherwise wearing a very businesslike pantsuit, those two hearts were completely unobscured. I love that woman.

* * * * *

February 21

The other day, I got kicked out of an online discussion group for being gay. I had never participated in discussion groups before, but was looking for experiences of other women who had tried the turkey baster method to get pregnant. I found this Yahoo group that seemed on target, and it was moderated, so I had to submit a little background on myself to join.

So I wrote about having bipolar disorder all my life, finally getting diagnosed and treated, and now having to wean myself off those meds while I try to have a baby. The moderator let me in the group, and she and the other women all cooed over me and were so very sweet and sympathetic -- and they encouraged me to tell them more.

In my second post, I said my girlfriend and I were trying the turkey baster method, and I was wondering if any of them had gotten pregnant that way. And then right after I made that second post ZAP I wasn't a member of the group anymore. I couldn't even ask why, but when I looked more closely at the description of the group I saw that the organizer said the group was not open to lesbians because that lifestyle is against Christ's teachings.

I grew up Catholic and still go to mass though my spiritual beliefs do not include Jesus dying for my sins, nor an all-powerful God who decided to permit thousands of years of vast global suffering because heck, that was just part of his "plan." But I do know the Bible pretty well and would like to have explained to that lady that Jesus never said a thing about homosexuality. He did, however, make himself pretty clear on the subjects of divorce (Matthew 19:9) and the accumulation of great wealth (Matthew 19:24, Mark 10:25, Luke 18:25). Yet I suspect the lady running that forum does not warn her prospective members they are not welcome if they are rich or remarried.

Yes, I know there are a few places in the Bible where people not named Jesus condemn homosexuality, but when people say they are followers of Christ, I would think they would focus more specifically on what, according to the Bible, their Christ actually said and what He did NOT say. Some Protestant Bibles have the words of Jesus printed in red ink. I strongly recommend that anyone who THINKS they know what is or is not "against Christ's teachings" get yourself one of those Bibles and ONLY read the words in red. You may find that quite illuminating.

Oh, and just as a side note, every single anti-gay Bible quote in both the Old and New Testaments refers to "men lying with men" or the very specific term "sodomy." So apparently, even the fire & brimstone Old Testament God had nothing bad to say against lesbianism. There are a lot of prohibitions, condemnations and abominations in the Old Testament, including working on the Sabbath (Lev. 23:3), eating shrimp (Lev. 11:9-12), eating pork (Lev. 11:4-7), planting two kinds of seed in the same field (Lev. 19:19), not standing in the presence of the elderly (Lev. 19:32) or getting a tattoo or a piercing (Lev. 19:28). It is a very long list, but "girls eating each others' pussies" is never once mentioned -- not anywhere in the Bible. So, I think we're in the clear, girls.

* * * * *

February 27

Yesterday, it was 50 degrees soooooo The Amazing Nature Girl had herself some outdoor play time! Although I pride myself in being able to weather lower temperatures, I definitely prefer it to be warmer and this felt like spring.

There is not much to do outdoors at this time of year, so I just walked around and then lay down and rolled on the dry winter grass. I like to be directly on the ground sometimes. I laid flat on my back and gripped a bit of turf in each hand as the world spun beneath me. And no, I was not high. Not the way you are thinking anyways. But I am, after all, a pagan earth worshipper and this is just, you know, the kind of stuff we do.

Mona was inside working on her laptop, but I knew she was keeping an eye on me through the big picture window in the dining room. After a while, she came out -- not naked, of course (she is a weather weenie and it has to be midsummer for her to do that). But anyways she came out and walked up to me and held me and fussed over how cold my skin was, but I felt warm. She caressed me out there in the open where we both knew no one could see us. I had a lovely stand-up orgasm and then we decided to migrate inside and go to our bedroom where we'd be more comfy.

But as we were going in the back door Dana and Andrea came bursting in the front door. They had been meeting with their building contractor, and they were all excited about the updated plans for their house and just had to show them to us. So we spread everything out on the dining room table, and we let Dana gush on and on over all the details. Dana is "the quiet one" in our group, and it is always fun to see her let loose.

So then, after all that, it was time to get dinner started. I was making a complicated new recipe and had to double it so there was math involved. Mona offered to help me, but all she really wanted to do was put her hands on me and make me forget how to multiply fractions.