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Caution: Experts Only!

5 minutes reading time

Before ski season was over, My husband and I decided to fly to Vail for a long weekend. We wanted a trip for just us. We adore traveling with our friends and kiddo, but we wanted to celebrate being empty nesters and and enjoying life without responsibilities... No schedule, no agenda. Besides the ski lessons and tickets, every decision was spontaneous. And yes, we desperately needed a skiing tuneup - our last ski adventure was 20 years ago!   

DISCLAIMER: Before you continue indulging in my memoir, if you are prude or uptight, then stop reading this; go back to cleaning your house while tending to your crying Ivy League prodigies. Actually, just don't read any of my blogs because you will not like them, or worse, you will. But for those of you who read my blogs on the regular, call me, because we should be friends. 

Immediately after checking into our spacious one-bedroom villa at the Westin Riverfront Resort, we went to the lobby. The mood was set: live acoustic music, a roaring fireplace, and red wine. Instead of hustling off to a restaurant, we decided to soak it in with some fireside reading. My book of choice was my latest favorite romance novel "Three Dirty Secrets" by Nikki Sloane). So cozy, so relaxing… I couldn't help but think to myself, "Damn, this is how to be an empty nester!!" I should have realized this was WAY too tame for our average vacation.

Day 1: Ski lesson. We jumped right in at level two. My husband and I are an extremely competitive couple so if we are in a group setting, we have to beat everyone else. Sad? Perhaps, but who are we kidding? We fucking love it. Within a few minutes, I was already confident, whizzing down the hills and leaving the rest of the group in my powder. We skied so well the instructor let us leave the class and venture down the last slope on our own. I'm not going to lie; I was shaking in my snow boots when the instructor (aka my snowy safety blanket) released us. We went out on our own and WOW. We got lost a few times, but we didn't die. Hell, we didn't even fall. Well I didn't fall, but we won't talk about that (I TOLD you I'm competitive, ha!).


Day 2: We spent the whole day on the slopes by ourselves. It was stunning. No breeze shook the trees and the sun glistened off the fresh snow which fell the night before. Again, I thought to myself, "Damn, we're doing this empty nester thing right!". 

Day 2 continued...  Before we left Nashville, I had stopped at the local Hustler store and bought a few fun gadgets for our trip. (If you haven't read my first vibrating panties story, click here.) The time was right to reveal to my husband one of these little gadgets, vibrating panties. He was so eager and was chomping at the bit for me to put the panties on under my ski suit. Oh I know what you're thinking, you don't have to say it. We were about to learn the lesson ourselves. Vibrating panties and skiing don't mix...

We were ready to hit the slopes again. We had a straightforward plan that seemed easy enough: stick to the green slopes only. We started down the rolling slopes and everything was going nicely. Then that motherfucker behind me (who I love and adore, but in that moment, yes, he was a motherfucker) turned on the remote. Ummmmm, I can't do anything about it because I have both hands on ski poles, five layers of clothing between me and the offending panties and OH YEAH, I'm hurtling down a mountain trying not to die. And as it turns out, when you're intently focused on not dying and you are having mini orgasms, what you're not doing is READING.

The slopes started getting deeper and more intense. I kept thinking, "Shit this is steep. This really doesn't feel like the green slopes." Adam was nowhere to be seen, but I knew he couldn't be too far away because he was still controlling the remote. Another big drop came and holy crap it was steep. My heart was pounding, my clit was throbbing, and I couldn't slow down. At this point, I was pretty sure I had broken all of the mountain's speed records and I was freaking out so much I could barely breathe.

The good news - my legs were no longer shaking because of what was going on between my legs. Another drop ahead. Now I knew I was going to die. I started reciting every prayer and saying my goodbyes. I looked up and saw little bastard waving his hands like a mad man and screaming at me. "You're on the Black Diamond, YOU'RE ON THE BLACK DIAMOND!!!!!" I'll never know how the hell I got on the black diamond. At least it explained my near-death journey.

He guided me to the blue slopes so we could finish slaloming down the mountain together. He was cracking up - he couldn't believe I didn't see the massive signs in the middle of the slopes that said "DO NOT ENTER, FOR EXPERTS ONLY". So taking one ski lesson doesn't qualify me as an expert? No? He said he was screaming my name the whole time and he was sure I was going to die. Having a man show his love for you while you are plummeting to a sexy-gone-wrong death is a warm, fuzzy feeling, ladies.

In honor of my death-defying stunt, we nicknamed our vibrating panties The Black Diamond. While our other vibrating panties experiences have been thrilling, none of our other escapades have lived up to their namesake.

Ready for your own vibrating panties adventure? Run on over to HUSTLER in Nashville and receive 20% off  by mentioning "MOMENTS BY T" or for you ladies who aren't in the Nashville area go to Adameve.com USE COUPON CODE: MOMENTS for 50% off one item at. Enjoy, and feel free to share your vibrating panties experience in the comments below!

 
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