Her index finger vigorously tapped the escape key, grunts and sighs of disappointment passed her lips as she stared deep into the infamous blue error screen. “Ugh!”

Like a snake his arms wrapped around her waist, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he peered down at the monitor, “Looks like you need to upgrade your RAM, Love.” He smirked before giving her another soft kiss on the neck, completely disarming her.

She grabbed his hands and held them for a moment, her back arching slightly into him so her face is even with his. “Can you fix it?” She asked sweetly.

“Perhaps, Love.” He muttered as he felt her hands slightly inching his towards her breasts involuntarily. He let out a murmur as he pulled his hands free from hers, caressing her stomach up to her breasts which were tightly encased in a red lace bra under her pink tank top. She let out a soft sigh, pushing her ass into his crotch slightly.

She smiled to herself when she felt the growing bulge in his jeans as his hips met hers. His breathing began to quicken and strain with anticipation. His hands trembled slightly as he massaged her breasts, then allowing them to slide down, catching the hem of her shirt and playfully caressing her bare stomach beneath.

After a few moments, she turned slowly to face him, he pulled her into a kiss and began to massage her sides, his hands fumbling at the hem of her tank top as he began to lift it. She continued, playfully biting his lower lip softly to hasten the mood. After pulling off her tank top, she in turn tugged off his shirt and began to undo his pants. His kisses trailed down to her chest, releasing the hook in her bra and hungrily licking at her bare nipples. Nibbling at her breasts, he continued down, throwing the bra aside and stopping right at her skirt. She let his pants drop to the floor, his manhood stood at attention, popping out of his plaid cotton boxers. Her hands couldn’t help but caress it, softly. He smiled and crouched, looking up at her as his hands slipped under and began to stroke her inner thigh.

“Oh..” She moaned as he continued, intermittently kissing her stomach. His hands explored upwards to her panties, his finger hooking the elastic, brushing softly against her clit. His hand pushed up her skirt as he helped her out of her panties, and stood up to meet her kiss. She wrapped a leg around him, pulling him between her thighs. His cock softly nestled close to her clit, making her pussy throb from the sheer proximity. She leaned back slightly and scooted herself closer, allowing the tip to meet her lips. He smiled, pulling away slightly as he grabbed his cock and began to teasingly caress her with it.

After a moment he let it slide in, just the tip, but this not being enough, she quickly grabbed his hips and pulled him into her, the shock and pleasure caused him to let out a grunt as his hands gravitated to her sides pulling away, then pushing himself into her with force.

“Oh Fuck!” She screamed as he began thrusting into her, pushing deep inside. His lips trailing down to her shoulder, kissing and biting up to her neck, his grunts stifled by the kisses. She continued to whimper and moan as his thrusts quickened. His cock going deep, massaging her g-spot on its way out, sending chills throughout her body.

His pace continued until her legs began to quiver, he kept going faster until her orgasm squeezed him into submission. He pushed deeply one last time, cumming, letting her muscles massage his cock as he kissed her cheek.

Catching her breath, she smiled, kissing the sweat from his brow. In a happy daze, she looked behind her, forgetting about the computer completely. “Wait, what were we talking about?” She giggled to herself.

Forever. Together Forever. Best Friends Forever. The concept of being with someone or loving someone forever. Essentially having an unconditional attachment to one person, or possibly a multitude of people if that’s what you’re dealing with. It’s promised to us at a young age in the guise of true love, something that many believe only exists in fairy tales. And why shouldn’t they? The world isn’t made up of sunshine and puppies every day of our lives. True love, and other assumptions aren’t stumbled upon or easily maintained. I guess with that comment, I’m showing my hand a bit. Yes, I am one of those women who believes in true love, but it ends right about there. The ignorant or child-like sensibilities, which are perceived when some people hear the concept of true love are easily mistaken, but that is a whole other tangent. I’m talking about the concept and vocalization of “forever”.

I’m sure you’ve probably said it once in your life, even if for something small like, “I’ll love this band forever.” Or maybe.. “I’ll like fried mushrooms forever.” It’s thrown around a lot, which isn’t terrible, but I’ve become very skittish of using what I consider the “f-word”. This might be a completely localized phenomenon, and possibly my own subconscious sabotaging my future, or another paranoid observation, but I think it might affect more than myself.

First of all, is the concept and declaration of forever a last ditch effort to justify a good feeling? A friendship or relationship that isn’t easy, but you have a “good feeling” about it. Or is it your own way of being swept up into the moment. It is a pretty serious comment for anyone to make, I mean you only live possibly at best 100 years, and that isn’t really forever. In itself, forever is possibly stronger than the declaration of love if you intended, or were able to keep your word. With some boyfriend, I’ve had this feeling of “forever”, even with disagreements and arguments it persisted. Until it fell apart. Truth is, we might have been different, or I could have been looking at it with my “new boyfriend goggles” on.

Many novels I’ve read, even the general formula for certain novels with a heavy romantic theme, have this clandestine fall out when someone claims “forever”. Generally, if you let forever actually happen there is no conflict and the novel is boring. A constant questioning of the outcome, and if they will make it to “happily ever after”, is saved until the very end, but always ended with a question mark. If you let the guy get the girl, where is the fun in that? Maybe it’s similar with life. We can’t assume the end, or write it ourselves, so maybe that’s why whenever I declare in private or public that I will love someone forever it all falls apart.

What makes the happy ending plausible? A wise woman who recently appeared on a reality tv show, go figure, commented that the key to a happy relationship or marriage, whichever you choose, is as follows. Mutual trust, mutual respect, shared interests, and shared values. When all the gloss has been worn down, I agree with my constant observations with successful relationships of the past. She might have something there.

So what is it? Is saying something is forever a curse? Are you just getting the best of yourself by saying it, lying to yourself? Or does the idea in itself make the universe cringe to the point of occasionally intervening? I’m not completely sure, but I know, currently being rather in love, I’m not going to say it anytime soon. It could be my own created issue, but I’m just trying to cover all bases. I do, on the other hand, think the recipe we have concocted with trust, respect, the shared interest and values is probably a pretty good thing. It’s something I have missed, if not just in pieces, with the men before, and maybe I don’t need to hope or proclaim forever for it to possibly happen. Maybe that’s true love.

It has become fairly common in recent years for “kids” to remain living at home with their parents while they attend college or those first few months while working a new job. I know a handful of people who are still living at home at the age of 27. I, myself, am 26 years old and currently living with my family while I get my Associates.

Living under one roof can be tricky if you have something to hide, for instance, if you have a couple items you don’t exactly want the prying eyes of your parents or siblings to see. Maybe you have a few porn DVDs or a dildo or masturbation sleeve for those cold lonely nights. Even if you don’t own any of the aforementioned products but wish to, and you’re baffled on how to explain, procure or hide them. Fear not! I’ll be explaining tips straight from the fabulous Eden Community, on their own tips for living at home and having fun while doing so.

So, you have found Edenfantasys. Great job! Now, assuming you are over 18, and you have a valid credit card in your name, or a gift card or accumulated points from activity, you’re ready to buy yourself a new toy. Wait a second. Mom (or Dad) watches the mail like a hawk. What can I do?

This first is simple. I call it the “50 Meter Mailbox Dash”. Of course, the distance is exaggerated, but it stays the same. Plan your order for a day when your parent’s won’t be home, or just beat them to the punch. Go out and get the mail yourself and skillfully sneak that package inside.

Second strategy I have deemed, “Phone a Friend”, and rightfully so. If you have a close and personal friend who lives alone, ask if you can have them sent there. Just go over for your regular visit and pick up your package, find a way to hide it and take it home.

What about those who have already ordered and need a place to “stash” their goods? Ah, this is especially tricky, but not impossible. There are a number of approaches to go with on this one.

How about, “Hidden in Plain Sight”? Keep your stash in a plain old storage box out in the open, as long as your room doesn’t get much traffic, then you should be fine. If you’re extra nervous about this idea, keep the box in your closet or under your bed.

Let’s not forget the classic, hide your toys, if there aren’t that many, in your undie drawer. Unless your parents do your laundry, especially your delicates, which honestly sounds a bit odd and uncomfortable in its own right, you should be safe. Keep it buried under all your unmentionables, the last thing anyone would like to be doing is rummaging around in someone’s underwear drawer.

For added protection and extra snoopy parents, you should think about investing in a locking storage container, my favorite style, and one I will be purchasing in the very near future, is the aluminum case. It seems very James Bond and secret agent-like. You can also make a DIY storage case by buying yourself a wooden box and attaching your own lock. Voila! Safe and sound. Those of the more crafty toy and porn aficionados would probably feel inclined to paint the box, but I suggest you re-think that flying dildo mural you have floating around in your head.

What about those who are active in the Eden Community and plan to review toys, or already do so, on a regular basis. Should we break the news to our rents before they find out what we’ve done? This is the million dollar question. Do you want to tell your parents? Are they cool enough to allow you to continue?

I’d proceed with caution, no one knows your parents but you. Even if they freak out, you are your own person and not exactly a child anymore. From there, it’s up to you and hopefully everything turns out alright. My own personal experience is a rather bad one, which is why I am writing this article. I felt a large amount of guilt for sneaking around. Being the awesome daughter I am, I confessed, and my parents freaked out. This isn’t exactly the standard response, I’m sure, but it might be a popular one with those who aren’t so keen with the subculture.

When it comes down to it, masturbation is normal. Everyone does it, and it is an AMAZING part of life. If you don’t know what makes you “happy”, how can you expect anyone else to take the time to find it?

Those in my similar position, guilt ridden or nervous, chin up! Life is what you make of it, and if this is what you want in your life, go for it! I know writing for this community is probably one of the best things that I have done in a long time, and I wish to keep it up. Even if it might not be in the form of reviews, I could make a stand here.

Well there you have it, a quick and super sneaky guide to toys. For any more ideas or questions be sure to check out the community on Edenfantasys.

When I was younger, and I assure you that I say that with a sense of irony because my younger days aren’t that far in the past, I remember when things weren’t so black and white in our culture, when beauty wasn’t about being shockingly thin and having numerous plastic surgeries to achieve their ideal of perfection.

I do assume that I was more idealistic, but then my world changed. I was just getting into middle school surrounded with petite young ladies much thinner than myself. I remember a conversation in the cafeteria where a younger boy looked at me and commented on me being fat. I hadn’t realized this, or even thought of myself in this manner. I’d hear the girls in the locker room calling out their sizes and swapping their jeans. “Oh I’m a size 0.” With a child-like naivety I’d respond, “My jeans are a size 6.” Silence. I was only 11 years old.

Years passed and I grew into my own, but my wide hips and large 5’5 frame made me feel like I wasn’t the equal of those around me. My best friends weren’t much thinner or taller than me, but still I felt I paled in comparison. By the age of 16, I was on anti-depressants which morphed my metabolism and my size into a shameful (in my eyes) size 20.

I’d rocket from sizes 20 to size 12 to size 15 in different seasons and years, but as I grew older and wiser I came to appreciate my body more and more. Be it out of pure stubbornness to admit that I am in any way malformed or a lesser human being even though bombarded with imagery and commercials which beg to differ, or the constant support and strength of my family. I’ve gotten stronger and happier, but there are times where I still come across many people who look upon me badly, but I take much pride in my figure. Marilyn Monroe was a size 16, you know? She also had a similar hourglass figure.

Still looking for a man who can appreciate my hips, but I don’t wish to hide them or change them for anyone. I might not be the ideal for most men looking to bed Kate Moss or Heidi Klum, but I’m much more than a size, much more than my weight, and much more than they can handle.

In writing this article, I hope to encourage and reach out to women with my similar struggles and fears, and letting them know that it’s ok. Everyone has those things they don’t like about themselves, I, myself, used to equate being thin with being happy, but I realize that it’s not something I should stress to achieve and beat myself up when it doesn’t happen overnight. I feel that I am healthy at my size 14, and happy. I wouldn’t trade these hips, that I swore against many years before, for anything in the world. In the years to come, they will do their part to cradle a life then carry it into this world.

Be proud of your body, the way that it is. There isn’t another one like it and it is indeed special.