quizzical pussy

I used to play a game called Questions with an old boyfriend. I could ask him any question about anything in the world, and he’d have to answer it. Then he’d ask me one. We’d do this for hours, indefatigably. It was like Truth or Dare except no one ever–even on accident–chose dare. Perhaps it was immature to play a game instead of having organic conversations, but I don’t know. It was kind of cool to have permission to ask anything I wanted to know; to in fact have someone waiting and eager for each query. Sometimes I get too comfortable accepting that everyone is a mystery, which makes me less likely to be vulnerable myself. And I seldom ask completely random, off-the-top-of-my-head questions out of the blue like that.

Maybe sometimes context is the enemy of edification.

More than a year ago now, I found myself in a fit of frustrated horniness over a lack of response from a potential paramour. Being a long-time conTuesday reader, I had a flash of inspiration! So I wrote in a confession detailing my various dirty thoughts on the subject. Took me ages.

Looking back, I credit this as at least one of the reasons I felt comfortable introducing dirty talk to a more recent budding relationship. This has been a very successful introduction. And I may never have been able to get over my embarrassment and just jump in if it hadn’t been for the surprising success of my efforts to talk dirty to an internet-full of strangers.

So, this isn’t really a confession. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate conTuesday. And that whatever else the world will say about it, it certainly helped at least this person’s sex life to be better and more verbal. So thanks. *hugs* and/or *gropes* to you, QP, whatever suits your current feelings ;)

I will take all the hugs and gropes! This makes me incredibly happy for so many reasons, the least of which is not how deeply I love dirty talk myself.

This winter break I am passing through a town which I had previously visited this last summer. Who is also passing though at the same time? The woman with whom I had a several night stand with while I was there in the summer. I fucking love coincidence. She recognized me even though I had grown a beard in the mean time and she thinks I am sexier with the beard. Unfortunately we only had one night this time, but we made the most of it. We kept in touch this time round, so does this mean we are now “fuck whenever we can” buddies or something like that? I don’t even know, I’m just really happy with coincidence right now since it also turns out that she lives within weekend travel distance of me.

PS: I feel kind of bad about how much of a mess we made out of the hotel room, but mostly awesome that I can brag about it.

There’s no way I can know for sure if you’re “fuck whenever [you] can” buddies or not, but literally all signs point to yes.

And always tip housekeeping. It keeps the guilt at bay and not enough people do.

First off, let me preface this by saying I am a longtime reader and lover of this blog and of ConTuesday.

I have to admit, though, sometimes I wonder about the word “confession”…

When we confess our stories about sex, does that imply that sex/sexuality are supposed to be secret, private–and that we are doing something naughty or wacky or abnormal or illicit by revealing them?

In our normative society, there is so much sex-negativity, so much terror of the body’s pleasures…such lustphobia. So I wonder about your use of the term confession to air folks stories. I wonder if there aren’t hints of sex-negativity laden within the term that perhaps (though I’m sure this is unintentional on your part) sticks to the word confess/ion.

Thanks for reading! I’m so glad you like the blog.

You make an excellent point. If there were no sex-negativity in society we wouldn’t need to surreptitiously disclose our sexual foibles; we’d just as soon shout them from rooftops or post them on facebook. And I would put my legal name on this blog, and there would be sex booths on every corner where, if you felt like it, you could insert quarters and have a comfy, automatically sterilized surface on which to fuck that person you happened to be walking down the street with, or that stranger with the comely backside. And all that would be awesome. The fact that we feel we can’t be open about sex does, tautologically enough, indicate that we feel we have something to hide. And that chafes the idealistic libertine.

But about the actual word “confession”, I hate it when people try to prove a point using dictionary definitions, but I do want to highlight something that I think is rather neat:

We all know how the average guy likes contemplating or viewing girl-on-girl action (especially oral), or at least wouldn’t be turned off by it. But I wonder for you or for other women reading your blog here how man-on-man action is considered (again generally oral)? I’ve had girlfriends who appreciated (and particiapted) in my bi-sexual flings, and I’ve had girlfriends to whom I would not dare confess my desire to have an occasional penis play buddy. I don’t stray but I am sometimes beside myself with cravings…

I have a strict policy that the sex I’m not having isn’t about me, and therefore isn’t for me. So if someone I’m with is bisexual, awesome. If not, awesome. Bisexuals are objectified enough, and no one needs my help making sure they stay that way. That being said, the visual of two people I find pretty having sex with each other is something I will always appreciate. I’m usually more immediately and visually attracted to women, so two men have a lower chance of making me drool than two women or a hetero pairing, simply because the odds I’ll be attracted to both of them are lower. But goodness, it happens! And is hot.

But I guess what I really want to say is that your sexuality is fine whether chicks fetishize it or not, you know?

I have been seeing someone for the last few months that was supposed to be just a friends with benefits situation but has turned into something more. Not a relationship, but there are definitely feelings involved on both sides. He’s awesome, funny, amazingly hot, the best lover I have ever (EVER) had and has a perfect dick.

The problem? I have herpes and while I am usually very good about disclosing, I totally chickened out on telling him when we first got together. Then, I felt like it was too late so I justified it to myself that I am confident in my ability to keep him from getting it (I have a perfect 15 year non-transmitting record on this). I know, I KNOW I was fooling myself thinking that it wasn’t that bad, but I stuck my head in the sand and was able to ignore it for the first few months.

But, as my feelings for him deepened, my guilt about this grew more and more insistent until I finally I knew I had to tell him. This is the HARDEST thing I’ve ever done in my life. To admit that I’m not the person either of us thought I was, that I was a coward and selfish, all the while I was sure that he would never want to see me again and who could blame him? He was quiet through most of the conversation, but told me that he forgave me, that he believed me when I said that I had never lied about anything else (I hadn’t) and that I was sorrier than he would ever know. He said he needed to think about it and to give him a little space.

Cue a week of immense guilt, self recrimination, anxiety, depression, a lot of crying and cutting myself again after not doing that for years. Ugh. I finally texted him after a week, unable to take the silence any longer and we made plans to hang out and talk.

He came over and it was like nothing had happened. He kissed me when he walked in, and just started talking about his week and was casually physically affectionate. He made a move to have sex and I stopped him to ask if he was sure. He said that he had thought a lot about it and while he has some trust issues, he also missed me too much to not have me in his life, so he made a decision to keep me in it.

JOY! RELIEF! To be able to be with him and not have this secret eating away at me is unimaginable happiness.

Then we proceeded to have our hottest sex to date, which I didn’t even think was possible. DAMN I love his dick.

I’m so glad things worked out for you. You deserve awesome sex with someone who values you, and I’m glad you’re having it!

Everyone, please remember to disclose your STI status to new partners before sexing them up in any way. It’s vital to their overall health, your emotional health, and the health of your relationship and reputation, casual or not.

My boyfriend takes *forever* to cum. And by forever I mean routinely over an hour. We’re both really new to sex in general and I don’t know how to deal with this (needless to say, not the problem I was expecting!). I just get so tired and he ends up taking care of himself while I lay there. Any advice? The internet doesn’t consider this a problem, apparently…

I have never really encountered this problem. There’s an actual medical condition called delayed ejaculation, but I don’t know if that applies here. Anyone?

I have trouble with taking advice from people who are in relationship styles that I do not want to emulate. For example, my parents are in a loveless marriage and have been for at least a decade, my best friend never talks to his girlfriend about sex, even though they both have extremely high sex drives and unmet sexual needs and fantasies (they’ve both told me this individually), and my other friends don’t even know what they want out of their lives yet.

Still, every one of them keeps trying to give me advice about my singleness. People, I know what I want out of a relationship and it isn’t what any of you have. I want open communication, hot sex, and loving companionship. I will not follow your advice if it got you to places that fall short of that.

I think it’s amazingly gracious of you to characterize loveless and communicationless dynamics as “relationship styles”. I’m not sure I’d much want to hear what they had to say about my love life unless it was because I wanted to know what to avoid.

But I suppose people who are self-aware enough can learn from their own mistakes and pass on that wisdom to others (one of the main reasons I can think of for people consistently coming to me for relationship advice since like 1996), and whether they have the courage to make changes in their own lives is a separate matter.

But seriously, who wouldn’t rather be single than stuck in a loveless marriage? That, along with forgetting how to play with toys and have stupid adventures, is how people die inside.

Tell me a secret.

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