quizzical pussy

Sometimes I wonder how you like really know you’re in love.

You know you’re in love when there’s a moment during naked-snuggle-time where it’s appropriate to yell “Get back here so I can gum your nipple like a horny tortoise!”

I… does this mean I’ve never been in love?

I’m excited to go to the doctors tomorrow!

Er, wut? Well, I’m young, single, sociable and a total sex-clued, hedonistic, pleasure-seeking kink-friendly nympho… when I’m not medicated to the eyeballs. Unfortunately, due to general health issues (not all that dissimilar from yours, from what I can gather, QP!) it’s been totally necessary to medicate me to the eyeballs and beyond for quite a while now, and antidepressants in particular have taken a cane to my sex drive, and not in a good way. I’ve gone from losing my libido to inability to orgasm right through to not even finding anyone attractive anymore, because what’s the point. Ugh. So far, my attempts to raise this with my doctors have been met with everything from “meh, it doesn’t really matter, enjoying sex isn’t medically essential (Heavily implied: “…for women”)” to “I’m uncomfortable with this conversation… did you say you were getting headaches? Let’s give you something for the headaches!” oh and the ultimate classic “I’ve never heard of that as a side effect… (reading the patient leaflet I have just presented her which clearly states it as one, plus doesn’t like, EVERYONE know SSRIs inhibit sex?!) Hmm, no, I’ve not heard of this before, nobody has reported it. Perhaps you’re just not comfortable having sex because you’re not married. I’m sure you’ll be fine when the time is right!” Just… fuck the lot of them. Tomorrow I go to my new doctor, explain that I am unhappy with the extent to which this has affected me, and suggest swapping to Wellbutrin, and he IS going to listen to me, and I AM going to remember what it feels like not to cringe to the depths of my soul when somebody touches me. Wish me luck.

Holy dildoballs. I can’t even process how idiotic your previous doctors have been. I am wishing all the luck that your new doctor is competent and understands that sexual activity is a quality of life issue for many of us rather than some weird species of alien slime that one should never look at directly lest it infect one’s retinas.

The more comfortable I get in kinksville, the less comfortable I am in vanillatown. I almost don’t feel like I can be myself around my vanilla friends anymore. I find this unexpectedly stressful, and I’m not sure how to fix it. I can’t give up kink, and I don’t want to alienate my oldest friends. :(

If you’re not insisting on bringing floggers to their tea parties or making every conversation about your latest adventures in bite marks, I guess I’m just wondering why they can’t be happy for you. Of course, sometimes we grow in divergent paths from our long-term friends, and there’s really no one to blame for that.

About a year ago a whole bunch of my friends and I spent a few days on holidays together. We were all sleeping on the floor of the rumpus room and spent a lot of time chatting instead of sleeping. This made me pretty tired, so one afternoon I decided to take a nap.

Only I couldn’t fall asleep so I decided to get off instead. I was touching myself under the covers when my friend came in to get something from her bag, so I froze and pretended to be asleep. She left, I started up again, then another friend came in. It became a game, touching myself when no-one was there and stopping myself when they were, a self-administered orgasm denial scheme that stretched on and on until I was left alone long enough to come like a freight train. It was the best wank of my life.

This year, we were back up at the house and I had another afternoon wank in honour of that time. I think I could make this a tradition :)

P.S. Also, for some reason at the time I was fantasising about a Dom tormenting me by spraying me with ice cold water. I’ve never had that fantasy before or since. Libidos are weird.

And then again, it occurs to me that sometimes kink and vanilla friendship coexist just fine without actually interacting in any way. I’m only assuming these friends are vanilla because most of my kinky friends would likely pick up on this game and offer to enhance it in numerous creative ways.

My partner once told me of an… appreciation for lasses wearing animal ears. I looked everywhere when Halloween came, but nothing could be found that wasn’t ridiculously expensive.

So today I was out buying some random stuff, and what should I happen upon but a set of leopard ears (in the bachelorette party section, right). On the one hand, I reeeeeally want to see the look on his face.

But I can’t think of any combination of things I could buy with it that would make it less than completely obvious what I plan to use them for…

PS. I’m totally overthinking this, right? Fuck it, I’m getting ’em!

I want to tell you something, and I hope it’s reassuring. Cashiers don’t give a shit. They don’t. If they do because they’re still teenagers or because they’re extremely bored, you just made a life more exciting. You are a great person!

Hope you and your partner gleefully wear those ears out.

My confession? I love reading other people’s confessions. I look for new ideas, and evidence that other people are having awesome sex. It makes me feel good. Having my (previous) confession posted was also awesome, but I love everyone else’s confessions. And crazy hot sweaty monkey sex with my boyfriend and periodic guest stars. :)

I pretty much entirely agree with this except my sex with my boyfriend tends more toward the sweaty hot lemur sex, but live and let live.

Straight male, married almost 7 years, together for over 10.

Had amazing FF(Me!) threesome with wife and wife’s friend last night. Wife and I have been pure vanilla up until a few months ago, and she has only recently confessed to have some tendencies (and I don’t know how strong they are) towards bisexuality. Luckily we have an awesome like-minded friend to play with.

Getting fucked with a strap-on while fucking my wife was quite an experience and the shes and I can’t wait for more.

I totally understand that threesomes are not for everyone, but still, I get a happy, glowing feeling when I know that more of them are happening in the world.

Because threesomes are motherfucking magic. Now you know.

Share/Save

Sometimes when I’m stressed out I just want someone to charge into my largely solitary existence, messy up all my things that I’ve arranged carefully so that no one notices that I’m struggling, and god dammit take care of me. And I hate admitting that.

Holy crap it’s like a confession except everyone knows it’s me!

Oh thank god! I was so concerned about you because you posted about wanting to kill yourself and then you didn’t post for a week and I was running around in a circle whining like a distressed puppy. But you’re okay. Thank god.

I feel like a jackass for worrying you, and you have also made my frigid heart melt.

I’ve been healthily (for once) in love with a man who is stable and afraid to hurt me but willing to when he knows I need it and whose immediate reaction to seeing me have a Little breakdown and sucking my thumb is knowing he needs to take care of me and find a way to make me genuinely smile again, all while dating a man who thinks and will directly say that he needs to learn to be an asshole in order to be a Dom and he can’t do that and who puts off important conversations (like me trying to break up with him) for months and whose first reaction to me being upset enough to suck my thumb is, “That’s gross,” and who, oh gods, can’t spell but expects me to respect and follow his badly phrased and inappropriate orders when language means so much to me and he doesn’t care to even try. Lets all pretend that wasn’t a run-on sentence.

I AM DETERMINED TO BREAK UP WITH HIM; grant me the courage to not feel obligated to stay. I don’t want to hurt him, butt-fuck it, I’m going to have to in order to go on with my life and not have him waste any more of his time with me.

You are obligated to break up with someone when you genuinely don’t want to be in a relationship with them. When things have gone that far, no amount of conversation or counseling or ignoring the issue is going to reverse the fact that you genuinely don’t want to be in the relationship. And nothing good is going to come from staying in it. People get hurt; it’s what we sign up for when we fall for one another. A lover who never hurts you is one with whom you have a very brief or a very shallow connection. But the temporary pain of a breakup is so much better than the stagnation and misery of a relationship that is supposed to be over– and that goes for both people, ultimately.

Courage, poppet. You’ve got this.

We made out under the stars on this, our first date after having just met. We came up for air, and my future wife asked me, “What’s the strangest place at which you’ve ever masturbated?” I was 19, so I thought that “a dressing room at J.C. Penny” was pretty impressive. She was impressed. Years later (still before we married), she would go into the dressing room of Dillard’s, where she worked at the time, and get her jollies.

Since then, I can’t think of anything that really displaces it. In the car while driving? (Yawn.) In the men’s room at work? (Oh, puh-lease.) In a deer blind while hunting? (MAYbe.)

QP, what was your strangest place and/or circumstance that you’ve ever masturbated in?

And I would love to read commenters’ honest answers to this question. Even the mundane is of interest. For science.

I like to think that wearing kegel balls on a roller coaster totally counts. It feels like it counts.

Can i just say that my boyfriend is amazing. We are getting in to bondage play and we both don’t really know what we are doing but OH MY GOD I love being tied up so freaking much.

And I love him for taking care of me for three hours when I got overwhelmed and freaked out and started crying. He made me hot chocolate and wrapped me in blankets and held me until I felt better.

I love your boyfriend. In a strictly platonic, because-he-is-awesome-to-you-and-you-deserve-it way. Most likely.

I wrote you a novel of a confession weeks ago about my motorcycle friend. After several months of being teased by people who have seen us together, I felt I had to say something to him in light of a potentially awkward arrangement that would have been to the benefit of us both.

The integrity of my man picker is in worse shape than I was lead to believe: my mother and her friend thought it was just in need of recalibration for long-term mate traits. Given how far it’s lead me astray this last round I think it’s genuinely broken and, I dare say, irreparably damaged.

My feelings are deeply hurt but our relationship is more important to me, especially since he’s trusted me with his secret. At the same time, I know there are exceptions (I’ve met one and heard about three now). The adjectives he uses to describe them makes it clear that I do not merit one, even if he doesn’t say it plainly. I think that actually hurts more.

I feel selfish.

I feel like all the work I’ve done to be a better person and to be more attractive to the opposite sex has only made me a better friend of the “she’s like my sister” variety. After several years of this, I’ve come to believe that any variation of you’re sweet/a good person is the kiss of death despite those things supposedly being virtues.

I think I ought to give up on men because I’m tired of it blowing up in my face.

I’m sorry it turned out that way. I’m not going to bore you with platitudes, but if you need proof that you’re attractive to the opposite sex I doubt you have an profile on a dating website that mentions how much you love motorcycles. Let me know when you’re bored of the throngs of bikers messaging you. Just a hunch.

Last night, I beat my girlfriend with a riding crop for the first time, and all I can say is, HOLY FUCK!! Every time I hit her it was like a bolt of lightning right to my pussy, and WOW did it ever feel good! I’ve heard people say before that they can come just from beating someone, but now I actually understand how. The psychological and emotional rush you get is exquisite. Can’t wait to try it again :)

I hear there’s this thing called top space where yep, it’s pretty much HOLY FUCK or drugs or something.

We finally managed anal and although I don’t think it’s ever going to make me come it is super hot what it does to him. It is fun but not blow my mind, for me, but the way it blows his is totally worth the work to get there!

::Internet high five:: You are a champ to be so dedicated to your partner’s turn-ons, and deserve extra helpings of whatever sex blows your mind.

Confess your hot things. We don’t believe in sin here.

Share/Save

Are you ever pottering around the internet and find yourself wondering what kind of things and people and naked people QP likes to look at? I mean, yeah, probably not. That’s fair. But I still feel like it’s weird that I forgot to mention I have a tumblr where I keep that stuff.

Fap to what I’m fapping to. Laugh at what I’m laughing at. Squee for what I’m squeeing for. Guess which is which. I dare you.

Sexyfriend revealed to me that he was kicked out of boy scouts for being caught naked and fooling about with another scout. No regrets on either party’s side, and I found it adorable!

Cosigning the adorability. I think of consensual, non-exploitative, regretless sexual exploration as one of the most innocent things there is because the moment we learn shame and guilt is when we actually lose our innocence. And when we unlearn shame and guilt maybe we get it back.

And I just think we should be getting badges for that kind of thing.

I am the confessor who was afraid to have sex in this ConTuesday. At the New Year I met an amazing man and being with him has helped me move past a lot of my issues. We haven’t had intercourse yet but I actually feel ready this time, like I really, truly want it. We have had amazing sex and I love him. Oh also he’s bi and he wants me to fuck his ass someday. Sometimes we pretend, and I bend him over with his face in the pillow and it’s amazing too. Yay!

I am so fucking happy for you! ::internet high five::

I was in his bed. I was on my period. His fingers were on my clit…through three layers: pants, panties, pad. It felt great, but what I needed to make me come that night was bare hands on bare pussy (sex and even dry humping weren’t options for medical reasons).

So I said, “This feels really good, but it’s more like you touching my breasts than my clit–I’m not going to come tonight, but it’s not your fault.”

I was so afraid I’d disappointed him.

Later, as we cuddled our way to dreamland, I asked him to ‘tell me something, anything.’

The anything on his mind? “I’m really glad you told me what was up when I was touching you earlier. I would have sat here feeling guilty all night.”

For some unknowable reason, I keep feeling the need to dial back on enthusiastic/explicit consent stuff, emotional communication, emotional and sexual needs with this guy–afraid of seeming too girly, too feminist, something. But every time I ask for explicit consent, initiate emotional communication, or share my needs, it turns out to be even more necessary than I thought it was, and the results are much better than my best-case scenario.

And he thanks me, every time.

I still have my own issues with communicating about sex; I think most people do. I’m better than I used to be, but there’s still a part of me that feels unworthy of wanting things. And there’s another part of me that feels like I should just go with the flow because I’m so easy to get off anyway. And yet another part of me is pretty certain that sharing my desires will result in very bad things. But those parts of me are stupid, and on a more fundamental level every atom in my body vibrates with the understanding that talking about sex is  important and utterly wonderful when we do it right. So I squee for you.

You are awesome.

Not just for your posts (wonderful as they are), but especially for your confessionals. You claim to judge, yet you sit in wonderful care and ‘I’ statements. I have an incredible amount of respect for you for this. And not a little inspiration for striving to be a less judgmental person.

Much love for you

I sometimes feel weird about posting confessions like this, but they make my day, and you know what? I’m posting this anyway. Thank you so much for your kind words.

I just had an amazing sexting session with my former Mistress of two years. She nervously mentioned the idea of playing again … maybe with roles reversed and I soon had her begging for permission to masturbate.

After six orgasms for her and one for me I made her stop fucking herself before she got to seven. She was nearly in tears with frustration and “hating me” for how much it was all turning her on.

I’ll call this a success.

Yes. Yes, I would feel safe saying that it’s a success.

There has to be a word– perhaps in another language– for the exquisite naughtiness of being turned on by something we don’t strictly want to be turned on by (because shame and guilt and loss of innocence and lack of merit badges or, I don’t know, lots of reasons).

A couple of nights ago, we tried intermammary sex for the first time in years. I found it amazingly hot — way better than I remembered it to be, probably in part due to being in a good headspace and partly due to her being on top — and the dynamic for both of us was all smiles and gasps and goodness. Afterward, my wife said that she doesn’t see what the appeal of intermammary sex with her is to me — her breasts aren’t huge and she wonders why it’s so fun if they don’t ”grip” my cock. I told her, and now I’ll share with the QP readership: sternum on underside of cock is hot. Breasts brushing by, gently or frantically and nicely in reach, is hot. Eye contact and gasps and goodness are hot. Doing something a little different that we’d last done years ago before kids and mortgage and greying temples is hot. No change of breast geometry or cup size would change any of that.

The term “intermammary sex” would generally sound more like an antidote to hot if we were going by me (which we’re not anyway), but the fact that you had so much fun completely neutralizes that. Fuck yeah intermammary sex!

Fuck yeah sex confessions!

Share/Save

“They say Hunter S. Thompson typed out the entire text of The Great Gatsby just to get the feel of writing a great novel. That’s why I yell your name when I masturbate.”

I can honestly say this is the best terrible pickup line I’ve thought up in like a week, and I can also honestly say that I have too much regard for myself and the rest of my human family to ever use it. But seriously, I sometimes wonder if I couldn’t have been a work-of-art level douchebag if life had gone just a little differently.

No regrets. Steady now. Breathe.

Last semester, I did the grad school application and visiting dance, and ended up visiting quite a few schools. Not surprisingly, in the small academic community, I ended up seeing quite a few of the same people visiting these schools with me. Well, one person in particular.

He was tall, dark haired, and slightly unconventional looking, but damn did I love flirting with him, and flirting my way too! Not the silly coy flirtatious eyes, or telling him that he’s attractive. No, I like to flirt in the most egregiously insulting way possible. I think I told him he was literally the worst human being I had ever met. And at the last visit, after a great party, we ended up back at the hotel, standing outside his door, and he pulled me close to him, and holy shit I have never felt such a concentrated urge to kiss/fuck/entangle myself with someone in my entire life.

But I was in the ‘breaking up’ stage with my bf at the time, and it would have felt like cheating. So I pulled away, I apologized, told him he was freakishly attractive, then went to my room. We ended up going to different schools, and I wonder if I’ll ever see him again.

Even though I know (I think) that I made the right decision by not cheating on my then-boyfriend, I regret that good decision ALL THE TIME. And there’s still this little part of my brain that brings up a fantasy- we’re both at the same academic conference, I attend his talk, we meet for drinks after, he invites me up to his hotel room and this time we’re both deliciously single.

I think it’s probably accurate to say that most of us are going to lie on our death beds regretting, if anything, the things we didn’t do more than the things we did do. But that could be wildly inaccurate because I guess there’s always the possibility that we’ll all die in broad daylight because of a natural disaster or a Mayan calendar¹ and not even have proper death beds.

Nevertheless, you’ll have sacrificed potentially great sex for not being a douchebag, and I think that’s entirely valid. Noble, even. I’d say you  definitely deserve to run into this guy at an academic conference soon and pick up where you nobly left off.

I wanna sex up my man, and he’s just sitting there watching Naruto. All sitcoms but Married with Children have lied to me ;___;

One thing I’m sure of is that no one is going to lie on their death bed thinking “Damn, I wish I’d watched more TV…” All you people watching TV instead of sexing each other up, I respect your choices, but please make sure those are your actual priorities and you’re not just being lazy. You’ll thank me when we’re almost dead.

I’ve just realised that I like it in the ass. Like, I feel like I’m much closer to a g spot type orgasm from anal sex than vaginal, the few times I have tried it.

Weirder, I’m a mostly dominant woman, I’d say 90% top, but once a partner made me eat brownies and toffee sauce from a pet bowl whilst he fucked me in the ass, and that was amazing.

My man now, who I sincerely hope to be with forever because I truly love him, is very submissive and I very dominant of him, so I’m not sure how I’m going to work this in but I WILL think something up. Perhaps order him to assfuck me, in a sort of ’you’re mine and I’m using you for my perverse pleasure’ sense? That might work.

I’m going to be slightly douchey and quote myself. “Are you submissive to the food you eat? Is a canteen at the mercy of the water inside it? Eclipsing, holding, consuming, overlapping, absorbing aren’t words of weakness to me. We choose to think of the partner who welcomes the other into his/her body in such passive terms, but that’s choice, that’s perspective. It’s not innate to the nature of sex; it’s a commentary on our social paradigm.”

I got my Much Younger Lover back. Things didn’t last with the girl I set him up with so we started seeing each other again. He does the most wonderful things with his mouth on my pussy. The last time he went down on me he told me I came for over a minute. I had no idea it was that long, I just knew I couldn’t breathe for ages afterwards. He’s away right now and I haven’t had sex in weeks. I’m so horny that I’m climbing the walls.

You know that “if you love something set it free” shit? You did that. Turns out if it comes back you get minute-long orgasms. Now here is a picture of a butterfly:

QP, I’m so excited, and wanted to share. I am a straight girl in a long-term monogamous relationship, but recently I’ve been having thoughts about kissing this girl I know. There’s clearly interest on her part but I found to my surprise that the interest goes both ways! I thought I’d never have the chance to pursue that but I spoke with my boyfriend about it and he gave me the green light to pursue makeouts with her! So now I get to have cuddles and makeouts with this freakin’ awesome chick AND an awesome, supportive boyfriend. How lucky am I?

You are basically living the dream. ::Internet high five::

Last night my room mate / semi girl friend gave me the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had!

Tied to the bed, clover clamps, and the most amount of fingers I’ve ever had.

I was so high after. It was so good, this morning I was questioning if I’ve ever actually had an orgasm before.

“Some orgasms are more equal than others.”

Another horrible pickup line, admittedly, but also rather true.

Confess here.

1. Okay, admittedly not the Mayan calendar one. [↩]

Share/Save

ConTuesday! Is imminent. Or here. Almost certainly here.

When her sighs turned to moans which turned to squeals which turned to the most compelling high-volume warbling, I finally began let up from rubbing her clit, so as not to overload her. She immediately hissed “Don’t stop!”, and the solo continued for a few seconds.

Always before, my partners had shown some reluctance to completely let go, and to be fully in the moment.

This was beautiful.

Fuck. Yes.

I tried anal play with a regular sized dildo for the first time (been scared because it hurts with just one finger) and it was only a little bit sore at the start. Then I came so hard I had trouble standing up afterwards.

It is just one of a number of things that I would never have tried where it not for you inspiring me to *ahem* experiment. Other such things include bondage and blowjobs. (No seriously, I was too scared to put my mouth anywhere near a guy’s crotch before I started reading your blog. Now I’m trying to figure out how to conquer my gag reflex and fit my husband’s porn-star-sized dick all the way down my throat. He sends his everlasting gratitude, by the way.)

Soooo, next on my list: buy a vibrating butt plug and a Feeldoe, and fap myself into a coma. Then somehow work the term ‘pegging’ into a conversation with the husband.

Okay, in the process of deciding between a quip about how nice it is that dildos don’t have fingernails and one about how prostate play is the new fantasy football, I realized that if I really, in any small way, have made anyone’s sex life better through this blog, I’m legitimately elated. More orgasms, more love, more oxytocin in the world… that’s the dream. Right there.

The best sex I ever had left me looking so beaten up I had to tell my mum I’d been paintballing. I looked like I’d been beaten up by an enraged mob and I LOVED it.

Now if I ever go paintballing I’m going to wish I were wearing much less clothing getting flung around by my hair far, far more. I guess I should thank you?

Okay, so I’m a guy, and I discovered that my hetero guy friend has been masturbating while we talk on the phone. I brought it up to him once while he was drunk, and he didn’t have much to say about it. As I say, he’s straight, so he has something invested in not admitting to masturbating while talking on the phone. I wonder why we care? I mean, it’s not MY hand on his dick. I’M not the one who’s stimulating him. And I know he pussy; I’ve seen him fuck it on more than one occasion. (And yes, I fully realize that I will receive little if any pity here for such a minor question of the labeling implications of this tiny aspect of my sexuality.)

Then, there’s me. Am I turned on by it? I don’t think so. I’m fascinated by observation, even if just aurally, of sex and masturbation. So why should it bother me to know it? I think, at this point, it’s the fact that we’re very close to the point where I’m aware and he’s aware that I’m aware, and that makes it pretty much a participatory act, regardless of whether I’m talking about sex or cars or our jobs, or whatever.

I’ve another friend, very open, who will tell me about her masturbation. Well what of it? We all do it, and as I say– ours is a very open friendship without secrets of any kind. But when she texts me about it as it’s presumably ongoing or just finished, a certain degree of my heterosexuality fires up. “Hetero” hell– my sex drive.

I and many of the people I love and fuck and possibly one or more of your friends wish we could all be more like bonobos, fucking and fapping and snorting pixie stick lines off beautifully sculpted backsides with casual abandon and without it ever getting weird. It’s a beautiful dream. Except could we take ourselves at all seriously with that hair?

I’m really excited that I’ve finally learned how to insert and use my menstrual cup because its cleaner, more environmentally friendly, etc. But I also get a kick out of going out into the world with a large silicon object in my vagina that no one else knows about. I realize you could say the same thing about tampons, but with my Divacup its exciting.

Plus, you’re keeping a little shot glass of blood warm in there and what is sexier than vampires!?!?! Probably nothing, right?

The other day, my friend said, “I have to do an observation and paper about a gender issue on campus, so I thought I’d write about your effect on campus sexuality.”

When I haven’t gotten laid–when I haven’t been kissed–in three months, that both reassures me and makes me feel like I’m fooling people.

Is it possible that your reputation as a total stud alone is affecting people campus-wide?

I, young and female, recently bought myself a new toy and I’ve discovered: putting things up my ass is a pretty sure way to make me come.

Hell yeah! Because “things” is pretty vague, though, I’m just going to leave this here:

Flared base.

I just broke a 2 year drought. That would generally be enough to brag about. However to make things even better, the friend I broke the drought with is one i’ve had some delicious unresolved sexual tension with for literally years, even prior to the drought.

Even better still? The currently casual nature of the relationship and mutual shared interest in experimenting with sex in a safe partner, including whilst on hallucinogens (also a shared interest) has already been discussed and arranged, date set and upcoming. By the time you guys read this that will have been and gone. Step after that one? MFM Threesome. If I could think of mutual female friends to join us the other would also be an option, if only you were here QP.

Best of all, we’re both very sexually compatible. In fact we match there perfectly. Neither of us is prudish about our sexuality or exploring it and we both share a common interest in delightfully long, marathon sessions of sex.

Sounds like a dream doesn’t it? Well let me assure the both of us that it isn’t, and that the power of sobriety (yes, we’re both fairly straight edge people, with only the occasional forays into psychedelics) and frank conversation led to this point and yielded immense dividends.

Long live candor, trust and all things sexy.

I think that’s a good note to close on. Candor, trust, all things sexy, orgasms, love, and oxytocin. And judicious psychedelics. I just gave you the formula for world peace, planet. Do with it what you will.

Share/Save

I have a cold right now on top of my regularly scheduled chronic illness. I am happy to report that the math works out: while sick sucks, double sick sucks even harder. I also mildly resent living in a world where I have to show state-issued identification in order to buy cold medicine. I guess my point here is, can we just legalize meth and for that matter all the drugs already?

Double sick on mescaline might be okay.

Sometimes, when I’m having a hard time staying focused on sex (and I need to if I want to come), I think to myself…

That’s a fucking penis inside of you/person’s mouth on your cunt/pussy in front of your face! (or whatever is happening at the time)

and for some reason, it always turns me back on, sometimes so much so that I come seconds later.

It’s almost like you’re dirty talking to yourself. I can see it.

A girlfriend and I broke up a few months ago. At the time I considered the split to be a mutual decision; we had been drifting apart mainly due to schedule problems but there were other issues as well. Although we were compatible and the sex was good, we just weren’t at the same place in our lives.

Anyhow, I thought that I had processed the break-up. She and I remained friends. Life has been hectic for me and I haven’t been dating since. Then she let me know that she was seeing someone else. She had a reason to let me know, it wasn’t just a cruel or flip remark. And the news hit me like the Titanic hit the TARDIS. I feel insecurities about the end of our relationship that are totally irrational. What does he have that I don’t? (Aside from a similar job, schedule, and income to her, and living right down the street from her, and basically none of these problems that made her uncomfortable about our relationship). Does he make her laugh? Is he wittier than I am? Does he get her geeky references? Does he know about that tiny spot on her nipple that drives her wild?

What did I do wrong? (Almost certainly nothing, which is one of the most irrational bits). The fact is, we just weren’t as compatible as I wanted us to be. And I know that there are other women out there with whom I’ll be able to read comic books while we cuddle and play Portal 2 and have Dr. Horrible Sing-A-Long time. So why am I so distressed about this whole situation? I’m bothered that this is bothering me at all!

For most people, it’s probably one thing to walk away from a relationship that wasn’t working, but another to feel like they’ve been replaced. This is irrational brain stuff, yeah, but it’s pretty natural. When your favorite independent coffee shop closes down and a big FOR LEASE sign goes up, you probably go through a lot of emotions that are more or less not entirely unlike sadness. But when you see that the location has reopened as a fast food franchise, the original sadness may come back up along with indignation and revulsion and a weird craving for deep fried carbs. This is how we work. Double sick will never not suck. Unless mescaline.

But I hope you’ve come out the other side of all that by now. If not, you will.

So I have a massive oral fixation and love giving oral sex, and I was able to give my boyfriend his first-ever blowjob. Yay, me! Unfortunately, he’s not so familiar with blowjob protocol or the idea that yes, my lips do actually spend most of their time being chapped as hell and that you can’t just grab my hair and have my mouth be ready. But when I tell him that I don’t like/can’t do something, he gets extra-super-careful with me, like he might break me or sommat, and I don’t know if I have all the words to explain exactly what kind of spontaneity lets me not feel completely caught off-guard. I keep thinking, “Just fucking say something!” but then I remember that there are a lot of different ways to say something and not all of them are accurate communication. I’m shit at communication, and even though I’m practicing, it’s a miserable sort of practice, and I really don’t know what to do, and I usually just end up babbling myself into meaningless circles. I’ve become super-nervous about cuddling now, because I like to cuddle a lot, and make out for hours, and he isn’t used to the idea of that so when things get heavy he sort of instantly assumes that penis-in-vagina sex should be happening. I really like him, he’s wonderful in bed, and mostly, I’m just sad that he’d never spent more than five minutes making out with someone before moving on to sex. But how do I convey how wonderful I find making out to be? Or how I don’t find orgasms to be the sole reason to have sex? Or how he’s SO FUCKING SEXY?, because he seriously has NO idea, and it makes me sad that he doesn’t like lots of parts of himself? Please help! I don’t know what to do! I’ve exhausted the Internet’s supply of kittens in the effort to make myself less mopey, and it still hasn’t completely worked.

I feel that I should point out that you seem to be able to convey a lot of these things you want to say in text. I don’t see any good reason one couldn’t make a “How to fuck me” living document to share with one’s lovers, or an infographic, or even a pop-up picture book. It could include the details of what you know you like, what you know you don’t like, what you’re attracted to, what you fantasize about, what you’re curious about, what you find sexy about your current partner/s, and everything you think someone may care to know. It may be a slightly different way to communicate than you have in mind (or maybe not), but whatever works is of value.

I am not coming when I have sex. I do feel great and all, but I feel there’s more to it. What can I do to discover what I’m missing?

If you are having orgasms while masturbating, I would try to incorporate getting yourself off into the partnered sex you’re having. Before sex or after or during or all of the above. It might teach your partner some things about how you like to be touched, and just making your orgasms part of whatever sex you’re having may be “more” all by itself.

If you are not having orgasms in any context at this time, I hope one of my readers has good advice for you because I never know the answer to that one.

I am seriously considering becoming a “sex worker”. I’m a married, mostly stay-at-home mom in my 30s and I’m tired of living paycheck to paycheck. I recently talked to someone who is a “paid companion” and she sees a couple men on a semi-regular basis. All are men she would date even if there wasn’t money involved. My husband and I have an open marriage and he has no problem with me seeing other men. He’d be aghast knowing I was doing it for money. Still seriously considering it. An extra 1,000 a month sure would make things a lot easier.

I really don’t see this as much different than going to my regular job. I use my skills to provide a desired service and get compensated for it. Only in this case, instead of using my skills to line the pockets of a greedy boss, I’d be doing it solely to benefit myself and my family.

If I lived in the Firefly universe I know in my heart of hearts that I would be a registered companion. And I know I’m not the only one. Show of hands?

Can we just legalize everything already? Christ.

So, i’m 20 years old and i’ve have been dating my first honest to god boy for about 2 months now. We met online,which amazed me since all the guys i’d met and gone on dates with from this particular site were complete duds. We’re both nerds, which is awesome as I was in need of a Doctor Who buddy. It is the best perk ever that I find him so attractive and enjoy putting his cock in my mouth. The fact that he can make me laugh whenever we’re together for hours on end is amazing as well.

My sex drive has always been ridiculous. Ever since I discovered masturbation in earnest at age 15. I’d always kind of had that ”warm tingly” sensation down below when I saw naughty things, but it took me forever to make the connection that a HAND goes down there. So it was inevitable that after about 4 weeks of dating, he somehow ends up eating me out while I writhe in ecstasy on his bedroom floor. I believe there was some sort of tickling hi-jinks and my legs ended up spread eagled in a skirt.

After that, we took to doing oral and other naughty things out in semi-public places. First, it started with him giving me the best oral in a garden and a few other places. I think the most excellent place and situation thus far was a crazed round of dry humping, oral, and anal in a park. I innocently ask for a back massage and laid on my stomach. Since my ass is amazing, he naturally decides to bare it, kiss and then rub his cock against it. We then proceed to happily fuck in the park in the late night gloom. A few people pass by but we’re at the bottom of a slight dip in the landscape so it’s hard to see us. Sprinklers are slowly turning on, so we know we’ve only got about 5 minutes or so before they decide to turn on in our patch of grass. With 2 minutes to spare, he comes. I happily clean him off, and we fix our clothes and cuddle for an hour or so. As if we hadn’t just had the best sexy times ever, we pick up the conversation we’d been having prior about silly things on tumblr and we play games on his phone.

Best relationship ever? Maybe.

::Internet high five:: and a wish for many happy adventures in the future!

I totally just submitted a confession about my boyfriend and I doing it in parks and whatnot, but I just had to brag about the fact that our kinks match up so well.

I idly mentioned that I have a thing for pegging and feminization. He smiles at me and says.

“So, you want to dress me up like a girl, bend me over a table, and make me your bitch?…That sounds good to me.”

Score!

::Internet high five:: x9,000 for real.

Quizkids, how I love you. Tell me your tales.

Share/Save

Sometimes you just need to shake things up. This two-days-late ConTuesday has nothing to do with tiredness or stress or the fact that I decided not to bring my laptop avisiting. Nothing. This is about shaking things up.

My girlfriend and I named our purple dildo ‘Taylor’ because we thought it would be rude to press gender norms on her/him.

To me, sex toy courtesy used to mean boiling water, bleach solutions, and condoms. I see now how drastically I was limiting myself.

So last summer I started hanging around this chick and we became friends. The unfortunate part is she is attached. But over the summer we bonded and we start flirting, teasing each other, you know, some chemistry.

So I get a text from her one night for me to come to the pub where some friends are. I agree and meet up with them. At the end of the night, we end up at my place and start making out and have dirty hot sex for HOURS. I wasn’t at my best, I admit, but it was amazing nonetheless.

Now it was on! After that, the sexual chemistry went through the roof. We couldn’t be in the same room together without wanting to rip each other’s clothes off and let our animal instincts take over.

We even started sneaking away from our friends to have sex in my truck, she sucked my dick at school, and we even had sex in the back lawn of our friend’s house.

One day she asked me to tie her up. I couldn’t believe it. This girl was blowing my mind (among other things haha). So I did and spanked her gorgeous ass with my belt and then fucked her until she came.

She is so hot, I can’t get my mind off of her. I have sex dreams about her all the time and wake up with massive hard-ons. I’ve never experienced such sexual intensity. Plus she’s a totally awesome person to boot!

There’s so many other dirty things I want to do to her. There’s a cage and ring inside my boxing gym. I want to take her there, tie her to the cage and fuck her so hard. Then I want to straddle her on the ropes of the ring and make her scream. She would love it!

Waaaaaait a minute…

I would like to think of myself as a reasonably careful person, fairly well-versed in both contraception and STI prevention, and yet I still don’t have oral sex with a condom. Even new partners. I know I shouldn’t, but I just…don’t. I love love love giving blowjobs without latex in the way. I’m a bad person, I know. I’m smart, I should know better. And I still don’t.

…I also love going bareback, to the point where it’s almost a fetish, but I only did that when I was very meticulous with my other birthcontrol and with a fluid-bonded partner. Still. I miss it. Look at me, trying to justify my one poor decision with a more carefully thought out poor decision.

I don’t see why taking on more risk than you feel is strictly wise makes you a bad person. It’s important to be honest with yourself and your partners about what safer sex practices you choose to use, and I actually see shame as the enemy of that. A lot of people have unprotected oral sex. Condoms taste weird and flavored condoms taste weirder. It certainly makes more sense to me in my sex life to limit the cocks I suck to those of vetted, highly trusted partners.

I would like to explore prostate stimulation. I might even want to explore being pegged. But I’m too embarrassed to let my wife know that I might consider such things. I am supposed to be strong and masculine and not deviant at all. If I tell her this, she can (and probably will) say no, and then she gets to hold that over me. Worse (I don’t think that she would do this), she could tell others that I asked for it. She might not, but she might. Or she might just threaten to do so.

How did I get to the point where the woman that I’m supposed to be closest to is the one that I least want to reveal my tender hopes and desires to? I love her, but this feels like the kind of trap for which there is no key. I am more upset about the nature of the situation than the loss of anal play.

The fact that you predict she might betray a confidence troubles me to no end, whether it’s indicative of trust issues on your side or because such behavior is realistic for her. In no just world should a desire for anal play be something you can hold over someone, but considering the world we happen to live in I can understand why you wouldn’t want her to share that information (aside from general privacy and stuff). Really, can you really call someone a partner if you can’t trust them not to hurt or blackmail you like that? I mean, fuck!

I want monogamy. I can live with open relationships, but what really turns me on, is monogamy. Being with my current boyfriend is what has made me realize this. He does fill every void I need another person for. I know that I don’t need, nor do I want, anyone else. Sexually or otherwise.

He is a non-monogamist who wants monogamy in the long run but not now. I don’t tell him that I crave monogamy because I know that if I voice it he will not be happy.

If he wants monogamy some day and you want to stay with him long-term, shouldn’t he know that you’re at least on the same page with that even if you don’t start giving him ultimatums to cleave to you and forsake all others, like, tomorrow?

Anyway, your job in a relationship is not to make people happy or prevent them from being unhappy at all costs. And your job in a relationship is especially not to misrepresent yourself and what you want.

Every toppy woman I’ve slept with has had an identical reaction to finding out I can come on command (and, more to the point, hold off–with great effort–on command). They ALL get this devilish gleam and leap into testing it out. They ALL want to see me beg and whimper, and come again and again once they decide to let me.

I adore it, and the fact that my last coherent thought is usually “oh, you damn toppy asshole” really only makes it better. I love the way they love it. Even when I’m REALLY FUCKING BEGGING, C’MON, LET ME FUCKING COME ALREADY, HOLY FUCKING FUCK. PLEASE.

Switches/versatiles too, probably.

I’m really bad at saying when a partner is doing something I don’t like in bed. Even when something is painful. Ugh. I need classes (and scripts!) for how to communicate better.

Oh, I used to suck at this. So hard. And in my case it came from a place of honestly not understanding that I deserved to have a voice in a sexual dynamic. I’m not trying to project that onto you, but I hope it makes you at least eliminate that as a factor because it’s vitally important to have at least a slight sense of entitlement when it comes to your own body. As for speaking up, my friend, that is likely going to take some practice. Maybe start off communicating with non-sexual friends about backrubs or other neutral-ish touches?

Sex Confessional

Share/Save

You know how some people insist that love is a verb, not a noun? It’s about action, and doing, day in and day out; not just feeling. (Kind of like, I dunno, blogging.) I don’t know if that’s true. I think you can probably define love in innumerable ways and still be correct. But fucking is an action word. And an adjective.

I’m a 25 y-o guy and last semester I had this incredibly hot teacher; her eyes were amazing green, great body and face and she was really into fashion…anyway, the weirdest thing of all is that she is one of the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met;  i allways say that intelligence is a HUGE turn on.
Last month I made an exam and there were just the two of us in the classroom…she bought me a coke and kinda flirted with me. I’ve been jerking off thinking about her since then; thinking about her pussy, her breasts, i wanna see those green eyes blowing me…

I’m tempted to send her an e-mail and try to approach somehow

I am really disturbed by the idea of a pair of eyes blowing you or anyone else, but I wish you all possible luck, droog.

I’m resisting posting some veiled reference to how awesome the last 16.5 hours have been, although the neighbours can probably gather I was having a good time from the ’OH GOD’s and the screams…

It is now 8am and ever since I got off the train I have been with my fantastic boyfriend. We had been apart for three whole weeks and as we are still in the early stages I was a bit worried things would be different when we saw each other in the flesh again.
I was right; things ARE different. Things are better than I believed possible.
Being forced to make conversation over Skype revealed more of our fantasies and kinks, and it’s like he can read my mind. We have made all sorts of plans, bought rope and proper stockings, I’ve had a full hollywood wax and now we are having just the best sex. After fearing I would never orgasm from just PIV intercourse with previous partners, I’ve had six tonight including a simultaeous and a multiple (three). There is just the right mix of BDSM play, exploration and worship of each other’s bodies and mushy, snuggly kisses. It’s bliss. It just works. I can’t quite believe how hard I’ve lucked out finding someone as adventurous and absurdly horny and absolutely on my wavelength. He has a stunningly beautiful cock, too.

For some reason I don’t quite understand, we were both very single virgins until quite recently, and through my school years of rejection and unrequited love I felt very insecure and sure I was doomed to die alone with lots of cats. I guess I want to say to past-me and anyone who felt like her that miracles do happen!

Now I really must get some sleep so I can do him all over again tomorrow…

Okay, first of all ::internet high-fucking-five::

Now that that’s out of the way, I encourage everyone not to resist posting blatant references to how awesome their sex lives are. That is at least half of what ConTuesday exists for. There are few things more beautiful in this world than proving our self-loathing past selves wrong.

My crush told me about his fantasy:

he wanted to take me to his boxing ring and tie me up in the cage (honestly, I’m not sure what that looks like, but I don’t care), hands and feet. He then would have some fun on his knees before untying my legs. Then he would lift me up and fuck me against the cage.

My crush is a big, strong guy, and the thought of being tied up and at his mercy makes me weak in the knees. I hope we can make this happen.

I didn’t know that boxing rings had cages either, but I think it’s safe to say that this crush is mutual and hotness impends.

I just heard my mum and her boyfriend having sex and whilst I know I should be cool with her still having a sex life all my mind can do is go EW EW EW MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE LET THERE BE AN EARTHQUAKE SO THIS DOESN’T CONTINUE!

Also, I really just had to tell someone haha.

Just because we support an action doesn’t mean we want to be directly privy to it happening in real-time.

Earthquakes can be dangerous, though.

There’s this guy I know, see him around at gigs and parties, who has this hot rockabilly thing happening and wears this big cowboy hat sometimes.
All I can think about when I see him is him fucking me from behind and slapping me on the arse as he swings his big cowboy hat around.
Have. To. Make. This. Happen. Somehow.

It’s possible that walking up to him and saying that would be the most efficient way to go about this. But then again, I have no idea how cowboys’ minds work. None.

I’m going through a break up right now and I was talking with a friend about how to deal with sadness and loneliness. Top of the list: put on denim short-shorts and red and white polkadot bra. Admire sexy self in the mirror. Immediately have to un-zip short-shorts and employ vibrator. Tell QP about how amazing my orgasm was.

Quizzical Pussy fully endorses this post-breakup behavior.

My boyfriend and I have been gradually working towards anal, since before him I had no experience whatsoever. I don’t always feel like going through the whole rigamarole of breaking out the toys and taking the time to play, though… sometimes I just need him inside me.
So we haven’t played with the butt toys in a while, and this is a goal I want to reach for him, since it’s very clear that he’s way into it. I enjoy the play that we do but mostly because it turns him on so much, and while the combination of a plug in my ass and a vibrator on my clit can send me over the edge almost instantly, just something in my ass doesn’t really do it for me.
On the other hand it’s way hot when he’s fucking me and sticks a finger in my ass and almost instantly comes.
Yesterday, I had the day off and he didn’t, so I took some time out of the afternoon, pulled up some erotica on the laptop and masturbated until I was limp, then lubed up the toys and did some play on my own. I didn’t get any further than we had playing together, but considering how long it’s been since anything but his finger has been in my ass I count it as a victory.
I was planning on jumping him when he got home, but he was exhausted and went to bed really early, but he reads ConTuesday so maybe when this gets posted he’ll recognize me and jump me then.

Carpe nates, my friend!

So, I double dated with my roommate and her friend to meet a twenty-three year old, long haired liberal, unabashedly feminist physics grad student for the first time and we got Thai food. At first, I was really nervous and quiet like I usually am, but I gradually warmed up to him. He and I went back to my room and we watched a couple of Pirates of Penzance clips on YouTube before we ended up making out.

I have hickeys all over my neck. He was a tease through the entire thing. After my neck got a little sensitive, I asked him to hold down my hands while we made out. He grinned and then when I asked if that was a happy face, he pounced on me. Later on, when I asked him if I needed to move, he told me that he would move me where I needed to go. It was the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me. The great thing was when someone or something ruined the mood, we’d crack up and cuddle and talk about comics/politics/feminism/etc. for a while until we were ready to go again.

It was the best first date I’ve ever had. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow and I can’t wait to show my roommate the bruises. I knew I always liked older men for a reason.

First dates like this are the reason people hesitate to go on second dates in many cases. See, they believe this is possible, and they know they didn’t just experience it, and maybe it’s just a waste of time to try to build something solid on foundations that so obviously lack singing pirates and pixie dust. So really, you’re ruining it for everyone.

Ha, just kidding. ::internet high five::

Secrets for me? You should. You really should.

Share/Save

Today I’m in the mood for triumphant confessions. Maybe it’s the fact that the heat wave broke a little, wherever the fuck I live. Maybe it’s my fundamental drive to see people be happy. Or maybe it’s because I want to sex-brag myself sometimes, but that seems a little vulgar on my own blog.

Could be anything, really. I give you jubilation.

I fucked the locksmith who came to change my locks today. It was pretty much like the plot of a billion unimaginative porn movies. Except that he bought me lunch first. I’ve never seen lunch in a porno.

It was totally porn sex too, but in a good way. He had me bent into all sorts of positions, and he fucked my ass, which I love.

I never thought I was the sort of girl who could pull off a random lunch time hook-up with the delivery boy. I wasn’t even sure that such a thing existed outside of fiction. It was awesome, though.

This is known as “living the dream”! The locksmiths I’ve met personally are not… well, I wouldn’t…

Well I’m sure they’re lovely people, but not in my ass.

This week, two of my favourite fuck-buddies told me we can’t sleep together any more because they’re starting to fall for me. Part of me is sad that I don’t get to sleep with them anymore, but part of me is really flattered that they like me that much.

This is a Pyrrhic victory, of course, but it counts as a victory to be consistently too dreamy not to fall for.

I’ve been extremely ticklish all my life, to the point where anything even resembling a tickle anywhere on my body sent me into giggles. Turns out, this also means that it’s incredibly easy to give me an intense series of orgasms without even touching my breasts or genitals!

Orgasms through tickling, or orgasms through being the sensitive sort of person who can be tickled at the drop of a hat? I feel like this is an important distinction without knowing exactly why.

So, I can’t actually get myself off with my own fingers. It somehow seems like a lot of effort for something I know I can do just as well in half the time with one of my toys and a bit of lube. I’ve only actually ever come twice from manual stimulation: once during phone sex with a now-ex, where he told me what he wanted me doing and was talking me through what we’d be up to if we were together (super hot, incidentally) and the other was with my current boyfriend, who was laying next to me fucking a smooth vibrator into my bum as I rubbed my clit. It was also the first time I’d ever climaxed with anything anal going on, other than the presence of a plug we’d been using to work towards full on penetration. Awesome!

Awesome is right!

Ever since I first watched it as a little girl, the peacock’s dance in the Nutcracker: The Motion Picture has turned me on wildly. Sometimes I think it’s what got me into cages/bondage and anthropomorphism. Beautiful girls just get more beautiful with the addition of a long, flowing tail, in my opinion.

I haven’t been secretive about my long-standing grudge against the uncanny valley and my ambivalence over anthropomorphism, but then again, how does one argue with this?

I’ve been having sex with a girl who’s 7 years older then me recently. It’s hard finding new things that she hasn’t done, but even still I have found a few different things such as being tied up during sex, and she loves me exploring to find new magic spots. Can’t wait to find some more!

Flowing tails, maybe? Tying each other up with? Or cages.

I come whenever I’m riding in a car over the Queensboro Bridge. Literally, I have a little orgasm from the vibrations. I can’t even think about that bridge without getting aroused.

It’s the sexiest of bridges.

Or bridges. Goddamn, yes, bridges. Maybe there’s a reason they named this one after a Koch.

Confessions wanted.

Share/Save

I don’t often wax nostalgic about my sex life. So far in my life, sex builds on itself, getting better and better as I understand my body more and hate my body less and explore more facets of that ephemeral thing people call chemistry.

But there were moments. Numinous, they were. It cannot be denied that there were those moments. Little fairy lights that lace the past with unbearable sweetness: that’s how I want to remember my exes. My current, my future exes. May we all learn from the bad but remember the good.

I gave up my Much Younger Lover today. It’s mostly my own fault, I helped set him up with a great girl. They’re crazy for each other and it’s so cute to see. I’m happy for them, I really am, but my heart is tender and bruised. The sex was getting incredible. I mean crazy, mind blowing, screaming, gasping-for-breath incredible. Earlier this week when I fell asleep in his arms, I knew it was going to be so hard to give him up. I get to keep him as a friend though. If I had to give that up, I don’t know how I would manage. I can only hope he knows how much I’ve enjoyed our affair, how grateful I am for his discretion, how he gave me back parts of my self I thought were irretrievably lost, and how I will never forget him.

I think this is the classiest, most mature shit I have ever read about any illicit affair. I have never said this, but I think you may have actually done cheating right.

Not that I’m endorsing cheating. Just selfless love, mostly.

I broke up with my boyfriend. I have cried more than him. The thing is, I know that it kills right now but five years from now he’s still going to be the same person essentially and I will be leaps and bounds ahead.

I wish that he used our breakup as a turning point to realize his life is taking some bad turns.

He’ll figure out what he needs to figure out when he’s ready, and not a minute sooner. You can always count on people for that. In the meantime, go be awesome!

I feel silly saying this because there’s many more important things that I lost as a result of my recent breakup, but here goes in a secret place: I am worried I will not find someone as sexually compatible as he was with me. There were some issues towards the end re: mismatched libidos, but otherwise, we were excellent together in bed and I was totally comfortable with asking for everything I wanted and giving him everything he wanted. I liked his openness.

This is particularly related to his being a bisexual boy who wanted me to fuck his ass. Not sure where I’ll find that anytime soon, in high school.

If all else fails, college holds the rich promise of bisexual boys, boys who like to be fucked in the ass, and a capella groups with names that are also puns.

Is there another reason people go to college?

This happened years ago but one weekend of too much party time I had sex with four guys starting Saturday morning until Sunday afternoon. It was the most embarrassing and demeaning thing I have ever done, but I was in a perpetual state of arousement. As much as I was humiliated by what transpired I constantly orgasmed. Once I was naked I stayed that way and was constantly used and abused by these four boys. I gave oral sex to all of them several times and subjected to anal sex often as well as intercouse. I was sexually satisfied while as many as three of them violated me at the same time. There were possitions I was put in I had never thought possible and was constantly displayed to them in the most degrading ways. It only happened that one time and it happened ten years ago. When it took place and for many months afterwards I was totally mortified every time I saw any of those boys. Years later when I thought about the things they did to me it all the sudden had an arousing afftect I still today masturbate thinking about it. I think now that it was the most satisfying sexual experience in my life. The number of orgasms I experienced that weekend is astounding.

I may be mistaken, but it seems like this was a completely consensual experience, right? The word choices are confusing me, but that’s what I’m getting from it.

When I’m especially sad, my fantasies always turn subby. It’s not a bad coping mechanism, and actually it’s a pretty good way of tracking my depression. For the last couple of months, most of my fantasies were about kind but stern random people fucking me and beating me up. Wanking helped me relax and kept my thoughts away from the mess that is my life, but it didn’t make me happier.

Yesterday, when I was alone in the house, I locked myself in the bathroom with some vague background music, and had an epic, four-hours-long (later I transferred to the bedroom), extremely detailed fantasy about an ex-bf, my roommate, several fictional characters (including Kaylee Fry and Dr Tachyon) and the guy I currently like. I was kind but stern and I fucked them and beat them up. They worshipped me and we discussed ethics and at some points I was some sort of deity.

It was amazing. I came several times and I’m still feeling the aftershocks of euphoria. And best of all – my depression’s dissipating again! Hah!

Tonight I think I’ll be a pillaging pirate. (And tomorrow? I’m taking the guy I like to the movies.)

Imagination is the best way to engage sexually with exes. And vikings. And Dr. Tachyon. Whoever that is.

I am afraid that the combination of my inability to maintain strong boundaries and the partners I’ve had who have taken every inch they could get is destroying my ability to be sexual and enjoy my own fantasies.

There are people out there who aren’t douchebags. I just want you to know that. Maybe focus on regaining your trust in yourself for now? Past partners have no claim on your sexuality or your fantasies unless you invite them.

I lost my virginity on the floor of my bedroom the week before my 18th birthday. It was by girlfriend at the time’s birthday present to me. We started on the couch and made it all the way upstairs, but not quite into bed. I (not so) secretly wish that I could have sex that was literally all over the house again.

There are some moment from our sexual histories we really can’t revisit. This one? Seems more or less doable. Get thee to a couch, why don’t you?

Sex Confessional

Share/Save