The Firefighter’s Wife Rekindling Her Sex Life After Hurricane Sandy

Once a week, Daily Intelligencer takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Firefighter's Wife Rekindling Her Sex Life After Hurricane Sandy: Female, 33, Staten Island, former teacher/stay-at-home mom, straight, married.

DAY ONE

6 a.m. A c-ring is around Firefighter's penis. He's just about to climb on top of me when an alarm sounds. My eyelids spring open. I'm not in a firehouse. I'm at home and the bed is empty.

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6:05 a.m. Firefighter (my husband) enters the bedroom for a kiss good-bye before leaving for work. I beg him for a quickie. It's been over a month since we've had sex and my body needs a jolt; vibrators don't do it for me. He says that he can't because he has to stop off at the ATM and then get gas in the truck, which could take forever if not timed right. I understand. Caffeine is the only surge I'm getting. Coffee it is.

10:30 a.m. Munchkin goes down for a nap. I sit at the kitchen table daydreaming of Firefighter and the crazy sex we had a while back in his pickup on the side of a desolate road. Spontaneous romps are rare as parents, and now with Firefighter's hectic work schedule since Hurricane Sandy, it's even worse. The super storm that wiped out neighborhoods also took whatever sex lives we had with it. Determined to rebuild, I conclude that a trip to a lingerie shop is needed.

2 p.m. I march into Frederick's of Hollywood at the local mall, on a mission to re-spark our like-new marriage of two years, and head straight to the wall where all of the red lingerie is displayed. Red looks good on my Italian skin. It's also the color of our favorite things: fire trucks, a good blaze, sweaty faces post-orgasm. I hold up a lace teddy and poke a finger through the slits cut into the cup of each breast. It's sexy. The purchase is made.

4 p.m. Shopping bag is stowed in the closet for tonight.

6 p.m. Dinner is in the oven. Firefighter calls from the station and informs me that he's "awaiting relief." In fireman's terms, this means he'll be home late. Munchkin and I eat supper; a plate is put aside for Firefighter.

7 p.m. Munchkin goes to bed. Mommy has wine.

8 p.m. Firefighter kisses my forehead. I hop up from the couch, wiping drool from the corner of my mouth, and say hello. He plops down beside me and removes his shoes. In a sleepy (and still tipsy) haze, I ask about his day. When he questions mine in reciprocation, I randomly mention how horny I've been. He laughs, noting my grape-stained lips, and says tomorrow is better for that stuff.

8:02 p.m. Bag stays in the closet.            

DAY TWO

6 a.m. Firefighter's body rustles under the sheets and his warm skin touches my backside. The fire in my panties is instant. I slowly gyrate my hips, feeling his morning erection. Feeling his breath down my neck perks my nipples. I reach up and grab his hair. He kisses my nape softly then pinches the skin with his teeth. I let out a little moan, but Munchkin's cry over the baby monitor interjects. Flames are doused. 

10:30 a.m. After a morning of eggs, bacon, and family time, Munchkin falls asleep in Firefighter's arms. I take the baby and tiptoe to the crib, then head to the shower as Firefighter watches something on the DVR.

10:45 a.m. When I turn off the spigot and pull the curtain, Firefighter is standing in front of me, naked and hard, shaking a can of whipped cream in his hand. I smile, laugh, and reach for a towel all at once.

10:46 a.m. Note to self: save lingerie for another day.

10:47 a.m. I'm on my knees. Whipped cream is sticky, but tastes so good.

10:55 a.m. Firefighter lifts me up onto the countertop, aims the can at my vagina, and proceeds to eat dessert before the main course is served. 

11:10 a.m. After we climax, we get in the shower and rinse each other off, laughing at the goopy mess we made.

3:30 p.m. Firefighter leaves for work. He won't be home until tomorrow night. As I begin housework, Munchkin runs around with the brush attachment of the vacuum, yelling, "Me help Mommy!" I love this child. 

DAY THREE

11 a.m. I use "me time" to rifle through my underwear drawer. The c-ring from the dream the other morning is in there along with cuffs, lube, lotions, a vibrator (whose batteries are beyond dead), and a G-string made of sugar candies. I take a bite. It's stale. We need updated sex things.

11:10 a.m. After thinking about it a little more, decide we don't need more sex things, we just have to start dressing up again. I have to wear the new Frederick's number and he his uniform.

11:15 a.m. Send Firefighter a text asking him to bring his bunker gear home tonight, to which he replies, "I think that can be arranged."

6:30 p.m. Firefighter comes home. As he plays with Munchkin, I spy the bunker pants and boots by the front door. Winning.

8 p.m. The tags are cut off the teddy. I slip it on and adjust the cups, making sure the girls are in place.

8:01 p.m. Go into the bedroom, but Firefighter is not there.

8:02 p.m. Check the living room. Nope. Kitchen? No. I walk downstairs to the family room. Wrong again.

8:05 p.m. I enter the garage, the only place left to look. Jackpot. Firefighter is in uniform sitting on his Harley Davidson with a lit cigar in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He compliments my outfit as I walk over and hands me the cup. (He's not a drinker.) I sip the alcohol and then lean in for a puff of his big cherry-flavored tobacco stick. 

8:08 p.m. Firefighter takes the wine glass from my hand, puts the cigar in it, and sets it aside. He then lifts me onto the machinery so I'm straddling him. He immediately discovers the holes in the bust of the undergarment with his tongue. I slip my fingers between the suspenders holding up his pants and yank at them.

8:15 p.m. Firefighter removes his helmet and lays me back against the leather seat. Sex on a motorcycle is hot, but sex on a bike with a fireman, well, now you're talking.

DAY FOUR

6:30 a.m. Firefighter readies for a 24-hour shift. I feed Munchkin breakfast. There's a feel-good vibe in the air.

7 a.m. As Munchkin plays with blocks, I sit at the table sipping coffee, images of last night replaying in my mind. And to think it all started with a simple alcohol-induced confession about being horny.

10:35 a.m. After showering, I snap a picture of myself in the candy G-string and send it via text to Firefighter.

DAY FIVE

10 a.m. Firefighter isn't home from work yet, and when he gets back, it'll be only a few hours before he returns for another fifteen-hour shift.

10:30 a.m. After kissing me hello, Firefighter sneaks a squeeze of my butt when Munchkin isn't looking.

11 a.m. Firefighter falls asleep on the couch. I put Munchkin in for a nap and head to bed, too. It's gray outside, a perfect day for lounging in sweatpants.

9 p.m. I'm fired up! Jarhead is on television. I replay the scene where Jake Gyllenhaal bangs his girlfriend against the wall until I practically squirt on the remote control.

DAY SIX

10:15 a.m. Firefighter is off tonight and we're going on a date. The last time we did this was for his birthday back in September, so I'm pretty stoked about it.

2:30 p.m. Munchkin is busy playing with Grandma and Grandpa. We tiptoe out the back door and sprint to the car. Once Munchkin was born, we traded date nights for date days. Life is much easier this way.

2:45 p.m. We arrive at La Bella restaurant, where Firefighter and I had our first dinner together back in 2008. It's become our place of choice for anniversaries and other occasions when eating good Italian food is on the to-do list.

2:50 p.m. What's great about date days are the lunch specials. Oh, and the pre-happy-hour drink prices! I order a glass of Chianti and the chicken parmesan.

4 p.m. After the meal, we head to a coffee shop for dessert. We've vowed not to talk about bills and babies on dates, but sometimes it creeps into conversations anyway. Firefighter compliments my work as a stay-at-home mom and says that my former profession as a teacher is showing. At a year-and-a-half-old, Munchkin can recite most of the alphabet and counts to five. The flattery turns me on.  

4:30 p.m. We're making out like teenagers in the car. I'm yearning for it to go further, but the parking lot is bustling with people. Firefighter revs the engine and we leave.

4:33 p.m. On the road, I instruct him to keep driving as I discreetly unzip his jeans and rest my hand on him.

4:37 p.m. We can't keep this up for long, even on a not busy road. Firefighter pulls over to the side of a deserted road. I give him head until he comes two minutes later. I resume my position in the passenger seat, swipe my mouth with a tissue, and pop in a Listerine strip, happy I could be of service to my husband; there's nothing I wouldn't do for this man.        

DAY SEVEN

6:30 a.m. Munchkin and I wave good-bye to Firefighter from the window as he leaves for a day shift.

9:45 a.m. After grocery shopping, Munchkin and I bake cookies and draw pictures for our Firefighter using crayons. I turn some of Munchkin's scribbles into a family of three stick figures and then add in a fourth member. Firefighter and I were recently expecting another child, but I miscarried. I stare down at the drawing, briefly remembering the ordeal, when Munchkin hands me a red crayon and lets out a giggle. I'm so in love with this little being, it hurts. I want Munchkin to have a sibling. I draw a heart on the paper for Munchkin and then retreat to the bathroom to cry in private, but when I enter I remember the whipped cream fun with Firefighter and let out a chuckle. The best part about getting pregnant is definitely the trying.   

TOTALS: One wet dream; one hot fireman; one trip to the lingerie store; one stale pair of edible underwear; two acts of intercourse; two acts of fellatio given; one act of cunnilingus received; two acts of foreplay; one act of masturbation; one naughty picture text sent.

And they lived fearlessly ever after…

So then, what is it about this 23 year-old girl who raised the conscience of India on December 16, 2012?

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Was it the barbaric way in which she met her end?

Was she the last straw that broke the back of an overladen camel?

Was it her young age, her thwarted ambitions and aspirations, or her
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Was it her last wish, to be able to survive and make it out of her nightmarish ordeal?

All the above perhaps, and maybe just something more.

She did not step out with her friend that night on a mission to alter the conscience of her country. She had no intentions to lift the blinders off the eyes of a male-dominated society either. She was clearly not out to get the media to christen her with a fancy new name. And it perhaps did not matter one bit to her or her family if she were labeled a brave-heart or not, while she struggled to survive at the hospitals.

Look again, look beneath all those glossy labels that were bestowed upon her and you will find just another young girl, with her whole life ahead of her. Someone who was out at the cinemas one weekend and stepped into the wrong bus on her way back home, for which she paid with her life. And yes, it happened in the ugliest possible way right around dinnertime in the capital of our country.

Over a decade ago, my college curriculum included a documentary titled ‘Memories of Fear’, a film by Madhushree Dutta. I still remember how sensitively and accurately it captured the fears a girl grows up with in her journey to womanhood and beyond.

What was called fear in my mother’s days became awareness for the world at large with the passage of time. The truth is that the vacuum that builds up in a girl’s stomach as she quickens her pace through a desolate road, looking back every other minute to ensure there is no other shadow lurking behind her, is nothing but fear.

Fear is the single common heirloom, that as girls in India, we all inherit from our mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters and friends. Fear for self-preservation, and of men who can do things to hurt and shame us. We learn to weave this fear seamlessly into our lives and never even realize when it becomes second nature. This perpetual fear eats into a woman’s carefree spirit and keeps her on guard at all times.

A friendly pat from an uncle on the bottom, or a male colleague’s claims of great working chemistry are both met with suspicion, followed by the cold shoulder. While we can turn a deaf ear to despicable remarks about certain parts of our body from a group of rogue teens, it takes longer to deal with the trauma of being groped on a crowded bus.

We figure ways of avoiding a run-in with the neighbourhood lech, and develop at least three different tactics of accepting coins from shopkeepers without having our palms unnecessarily felt. Even on a student budget, we willingly pay a premium for balcony seats at the cinema to avoid the flashers in the front stalls. As a general rule, we prefer the safety of aisle seats both in air and on ground. We have heard about hidden recording devices and two-way mirrors in changing rooms, and are alert even before we take off our stoles. We prefer to avoid places, situations and people who make us uncomfortable or give us the creeps. Many friendships do get affected, and sometimes, even years of trust come under scrutiny too. Personal freedom and professional progress are rarely unfettered for a woman.

Between growing up to be a lady and becoming independent in a society that is full of frustrated and perverted men on the prowl, it should not come as a surprise that girls grow up faster. Do we even have a choice?

As protests continue across the nation for this young girl who has lost her life most tragically, everybody seems to have their own views on what needs to be changed, who needs to be blamed or how the offenders should be dealt with. I do pray and wish that these protests and vigils bring about some meaningful change for all of us. But I also think it is time to dig a little deeper.

Decades past our independence, on the brink of a day when a jolly ride into space is no longer just a dream, it is a shame that in the world’s largest democracy, a woman cannot be guaranteed a life free from the fear of being manhandled, attacked, abused, shamed, ridiculed or victimized in any form simply because she is physically weaker. Long before we encourage our sons to be MBA’s, consultants, doctors, engineers or scientists, we need to teach them to first be humane.

They say that she was out to watch Life of Pi that fateful night.

Ironically, a movie that is a story of survival against all odds by relying on faith. She did not make it after a fortnight, but perhaps in her fight for survival lies a cue for all of us, to have the faith that we can indeed bring about change if we continue to make ourselves heard.

I am not giving up hope yet.

Someday, I hope little girls in my country will be living in a time when they can relate to fairytales again.

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There is a range of adult novelty stores online where you can visit and choose from the sex toys that catch your fancy. You can buy from the ever inventive sex toys like dildos, vibrators, handcuffs, sex game dice, bondage gear, sex swings, personal lube, cock rings, edible underwear and much more. The only limit when it comes to sex toys; is your imagination. If you can think it, there is a very good chance that something close to the product in your mind is available online. Buying from adult online store is much easier, safer and also economical. The adult stores don have to pay any expenses that brick and mortar stores often incur, and this is the reason why the products at online stores are often discounted. You can even look for bulk deals when buying sex toys so that you can get a discounted price for your order. 

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German Porn Law in Practice & Bombs

It's been a rather long time since I last wrote in my blog, but to be perfectly honest, nothing extraordinary has happened. Christmas was fun because Tracie came to visit and we celebrated with Christian and his family. We mainly kept busy doing tourist stuff, drinking Glühwein, and visiting Christmas markets. It was a good Christmas. Then I spent another New Year's in Berlin with Christian and friends Timm and Patricia, which of course, was a blast.

In January, I was in Dresden for a week for my program's mid-year seminar. There were 24 other people there and it was really great seeing some familiar faces again. Dresden is a beautiful city and we were also in Leipzig for a day, where I would've liked to spend more time, but that will be for the future.


Two weeks after I was in Dresden, I went with David and Paige (two friends not in K?ln, but they were for the language course phase) to Valmeinier, France, to go snowboarding for a week. It was my first time outside of Germany since arriving in August, and it made for a very relaxing, fun trip. We had some really good powder because one day it snowed a bit and the visibility was really poor. However, the next day, one mountain was fantastic with really wide, long runs. I also finally realized riding a board the right size for me is a lot less strenuous (I mean, this is a huge "duh," I know, but I like my board at home) and therefore, I will have to get a new board for next year. For the week, I think I spent less than 650€, all expenses included, even the fondue (the best fondue I've had in my life) and raclette that we had.

To make a long story short, fast forward to now. Last week, the final phase of our internship started. I had to start work on Monday, even though it was Rosenmontag, the biggest day for Karneval. If you don't know why this is significant, let's just put it this way: K?ln is THE city to celebrate Karneval (Mardi Gras over a few days) and when I told people I had to work Rosenmontag, they all asked, "Spinnst du??" (Are you crazy??) For a better description of Karneval, read my blog entry from two years ago in Düsseldorf.

The company I work for is Clipfish, a German competitor of YouTube and subsidiary of RTL, the biggest TV, radio, and production company in Europe. Unfortunately, you can't access the website if you're living in the U.S., so you can't see the stuff that I deal with. The reason for it is that there is a "Sexy Videos" category that would be considered pornographic at home and I guess it's easier to just block the entire site, rather than having to make sure everyone consents to the content.

This actually brings me to an interesting point about my internship. One task I have to do is read through complaints, whether they have to do with copyrighted material, videos that might be considered "too brutal," videos that are "damaging" to your person, videos that are considered "immoral" or "pornographic" by some users, etc. I have to sit and watch the videos that people complained about, deciding whether or not they should be taken down or not. The pornography complaints are interesting because of the fact that most of the "Sexy Videos" offend my American sensibilities and I would just automatically write them off as pornographic in the U.S. However, because I am in Germany, I usually ask the other intern if they're a little more extreme and always attach "Sorry to ask you again, but as an American, this is porn, but what do you think?"

Now, if you know me personally, you know that the main topic of my senior thesis was comparing pornography law between (the former) West Germany and the U.S. during the Sexual Revolution. You would think that this would help me with my job sifting through the videos. Yes, it does, but putting pornography law into practice on the internet is much different than with film and printed material today. Additionally, the fact that I grew up in a society where pornography is easy to spot makes it difficult to say if something here is or isn't (basically, boobs are a good indication and anything below the belt is definitely porn) . For example, German pornography law states that if a sexual organ is portrayed in a way that emphasizes intercourse (whether it is actual sex or masturbation), then it is pornographic. However, the important thing to know is that you can see a vagina or a penis on television if it's in a documentary, even if it is a documentary on sex drive, masturbation, or having kids. For me, the area that gets really gray is when there are videos that have a girl stripping down naked and shows her crotch, but it's not a close up or anything. As I already said, that's definitely porn in the U.S., but here, it's pretty difficult to say yes or no, and that's when I ask the other intern. (The picture I posted is a screenshot of the "Sexy Videos" page I made for those of you who can't access Clipfish from the U.S. It'll give you a vague idea of what I am talking about and it's probably NSFW if you click on it to make it bigger. I made sure to make it small enough if you're reading this page that you don't get in trouble.)

On a completely different note, I had an interesting experience on Friday when the building had to be evacuated. The reason? "Bombenentsch?rfung," or in English, a bomb needed to be defused. Have no fear, it wasn't a terrorist looking to blow up RTL's offices. Instead, construction workers nearby found a bomb from World War II not too far away from the offices that had never exploded during the war and therefore, needed it to be defused because it could theoretically still explode even though it's more than 60 years old. I thought it was a completely crazy idea, but apparently this happens now and then throughout Germany and for Germans, it's nothing new. In fact, it was just a pain in the ass, a disturbance to the normal work day. We had to stand outside the building for about 2 hours (the other interns and I sat around talking and played word games) and then were allowed back in.

All in all, an interesting first week...

5 Most Common Kissing Mistakes

Kissing tips aren’t rocket science but you’d be surprised at how many guys mess it up! Girls are always talking about how bad guys are at it and wishing they could give them kissing tips. Are you making these fatal kissing mistakes?
1. Bad Breath

It just really ruins both your game and the mood. Knights in shining armor don’t have halitosis – they smell minty. You may be no knight, but that does not give your mouth license to smell like sewer. Bad breath is a major turn-off and a deal breaker, she’ll kick you back to the Middle Ages.

The easiest, fastest way to mask smell is thru mouth wash, mouth spray or mints. But if you’ve got rotting teeth inside, who would want to suck on that? So march up to your dentist and have it fixed. Yes, it will probably hurt, so get over it.
Drink plenty of water and stay away from stuff like onions, cigarettes and alcohol when you know you’ll be making out. (Brushing 4 hours prior is useless.)
2. Immediately Slipping Her The Tongue

There’s time for that. Play the whole game and begin with lip-on-lip action without the tongue. Relax your lips, and don’t push on hers like you’re grating them back to her teeth. Get busy with her luscious reds first, both the upper and lower sets. Make use of head and neck motions to slide lips past each other.

When you do slip her Mr. Tongue, don’t give it all away. Reveal him bit by bit. And when you’re already frenching away, draw him back every once in a while and make her chase you. Pull back and tease!
3. Ramming Your Tongue Down Her Throat

That is not cool. Passionate kissing is good, but thrusting too deep is highly invasive, you’ll make her gag. (When that happens, kissing’s over.) If she badly wants your tongue, she’ll be sucking and swallowing it down herself, so don’t force feed her. Keep focus on the first 1-1.5 inches of her tongue.
4. Thinking That Kissing Only Happens During Foreplay

Don’t leave all the kissing (and caressing) outside the bedroom door during foreplay. If anything, you need to hand-out more of those during sex, throughout the sack session. A woman will always want to be kissed, and everytime she recounts a wonderful encounter, it always involved a lot of mouth action.
5. Thinking That Kissing Only Involves Mouth To Mouth Action

This is rarely so. Around 80% of the time, the lips are not the target of a kiss. You can kiss virtually anywhere there’s skin. Neck, shoulders, back. Take advantage of your lip’s & tongue’s softness and make her body quake.