quizzical pussy

It’s a rare person who pair-bonds only once in their entire life, and probably even rarer to have only one sexual partner. This is probably somehow connected to the fact that we’re more closely related to apes than birds.

But we’ve built a social structure where being faithful to one partner is almost universally considered virtuous, and cheating is almost universally condemned. I totally get how lying to people is a sucky thing to do, but sometimes I wonder why we’ve agreed to direct so much ire toward people who cheat. There are worse things you could do to a partner than touch someone who is not them, aren’t there?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: humans are weird. Other animals too. You should see what my dog’s doing right now.

I have secrets that no one knows about. I lost my virginity at 14 and have been a sex addict ever since. I’m in a monogamous marriage but I go and see my playmate every month (not necessarily the same playmate each time). I love sucking cock and can’t get enough of it, how can I tell you how much I love them…

How much you love cocks or your playmates? Or all of the above?

Part of me wants to put a preachy thing here that says I hope you’re getting tested for STIs and that it’s kind of weird to say you’re in a monogamous marriage when it only, at best, appears that way to half the people in it. But you know what? You’re presumably a grown up and I’m in no mood to be preachy. I have no emotions related to this aside from a dim echo of happiness thinking that cock sucking really is kind of boss.

Next week I will try to be more judgmental.

I went to a New Year’s party with my boyfriend and some friends who we go out with sometimes. It was a great party, everyone was having fun and there was no drama. A friend of my boyfriend was there, a guy I knew from pub nights. We had talked lots before, but never so much as flirted with each other. He recently got married, I am happy enough with my boyfriend- there wasn’t even a question of something happening between us.

I went out with him and a group of people for a smoke which is something I usually do. But as they were going back up the stairs we made eye contact and just… lingered. I don’t even remember what we were talking about or how it happened… we were on the stairs to go back up and then his lips were on mine and his hands were up my skirt and it was pure, electric passion- for about 3 minutes, and then I lead him back to the party. We were making knowing eyes at each other from across the room all night after that, and he’d secretly grope my ass, or just innocuously put his hand on my waist as we talked. We had another brief encounter shortly after during a smoke break- hot whispering in my ear and hands everywhere. He tried to get me to go outside with him alone… I said no without hesitation. I was very clear that I wasn’t going to have sex with him, no matter how badly I wanted to, it wasn’t even a question.

I am not sure why it happened, or how. I will think on it. Usually that very clear “no” comes through before lips meet, and doesn’t wait around for the opportunity for actual sex to kick in. I think part of it was the permissiveness of the holiday- new years is when you get to kiss all those people you want to kiss the rest of the year. Most of it was drunkeness- but then, I have been drunk before and have never cheated on anyone, ever. And also, the fact that it was completely, utterly harmless helped. It meant nothing. It was just spontaneous sexual energy colliding in a stairwell. My best friend thinks it happened because I have been really unhappy with my relationship this past year (we’ve been together for 5). I trust her, but I don’t even want to think about what leaving my boyfriend would entail- I am entirely dependent on him financially and socially. I don’t want to be a cheater, but I worry that that’s the closest I can get to happiness.

This confession was actually really hot and then it was kind of sad. Conflicted.

repeat customer here. I’m the woman in love with a man who is asexual, not attracted to me, or gay. We are in a relationship, but I deem that if there ever was a covenant here, he has broken faith with me by denying the sex I have repeatedly begged for. At best, I get a single-event pity fuck and that’s it until the next time I break down crying because of lack of sex– usually 3 months later. Covenant broken= I’m not obliged to exclusivity here. A sexy man in town is pursuing me hotly and wants to give me the proper (and regular) fucking I so richly deserve, and with no strings attached. I think I’ll let him, and I don’t consider this cheating and I don’t feel guilty. Have (my own naturally abundant) lube. Will stray.

I condone nothing, but what is someone reasonably supposed to do in a situation like this? Actually, I probably do condone stuff like this. Or at least I can understand it. How is life not too short for relationships like this?

I have been in a polyamorous relationship for a few years now. Recently, that’s changed and I’m only with one of my partners; we’re very happy and may even get hitched soon. The thing is, I’m not really poly. I know I was with multiple people for a long time (and I thought it’d be longer; it was supposed to be a forever thing), but I never considered myself, nor do I now, polyamorous. It just sort of…happened? And now, I can’t even imagine thinking about pursuing other relationships. Not that I think anything’s wrong with that. But I just can’t fathom getting there. So I’m sort of stuck between two groups. I met a lot of people when I was in a poly relationship and therefore considered part of the ”poly community”, and it took a toll on the people I know/knew who had to adjust to something they didn’t know before I was doing it. But now poly people get all pissy about me posing as poly just because my experience was individual rather than something I feel like committing my life to for sure. And some of the people I lost over choosing that relationship still won’t talk to me, and the ones who will, I don’t want to talk to. They’re very “I told you so” about it and that’s just stupid. I’m just so tired of people needing to fucking label everything. I have been in several successful relationships in varying degrees of deep, weird, or out of the norm. I’ve been happy, I’ve been sad. I’ve had new-relationship tingly feelings. And I’ve gone through horrible heartbreak. Just because in at least one of those cases it happened to involve multiple partners, why the fuck does that have to change anything? I see all sorts of fucked up things in relationships between two people; and a whole bunch of fucked up things in triads or groups or whatever. Fucked up things between a mom and son. Fucked up things in a friendship. I’ve gone through many of these things. So fuck the hypocrites who want acceptance for being in some outside the social norm relationship, but then don’t even see what the fuck they’re doing when they criticize others. I just wish people would fucking leave other people alone and pay attention to themselves. Who I choose to fuck, for how long, and in what context are my own business. As is my choice to not put a fucking label on myself. I will respect your label if it means that much to you, but I have never felt it necessary to define someone by their label (or even know what it was) to have respect for that person or to like them. In a world with so many awesome people, I’m pretty tired of people en masse.

So essentially, a bunch of poly people are getting into a snit because you’re not, and were never 100% committed to defining yourself as poly. Like you’re not being monogamous enough with that fucking label AHAHAHAHA excuse me. Ha. Jackasses.

Seriously. Jackasses.

So I have the best girl friend in the world. We match up so wonderfully and together we will be able to withstand the hell that will be unleashed by my mom when I start poking out that closet door. Of this I have no doubt.

I wish that this thanksgiving could have been spent with her instead of at ‘home’. She was up at Hollins our school for the brake, I was down in Texas. Well I wasn’t really that involved with the family for a number of reasons but I did enjoy the diner. Good food and good thoughts. I spent the meal coming up with lovely fantasy list of things to do to her when I dom her things I want done when I sub and things that would be nice when we just roll around.

And then over skyp that night I had her tie herself a gag and then she did exactly what I told her to. (She was feeling sub and I was feeling dom). God she was so beautiful and sexy and such a good girl, doing exactly as she was told. Even if I couldn’t be there to do exactly what I was describing I’d do to her, it was wonderful watching her fucker her self with taylor (That’s what we named our dildo). I think I got her off about three times before she flopped back and was too exhausted to move in that “Fucking good sexiness just happened” kinda way.

I go home to her on sunday and then the door shall be locked as we make up for lost time. Till then, I have that wonderfully tired smile to think about.

Very sweet. I vote we all get carte blanche to cheat on our families every holiday and spend it with people who are awesome and sexy. That’s what birds do, you know.

She’s a good lady.
Of course, she won’t shave her bush, not even once. (She did for someone else, but not me.) She won’t do anal. (She did a couple of times, years ago. Never again.) She won’t have sex more often than, say, a couple of times a month. And then, it’s quick, because she tells me that she has other things to do.
Additional people in our bed are not permitted. Additional bed partners out of our bed would go against the monogamy that we have in our marriage.*

I know women who: LOVE to explore in sex. They like to play with their pubic hair shapes, colours, etc. They like or adore anal, and don’t mind exploring beyond a single bed partner. They enjoy sex several times a week. Sex is a banquet for them.

I’m going to die in a few dozen years. Likely, I’ll still be married to this same woman. So is this all that there is, for me?

I question the shit out of monogamy, right now.

Playing ape’s advocate here: I don’t think you should cheat on your wife, but I also don’t think that someone being a “good lady” is reason enough to stay in a monogamous romantic relationship with them.

I see so many people who seem to feel trapped in their relationships, and sometimes that has to do with monogamy and sometimes it has more to do with people just not working well together anymore. Remember how like a minute ago I said that life’s too short? I think it’s too short.

This isn’t a sex confession, but:
Sometimes (read: once a week or more), I get myself convinced that your website ends in .net, and then spend a good ten minutes horrified that something happened to cause you to take down your site… until I realize no, I’m just an idiot.
The moral of the story here: Love your site, QP, and glad I’m always wrong.

I have never been a cheater, and wouldn’t start by cheating on my .com with a .net. But right now the idea that there’s something I add to the world that, if absent, would cause horror and dismay to anyone on the planet is exactly what I need to hear right now. So thanks.

Confessional

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ConTuesday: Kink edition. GO.

I’ve always considered myself to be pretty vanilla with sex, but now I’m not quite sure… over the past year, sex with my boyfriend has become much more dominating, but not really breaching any kink or bdsm territory. I get off on being told what to do, but, I don’t like humiliation or punishment or being called anything degrading, though I can see the fun in it. I guess I’d call it getting off on being completely under my partner’s control; as in, when I have sex, I don’t even think I have a choice. Almost like being hypnotized, I guess? I like being told in the moment exactly what to think, what to do, etc. and I’m only able to do it because I was told. It feels rather meta. I know this is really rather tame, but I also know that it’s not quite the norm. What do I even call a fetish like this? Is it bdsm?

A lot of times when people play with power and control like that, they call it BDSM. Sometimes they don’t. It seems like you could classify it as a form of sexual submission, but maybe one of my kink-proficient readers has a better term for it.

I’m not sure if it makes much of a difference what you decide to label any of this stuff as long as you’re happy with your sex life and content to let others be happy with theirs.

Lately, all I can think about is how badly I want to sit at someone’s feet while they pet my hair and tell me I’m a good girl. I don’t know how to find someone who’d be into that, and I’m deeply ashamed of wanting it. (YKIOK but mine isn’t, I guess?) It’s taken me days just to get up the nerve to submit this here, even, but here I go.

I just want to put it out there that I would do this for any number of very good girls in a heartbeat. I’m not a terribly kinky person, but even I love this idea. Not saying this in a creepy way, but to let you know that not only should Your Kink Is OK be in play here, it’s probably not even going to be hard to get this desire met.

I’ve been on FetLife for about a year now but only been “active” on it for about the last 4 months or so. Fuck my sexless marriage. So many kinky playmates and so little time.

Protip: FetLife seems like it would be frustrating-at-best to use as a dating/hookup site. Plug in to your local kink or poly community through FetLife, though, and you’ll mostly likely find awesome people willing to play and/or date married, ethically-non-monogamous people. Because I’m assuming that your spouse is behind you in this. If you are not “allowed” to be ethically-non-monogamous despite being in a sexless marriage, I just don’t even.

I never realised quite how dominant I am, or how much of a sadist under the right circumstances.
My other half is submissive to me at times, but god, I want more. I want… need… deserve to be worshipped. To be the reason he breathes, to be his every waking thought, to be asked permission for EVERYTHING. I would love to take responsibility for his pleasure, for his money, his diet, make him so happy he would realise he owes me total compliance and servitude. I want to be able to hit as hard as I want, to set him any task, however extreme… Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a total loony, I’d never force any of this on anyone or resent him for not giving it to me. In fact he does, sometimes, I just wish his appetite for extremism would catch up with mine because holy hell, do I have some exquisitely, deliciously awful ideas.

Yeah, I think you might sort of veer toward the dominant end of the BDSM spectrum…

I have a new friend who I like to work out with, and I think he is into me, while I am not attracted to him at all, in any way. The thought of making out with him (let alone going further) seems strange and unappealing. However, I’ve begun to have fantasies where he sternly but calmly tells me I need to be punished, and takes me over his knee and spanks me. I’ve gotten off to this three nights in a row.

One thing I love about the BDSM community is that it gives people a venue to possibly say “Oh, I don’t want to/can’t/mustn’t kiss you or have any sexual contact with you, but would you like to spank me/tie me up/set me on fire?” This is probably only something that happens if everyone is pretty good at basic negotiation, but it’s a start that we can even be aware of this as a legitimate possibility.

I have recently found myself potentially entering into a submissive relationship with a Dominant who is a collared and owned switch. While I am starting to answer to him for instructions and challenges about my own body, his Domme is the one who makes the rules about his body. After playing at a party recently, I noticed that while we have been having many intimate moments and much necking and biting, we have not kissed on the mouth. I found myself craving that in a scene with him and felt there was a lack of it. I almost lost control and pounced his lips with my eager mouth and tongue, but I was far too subby to do that. Good thing, too, because when I asked his Domme about it a few days later, she let me know that making out was a rule and a limit at the moment. I was surprised I hadn’t run into this already in the four months we have been playing, so obviously there are other hot and sexy things that we have been doing over the months that are more important. But as we are starting to grow into our dynamic, and I am giving him more control, I am struggling with this limit. I don’t know if it is more that I need the intimacy of deep kissing or if I am afraid I will not have the self control to obey the limit. And there is always the chance that the limit can be lifted, I guess, eventually. But I do find myself challenged now, because while I respect their limits, I am afraid they might not align with my needs, and that is upsetting, as I am otherwise very happy with how things have been slowly evolving.

Hey, everyone who thinks the kink world is a lascivious sexual free-for-all where people tap into animal urges and damn the consequences: You’re actually looking for swingers’ parties.

I kid, of course.

I’ve recently started going to the gym, and part of what is keeping me motivated is the utterly beautiful trainer who is now starring in several of my fantasies.

My current favourite: I’m kneeling with my clitoris pressed onto the vibrating PowerPlate and his cock in my mouth, while holding weights out with my arms…. if I drop them when I come, or he comes, I will be terribly punished.

Well, off to the gym.

Today I learned that working out makes anywhere from two to the majority of people want to be abused in lovely ways. This is why wii Fit didn’t catch on the way they were hoping. It’s too damn nice.

Tell me something, please.

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I feel like giving out some high fives today, how about you? If you love your sex life put your hand in the air, yo.

My husband and I have an open relationship and I’ve just recently began seeing a new fuckbuddy and HOLY CRAP.

First, he is amazingly hot. Like, I’m still pinching myself over the fact that he’s into me, gorgeous eyes, sexy smile, amazing body and a perfect dick hot.

Second, he’s actually a really awesome, funny guy and we have a great time together even when we’re not having mind blowing sex.

Third – THE SEX. We have so much sexual chemistry it’s a little overwhelming sometimes. We have an incredibly hard time keeping our hands/mouths off each other. It’s like his dick was MADE to be in my mouth. I have never actually fantasized about giving a blow job before. I’ve always enjoyed and been very good at it, but I’ve never gotten off on it before now. He is amazingly intuitive, I hardly ever have to give any instruction or direction, he naturally does just about everything EXACTLY the way that I like it. He is easily in the top three for best lays of my life (and I was pretty slutty in my early 20s).

He’s a marriage-minded guy (not that he’s actively looking, but he does want that in his future), so I understand that our arrangement has a shelf life, but DAMN am I going to enjoy the hell of it in the meantime! Just needed to brag about that for a minute, thanks!

::internet high five:: without a doubt! I love braggarts. Well, that’s not entirely true, but in the context of ConTuesday it’s utterly true.

There’s a beauty to accepting that a good thing need not be permanent, but on another level, marriage can mean a lot of things. Maybe on the distant day when he finds a primary partner he’ll still get to keep his fuck buddy/ies. After all, seems like he has a role model for how an open marriage can function.

[For context's sake, let me just say I'm a 45 year old bi female so some of this makes some sort of sense :) ]

One of my favorite memories of the last year was my boyfriend and I attending a great strip club and getting a lap dance from a confident, sexy woman who first a) held her bikini bottom up against her cunt so I could see the outline of her clit and inner labia b) pushed it aside and then c) put my hand on her cunt, one of my fingers slipping between her wet lips.

I wish it had gone on longer; it would have been lovely for her to put her cunt on my mouth and I surely would have enjoyed the wetting of every part of her cunt with my lips and tongue.

Ah, cunt, how I miss you. :)

Haven’t made love to a woman for a few years.

Hey, so bisexual visibility day just happened on Sunday. You know how we bisexuals are supposed to be totally great at monogamy so you monosexuals won’t oppress us anymore? Well fuck you. Maybe sometimes we’re gonna miss cunt.¹

I’ve had one night stands because relationships mostly annoy me. I don’t think that makes me a whore. I think it means I know what I like and I happen not to prefer the limitations of a closed relationship. There is a pang of regret that I didn’t pursue a relationship with one rather intriguing man some years ago, but that’s one small regret against a huge backdrop of not-regrets.

Having mostly not-regrets is kind of the most we can ask of life, isn’t it? And at that point, people can call me a whore or whatever they like because I pretty much own at existing. And that is damn high-fiveable.

1. I was depressed about not getting enough sex.
2. I am still not getting much sex, but am less depressed about it.
3. I’m XXXXX on XXXXXXXXX, lately.
4. When I XXXX XX XXXXXXXXXXX X, I’m hornier.
5. XXX says I need to XXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX X for my XXXXXX.
6. I like having sex.
7. I don’t like being disappointed at my female partner’s sparse sexual offerings.
8. We are monogamous.
9. I’ve a willing friend whom I’d like to wear out in an almost violently sexual fashion.

I think we all have a friend like that. Mine is a XXXXX XXXXXXXX.

In a way, I have nothing to complain about: Recently, I had two (Technically three) very nice, enjoyable sexual events with three different people, one which resulted in a very intense, new friend who will hopefully visit me again soon, and have the chance for an awesome threesome on the horizon. (*fingers crossed*)

So my sex live is actually quite nice. I know many people who would LOVE to have these experiences.

And I’m happy. I feel loved and desired, something I haven’t felt in a while.

And, yet, today, when I heard about two friends of mine getting their sexy on with each other, I felt really sad and excluded. I used to have a bit of a threesided friends-with-benefits thing with them, but things have not worked out the last few months and distances have grown, mostly between them and me.

So when I heard about them having sexyfuntime, it hurt. It hurt because I used to have a feeling of closeness and connection with then and I miss that. I miss feeling loved and desired by them.

And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for begrudging them their fun, I hate myself for not being content with the cool love life that I have, and I hate myself for actually caring about any of that.

I would love to be happy for them, I would love to hear about their sexual exploits and say, with honesty and conviction, “Awesome! I’m happy for you!”. And I’d love to have my own happiness not be so dependent on whether these two people do the nasty with each other and not me.

So far, that’s not working so well, though.

It can suck to feel left out. If you’re not being a dick to them about it, I would suggest you cut yourself some slack and let yourself feel what you’re feeling and work through it without judging yourself so harshly.

And then go get laid like a motherfucking time agent and report back!

I’m polyamorous. I went a long time without wanting sex with my husband, to the point where he just doesn’t try any more. My boyfriend, on the other hand? I’m wet for him ALL. THE. TIME. It’s weird to me that I can want one guy so much when I want the other guy in my life pretty much not at all. I think it’s the difference in kissing and enthusiasm. My boyfriend will kiss me hard and shove me up against a wall and show me how much he wants me, whereas my husband makes an attempt of some kind, but won’t kiss me and then if I say yes, I have to take the lead. With my boyfriend, I’ve discovered that I like to be submissive and do what I’m told. My boyfriend is of the ‘service top’ variety, and it just works so well! I have the best orgasms ever with him, so much so that I have to get him to stop sometimes so I can breathe. It’s awesome.

::internet high five::

(I too prefer to fuck people who will kiss me. It’s a weird fetish thing I have.)

We ran an errand together. While we traveled, I began touching her in ways not strictly prohibited but never done before between us; I touched her face and her neck and her upper chest. A line had been crossed.

When we stopped, I kissed her neck before we went inside. She moaned a bit. On the way back, I did it some more. I attended to her breasts. We composed ourselves and returned to our lives apart.

::internet high five::, I think. Pretty sure. Yeah.

1. Or dick. [↩]

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This is important: Did you know that Tumblr has a thing called Topless Tuesday? Exciting, even though I have yet to find any pictures on Tumblr of people in shirts.

I secretly want to post amateur porn on the net, but I have very distinctive body markings, a fairly unique voice and a very good job where I meet a lot of people. I live vicariously through Topless Tuesday on Tumblr.

Told you guys!

Eventually we will get to the point where posting amateur porn on the internet is considered the public service it damn well is. I’m not great at paying attention, but I’m assuming that’s what this 2012 hype is all about. On December 22nd we wake up and everyone is chill about sex and porn, right? Right?

The comments on the submission page make me laugh. I almost want to make a confession that says, ”Girlz not afraid 2 show there pussy” and nothing else.

The only reasons I haven’t deleted those comments are a) hilarity, and b) I too hold out hope that one day I’ll find a clutch of these fearless girlz. Don’t take that dream away from me.

I wonder how messed up it is that I zone out on some clients and just start doing Kegels and fantasizing about their skills (or lack of them) in bed?

It’s messed up if they’re not doing their Kegels. Shit is fundamental.

I have never told anybody about how I get off when I’m alone.

I, er, imagine exercising a lot and getting in really good shape and having some guy with an amazing body compliment me on this.

It is utterly ridiculous, but it does the job. I lie there and think about being all hard and muscular and I spasm all over and soak the sheets.

As a matter of fact, I was doing this since I was eight years old, years before I ever set foot in a weight room or told a boy I liked him. It was more of a power trip, honestly; I was bullied in school and I think that made me fantasize about strength. I had a thing about Heracles. And Popeye.

But when I was little I remember telling my parents “I feel like I need to go to the bathroom, but I don’t really need to pee.” They were so worried they took me to the pediatrician, who was, like, “Kid, if you need to go to the bathroom, you should pee.” And all the time I knew, guiltily, that it was *thinking secret thoughts* that made me feel so nice and weird down there.

I guess there are weirder kinks. Mine, at least, is sort of attainable; while I’m not the ripped superhuman of my fantasies, I do work out a lot and get decent results and the occasional compliment. But I still feel like it’s the most perverted thing *ever*.

Whenever my childhood friends and I would cluelessly discuss sex I remember admitting, “I feel like I have to pee again!” I did not mention this to my parents, but one didn’t mention things to my parents. One still doesn’t.

Your fantasy is definitely not the most perverted thing ever. If perversion were radioactive decay, the cat would be fine, so don’t even worry about it.

I wish my boyfriend enjoyed giving oral as much as I do. He rarely does it. He went over 6 months without going down on me and when he finally did it lasted all of five seconds. I really enjoy giving him blow jobs but I try not to very often because I feel like it’s not fair.

I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it, though. His libido is much lower than mine as well. I love him and don’t want to break up, but I feel like maybe the sooner we break up the sooner I’ll fall in love with someone else who will enjoy eating my pussy.

I’m happy to be corrected if I’m wrong, but the impulse to give pleasure to one’s partner cannot necessarily have to correspond with libido. To wit, I can want to eat my partner’s pussy without feeling like I need to get off myself. Not that I think people should force themselves to do anything they don’t want to, and my aim here is not to shame anyone into adopting this behavior, but I genuinely do wonder why “I’m good, but I will gladly help you get off!” isn’t a viable solution for libido imbalance.

Anyway, I’ve seen this too many times to equivocate: if sex of any kind is a constant frustration for one partner and the other partner has fistfuls of not compromising and nothing else, the relationship is not working, I repeat, is not working. Communication, therapy, experimentation, non-monogamy, or termination… something has to change.

I’m on form of chemotherapy which is making me super tired (but it’s working, so woo!). I do have a high sex drive, but at the moment it’s peaking in the afternoons and by the evening, I just want to sleep.

This is a bastard because my partner doesn’t finish work til mid evening, so having spent all day fantasizing about all the things I want to do to/with/on/at him, by the time I see him, I can’t muster the strength to do any of it. Worse, our days off do not coincide. Tired and frustrated = :(

I’m so super glad it’s working! But the constantly frustrating timing thing is a motherfucker.

Is there any reality to be found in a hopeful expectation to kiss someone new and not have sex with them?

Yes! Read on.

I love sex. It’s fucking awesome and all, but sometimes I wish I could just make out. I really identified with the secret from this week about the man who wanted to make out with his old high school friend, not fuck her, just kiss her and make out.

Just wanted to say that I totally understand. Sometimes you just want to kiss someone and pull them close, bite on their lip and it’s just great.

My girlfriend and I are poly, and a few weeks ago I had the fantastic opportunity to have some physical relations with a friend of mine. We didn’t have sex, but for the 3 days we were able to see each other we must have spent about 10-12 hours in her bed, making out and lying there together and then making out some more and more and more. One particular goodnight kiss lasted 50 minutes.

But yeah. You’re not alone, man.

We’re actually each of us so not alone that it’s impossible to be alone. So now that we’re all here, wanna make out?

Or you can just tell me stuff.

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Monogamy makes sense to me. I think it works beautifully for some people, and that it is absolutely a valid lifestyle choice. Monogamy as the default, not so much. I think that’s why I get a lot of confessions about the drawbacks of monogamy: it’s more or less expected in society at large, and that chafes many of us. Even if we choose to participate in monogamy, it’s hard not to rage against it a little during those little dark wank sessions of the soul.

Hey, rich premium-cable-subscribing people, did you know that Showtime is premiering a new reality show about polyamory next week? Does more exposure of polyamory and other kinds of ethical non-monogamy mean that monogamy will become less of a default as time drags pop culture along with it? Is this show going to be fascinating, embarrassing, or fascinatingly embarrassing?

I’ve some friends who clearly need a good fucking to get out of their funk. In a more perfect world, I’m *just* the person to give it to them. But the monogamous nature of my relationship means that I can’t. Bad luck for all concerned.

You could fuck your monogamous partner more often and dedicate your performance (with partner approval) to your needy friends. Sometimes it really is the thought that counts.

No, that is not the weirdest idea I’ve had today.

I think I’m poly just because I’m obsessed with sex and being monogamous gets boring… and when i’m with someone new, my primary tries so much more to impress me

Well, there you go. You’ve found your system.

I’m an FtM kinkster in the midwest
[hope that doesn't identify me 0_0 I think I might be the only one out here!]
I was in a almost successful poly relationship last year, til she lied and left me for someone who couldn’t distinguish BDSM from abuse.
I blamed myself for shying from her need to be punished so severely. Then I long distance dated a monogamous girl.

I wasn’t going to lose this girl and she turned me into the Punisher. I crave sadism now. Craved it so much I was giving it to closeted bi married rednecks while I waited for an opening in her schedule just to see her again.

*picture me, genderfk that I am, glancing at the clock on the wall with wooden paddle in hand, balls deep in farmer browns ass while he is strapped face down to a wooden table with his arms tied behind him in plastic ties like we’re living in a police state and I’ve come to seize his rights.*

That’s when I realized I’d done it again.
Farmer Brown and I had the same problem: We were NOT getting what we needed emotionally b/c the other partner was unavailable or unwilling and we were STARVED.
I donn’t see it as cheating, not at all! I’m crazy about her!
I see it as a desperate act to emotionally purge/exercise. In my relationships, my partner is a leg and I am a leg. When I am without them, I’m just a stump, which is cool, I can chill… but if I wanna get anywhere I need someone to dance with.
BDSM polyamory to me is giving me a prosthetic while your hopping over here and there and yonder.
You wouldn’t tell a one legged man that he doesn’t need another leg, he can just wait for his leg to come back to him. That’s crazy talk.
Life is a buffet of awesome. So if you say you will feed me and I can’t eat without you, but you don’t feel up to cookin this month GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY, I’mma order out!

I think a lot of people would do the same in your position, and I sympathize, but I want to make the distinction between polyamory and cheating clear to everyone reading. A lot of people cheat on partners they’re crazy about. That can still be cheating, and it doesn’t magically invalidate anyone’s feelings for the person they’re cheating on. If you’re calling what you do polyamory, I think that technically means you’re disclosing what’s going on to some degree, even if it’s just “I’m not monogamous with you”.

At the same time, yeah, I have no idea what one does when in a relationship where they’re not getting adequate sex and not “allowed” to outsource it…

I was duped into a relationship with someone who claimed to be old-fashioned and thus put off the issue of actual sex. I was blinded by some very hot heavy-petting, but no actual below-the-waist activity. Turns out, this person apparently doesn’t like or want sex at all. I was deceived. Now they think they have exclusivity because we are a couple. What a joke. What a fucking liar.

…unless it involves breaking up.

I’ve slept with a lot of my friends. This is awesome to me, as I like them all very much and they were all fun in bed (except for the one who wasn’t, who got some lessons; who knew I liked teaching sexy-sex-ed?), and I hope it’s awesome to them, too. I like to imagine they brag about me to each other when I’m not around. They probably don’t, but I really hope they do.

Now I want to secretly watch while a heap of my past and current lovers talk about how I am in bed. Okay, so that would probably not happen (pretty sure there are more interesting things to talk about), and I would probably die of embarrassment if I had to watch it. But it would be fascinating.

My peruvian coworker- if I wasn’t a monogamously married woman, I’d drag him into the vault and work and bang him like a gong while he said anything at all, as long as it was in spanish.

I hope you speak enough Spanish that you could recognize the phrase “sexual harassment”. You know, just in case.

I have 3 nipples.

More options! Having two nipples is very limiting, really.

I’ve never really made out much. I started sex very early, and face time was displaced having actual sex. It’s sad, but the first girl that I had sex with, I never ever made out with. Not once. We were about 12. Years later, I made out some with girlfriends, but the scene moved VERY quickly to coitus. Now my wife cares not a lot for making out, and then only full-on, P-in-V sex, when we’ll play with each other’s tongues.
I met an old friend from high school, tonight, having a wife-approved drink at a pub. My friend has weathered VERY well. She’s cute, and hug-intensive. She paid a lot of attention to what I said, because it seemed to matter to her. I made several references to my wife, and asked about her husband. I even in passing made a clear reference to the fact that: A: I don’t cheat, and B: I never regarded my friend as a sexual partner candidate.
(B) is only partly true. I never regarded her as a candidate ONLY because of (A). But for (A), I’d be on this lady as fast as she would permit me to be. I kid myself that perhaps she would be on board.
I walked her out to her car, and realized that I really, really wanted to make out with her. Not fuck her, mind you. I just wanted to pull her face to mine, and hold it there while kissing her mouth, and maybe take that lower lip between my teeth for a second before putting my tongue to hers, gently, then harder, and then pulling back to see if she pushed toward me again. I would have hugged her while kissing her neck, then her face, and then put her into her car and walked away.
But I didn’t. I hugged her and said goodbye, and walked away with some shame and a fair bit of regret. Given that I was going to feel it anyway, I kind of wish I’d done it.

But maybe reading this now you’re glad you didn’t. Maybe.

I love my girlfriend. She loves me. We both started to have feelings for a mutual friend. Long story short, she likes us too. We had a really good talk, and we’re going to try out a triadic relationship between the three of us.

So… do you have any advice? We’re all pretty new to this. And by ”this” I mean everything. Our new partner has never been kissed. My girlfriend and I were each other’s first time. We’re all new to poly. We just love each other and want this to work. Help, we’re only 19 and advice would be So appreciated.

I have a lot of readers who are experienced with polyamory, and others who are just smart about relationships, and still others who have a fair bonny bit of common sense. I know they’re out there. I am asking these people to dispense some amazing advice for these three 19-year-olds.

Mine is just this: however much communication works for you in your monogamous dyad, you will probably need roughly nine times that much to sustain a triad. Talk about things you didn’t even realize there were words for, if possible.

You, reader? Confess something.

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Life. Lately. Has been crazy. Crazy and awesome, and really quite crazy.

The bits and pieces are manageable, but altogether it’s almost too much to process, which means it’s challenging to write about. Much easier to shake one’s head, overwhelmed.

I haven’t felt regular whelmed for a little while now, really.

Short version of an update: Yes, I think I am polyamorous. I don’t say this just because I’m dating multiple new people simultaneously, but also because of how much I find I revel in the happiness they each get from their other relationships. That’s how I know shit has gotten real.

The poly I want to do — the kind I’m beginning to identify as– is not the kind where I am a person with myriad needs, and I cultivate relationships with various, well-suited people to get those needs met. It is very much not the kind in which I try to make up for a lack in a primary or preexisting relationship by going further afield. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with those models, and I’ve even considered them at times, but they don’t resonate with me at present.

The way I see poly, for me, might be simpler. Simplistic, maybe. Naive, even, maybe. It’s this: People are so awesome and I want to kiss them and stuff!

Yeah, dating within an intricate spiderweb of lust and love and interaction is necessarily complicated. Can’t get around that. There have been moments of stress. Poly is pushing me to learn to communicate better, to consider more people’s feelings, to consider my own feelings, and honor them. To confront my weaknesses, to swoon more often and better. And it’s probably not just the poly, but the particular awesomeness of the people in question. I think, though, that part of it is poly and the way it challenges me.

I know I can function monogamously. I’ve never cheated on anyone; I’ve always abided by whatever agreements I made. I am exceedingly good at following the rules I explicitly sign up for. But monogamy is less and less interesting to me as I make peace with myself. For me, wanting someone to devote their sexuality to me alone has always sprung from a place of fear and insecurity. It created the illusion of safety, of mutually-assured obstruction. I never had a wholesome reason to desire monogamy.

I say I never did. Keep in mind that my relationship with myself has not been entirely wholesome in the past, which is significant. There are perfectly healthy reasons to desire monogamy, undoubtedly. Similarly, there are healthy reasons aplenty to desire heterosexual relationships, but when a lesbian marries a man just because that’s what’s expected, or so she won’t go to hell, those healthy reasons are not in play. I could be wrong, but I suspect more and more lately that I’m wired for polyamory; maybe you’re wired for monogamy. That’s awesome. Let’s not make out, but only because that’s how much I respect you.

(image source)

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For about thirty minutes last week my kissing life flashed before my eyes.

I’ve been making out with some people lately. Maybe other things too with some of them, but let’s focus for a moment on the making out. At this point in my life, if you called me a kissing slut I probably wouldn’t correct you. This is one of the ways, of course, in which my life kicks major ass.

One other way is that my health has been much better than usual for the past six weeks or so, allowing me to be out of bed and into people’s faces more. Until last week, when some acute infection brutally slapped my throat with a pus cactus. Which is why I was sitting on an examination table with a short, bright-eyed man chafing my hands, about to peer at my tonsils.

“Are your hands always so cold?” He asked me.

“Yes.” Sometimes it’s rather convenient. You can do ice play without running to the kitchen.

“Did you walk here? Is that why they’re cold?”

“No. They’re just cold.” He took out a tongue depressor and looked into my throat.

“Mono,” he said. “Have you ever had mono?”

“When I was 18.”

“This looks like mono. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” The literal truth.

“Good, because if you have mono you can’t be intimate. We’ll do a quick test right now.” Having had mono, I knew that kissing fell under this intimacy umbrella. Not only that, but I knew that even though I’d felt remarkably well (for me) a week ago, I might have been contagious already for over a month.

Shit.

As a friendly, frizzy-haired nurse came in and tried to poke my finger for a blood sample, also expressing dismay at my cold hands because it was harder to squeeze enough blood out, I thought about what mono would mean for me right now. I would have to contact all my recent makeout partners and tell them I might have gotten them sick. I would possibly have to watch some of them grow sick and miserable for a long while, knowing I and my slutty, slutty lips were responsible. Meanwhile, I myself would be sick and miserable and cease to enjoy my recent run of good health. Also, my spleen would be enormous.

Then it dawned on me, this must be what it’s like to have an STI.

The nurse returned fifteen minutes later telling me we hadn’t gotten enough blood, so she stabbed another finger as I wondered how long having mono would mean going without making out with any sexy people.

I was playing pokemon on my DS but really composing a form email to warn people of my infectious face when she announced that the test was negative. My doctor returned and told me he thought it would be, and prescribed me antibiotics for my bacterial throat infection.

It’s clearing up.

But I almost had a not-quite-STI, and it was scary. Also, I couldn’t kiss the people I wanted to kiss on Saturday because, well, throat infection. But everyone’s spleens remain comfortably normal-sized for the time being.

But if it had been mono– and certainly if I had an honest-to-goodness STI– I know I would have sucked it up and told people and refrained from spreading the contagion further, however uncomfortable or inconvenient it was. There was never any question. Period. My fun is not worth anyone’s illness.

Which reminds me: April is actual-STI awareness month! Let’s all get tested and stuff.

(image source)

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I’m posting ConTuesday rather late today because of sleeping rather earlier last night and later this morning than I originally planned. In fact, I might still be recovering from last Friday’s play party, which I will be telling you all about in the next few days. But here are the confessions of the week, better late than never!

I may take a nap later, actually.

Dear QP, how’ve you been? I’ve been looking at your sex confessional for so long now and it’s been looking back at me. Eyeing me. Tempting me with it’s portal to… your inbox, I assume.

So there’s this guy. I’ve known him for so long I’m not sure whether I’m in love with him or if I just love him the way friends are supposed to.

My main problem is that about ten years ago, we had a kind of relationship. You know how some people have fuck buddies? Well, we didn’t. We were more like make-out buddies.

I always think make-out buddies sounds a bit pathetic, but it was intense. I think partly because we didn’t do anything even close to having sex, even though I’m pretty sure we both wanted to.

So anyway, fast forward to today and I just can’t tell if I wanna nail him to find out what it would be like (ie, confirm my suspicions) or because I really, genuinely am in love with him.

But this isn’t my real confession, it’s just background details. My REAL confession is that everyone I know is getting engaged. My sister just got engaged recently. His brother got engaged earlier this year. He’s been in a relationship for five years. What if he decides to hop on the bandwagon?!

And it’s not even that I’m jealous of his girlfriend. I want her boyfriend, but I don’t hate her for having him and not me. But I can’t exactly confess my undying love to someone who’s in a happy relationship, can I?

UCK I feel sick.

The sex confessional does indeed want to hear your worries. I only wish I had some good or even marginally helpful advice for you. Can you confess your undying love to someone in a happy relationship? Absolutely. But it might suck for everyone involved. Maybe honesty is the best way to go anyway, but, it seems like you’re not even sure if you have romantic feelings for this guy.

The only thing I can say with certainty is that makeout buddies doesn’t sound pathetic at all. And I feel for you. This sucks.

I just had surgery and I haven’t orgasmed for over two weeks and if I start my period before I can finally get myself off I’m gonna pissed. This seemed like the only place for such a frustration to be vented.

I hope you’ve had a clutch if not a clamor of orgasms since you sent this in.

I bought the pill today (Lutera). I haven’t been on the pill in years. The last time I was on the pill, I didn’t feel like myself. I bled all the time, was nauseated, depressed, gained weight, had horrible cramps and no sex drive. My grades plummeted, I lost some friends (due to being so withdrawn and emotional). I was only on it for three months, but it was hell. That time, I wasn’t in a relationship (or even having sex at the time). I only took it to help with my endometriosis, but it didn’t work.

Now, I’m about to start a different pill. I’m in a happy relationship, and I’m scared that the pill will change me so much that it will ruin my life again. I talked about this with my doctor, but she said there was ”nothing to worry about.” I’m so nervous though.

I have been in a sort of not entirely dissimilar situation, and I was shocked at how okay I was on the new pill. Now that I’m not on any hormones anymore since my boyfriend’s vasectomy, I think I actually feel a little less balanced at certain points in my cycle, if anything.

So I hope you’re having a good experience with your new pill.

Last night I attended a party, among the guests were 5 men that I have slept with, all of whom work at the same bar and are friends. A couple of them are still total secrets as they have girlfriends or are my good friends exes.
Usually I feel proud of my sexual conquests and I don’t have shame in expressing that, but seeing them all together just left me feeling cheap…

You know what I think? Fuck slut shaming whether its origins are internal or external. I mean, who are we kidding, the demiurge of slut shaming is pretty much always other people’s bullshit hangups.

Vent, rejoice, confess here.

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Hey, there! It being Tuesday and all, what do you say we take a look at some internet confessions? That seems like it could be pretty sweet.

There’s this guy. We work together. He’s a nice guy but because I’m very shy and socially awkward, we never talk. A couple of weeks ago I noticed his body. I have known him for several months and yet it was one of those moments I never believed in. When you look at someone and suddenly realise… ”sweet!”.
He’s not my type. He’s the opposite of every guy I’ve ever (wanted to) shag(ged). And I don’t notice him the same way. I don’t want to jump him. It’s not the same feeling.
Instead, I want to kiss. I want to lie somewhere and kiss. Him. And talk. Nothing else. The thought of having sex with him doesn’t do it for me. And believe me, I’ve tried, just to make it a little less weird.
Just thinking these things, of how I want to kiss him, of how I definitely want there to be strawberries and cream involved (random, huh?), it feels dirty. Far more dirty than thinking about shagging that really hot guy who works a couple of desks down. And more intense. I want to kiss this guy more than I want to shag that really hot guy. Even if there are no orgasm involved.
Strange.

I have a theory that sexual orientation is much, much more complicated and gloriously varied than most people have the time or inclination to think about. This would be an example.

I hope you get a chance to make out. I hear that office holiday parties are good for hook-ups, so if that’s not just TV and movies making shit up like they do, you have a little time to screw your courage to the snogging place.

I like to play with myself after good p in v sex. Because really, what’s better than orgasms than more orgasms? There’s something awesome about getting another while he’s in the kitchen pouring our next drink, and I’m in the living room continuing the fun.

I can find absolutely no flaw in your logic here.

My wife asked me to fuck her.
In our pool.
In the backyard.
Outdoors.
At 4 p.m.
In full view of the neighbors.
Neither of us came, but it was enthralling nonetheless. She did, however, follow it up with jerking me off in the shower. Then later that night she jerked me off while massaging my asshole. The next morning I made her scream like a pot star while licking her clit. It was a GREAT weekend.

This sounds hot. I’m clean distracted, though, trying to decide whether I should assumptively correct “pot star” to “porn star”, or if it’s possible that the former is a real thing and I should get with the times. Best to just leave it.

I have a drama I want to figure out on my sex blog, only I can’t, because the guy involved reads it. AIIIIIEEEEEE!

I never realized how dependent I was on the blog for my processing until I suddenly couldn’t have it.

Sometimes I wish I could just write exactly what’s going on with my love/sex life, and be completely honest, and more vulnerable, and a hell of a lot dirtier on my sex blog. But at this point way too many people I know read it, and there’s just no way. So I really feel you on this.

ConTuesday to the rescue? I hope?

I’m the girl who’s having an affair with the guy who’s 8 years younger. I guess I should say ’had’ since I haven’t seen him in 3 months. I’ve still had more sex this year with him than with my husband. Is it bad that I’m counting?

You know, there was a time when women weren’t allowed to learn math at all! So no, it’s never bad to count. But I hope that either you and your husband have caught up by now or that you don’t mind the disparity. I hate to see people feeling stuck in sexually frustrating relationships, and I hope that’s not you right now.

Now go here, everyone, and spill your sexy secrets!

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Tuesday is, etymologically speaking, sacred to Mars (who was equated with Tīw, the Norse god of combat). Tuesday is also the day sacred to sex secrets. Fact.

The interesting thing here is that Venus was cheating on her husband with Mars, but that wasn’t really a secret at all. I think pretty much everyone knew. Oh, those wacky gods! Here, have a ConTuesday.

I can’t orgasm during intercourse unless I use a vibrator, so I usually introduce the new guy to assisted sex fairly early. So far everyone has been more than accommodating, some have even grown quite fond of ”Bob”, despite the noise. Sometimes I worry I am creating an army of guys who are secretly turned on by the sound of electric toothbrushes and kitchen appliances.

I don’t see a problem here. Toothbrushes can be sexy.

I’m pregnant. Lately, every time we have sex, pre-milk comes out of my nipples. I’m not sure if this is really a confession, since I think this happens to a lot of pregnant/nursing women, but JESUS CHRIST IT IS SO FUCKING WEIRD.

Hey now, pre-milk can be sexy.

I’ve had a confession about being deprived of sex by my partner posted here before and this is an open/anonymous confession I really hope (but sadly doubt) my partner will read and recognize. I love you. You are the love of my motherfucking life, but your stingy withholding of sex is driving me around the bend. It’s not rational. You need therapy if you can’t be open and honest and real with me in the most sexual sense. I’d go furry for you. I’d wear any outfit you could name. I WOULD DO ANYTHING YOU WANTED– debase myself in any way you could name– if only I could feel like we were sharing something deep and intimate. I have no shame and I’d live to give you pleasure every moment, but your chilly selfishness is killing my desire for you. You should have been honest with me about your sexuality (or lack thereof) when we embarked on this relationship and I could have made an informed decision based on reality instead of hoping that one day you’d realize that this is the one life we get with these wonderfully functioning bodies, and that it’s very important not to waste this. You are officially/unofficially on notice. I’m not asking for a 3-day fuckfest– just a teeny little stab in an erotic direction. Timid, I could understand. Shy– eminently forgiveable. After how open and giving I’ve been with you, for you to be sexually closed-off from me is unconscionable. We are doomed, unless you grow the fuck up.
P.S.– I might have an easier time believing you were ”non-sexual” as you claim if I didn’t find lesbian domination porn on my browser when I came back from out of town last weekend. The worst part of this is not the sex– it’s how stupid you believe I am.

Okay, I kind of see a problem here. You sound miserable, in fact. I hope things are better now than when you sent this. I know what it’s like to be in a relationship where I’m not getting sex no matter how hard I try, but I don’t know what it’s like to stay in that situation for too long. Because both times, I honestly couldn’t deal with it.

I don’t like the way the guy I’m dating kisses. I don’t care enough to tell him, though. I think that second part is the most tragic part, too.

I think I might agree.

Do you also not care enough to break up with him? Or is the kissing part of the relationship just not that important to you?

Confess your sex secrets here!

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