quizzical pussy

I think it’s pretty well documented that I have no idea when people are attracted to me. They actually have to not only tell me, but also have sex with me for it to (ahem) penetrate, and even then it’s dubious for me. This means that I just go around assuming no one is attracted to me until there’s overwhelming evidence to the contrary. This isn’t because I think I’m ugly, or can’t conceive of anyone finding me attractive; it just kind of doesn’t occur to me one way or the other because I’m pathologically dense about these things.

But I can usually tell at a glance when tendrils of attraction are budding between two people who both aren’t me. That’s easy. They glow neon lilac and my pinkie nails start to vibrate.

At particular times of the month, I find myself inexplicably attracted to male friends of mine who have large families. I can think of a few who are fathers of three or four, whom their adored wives look after at home, with the smallest (it comes out as ‘latest’ in my head) on their hip whilst they pack the others off to school. This is not something I want, at all, and I don’t fantasise about being in that position, nor do I have any of the more typical ‘breeding fetish’ ideals… it seems to be that my hormones just SUDDENLY direct me to be turned on by demonstrably virile men for like two days a month. I can accurately calculate my cycle by keeping a track on when these people pop up in fantasies. It’s most disconcerting.

Hormones are terrifying, dude, and I’m not just saying that because mine make me suicidal sometimes.

I knew for years that we weren’t sexually compatible, but I stayed anyway. I adored her brain. I still do adore her brain. But I’m so not into her body or sex with her, and it’s been an ongoing struggle for me–especially since she frequently professed how hot she thinks I am.

We broke up on new years day, and I feel…awesome. I feel awesome and then terrible about that, because how can I feel awesome when I broke her heart? She’s my best friend, I shouldn’t feel awesome if she feels terrible.

We were nominally poly, and the guy I’ve been seeing hasn’t made a move at all beyond kissing. I kind of suspect I’m never getting laid again. Ugh.

Oh, you’ll get laid again. My pinkie nails are going crazy just thinking about it.

I am turned on by Amy Wong, on Futurama. I want to put my mouth to that cute little bare midriff of hers, and see where things go.

Even more of a turn-on, though, is the character Nani, from Lilo & Stitch. Her strong thighs and broad hips, small breasts, wide-set eyes and non-traditional nose all get to me in ways that I shouldn’t let a cartoon affect me. I have more than once fapped hard to her image on the inside of my head.

I’m sorry your love can never be.

I went from a years-long dry spell to getting flogged and kissed and beaten and fucked and tied up and such on a regular basis, and oh my god, it’s amazing. I was all repressed and sad and lonely for so long, and now people want to have sex with me and do other stuff too! I’m so much happier and more comfortable in my skin now that it’s ridiculous. It’s making me consider going to my 10-year reunion just so I can feel smug about how great my sex life is.

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I don’t know if I qualify as kinky. I don’t think about it much, to be honest. I mean, sure I like rough sex in the right context. Okay, actually I really love rough sex in the right context. And I just masturbated while watching Criminal Minds ((Which I feel is distinct from masturbating TO Criminal Minds, but still…), but I don’t know whether kinky is the right word or not. Some of you guys are  definitely kinky, though, you magnificent creatures, you.

My girlfriend and her husband are having loud kinky sex in the next room, right this minute.
They took a break a few minutes ago, and asked me to bring them some water.

This is pretty great, I think. I’ve had threesomes with them before, and I’m sure I will again. But sometimes it’s just nice knowing that we’re all so comfortable with each other that they can ask me to fetch things for them while they’re fucking.

I always have a water bottle at the ready, but you can’t have a threesome with a water bottle.

Although you kind of can…

I’m currently in a happy triad with an adorable, inquisitive budding sadist girl and an awesome man (the first guy I’ve ever been in a relationship with) who makes me stupid in ways I hadn’t thought possible.
Thing is… The sex is incredible, the conversations fascinating and entertaining and fun. He reads me scary well, knows me too well for only having known each other four months.
I think I’m falling for him, well and truly, and am half terrified of this. I don’t do the forever thing I’ve barely done the relationhip thing, and it’s not really an option for us anyway.
I’m leavng this place in a few months, and am currently attempting to work out a way to deal with the possibility of sub frenzy after I go (did i mention the subby masochistic part?). I know he’ll try and help me work that out, we have a mutual friend that will be leaving with me and will probably be the one to help. But I have no idea how to have this conversation, deal with the emotions or gods forbid even tell him what I’m feeling for him. Let alone how to deal with the fact that I don’t feel near as strongly for the girl we’re seeing.

So basically you’re going to learn a fuckton from all this, is what I’m reading.

I love your blog! I love the sex positive writing and how inclusive you are. I just put myself out there where my sexuality is concerned. I decided to post on Craigslist for a dom. I mean, this is a huge step for me, having always been a goodie two shows, repressing my need for submission, bondage and spanking. I was impressed by the responses. I am just going to let things unfold. Take the necessary precautions and see where it goes!

::Internet high five:: for you! Because you are a boss to go after what you want like this.

I’m a young male who’s just getting into kink; a brief but intense relationship I was in with a delightfully masochistic young lady woke up my dormant love of handcuffs and painplay, and though I sort of banked those urges when we went our separate ways a couple of years ago, I’ve found them quickly starting to re-emerge over the last little while. At this point I’m more comfortable with my leanings towards BDSM than ever before, and while I’m not actively searching for a relationship right now, I’m getting a better and better idea of what it is I’ll be looking for when I start to do so.

But I still had to suppress an embarrassed chuckle when I found myself standing in front of the rack of canes at the local drugstore, eying them contemplatively. Too thick. . . too short. . . got weird feet on it. . . ooh, that looks interesting – no, too expensive. . . I think my mutterings may have worried the nice older gentleman standing next to me a little. Sorry, Gramps!

So I guess I don’t actually have much to confess, except that I’m gradually getting more and more comfortable with the kind of sex I want. And hey, by all means tell me if you have recommendations for a favorite impact toy, because my subconscious is apparently in the market!

Hey, everybody, suggest impact toys!

I want to become an advocate for BDSM to teach people that’s its perfectly normal if its done consensually but I haven’t come out to anybody but my boyfriend about my kinks.

Coming out is super personal, and I’m confident you’ll get there when the time is right.

When I was a kid, from a very very young age I was absurdly uncomfortable (irrationally angry, turning red, squirming in my seat) whenever anyone had the hiccups. This was a problem when watching a lot of cartoons, or even in middle school and high school when in a class I couldn’t leave…

Until I was a year into my first serious relationship, 19 years old, having just started to be sexual and FINALLY learning to identify my own desire and arousal. Then suddenly I realized that I hated the hiccups so much because I was insanely, uncontrollably turned on.

Uncontrollably turned on when my boyfriend gets hiccups after eating spicy food too quickly? Awesome. Uncontrollably turned on when drunk friends get them? Awesome deposit for the fantasy bank. Uncontrollably turned on when my parents, siblings or babysitting kids/preschool students get them? REALLY, REALLY NOT AWESOME.

It’s not like I am particularly drawn to the person who has the hiccups; when someone I don’t like or someone inappropriate for my attentions has them, I just ignore the arousal. But it’s still INCREDIBLY uncomfortable. I am so glad I don’t have a penis or this would be so much worse.

This was fascinating. That’s pretty much what I have to offer here.

Coming here now hurts.

I started reading here a couple of years ago and love the ConTues. I have, over and over again, typed into the comment box below your posts. But I leave before I hit submit.

I want to come out here about my poly and BDSM. I recognize a few of the people that comment here and I deeply long to be accepted by them, but I also know that they would recognize me and then this would be nothing but negative.

I think I need the therapy of talking to people and QP would be a fantastic place to do that. Unfortunately for me that wont work.

Thanks for listening QP. I wish I could trust enough to comment on your excellent posts.

I wish you felt free to comment here. I feel like I should point out the extreme “glass house” position of people who come and read and comment and confess on quizzical pussy. I mean, clearly there here for a reason too; I wonder why you’re so sure they’d judge you, but I don’t know your situation. All I can do is fervently hope that you find an outlet to talk about this stuff. My email address is here if you want it.

I started dating a good friend and a housemate of mine that I’ve been crushing on for about a year. About a month ago, I ended up telling him about the crushing and his immediate response (which was, btw, the most flattering thing that’s ever happened to me) was to offer to break up with his (now ex) girlfriend and start dating me. So he did, and we are and I lost my virginity two days later.

It was awesome :) He and I have always talked a lot about sex and about our mutual kinks, so I feel completely comfortable talking to him about pretty much anything. We’ve tried some light bondage already (we’re working our way up and I’m going to buy a pair of handcuffs soon), I’m learning to deep throat, he’s learning to talk dirty and let his dom side out. Anyway, it’s amazing and right now I have some lovely, tender bruises on my boobs and am a little sore in the best possible way from being bent in half and fucked into my bed. Just wanted to share that my life is awesome right now, even though the sex is distracting me from school a little bit.

::Internet high five::! I can’t even explain how much I love it when I get “my life is awesome right now” confessions, and I love the sheer variety of ways people find to make their lives awesome even more, if that’s possible.

Anyway, confess stuff.

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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.

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Better late than never.

QP, this isn’t a confession, but please, PLEASE tell us how you met all your awesomekinky friends. I so want to live this life. I feel like I’m wasting mine – live with my parents, never had a long-term relationship, masturbating so much my clit is officially pushing up the daisies… I’m fucked-up and kinky and interested in all sorts of cool things and I want to meet other fucked-up kinky interesting people! With blue hair!

Tips? Should I get into theater or something? Should I move to Seattle? I heard Seattle has a great poly/kink scene. I dunno, probably I’m just stereotyping people and I need to be more open-minded. But I still can’t help thinking I want to find a cute butch girl and fall in love and use a feeldoe. How does one find other people who might be interested in such things?

My greatest talent may be recruiting amazing people onto my team. Okay, I actually can’t take a lot of credit for this because most of the time I don’t know how it happens or how I could have possibly deserved it. I can tell you, though, some of the major things I changed in my life between having a lot of the problems you have and now.

So, you’re trying to build a ridiculously awesome phalanx of glorious freaks. Here are my tips for you.

1. Become the kind of person you want to hang out with. Ideally, this will have the primary benefit of making sure you’re always in marvelous company, even if you’re alone. As a side benefit, the kind of people you want in your life will sense that you’re their kind of people. Interested in cool things? Do as many of those cool things as you can. Like people with killer style and flamboyant hair? Maybe you’d like yourself with those things. And if you don’t already, figure out how to love yourself.
2. Find the others. The internet will help you immeasurably here. I have friends and loved ones that I met at events I found on Fetlife (sign up if you haven’t, and don’t look for people as hard as you look for local events), through OkCupid (sign up if you haven’t, answer lots and lots of match questions, and pay attention to match/friend/enemy percentages. They aren’t perfect, but they’re indicative of like-mindedness and compatibility), and through mutual friends. If you’re a fan of something (particularly gaming or science fiction) try to find a convention you can go to; geeks are very often deviants. Some of my kinky friends I’ve known over a decade; some are recent additions. Some grew up a few miles away from me; some were born a continent away. They’re everywhere, people like you. We’re hiding everywhere in plain sight.
3. When you find people like you, be open. Share yourself with them, be interested in them. Care about them. Help them and accept help. Be an awesome friend to them because you’re lucky to have found each other.
4. Live life as much on your own terms as possible. If you feel that your current living situation is restricting you and it’s in your power to change it, do so. If you’ve explored what counterculture your current area offers and found it lacking, go elsewhere if you can. Go to Seattle if that idea speaks to you. Try new things. Take chances. Experiment a great deal. Look like an idiot sometimes.

Anxious-type confession.

Today was a day I was pretty damn bad at the sexy. Messed about in the shower this morning and couldn’t manage to please the penis of the penis-owner with whom I was messing about. Hands didn’t work (I pulled. Like accidentally HAULED on that sucker.), mouth didn’t work (I am ashamed to admit that I unintentionally bit), slippery soapy grinding, nope (kept staggering, having various limbs in uncomfortable positions etcetera). It made me sad.

And on top of that I’ve taken my first-ever birth-control pill in preparation for my first round of PIV sex so I will not be making of the babies, and I’m freaking the fuck out about all the horrible things that the hormones might do to my body… or worse, my libido.

Insert kinda sad face.

I hope your body likes the hormones and the penis pleasing is coming along nicely and happy face.

So, not terribly juicy, but I have had a crush on a certain someone since I was too young to know what a crush even was. First person I’d ever thought about kissing, and even throughout a very happy marriage to somebody else, extremely attracted and all weird with blushiness whenever we spoke.
FINALLY, after 26 years of waiting, in a position to maybe start a relationship, and he took up smoking.

What a colossal WASTE of TWENTY-SIX years of anticipation, because all that attraction gone.

Dear smokers: I’m starting to suspect you’d have more fun if you quit.

Love,

Quizzical Pussy

I’ve recently discovered that nothing turns me on faster than having my partner pin me down while he fucks me. During sex, oral, even masturbating by myself, it’s just… damn. I’m not a very muscly person, and generally speaking, having concrete evidence of how much stronger than me somebody is kind of freaks me out. But for some reason, with him it just makes me feel completely safe and loved. Also short-of-breath and tingly in the nether regions, but that almost feels like a side benefit.

Sweet Horus, I love being pinned down (by the right person). I’m not sure “safe” and “loved” are my key words on that one so much as “aroused”, but this is adorable.

I love it when I drag the ridge on the corona of my cock against her G spot as I’m on the upstroke. When I first started sex, I thought that the upstroke was a lost stroke, only good for getting some negative space to fill, and grind that clit with my pubis.

Now? I know that the Out stroke is as good as the In stroke, near enough.

I feel like I just learned something about having a non-silicone penis.

So I’ve recently figured out this whole squirting thing, and am pretty sure I could adequately direct a partner to get me to squirt. Problem is, I don’t want to. Know that whole “ladies you feel like you’re going to pee but that’s just your orgasm building up” business? Welp, for me, it’s not just the orgasm. Sometimes a dribble of urine comes out on the first orgasm. I have no way of telling when it will happen. And I really don’t want to gross out any of my primary partners.

Squirting is novel at first, and the orgasm is really good, yeah, but–urine or not– some of us still prefer not to make that huge of a wet spot. I mean, I get that it’s not a choice for a lot of people, but for me it mostly is, and I don’t try for it very often. My body my choice, dagnabbit.

While my boyfriend and I were getting ready to go to bed, like we do every night, he started crying because he was half-afraid I was a dream and he would wake up. I grabbed a box of tissues and held him until he stopped shaking.

And I realized neither of us give a fuck about gender norms.

I have this theory that giving a fuck about gender norms really limits the amount of soul-crushingly cute one can be. This is my impression of you and your boyfriend:

Hey. Confess stuff.

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You know how they say that whenever God closes a door he opens a window? Well, I don’t believe in God, and open windows are rarely so convenient as doors for ingress or egress, so I would maybe invest in some lock-picking equipment or something instead.

My boyfriend of two years had to move away for work, and I had to stay behind, for various reasons. Money, mainly.

The last night before he left, instead of having crazy wild monkey sex like I had planned, I wound up crying all over him.

Now he’s gone and we won’t have crazy monkey sex for at least a month, till I can go visit him.

My confession is that I feel guilty that I didn’t make out last night together sexy and happy. And my resolution is that when I see him again, I’ll make that night sexy and happy. Hopefully he’ll see this and recognize me, and know that I’m sorry for being a nut job about it.

It took me a really long time to even halfway learn that being emotionally vulnerable with someone and crying in front of them can actually be a positive thing, but I’m starting to think it might actually not be bullshit (extra points if you’re dating a dacryphiliac).

He kept pressuring me for the number of guys I’d slept with. I insisted that there was never any good outcome to answering that question, that I wasn’t going to tell him. But after the third time he asked I finally told him that he was the second. Even though he’d sworn he wouldn’t judge me, he took it kinda weird. We never had sex again. I wonder if the number had something to do with it, and if I’d just kept refusing to tell him, we might have kept going.

When we had fucked, he’d told me he really loved how much of a slut I was. But the low number had nothing to do with prudishness; I was so up for being his slut.

I’m annoyed with myself for not keeping my mouth shut.

I’m annoyed with this stupid guy who started treating you differently simply because you said the wrong number out loud. What a steaming douchekettle.

not exactly a sex confession, but – my partner and I just came to a decision that next month we want to quit birth control and start trying for a baby. we’ve both wanted kids for a while, and it seems like now the time is right, and I’m so excited! I just had to share with someone. :D

I think this is the weirdest fucking kink I’ve ever encountered in a confession, but I’m happy you’re happy…

Just kidding. Go make a new person, you crazy kids.

Love your blog, second time confessing, thanks for posting my confession last time!

I cut contact on my abusive ex sometime last summer and have been looking for a casual fling ever since. I was pretty hung up on the ex and I am also pretty picky so it was difficult to peruse potential partners and find any appealing.

Then, suddenly, this awesome guy fell into my lap. He is super fabulous, respectful, kinky and we are great friends outside of the bedroom too. I’m very lucky and I’m now having really awesome sex with a really awesome guy and life is grand. He doesn’t want to treat me like shit or domesticate me. He just wants to be friends and fuck.

*happy dance*

::Internet high five:: all the way.

Recently, an old friend got back in touch with me. When I first met her at work, she was going out with a very controlling man, and during many a lunch break she and I talked about that. We became friends. For some reason, although I was a very hetero mid-20’s male who was aware of her mid-20’s hotness, I decided to try to preserve our friendship even after she broke up with the guy. I never made a move on her during our years of knowing each other, even when we both were unattached.

I got married. My friend got attached to a great guy, and they and my wife and I would double-date. It was fun. After one such outing, I had a mini-intervention with her about her recreational abuse of prescription drugs. The next time that I called, she had changed her phone number, moved, changed her job, and cut all ties. We didn’t talk again for over 10 years.

Recently, she friended me on Facebook and started talking. I chatted with her on the phone, glad to interact with my old friend, but leery of possible flakiness. Finally, I confronted her about her disappearing act. She finally came clean: “Look, I’ve had a crush on you since we first met. I carried a torch for you the whole time we hung out. Then you got married, and I didn’t know what to do. When you came down on me over the pills, I just bailed.”

Could have knocked me over with a feather.

QP, I need you to understand: she was WAY out of my league. Her body, her face, her education– she had it all over me. She had men at her beck and call. All she would have had to do was tell me. I’d have been there. The sex would have been epic.

But I’m a married man. She seems to still have issues. Time to move on. I unfriended her.

“For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, ‘It might have been’.” -John Greenleaf Whittier

If we unfriended everyone on Facebook who wanted to bone us, we’d have very pared down news feeds indeed. But sometimes these things are unavoidable.

There is a gorgeous boi who has wandered into my life of late; she’s smart, driven, radiantly positive and kind, but that’s not all: we write long e-mails full of allusions to wanting to gently and consensually maul each other when we can’t spend time in person, and she completely rocks a bow tie. If all goes well, by the time this letter winds up in a ConTuesday post, there will have been some gentle and consensual mauling and I will be one happy, slightly vibrating boy.

You guys know I’m not often overtly creepy about confessions, but if you’re into sharing you should give her my number.

My husband and I have been together almost four years now and I only just got the courage last week to use lube. Using lube shouldn’t take courage, but I guess I’m still working on communication and paying attention to what my body wants. It generally takes me a while to get really aroused, so we kind of force things at times. The lube helped SO much, though, and now I’m gaining confidence. Yay better sex!

This is awesome and you totally deserve an ::internet high five::!

Sex Confessional

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Life feels so much better when it doesn’t get dark at 5pm and the trees are starting to eat again and when you send me your deepest, darkest secrets.

I fucked my wife at her mother’s house the other day, and she kept hushing me and trying to stop the headboard from thumping. Admitedly, the next guest room over was her older brother’s bedroom, and this was early morning. Dammit, I want that headboard to thump the wall so hard that no one in the house will make eye contact for the first hour that we’re up!

Have you considered the possibility that the hushed, surreptitious nature of the sex may have added to the hotness for your wife? Because I’m considering that right now and it seems like it could potentially be legit.

I was the first poster here. Oh guess what? He was fucking guys behind my back the whole time and lying about it.

Cheating shows an appalling lack of creativity.

my best girl had her final chemo treatment 3 weeks ago (she’s free and clear and clean for now, thank everything!) and in celebration of that, she let all of her hair grow back; head, underarms, bikini and all. turns out, due to some body chemistry changes, all her hair is growing back colorless–completely white. she always used to shave before, but i’m so enamored with her healthiness wonderful self that i’ve discovered that i absolutely love her fuzzy gorgeousness. now our latest sexy euphemism is usually something along the lines of “snow white meets the 7-inch dwarf!”

There’s the creativity I was looking for, and I hope your girl recovers like a boss.

I got tacit approval.
I want to use it. I’ve a wonderful, delicious, incredibly alluring potential partner, who wants to engage in peaceful, safe, harmless sex that we know could await us. It would be epic.

But if I have to lie about it, then it feels like cheating. And that’s the thing: my spouse said, when I got the approval: ”If you ever do it with anyone else, I don’t want to know about it. Just don’t bring home any diseases.”

I can’t lie to my spouse. I’m in this relationship forever.

I will also regret, forever, not doing this.

Integrity? Or loss of incredible, explorative, loving, meaningful sex?

It’s not that I’m disturbed by non-monogamy. I’m disturbed by non-straight-forward sincerity, with my spouse. Just because my life mate is mostly non-attentive sexually does not mean that I may make presumptions.

This sucks. I want a do-over.

I don’t get don’t ask/don’t tell relationships. Will someone explain them to me? Does anyone have an relationship configured this way that they consider emotionally healthy? I am trying to imagine it and it just seems avoidant, but maybe I’m missing something.

Plus, you miss out on all those hot recaps and squeeing together after dates and stuff.

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 not run into this, but I definitely see how it could be frustrating. Any advice, quizkids?

I left a confession about 3 months ago disclosing that I had managed to orchestrate a friends with benefits deal with a friend for many years. We tried sex on psychotropics (LSD) and had an incredible time (she felt like a Dianic sex-goddess, and I had an incredible full body orgasm).

More recently though we bought a feeldoe (I linked her to your various feeldoe posts which met with great approval) and have had a lot of fun incorporating that into our play. Unfortunately neither of us feel comfortable bragging about our feeldoe play to any of our real-life friends (who would pass judgment on us – prudes) but luckily on the internet you are here to brag to QP(!).

At one point I had her insert the feeldoe and wear it out whilst we had dinner at a local dining establishment. Afterwards as we walked home to my place we found a nice dark alley and I gave her long passionate blowjob and jerked her off whilst she grabbed my hair and stroked my head as I sucked her. Then she reciprocated the blowjob whilst stroking her cock. When we got home we fucked for ages and I came a second time with such intensity that I could barely remain standing.

I must brag also about what a perfect match we are; the fact that after exposing her to futanari pornography that she loves it as much as I do, even identifies and longs for that body type. And just thinking about that makes me hard for her. As a bisexual cis-male that notion is to me the best possible thing in existence and I love talking dirty to her and walking her through the male sexual response whilst we both jerk each other off.

We’re still hoping to find a willing female partner to have a threesome with, and we’re looking at buying the feeldoe stout to add to the collection and give us more options when it comes to strapless cocks.

Okay, wait wait wait. This is some motherfucking creativity. Also, I now want to use my feeldoe while on acid. Badly.

This last summer, prompted by both your urging and my recent breakup, I bought my very first dildo on BAST day! It is rather classy, opaque black glass, voluptuous and slick-smooth and ohmygod I love it…
And I rather surprised myself by discovering an oral use for it… One of my favorite submissive fantasies is being fucked by one man while another holds me down and makes me suck his cock. Quite often I will get out my new toy, and it never makes it to my pussy, because even having something even vaguely penis-shaped filling my mouth (in addition to my usual manual method) is enough to give me a more intense, trembling and breathless orgasm than I ever had before.
So, thank you for convincing me to buy a sex toy… Best Purchase Ever. :-)
(though I may have to invest in something softer for my oral fixation… one of these times I may get carried away and chip a tooth…)

This is so awesome that I will light a phallic candle for your continued dental health.

Stats: Cisgender, black, pansexual, early-20something female.

I consider this a breakthrough. It isn’t big, but it could lead to big things, so I’m counting it as such. Here goes:

So I’ve been concerned about the way I’ve always masturbated. Not because I have any issue with getting myself off (far from it) or because it was unusual in any way (ditto), but rather because I had gotten so comfy with the position over the years (on my back, legs locked straight, index fingertip rubbing the left side of the clit) that I found it flat-out impossible to get off any other way.

Until last night! I was still on my back with my legs locked, but I used my middle fingertip this time, and it actually worked (I had tried other times a bit halfheartedly with no success). Such a small difference, but it’s progress! And though it might have just been the novelty of the situation, I felt that when I came, my spasms were slightly stronger than usual. I’ll have to do a side-by-side comparison to see. *puts on lab coat and goggles*

My master plan: Practice getting proficient with each finger on my right hand (the hand I’ve always used). Then do the same with the left. Then try multiple fingers and/or different motions. Then change the position of my legs. Then try to get off my back (I’ve always wanted to be able to do it sitting up on my knees). Then mix and match various fingers, hands and positions. Then (and this is a biggie) shift from pelvic passive to pelvic active if I can.

I’ve also considered how this might affect partnered sex and intercourse. And how toys might add to the mix … but one thing at a time. Don’t wanna jump ahead of myself. I’ve never felt so on fire with my own body’s possibilities.

Wish me luck! I love your blog!

Wishing you lots of luck! One thing I have noticed about people is that we usually figure out what (if anything) gets us off one way or another. We’re phenomenal that way. We’re not always honest about it, we don’t always like the fact that it gets us off, and it might take some of us a very long time to figure it out. But we eventually figure out all or most of the things, given enough heartbeats.

Or do we?

Confess.

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Can we just talk for a minute about how hard it was for me to go through last week without a new episode of Rupaul’s Drag Race? Because it was moderately difficult, and I also may have strep throat. Again. But I see now that the logo website has uploaded last night’s episode now, so I can watch it whenever I like. Which will be soon because I’m not getting out of bed until I absolutely have to.

Someone invent a bathtub bed immediately! And bring drag queens and epsom salt, please.

The thing about boarding school is that someone might just drive up next to you while you’re trying to have sex with your boyfriend outside in the grass. Whoops.

I feel like this would be as dire a hazard if I’d tried to have sex in the grass outside my public high school as well, but maybe I’m missing something…

I just got a new roommate. He’s tall and cute and has an accent. We cooked dinner together today and he stood just a little too close the whole time. He would sort of brush by me, barely touching my ass with his arm. I know that having sex with roommates is dangerous business, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to.

You guys are totally going to do it. I get enough confessions in which people bemoan that they’re not having sex with their roommates (isn’t that more or less what a partner becomes after the sex dries up?) that this is novel.

Anti-anxiety meds are awesome! Except they make me take twice as long to come without affecting my sex drive, and given that my libido’s a fairly ravenous beast, this has been… less than fun, shall we say. Couldn’t even be certain I’ll be able to get myself off for a while, which was kinda awful for me.

And do you know what helped? Fantasizing about someone used sexually and prevented from coming. Ah, my contrary brain, I heart you so when you’re not been a panic-attack prone dick.

Yay for managing anxiety!

Sometimes when I’m masturbating I imagine finally– finally– being sexual sated for a while. It’s one of those fantasies that I’m well aware will never happen, like sex in space.

i want to send you a confession, but i have a problem. it involves a very specific set of circumstances and those involved read contuesdays, something for which i can only blame myself. so, instead i just lie here, naked in bed, frustrated but unable to confesss why, reading sexy confessions and wanting to add my two cents to the confessions, yet unable to do so and so getting more frustrated…. if this goes on much longer i might explode :P
but on the other hand i now understand why some people like being sexually frustrated, of course it does make paying attention to lectures at uni a little more difficult…

Okay, you guys. It is only polite to pretend you don’t know who submitted ConTuesday confessions, even if you totally know. (It’s also polite to pretend that I’m a sex goddess and everyone wants to do me, but that’s unrelated.)

I used the Cardiograph app on my phone to watch my heart rate as I brought myself to orgasm and then came down from it. Science is fun!

As if graphs weren’t erotic enough on their own!

I’ve known I was kinky since I was 12, but I just had the best sexfest EVER with a guy who’s totally new to BDSM. He didn’t let that stop him; I’m pretty sure he didn’t even let that slow him down, because he did things to me I didn’t even realize were possible and not just like, mythical things people who claimed they had good sex lied about. New guy’s completely recalibrated all my sexual barometers, is what I’m saying. We had sex so many times over the course of three days that by the end, neither of us could really even get aroused any more, much less orgasm.

That’s not really the confession, because, well, it was great but it’s not juicy. The confession is that my long-term ex who previously held the #1 position–well, he recently said some truly shitty stuff to me and I had to cut off contact with him entirely–and now I’m very tempted to get revenge. New guy seems to be way more awesome, and he’s nine billion times better in bed (rough estimate). Ex couldn’t fuck me for longer than 20 seconds without premature ejaculation (seriously), was too lazy to ever explore more than the ‘usual’ bdsm stuff I specifically asked for, and his dick was tiny and he hated oral and basically, he was a lazy fuck.

I am extremely, EXTREMELY tempted to send a text to my ex that says: So sorry, you have been DOWNGRADED. All those times I said you were good in bed? I realize I was unintentionally lying, because I’ve now experienced truly transcendental fucking. Have fun finding someone who’s willing to overlook your tiny quick fucking-selfishness, because I would rather just revisit my memories of the guy I just met than ever see you again.

Unfortunately, that’s way too long for a text. Suggestions on how to cut it down? :P

You know how they say that living well is the best revenge? Fucking well is specifically excellent in that regard. If you tell your ex any of this, though, it’ll give him an excuse to forget you cut off contact. I’m sure you know this because, well, you’re saying it here.

Also, why haven’t you lost that jerk’s phone number, though?

I have a great (open) relationship with my boyfriend.

I also love my friend, and he loves me. Platonically. Yes, platonic love is a real thing, not a euphemism. He’s not my type, sexually, and I’m not his. But I yearn over him, every thing I think or experience I imagine what he would say, the sight of him unhappy is devastating, and his company may be my favorite thing in the world.

I don’t know if this is disloyal to my boyfriend, or totally crazy, or what. But I can’t pretend it’s not the case. I think of my friend and I as Heloise and Abelard, though hopefully with a less gruesome outcome.

Your friendship makes me smile and I think its awesome. I think Heloise and Abelard were kind of each other’s type sexually, but I don’t know. I’m wrong sometimes.

My boyfriend and I have been together for two and a half years, but the last year has been horrible. We haven’t been having sex very often–maybe once or twice a month. And I’ve tried talking to him about it (because, frankly, that’s not enough for me). But last week he says that he’s by sex and that he doesn’t ever feel aroused. But, those sound like two different things to me. I really want to fix things between us. He just shuts down when I try to talk to him. I don’t know what to do.

People scattered all over the world are noticing the missing word and going “He’s what by sex?” but I guess it doesn’t really change the gist of the confession. I hate telling people to nuke their relationships because it seems so myopic, but if you’ve been miserable for an entire year? And he’s not talking to you except to tell you that he doesn’t want to have anything like the sex life you want to have? I’m really sorry, but what are you actually trying to save?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch drag queens bicker.

Confess.

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I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but marriage equality is kind of a big deal in the United States this week. Today the U.S. Supreme Court heard a case challenging Proposal 8, a law that delegalized same-sex marriage in California. Tomorrow the court hears another case challenging the hilariously-named Defense of Marriage Act. If these laws are successfully overturned, the government will have slightly but significantly caught up with the reality that anyone worth their trace minerals already understands: Civil rights are non-negotiable, no matter whom one thinks one’s sky daddy is mad at.

So here’s a ConTuesday all about the manifold ways different people are doing– or want to do– marriage. Can we stop pretending it does– or is even supposed to– mean just one thing?

I don’t want to come out as a lesbian to my closed-minded conservative family until I’m married to my amazeballs girlfriend. Because then they won’t be able to dismiss my romantic/sexual orientation as “just a phase”. Because then they will have to deal with the fact that the government considers my relationship as real and important as my parents’ 25 year marriage. Because it’ll piss them off SO MUCH harder. ;)

At a certain point people are just choosing to be pissed off, and it’s our prerogative to troll the shit out of them by being fabulously, blissfully happy.

About two years ago, I met a man and, at the time, there was some serious flirtation and obvious sexual chemistry. It was a one time deal (meeting him. nothing happened.) or so I thought.

Fast forward about a year and this man ends up being my kids soccer coach. I see him all the time at functions, some of which include alcohol (fund-raisers with no kids present). Conversations have gotten more and more sexual. Flirting has gotten more blatant. Offers have been made. Through the magic of social media and it being socially expected that you ”add” everyone you know, I’ve come to realize our kinks mesh perfectly and he is likely a ”swinger”. I too am in an open marriage, which he is not aware of, although I know he suspects it.

Now the conundrum…what to do? Whenever I meet someone I’m very attracted to my fantasies tend to revolve around pleasing them in very specific ways. It would be easy enough to make the offer and give him head he’d never forget. We’d both love it and I don’t think it would be an issue for either of our spouses. I know it wouldn’t be for mine. However, what if we were found out? To say the proverbial shit would hit the fan would be an understatement. This is a big part of the reason I have resisted telling him that my husband and I have an open marriage, despite the fact that he’s asked.

I know I shouldn’t let it happen. I know it could blow up and be a very bad situation. But, every time we’re together and he catches me alone or we put ourselves in a situation where we have a bit of privacy, I can’t help but think how easy, and how incredibly hot, it would be.

Within minutes we could be alone, making out, then his cock in my mouth, hearing him moan, his hands wrapped in my hair while he forces his cock farther into my throat, holding me there while he shoots jet after jet of cum down my throat. Ten, fifteen minutes tops, and it would be done. We’d straighten ourselves up. I’d leave him to collect himself while I slipped back into the crowd then, a few minutes later, he’d do the same. Mostly no one would notice and, if anyone did, they’d never be able to prove we were together. It would be so easy to get away with but, what if we were found out?

It’s that damn “what if”, and the backlash, even though our spouses wouldn’t obejct, that keeps it from happening.

The situation here is that the four major people involved in this situation would be cool in degrees ranging from “why not?” to pleased as delicious sherbet punch. But they have to worry about what completely other, uninvolved people think. Please stop cockblocking us all, scandalmongers. I’m fucking serious.

I want to keep my spouse as my beloved life-long partner who i share my life and family with. I just want to fuck somebody else. Sadly, this has occurred to me 10 years into marriage, so negotiating it is next to impossible.

Sometimes marriage means you get to fuck other people, and . This is true of more straight marriages than gay marriages because guess what? There are only a tiny fraction of the gay marriages there should be in the first place!

But to shift soap boxes slightly, if we could get non-monogamy to the point of mainstream acceptance I think we’d really have a chance at that sex utopia I keep dreaming about.

Okay, well probably not.

When I got married to my partner years ago, I never never imagined I could fall in love so hard again that I’d want to marry someone else. And here I am–having the best sex ever, looking deep into eyes that are not my husband’s. I am seriously pissed that our culture does not condone multiple marriages. Then again, the whole legal concept of “marriage” is fairly ridiculous. Maybe I will get divorced from my husband now just to prove a political point, and then maybe I will just ask my second (new) partner, a woman, if she wants to be my life-partner too. Then we can all three of us live in happy bliss…this is my dream, quizzicalpussy! This is my dream!

My dream too, quizkids. In my lurid sex utopia you’d be free to share legal rights, benefits, and social status with any family you built in its entirety. You wouldn’t have to pick a legitimate love and a secret (or secondary) one. Your life could reflect your heart, and mine could reflect mine, and Charlton Heston’s could reflect his. Shocking and tawdry, I know.

I love my husband so very much. He really has been a wonderful force in my life and I would have never been able to start my own business without his support. But I’m feeling like I love my boyfriend more and more, more than my husband.

I know a lot of it is that Boyfriend is better at reading my moods and not overly pressuring me for anything. The husband is completely oblivious 95% of the time.

Thing is, if I say anything, then everybody feels bad. Husband’s last wife left him for her boyfriend she had while married to him. Boyfriend’s been married twice and both women left him for women they were seeing behind his back. He would also feel horrible with even the slightest idea that he was “stealing” me.

So I say nothing. I remind myself often that I’m lucky to have two men who really do love me. And I count the days between visits to the boyfriend.

Sometimes parents have favorite kids. Sometimes things like that are just temporary. Things happen. Love is a weird thing to try to quantify.

I got married for the financial security and health insurance, and I will get unmarried if the real thing ever comes along. I’ve never explicitly told my spouse the degree to which I’m using him.

This has been happening for millennia, basically, except we really have made exceptional strides in healthcare in the last couple centuries. It’s amazing, really.

I think that getting married may have been a mistake. Ostensibly, there’s nothing wrong. My husband is kind, funny, a good person, and one of my best friends. We even have an open relationship so I can have other relationships – I have a boyfriend that I’m intensely in love with.

The problem is that loving my boyfriend this much has made it very obvious to me that I don’t love my husband in the same way and sometimes I don’t think he loves me that way either.

My husband and I haven’t had sex in weeks and weeks. And even when we have have sex in the last 6-8 months, it’s been spotty and not very good. He’s gained weight and is depressed about it so he has been having trouble gaining and holding an erection (but never wants to talk about it or see a doctor and has forbidden me from saying anything to anyone about it). So, anytime we have sex, it’s this rush to take advantage of the erection before it’s gone which leads to sex being a routine of me getting him hard with my mouth or hands and then him sticking it in. I couldn’t tell you the last time he went down on me or tried to please me in any way. So, why bother? Funnily enough though, he still has sex with his girlfriend.

On the opposite end of this spectrum, my boyfriend can’t get enough of me, tells me I’m beautiful all the time and finds me so sexy that even being near me gives him an erection. Sex with him is multiple orgasms, epic oral sessions and him teasing me until I’m begging to be fucked. Spending time with him is him actively showing me how much he loves me and making me feel cherished.

I’m trying to keep in mind that I’m caught in the middle of a lot of NRE, but I’m finding myself so ambivalent about my husband and marriage and this is not the first time I’ve struggled with feelings like this, which is why I’m starting to think that marriage was a mistake. Sometimes I think we’re still together simply because we never had a good enough reason to break up. At the same time, I don’t know that I necessarily want a divorce and the upheaval that would cause, plus I don’t believe in just walking away from that kind of commitment. I’m finding myself fantasizing that he’ll leave me for his girlfriend though.

I don’t know what to do, but I haven’t been able to fully tell anyone how I’m feeling so it feels good to get this out.

On one hand, if you don’t actively want to be in a relationship, and this feeling persists over time, that’s something you should take seriously. You see, if we’re lucky, we have a handful of decades to have the most vivid and magical experience we can have here. If your partners disrupt that journey for you, you are making a daily choice to waste 24 hours while joy lies dormant. This is how I see things.

On the other hand, NRE is crazy and can make us crazy, and it might be a good idea to wait until it subsides before making drastic decisions. Comparing a mature relationship with the frenzy of new love isn’t really fair, is it?

On the every hand, I’m not really qualified to give relationship advice, and I’ve never been married. Not even for like a second.

My relationship with a very nice, pretty, gentle, utterly straightlaced and almost asexual man ended recently.

As the relationship was coming to an end, I stopped fantasizing about getting married, and started fantasizing about finding a dominant, kinky man that would fuck me until I was sore, then do it again the next day.

FOUND HIM! More confessions will be forthcoming, definitely.

First thing: ::internet high five::

Marriage isn’t for everyone. It should just be up to the people involved– and only them– to decide whether or not they are among the people it’s for. Go go gadget equality!

Confess here.

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ConTuesday is happening. Look out.

Jesus fuck. I bought my first vibrator and all I can think now is WHY THE HELL DID I WAIT SO LONG? Seriously.

I cried, man. I literally cried when I came. It was bloody awesome. I’ve never done that before.

Life is so damn awesome right now.

I want everyone to have so many moments like this. Whether it’s down to staring up at the cosmic dance of the stars or skimming flesh against flesh or diving into fractals or pressing a little motorized beast against your nethers, I want it for you. I crave it for you. Life needs to show us its awesome, and we need to let it.

Hi QP,
Giant fan here (in spirit not size). I have a lame confession that also plays the odds. I’ll phrase it like a letter:

Dear girl in my Modern Physics class,

You are supremely attractive. I hardly listen to the lectures some days because you’re in my head gettin’ weird. I would do, truthfully, anything you wanted me to do, so if you’re in a class where a weirdly silent guy showed up sporting a bad mohawk, green sunglasses, a shirt that reads “#1 Dad,” and the tail end of a two day hangover, you should check me out. Give me a thumbs-up and we can get a coffee.

P.S. You straightened your hair. Fantasies have been updated. Some guys notice the little things.

P.P.S. Other girls (and guys) in that class: You guys are great too, don’t worry.

It’s not often that I think “Man, I wish more people read my blog” because I’m actually not as megalomaniacal as the liberal media would have you believe, but now is one of those times. Please, blogging gods, let’s get some supremely attractive, be-mohawked people laid, can we?

The sexual tension is back. A dirty note here, a lingering hug there, a veiled reference at any possible time. I want it, he wants it, and we both know we shouldn’t do it. I’m turned on all the time and I’m fairly certain it’s only a matter of time. If it happens I will enjoy it thoroughly for what it is. He and I both know it can’t be more. I still hope it happens.

Where does sexual tension go away to before it comes back? It is a mystery.

This article claims that the moving tentacle that plugs into your hard drive “doesn’t actually serve any useful purpose.”

But we know better, don’t we, QP?

Are you by any chance referring to this thing? Thinkgeek, that is straight up a sex toy and we all goddamn know it. Will you let me have an affiliate link now?

I’m 23 and work at a newspaper. I have this weird crush on a kid at a middle school… he’s kinda cute and always in the paper for writing and orchestra and dressing up in historical costumes. Basically all the nerdy hobbies I love. He looks older than he is, glasses and long hair, and I’ve met him once.

I officially have no judgments about whom anyone has crushes on, but whatever you do, mate, don’t “he’s very mature for his age” yourself into child molestation. Promise me you will never do that.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that my ex was coercive and abusive. Sure, he didn’t know he was doing it, he got anxious and he came from a dysfunctional family–all excuses I keep giving myself–but he made me constantly afraid to say no, and I had panic attacks at the thought of seeing him.

My girlfriend, on the other hand, is great. I’m slowly getting comfortable with her touching me–yesterday she tickled me for hours, and she ended up straddling me, and it was great. I didn’t feel afraid, just attracted and with only the mildest remnants of discomfort. I felt like I made real progress.

Today she came over and held me while I cried for ages. I guess I didn’t make as much progress as I thought. I’m so tired of feeling this way. I just want to hold her, and not feel uncomfortable and sick about it. My first relationship fucked me up big time! I know it won’t fuck up this one, but it’s so depressing to think of all that time designated “recovery” stretching out ahead of me, all of this effort to detox the shit he put me through. I really do love her though.

You are doing everything right, and your ex deserves to be nothing more than a distant, foul-scented memory. Love her hard, and accept every ounce of respect and devotion that she gives you because you deserve it.

My spouse and I have plenty of (ok) sex. It’s the kissing and cuddling that is missing. Sometimes I want to cheat – with my best friend – and have some amazing cuddles, fully clothed. Why is this so hard????

Okay, monogamous people. I’m not mad. I’m not. But why is cuddling cheating? Don’t we have to draw the line somewhere with all this dyadic hysteria? I’m sorry, but someone had to say it.

Tell me many things!

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I started this blog determined to never apologize for not posting. The main reason for this is the sheer hubris of the idea of assuming that people care all that much whether I put a thing on the internet or not. But also, I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I felt I had to do something as non-vital to anyone’s survival as type naughty words. The very idea is silly.

But then I made an express commitment to post the things you send me once a week, so I owe you this explanation for the recent two-week ConTuesday lapse: There was just no fucking way, you guys. My health has been a bitch, then I moved to a place that has required a great deal of work to make even borderline habitable. Then came a massive shift in my personal life. I love you and I love this blog and I love ConTuesday, but there was no fucking way.

But here I am, back, as you always knew I’d be. Typing naughty words.

Cuntodactyl.

To come, I need a narrative; so much so that I’ve got a major hobby in writing smut, and much of it reflects the stuff that I invent and refine trying to get my rocks off. That can be tiring and time consuming, so normally it takes me a while to get there.

But it turns out, I can also come just fine while watching hentai. And very, very quickly, since I don’t have to hold the narrative all by myself. w00t! who said girls don’t like visual porn, again? :D

People who say that girls don’t like any particular thing are necessarily wrong. Some people look down on using equivocal language, but I’d feel so horribly inaccurate without it! Also, though, yay for getting off! I quite like it myself.

I waxed to please my partner and now I’m disgusted by my body, have zero sex drive, and am grossed out that he thinks it looks good. ….help…..

You tried it, and waxing is clearly not for you. It grows back eventually, and I hope it does so swiftly and decisively. If your partner is making huge deal out of it, I would think a conversation about how much you hate being bald is in order. If he’s just enjoying it but not pressuring you, try to remember that he’s used to seeing naked genitals as much more sexualized than natural ones. Doesn’t mean your genitals have to fall in line with that or that he can’t tweak the common societally ingrained fashion-based reaction; it’s just that it’s not necessarily personal. But of course, neither is getting turned off by the fact that he’s turned on by something. Maybe that’s a deal-breaker, and that’s valid.

I’ve been reading your archives, and I masturbated to your descriptions of abuse by your ex-boyfriend Reginald Sleeth. (I’m really heavy into D/s.) I’m absolutely horrified by it and for that reason it turns me on like crazy. Sorry. (I’m a young woman, if that matters.)

You know what? I’m really just happy that that stupid, senseless farce of a relationship is now doing something useful for someone.  Everyone has my permission to masturbate to my horror stories as long as you promise not to abuse your partners. I think that’s fair, right?

So I hope it isn’t terribly terrible (but only rather terrible) of me to make this about me, but thank you for your writing about Reginald. Even though my own experience didn’t involve physical violence, I feel validated in calling it abuse. I also feel less alone in how fucked up I am because of it. Also maybe a little less convinced it makes me a terrible person, because you seem pretty awesome, so.

I’m posting this as a companion confession to the one above because I feel like they’re two sides of the same silver-lined coin. It isn’t terrible at all. I mean, it’s terrible that you’ve had to deal with abuse– I really hate that part. But if reading about my experiences has helped you come to terms with that abuse (which doesn’t reflect on you as a person whatsoever, just so you know) in any way, that is quite honestly the best reason I can think of for continuing to write about them.

When I write about things like my ill-advised soda bottle dildo experience I sometimes forget that the Reginald parts of the story are horrifying. I’ll think, hey this is kind of a funny story, and what about that wacky Reginald acting in typical douchebaggy Reginald ways? Classic Reginald! And I don’t concentrate much on how fucked up the whole thing was. This may be part of the reason I’m still not amazingly good at relationships and trust and stuff. Because it was fucked up. Incredibly fucked up. And just because that was how I learned to relationship doesn’t mean it was or is acceptable. I want us all to learn that.

I’ve just started seeing a guy who can push all my buttons in the best possible ways. Orgasms of a frequency and intensity I’ve never experienced before. Internet high-five, right? Not quite so much.

See, I was raised with”good girls don’t”. My brain wants to think that’s total bullshit, but I can’t quite seem to stop believing it. I enjoy the sex while it’s happening, but afterwards I feel self-conscious and a little ashamed. I hate it and I want it to go away so I can enjoy my sex in peace!

Good girls are mythical creatures who are born to embody parental wish fulfillment. People are multidimensionally good and bad and fucked up and strong and ecstatic and silly and getting closer every day to ending this go-around. People deserve–and are enriched by– amazing sex. I could not care much less what good girls do or don’t do any more than I care what manticores eat for breakfast. (Okay, I care a little what manticores have for breakfast, and I think it’s probably Special K in warrior blood.)

In my long-standing tradition of giving advice where it isn’t expressly asked for, I think you should keep in mind that you’re people, and no one is a good girl, and you are worth more than having to try to be a mythical thing that doesn’t–and will never– exist.

And I’m just going to fucking ::internet high five:: you anyway, so deal with it.

I am in school studying for a career in the medical field. Recently I ran into another older student I recognized from last semester and asked her if she’s studying to become a nurse. “No.” she tartly replied. “Bodily fluids. I can’t do bodily fluids.” I managed to rein in my urge to blurt “Shit. I must’ve drunk GALLONS of them by now.” I’d hate to freak out a future colleague, now, wouldn’t I?

Gallons, huh? I think I’ve fallen behind somehow…

I bought my first vibrator, a cheap one from the drugstore, a couple of months ago. It’s been much appreciated but it’s at the end of its life. While before, I was hesitant, now I am super keen for more toys. I was browsing the internet for toys and now I want more than I can afford! Do I get a cheap-ish bullet and kegel balls first and then a better set of varied vibrators or the set of vibrators first and then the kegel balls?? Do you have opinions on Leo Luna Love Balls? I could do with more reliable orgasm (sometimes it just doesn’t happen :( ) and I’ve heard good things about them. Plus the idea of walking around in public, going to classes and for drinks with them inside me is super hot. Too many decisions.

I haven’t tried the Lelo balls, but I have the Fun Factory Smart Balls, and they’re lovely, especially to wear about town to make yourself a little crazy before a hot date (with lover or toy). Careful, quizkids, sex toy collecting is a serious addiction and I totally suport it.

Memo to self: stop jerking off right after taking anti-depression meds, at least if you’ve already jerked off once that day. Twice now the 45-minutes-of-trying-without-relief-before-giving-up has happened, you could really stand not to experience that again ever.

I don’t think that sounds like much fun, no. I wish I could donate orgasms to people. Not in a creepy way!

Hey QP! My girlfriend (and fellow QP reader) and I are in a long-ish distance relationship, with us going to universities in different cities. While it’s a bit tough being apart a lot of the time for school, every time we get together it is just absolutely awesome. Just this last weekend makes for an awesome example…

The two of us had just done some sexy times and in our pleasant state decided to snuggle up and just enjoy holding each other. My hands started to get a bit antsy so I started softly caressing her back, hearing her sigh and moan softly as I moved them along her skin, paying attention to any spots she seemed to especially enjoy having my hands on. We ended up going for over 20 minutes of just being next to each other as I caressed her. Felt so damn good and I think she’s inclined to say the same!

Long distance relationships are tough, but those times when you do get together are so worth it.

And this week we close on a most triumphant ::internet high five:: because that is what we like to do here.

Confess!

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