We went back on Route 50 East and exited to Thompson Springs. I felt excitement pounding in my chest. Jay had been telling me about this place for a long time.

He and his college buddy found Sego Canyons over 20 years ago. He told me they had to drive off the road through a dry river bed to get to the canyon walls made sacred by Native American paintings. Any sign of rain is time to get the hell out of there.

We weren’t quite sure where to begin. There were no giant signs for tourists. We stopped next to a railroad worker and asked him. He didn’t know anything about the Native American Petroglyphs, but he share his detailed utility map of the area with us. It was enough to get us started toward the right path.

An abandoned hundred year old one-room schoolhouse had a sign that pointed to the petroglyphs 2 1/2 miles ahead. There is now a paved road toward the canyons, a straight path rising with the hills and dipping low on the winding river bend that was just a stream on this clear sunny noontime in July.

We saw the Fremont style of petroglyphs, the kind that is etched into the rock wall. They were high up and quite a distance from our car. Since we were traveling with our 4-year-old, we stayed close to the car and I photographed with my Nikon using a zoom lens. Experts estimate they were created between 2000 to 8000 years ago.

There were also the Barrier style of petroglyphs, the kind that is painted with a red substance, which could be iron oxide from the iron-rich soil in Utah. Although, given the content of the paintings which seem to be depictions of their ancestors, mummified or not, the red substance could be blood. No one is sure. The Barrier style is not as old as the Fremont style. The paintings are more developed, perfectly symmetrical, drawn by a master, perhaps the tribe’s shaman.

I find these Native petroglyphs so mysterious and so engaging. The images inspire science fiction fantasies of aliens appearing to the Natives thousands of years ago and helping them develop civilization, language, art and early technology. More than likely, though, these are paintings of the tribe elders who have died, the horns and antennae depicting their elaborate headdress when they were alive, or the way their bodies were wrapped artfully in mummy bundles. I imagine the tribe sitting by the fire looking up at the flickering images of their ancestors, immortal on the canyon walls.

We drove further to see more, but started getting spooked by the ghost town, buildings from the 1890s when there was coal mining going on in these parts. I also started to feel very vulnerable. My phone had no signal whatsoever. The canyon walls felt increasingly claustrophobic. Two other vehicles passed us, both SUVs. I suddenly felt like our 10 year old not-SUV was not fit for the terrain. So we turned around and headed back out of the canyons.

On our way out we found another painted canyon, and the paintings were lower to the ground than the ones we had previously seen. We stayed another hour looking at the paintings up close. I spotted graffiti dated 1881, 1947 and 1957, among others. Bullet holes dot some of the images – cavalry practice-shooting at the Indians or Christian zealots shooting at the devil or both.

There are a million stories in these canyons and my head filled with them. When we finally got back on Route 50, we realized our 5 gallon jug of water had pressure popped and leaked water all over our bags in the back. Tempers flared in the Utah desert. Even my car’s tires emanated the burning smell of rubber.

I drove furiously through the breathtaking desert mountains of Utah and doused my temper in the greener mountains of Colorado. While driving the winding White Water Mountain road, I slipped my hand into Jay’s shorts, “I’m hungry. I wish I had something to suck.” He laughed and handed me a juicy pear. We shared it while I drove.

We stopped at Eagle, Colorado close to dusk. The sun had dried most of our stuff, and the remaining wet things we laid on the dashboard for the next day’s morning rays. We found a really nice grocery supermarket near the Holiday Inn and bought organic fruit and groceries. We all felt at home. It was the closest to California we’ve felt since we left.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #170? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Clothespin Communion
“Surrender to the sensation.”
Remembering the Pain
“And it really was that bad.”
Short And Sweet
“Why don’t you turn over”
Sugasm Editor
Fetish Fridays: Financial Submission
Editor’s Choice
Belonging

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Absence
Evey Can Haz?
The Ghost of Sex Toys Past (Part One of Three)
“Boy, Girl, or In-between?” Princess Frida’s Fabulous Talk, and My Thoughts
“Work” Confession #297
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Busty beauty Jenny McClain
Flash Spanking Videos
Leighton Meester Sex Tape
Pearls
Thrashed on their bared buttocks
Waiting for Tonight
Sex Humor
Fat Sex and Why It’s Good
BDSM & Fetish
Don’t Have Mercy on Me, Baby
Formalities, and, on second thought, greetings
The Going Away Present
He gave them pain like balm, and they begged him for it
High School Bully Part 3
Home Alone?
Mollena Williams added to 100 Divas
A Night In Bondage
Under instruction
The war of the sexes
Sex Poetry
At the movies….
News, Reviews & Interviews
The Independent lists “the ten best sex toys.” I fly into a rage.
Take Me Out to the Sapphic Sex Romp
Vibratex Pandora
The Wily Old Crocodile: An Interview with Eosuchus
Sex Advice
Anal Sex for Beginners
New At Sex Is Magazine: Foods That Enhance Your Sex Drive
Q&A with Dr.Ruthie – Asking for Better Sex
Starting At The Bottom: An Intro to Anal Play, Part 2
Erotic Writing & Experiences
Amber gives me a blowjob..in person!
From Behind
Its Morning…(The Last Time)
Just fucking.
A Matter of Taste
May i feel said he
New Man at the Lesbos Palace
The Problem with Thongs
The Raise
Randy: the new big cock
Stranger Fuck & Plough
Whore, Adulteress, Sinner
You can leave your hat on

My eyes filled with tears but I blinked them away. I kissed him slowly, felt the warmth of his lips, his breath against my face. This is my man. My baby’s daddy.

We packed up and got ready to go back on the road.

We gassed up at Friendly Fuels just before leaving Ely, Nevada. The owner gave us full service – pumped, cleaned our windows, and suggested we visit Lehman Caves in The Great Basin up ahead of us on Route 50. We rolled on and took his advice.

On our way we passed Horns A Plenty, this place that makes art and furniture out of antlers. They were closed, but we enjoyed looking at their gate.

We exited Route 50 to go to Lehman Caves. It was cold in there, about 50 degrees F. At some point our guide lit a candle and turned off his flashlight and the built-in bulb fixtures in the cave, just to show us what it would have been like for those exploring the cave before electricity was wired in. The darkness went forever. The cave seemed larger than it is when the lights were turned back on. It made me wish we were exploring the cave by candlelight.

I’ve been spelunking before, but I’ve never seen a cave as rich as this in stalactites, stalagmites, columns, shields, draperies and colorful “bacon.”

There was a big hall in Lehman Caves that was the site of a speakeasy back during the Prohibition days. It is the perfect temperature to store liquor! Back then the convenient entrance we came in through was not yet built. They would have had to climb in through the natural entrance to the cave, which was from above, with a 25 foot drop into the cave. These are dedicated party people!!! I imagined the band, carefully bringing their instruments down with ropes, and setting up in this great space. Then later on, people coming down on ropes, dressed in their 1930s finery, excited by the naughtiness of coming out to the caves for drink, dance and decadence.

If I was a cavewoman, I would hook up with the strongest caveman in town and get him to secure this cave as our home. We’d be the most stylish cave couple in the world.

We went back on the road from Lehman Caves and got lost. I thought I was finding my way back to Route 50 until we reached the border that divides Nevada and Utah. Where the hell were we? I backed into a shoulder to look at the map and instead saw an antelope.

“Elk!” I pointed outside Jay’s window.

Jay whipped out his video camera, “That’s an antelope.”

The antelope seemed just as curious about us as we were about him. He was a good 20 feet away from us, just standing there staring. He probably got bored quickly since we didn’t do anything but just sit there, so he bounded away from us deeper into the desert.

We found our way back to Route 50, said goodbye to Nevada and hello to Utah.

The mountains in Utah are very dramatic. Bright red swashes of iron in the rock. They don’t call it Painted Desert for nothing. The mesas are sheer cliffs jutting proudly out to the sky. We stopped at Devil’s Canyon to stretch our legs. It was late in the day. I was tired.

I told Jay we would spend the night at the next town after Devil’s Canyon. It turned out to be one more hour of driving, but what a sight!!! We wound our way around the most dramatic mountains in Utah.

We spent the night in the small town of Green River, Utah. The sky was on fire that night, a sunset just as dramatic as the mountains we saw.

After Jay and our little one got up, we watched a little bit of the parade, then went on our way taking Route 80 across the California state line into Nevada, where we switched to Route 50, the loneliest highway in America.

I drove through salt flats, people’s names spelled out in rocks across the desert, sand mountains, rocky mountains and sage brush for almost 7 hours. We broke it up with some stops. I almost drove right past The Shoe Tree. I saw some people on the side of the road, and it was a few feet before Jay told me about the shoes in the tree. We were the only car on the road, though, so I turned right around and stopped to gawk at this monument to mischief.

We stopped for some ice cream at the old wild west town of Austin. We stopped to get blown away by Native American Petroglyphs. Walking up the trail, Jay warned, “Watch out for rattlesnakes!”

On the road again, a storm brewed in the distance. Rain splattered against my windshield in bursts. Miles ahead a rainbow led us to our destination for the day, the old wild west town of Ely.

Rainbow on Route 50 Nevada

Originally uploaded by maylingsu

I called my dad as soon as we settled into our motel. I wanted to thank him for lending us his GPS. There have been times on the road when I was really glad to have it. All the other times, we just turned the droid off. I still have the memory of the bittersweet smiles my parents had as we pulled away from their house. It gives my heart a little pinch everytime I say goodbye to them, but go I must.

Out in the desert on this lonely highway, I suddenly understood why many before me came out here. This overabundance of nature, this feeling of smallness against the vast expanse, humbles me. I am not worthy of all this beauty, and because I am not worthy of it, I am filled with an overwhelming gratitude for it. I think that somewhat captures how I feel, but not fully. Onward I will try to find clarity.

We had dinner at Hotel Nevada, which felt as wild west as a place can feel in the 21st century. There were taxidermy beasts everywhere – enough stuffed mammals to put a chill in me. In the bathroom, another relic from the past: ashtrays in the bathroom.

The Deserest Motel was no way as nice as Truckee Hotel. The walls are lined with wood paneling and I found cigarette holes on everything from the carpet to the blankets. But it was a place to lay our exhausted bodies for the night before we went on the road again tomorrow.

The past week I have been taking the car back and forth to the shop to prepare for our road trip from California to Maine. I told the mechanic to check everything and make sure our car is in top shape for our cross country trip. It was several trips to the car shop because parts and tires were late coming in, but I still had to do errands so I would walk to the shop to pick up my car, do errands, then drop the car off and walk home.

Maybe I got dust in my eye and now it’s fucking infected. Damnit!!! I look like a freaking freak!!!

I was so close to putting this trip off one more day. Maybe if I slept more my eye would magically de-puff. Alas, we’re all packed and I’ve got a 4 year old jumping all over the place saying, “Are we going yet?” nonstop. So on we went out of the foggy San Francisco Bay Area, eastward bound.

First stop, my parents’ home. Dropped off a few perishables I didn’t want rotting at home, a house plant that needs tending while we’re away, and of course, to give them big hugs and kisses before we went on our way.

After dinner, Jay and I took a deep breath and said goodbye. This was it!!! We were leaving our comfort zone. We headed toward the Sierra Nevada mountains. Husband, child, dog and me.

Just before 10 pm we arrived at Truckee, California. We saw Truckee while we were on the Amtrak train from Sacramento to Reno, and fell in love with this charming little Wild West town. It’s so festive here tonight. We passed beautiful Victorian buildings all lit up for the 4th of July holiday. I hear there is a parade going through town tomorrow. I better go to bed and get some shut eye. Ugh! My eye!!!

Junior Mclean is on RedBubble and ArtWanted.

Robot girlfriends… sex dolls… humanoid creations designed to provide comfort for humans without the complication of human emotions. Maybe I should rephrase that.

I understand the depth of emotion one can feel for an object. Objects we love are infused with memories. Toys hold our childhood, our fantasies, our play in them. So in a way, a robot girlfriend or a sex doll can be the velveteen rabbit for the grown up.

So here’s my question: if you could afford it, would you buy one?

We had a party at home. Friends came to play music. Downstairs, instruments were plugged into amps, the guys started jamming. Upstairs in the kitchen, Sam helped me do dishes.

I played the video for Jay. Sam was doing dishes, I was behind the camera, undoing his jeans, pulling his hard-on out of his pants and putting it in my mouth. I handed the camera to Sam so I could concentrate on swallowing his cock. I watched him watch me push it back and forth into my throat.

We heard a skirmish from downstairs. It sounded like someone was going up the stairs to where we were. We stopped everything. After making sure everything was all right downstairs, I went back up to finish the dishes.

Sam had already done them all so I started getting food ready. While I worked, Sam put his hands under my skirt. We rolled the camera again, this time he pushed his hard cock inside my pussy and fucked me against the sink as downstairs Jay wailed with the swell of the music.

I gripped Jay’s hard cock while he watched the video, which ended abruptly when guests knocked on our door. I could tell Jay had mixed feelings.

I had gotten drunk that night at the party. I wanted to be the drunk girl Jay fantasizes about. That one girl who still hangs around after everyone has left the party and is waiting to be taken advantage of. But I drank too much. I passed out cold. I woke up at three in the morning still wearing my party dress, and jumped Jay’s sleepy bones. By that time, though, the giddy excitement was gone.

I had a knot in my stomach. I had failed to share with Jay the excitement I felt with Sam while the moment was still hot.

The morning after the party I was hung over. I took a shower, ate a banana, took some Vitamin B to help nurse my hangover. The house was still asleep, so I laid on the couch reading “When God Was A Woman” by Merlin Stone. There were two chapters of great interest to me that morning, Chapter 7, “The Sacred Sexual Customs,” and Chapter 9, “And the Men of the City Shall Stone Her with Stones.”

The book describes an ancient matriarchal culture centered around a temple devoted to sacred sex, orgiastic free flowing sex with no strings attached. Through snippets from the Old Testament, the author tells the story of how the patriarchs violently slaughtered all who worshiped at the altar of sacred sex, in order to establish a patrilineal culture, one in which a woman’s virginity before marriage and her fidelity as a wife was imperative under penalty of death.

“I feel so guilty,” I told Jay. “No matter how far away I’ve gone from my Catholic upbringing, I still have inside me this fear in my gut of being stoned to death. I’m an adulteress. I’m a sinner.”

My man answered me, “Did you know that the word ’sinner’ really means someone who worships the moon? Sin is a Sumerian Moon God.”

My head cleared. Words are powerful. Used as a weapon words can stone a woman to death from thousands of years away. Used as a balm words can heal a body and soul.

I love this man. How I found him all the way from the other side of the world can only be a blessing from the Gods and Goddesses of Love. Everyday he reminds me of what is truly sacred in our lives.

Jay planted a garden into a hollow tree stump today. From the deck above I saw the crescent moon shape of the new plants in the potting soil he laid. There were tiny blue flowers and blue crystal marbles catching the sunlight.

Tonight, after I got him hard I asked him to take me outside. I only had a flimsy nightdress on, he had just come out of the shower and was wearing a thick warm bathrobe. The night air was cool but there was no breeze. A perfect summer evening.

I laid on my back on the picnic table, legs wide open for his cock. I watched him above me, constellations twinkling behind him. I thought of all the Gods and Goddesses frolicking in the night sky, kissing and licking and sucking and fucking and shuddering and cumming and laughing and hugging and loving and birthing and smiting and forgiving and starting all over again from kissing.

He pulled me off the table and down to suck his cock. He covered me with his warm robe, and I swallowed his cock in the snug darkness. He bucked hard and I gagged. He bucked harder then lifted me up to fuck me from behind, pulling my nightdress off my shoulders.

“I like seeing your tits,” he whispered. “They’re so pointy outdoors.”

We fucked and fucked dirty. He pushed his cock into my ass, my pussy, my mouth interchangeably and told me how happy he is to have a wife who gives herself fully to him. I told him I let him do anything he wants to me because I trust him fully.

“You dirty whore,” he called to me while he rammed his rock hard cock into me.

“I like being your dirty whore,” I am starting to like that name. I’m claiming these words as mine now: whore, adulteress, sinner… I take them as words of power and freedom. Love has set me free.

HNT courtesy of Erotic Garden.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #169? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Covet
“My mouth waters at the sheer beauty.”
Lilly’s Turn – Part 3: Wherein Lust, Greed and Risk Intersect
“She was biting her lip to prevent herself from making a sound.”
Oh Dirty Girl
“It was at that moment that I knew I needed him to take me and take me dirty.”
Mr. Sugasm Himself
Porn’s 2009 AIDs Outbreak
Sugasm Editor
Review: Why Just Her
Editor’s Choice
My very first HNT!

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing & Experiences
He Can Use Me All Night – Part Two, Yet Another Hotel
Hump Day Poetry
I Can’t Get No Contraception – Part 2
Just fucking.
Keeping It Simple
Tedious Training
Wet dream at the airport-part2
News, Reviews & Interviews
20 Questions with Satine Phoenix
Favorite Jeans -HNT
Girly HNT.
Glow Plugs and the Kegel8 Effect
I’m unemployed and I live with my parents
Protection and Promiscuity
Sex Advice
Congrats! You are the new proud owner of some Sexy Lingerie!
Pompoir: The Art of Milking the Lingam
The truth about female ejaculation
BDSM & Fetish
Breed Sex Part 1: They Want to Cum in You.
Daddy Spanked Me
Darklady’s 9th Annual Masturbate-a-Thon – The Solo Sex Circus
High School Bully Part 3
Humiliation
Imprint
A Kiss Goodbye
Meeting a Domme
Le 6 janvier…L’histoire!…My version
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Bent in the chair for harsh punishment
Cikita
Lindsay Lohan Topless Twitter Picture
Liv – Pure Perfection
Nude at daylight
Teen girl bending over for some harsh cane stripes
Touched
Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Eagerness & Blow Jobs – Lessons Learned From Gay and Bi Men
Faking Orgasms | How it feels for a girl
On Love, Loss and Taking Risks