quizzical pussy

Tuesday. Good day to read some confessions from the internet’s anonymous.

I just Googled ”sexless marriage”. Pretty sure a little part of me died tonight :(

Some people are perfectly happy in their sexless marriages. And then there are the people who aren’t, and I wish we could sprinkle them with magical orgasm dust and make their sorrows go away.

But I guess that wouldn’t be practical. I’m told magical orgasm dust is technically not a thing.

I turned down an interview last minute with an escort agency because they wanted me to shave. After decades of being told how I should look, giving up how I’ve chosen to look is the dealbreaker I never thought it’d become.

The sex industry knows better than anyone that there’s a market for how you’ve chosen to look. Fuck ‘em.

It distracts me from my work. It distracts me from my relationship. I’m getting sex maybe once a month from the woman that I live with. Our relationship is pretty good, but I’ve made no bones about the fact that sex is extremely important to me. I am vocal about my needs. I try to schedule dates. I send her texts and emails while she’s at work. I create times when we’re alone together. When we HAVE sex, she comes roughly 99% of the time. (Actually, more than me. I’m probably at 95%.)

She tells me that she feels like there’s always something more important that we should be doing. To me, the man who has told her how extremely important sex is to my relationship, this feels like a slap in the face.

Please, someone invent magical orgasm dust. People are suffering.

I know a guy with enormous hands and I’m in absolute awe of them. I keep thinking it’s like he’s got 11 cocks. I’ll bet one or two of those would feel amazing in my pussy. And other places.

The thing I adore about hands is that size is an issue, but in the most inclusive way possible: on one end of the spectrum we have tiny little fisting hands (awesome) and then there are decacock hands (also awesome). Do you see how much everybody wins all the time?

My boyfriend sometimes talks in his sleep. Last night we were cuddling and he was out like a light, he shifted and my half sleeping brain thought he was trying to get his arm back… I shifted up to let him roll over, and he wrapped his arms back around me, palm cupping my breast, pulled me close, and growled into my ear “I want you.”

Then he snored. Still, it was one of the more erotic things that’s ever happened to me, and if it weren’t for him having to get up in the morning and me being on my period ( getting up to remove a tampon would have spoiled the mood) I would have attacked him right there.

Tampons ruin spontaneity less than babies do, so it’s hard to even be mad. Also, so cute!

This isn’t very secret or exciting but more of a fun trivia from a kinky girl.

For all the things I’ve done when it comes to sex (the kinkier the better) I’ve never given oral sex!

Just the thought of having a nice, sexy dick in my mouth is revolting. Yes, I like dicks, very much actually, but not in my mouth. I do fantasise a lot of giving blowjobs, deep-throating and all such but I just can’t bring myself to actually do it when it comes down to it. Either I’m not an oral person or it’s just a hang-up and I’ll someday meet that special dick which will be my first blowjob. (Or maybe I have to get drunk and see if it works then?) The other thing is though; the thought of giving oral to a girl (sadly not tried yet) gives me the feelings that I would not mind that at all. (And then fucking her with a strapless strap-on of course!)

PS. OMFG, You are amazing! I only recently found your blog and I’m reading through all of it and have wanted to say that in every other post now.
PPS. Blowjob is such a funny name! (non-native English speaker here)

(Feel free to edit out the last part!)

I’m not editing the part where you say I’m fabulous, obviously. Or the part where you say that blowjob is a funny name, which is really just factually true.

As for the other part, oral sex isn’t for everyone. Maybe someday you’ll find the One Delicious Penis for you, but in the meantime it seems like you and your partners are having fun anyway.

I get an occasional email from a secret admirer I’ve come to believe understands me far better than does my RL boyfriend. I’ve no idea who/where he is or what he is like, but he sent me something today that for all its tameness made me want to run off into the sunset with him. There was also a stirring in my nether region. I can at least dream of escape.

If you feel like your current relationship is something you need to escape from, it seems like it mightn’t be terribly hard for a mystery person to top it. But I can see how there would be something splendid and giddy about having a secret admirer who seems to know all the right things to say, so maybe that’s all you mean. Hope so!

I have had a woman freak out at my circumcised penis. I don’t even know why I’m circumcised, I’m not Jewish or anything.

It was very disconcerting.

You might be circumcised because that’s just what happened to babies with penises in the region and time you were born. In my opinion, there isn’t a practical reason for it in most cases, and there are scads of ethical reasons not to take the choice of whether to have foreskin or not away from a person, newborn or otherwise.¹

Perhaps the woman who freaked out did so because she’s used to being sexual with men who were born in a region and time where most of the penises remained intact. Where I come from, women are more likely to freak out over uncircumcised penises.

They’re just penises, ladies. Relax.

Confess things.

1. I cannot mention circumcision without the requisite “stop cutting children’s genitals!” statement and I’m not even going to try. [↩]

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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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There once was a time I sincerely worried that ConTuesday would die a stunted, quiet death. Would people continue to send me their secrets? Would they run out of secrets? Would my internet form work correctly? Was I going to be homeless and die (totally relevant)?

Things did not turn out that way, and I still have unposted confessions in my inbox that date back as far as last November (note: I do not strictly post these things in the order I receive them). I will get to them. I will. I swear.

My husband and I got a dog recently. She gets really confused when we have sex. She’ll wander into the room to investigate the noises, then howl or try to jump on the bed because she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s too short to actually get on the bed, though, so we can just see the top of her head or the tip of her nose over the edge of the mattress. Her earnest confusion/concern is just so funny. I kind of love it because giggly sex is the best.

Why is it that when a dog does that it’s adorable, and when I do it it’s just creepy? Is what I’d like to know.

Seriously, though, I think the most crazed a dog can get about its master having sex is when it’s a heterosexual dog who is very bonded to an opposite-sex human. Extra crazed points if the dog is descended from a warrior race. Aldo Melastophilus had a sweet, playful, Chow mix, and every time he started paying attention to me she would try to wedge herself between us. I don’t think she would have minded much if I’d died, actually.

So my boyfriend of over a year, who was my very first partner and who I have since tried several things with (roleplay! vibrator!) that I would never had dreamed of, has a much stronger sex drive than I do. Or maybe I should say I have a much lower drive than he does. I feel like I never really *need* sex – I never masturbated or had real sexual thoughts before I started dating him. But this does bring up awkward situations in our relationship, where he is super horny and I am not, but feel bad, and so sometimes will try and work myself up to have sex with him. I don’t know if there is a way to fix it or work it out better or anything.

Unmatched sex drives are an utter puzzlement to me. Not because it’s weird that they’re a thing, but because I can’t think of many solutions that don’t involve extreme compromise on one or both sides, or non-monogamy.

If you want a higher sex drive, there are some standard things to consider. If you’re on birth control, that might be adding to your lower sex drive, even if you feel like it was naturally low in the first place. Other medications may also be a factor. You can also add more exercise to your routine, as your mobility and energy permit. It’s one of the safest things you can try, and many people find that it makes them hornier for reasons disparate as “feeling hotter” and “more balanced hormones”. Keep in mind, though, that having a lower sex drive than your boyfriend is not intrinsically a problem. If your mismatch is indeed a problem, it belongs to both of you. No one is right or wrong in Libido Town.

My most recent fuck buddy and I both work on a relatively esoteric subject and can’t discuss it with many people. The other morning we went from crazy fucking, to talking about our subject, to him fingering me while I sucked his cock while he talked about our subject, to more crazy fucking, and back to our subject, all seamlessly. It was a relief to share two of the most important things in my life with one person who appreciated them both.

This is probably a ramped-up version of how geeks tend to feel the first time they first fuck a person of compatible geek type. Like coming home, innit?

We got caught. His best friend saw us through the window. I don’t think she’ll tell, but I’m scared and embarrassed. I’ll probably never be able to look her in the eye again.

I have no idea what you got caught doing, but I have unshakeable faith that my readers would never, ever do anything to be ashamed of. Hold your head high, my friend.

I don’t have a partner, and I’ve only ever once almost had p in v sex, (he was saying no) and this depresses me a ridiculous amount. It’s like I have these incredibly stupid standards I set for myself, but all I really want is some guy to fuck me.

And it’s a bit of a cycle too – I feel so inexperienced and socially/sexually retarded so that it’s all of a sudden so much harder to initiate anything.

It’s not juicy, in fact kind of lame, but hey. All types, yeah?

All types. So true. If I didn’t believe firmly in the concept of “all types” as it applies to attraction and sex and love, I would have never felt worthy of those things from anyone. And for a while I didn’t, but now I want a time machine just so I can go back and hug self-loathing me. And win the lottery.

You are hotter than you will probably ever grasp, is what I’m saying. Anyone you share your self, body, time with has pretty much won the lottery without the inconvenience of procuring a time machine.

I worry sometimes that the reason my husband doesn’t initiate sex more often, or say yes more when I initiate, is that I don’t make it good enough for him, that I’m lazy and selfish.

This counter to the fact that he told me numerous times that he likes what we do fine, mind you. So it’s probably just libido mismatch and paranoia. I hope.

Is he on birth control? Does he exercise?

One day I will have a good response to the libido mismatch conundrum. I’m working on it.

Hi QP! Maybe this is a boring confession, but I just stuck my finger up my butt!! I’ve never been into anal before, but I was on one of those random chat/webcam sites and masturbating with some random guy, and I was getting really into it and he started talking about anal and I just DID IT. I even got myself off with just my finger in my butt. Oh man. I feel so exhilarated.

There is no way I am telling my boyfriend; he’s told me there’s no way he’s into anal, but I had to tell somebody so I am telling you!! Thanks for letting me share :)

Your butt is not boring, and don’t let anyone ever tell you that!

Sex Confessional

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Do you ever masturbate to something and when you’re finished think “I cannot believe that I was able to find that erotic a moment ago”. This has happened to me, but I have trouble feeling guilty about it. I normally say “Jeepers, but I’m complicated” and move on to the next orgasm.

Of course, maybe this means I don’t even know from sick and twisted, which I would also be okay with. Anyway, know thyself and accept thy darkness, even if thy darkness keeps a night light on.

I never, ever, being single, fantasize about women. But when ever I date a guy I start wanting to suck and plump lucious lady nipples.

In the 1950s and ’60s, the United States government ran experiments on human mind control on uninformed, non-consenting subjects. Using psychedelic drugs, electroconvulsive shock treatments, hypnosis, and other methods to manipulate mental states and actions. “MK-Ultra”, as it was code-named, was dissolved in the late ’60s and brought to light and openly condemned in the ’70s. However, conspiracy theorists insist that the government hasn’t given up on mind control, and the research continues in secret under a new code name: Monarch.

I am not saying they’re right. I’m not saying that you’re being controlled in any way. All I’m really suggesting is that it might be time to stop dating C.I.A. agents who want threesomes.

I had sex for the first time a couple of nights ago. I thought I’d really enjoy it, but when I look back at it, all I feel is this powerful sense of regret.

I kind of wish I could talk to someone about this. Hopefully an anonymous confession to a total stranger’ll be cathartic.

If you’re regretting it because it wasn’t very good or because this person wasn’t “the one”, I hope it helps to know that first-time sex that’s mind-blowing and with the person you’re destined to be with until death do you part may exist in real life. I have yet to meet anyone who has had that experience, though; I think it’s mostly propaganda.

If you’re regretting the sex because you weren’t ready for it emotionally or in some other way, that sucks. I hope your next experience with sex– whenever it happens– is better in every way.

My boyfriend’s sex drive just disappeared. He hasn’t felt sexual in months. We used to have a good sex life but he doesn’t even masturbate anymore!

He’s a changeling.

Or he’s on medication. Or he’s depressed. Or he’s got a medical issue. Or he’s a changeling. I don’t know, I think it’s pretty common for a person’s sex drive to wax and wane all throughout their life. This can make it pretty ridiculously frustrating to be a person’s partner, though, so my heart goes out to you.

I spent the weekend with my boyfriend’s family, and met his older brother for the first time. His older brother is 22 years older than I am — getting into early-old-age territory — and I found him so attractive that I had to distance myself a little from him in order to not give it away. I could tell that he found me attractive, too. I wanted to have both my boyfriend and his brother in bed with me for the entire weekend. The thought was so hot, but I know that if a boyfriend of mine seriously fantasized about me and my sister, and there was a mutual attraction between them, I’d feel more than a little insecure.

Yeah, I think the rule for  incestuous threesomes is that any non-related person involved should not be the one to bring it up.

I can’t believe I think there are rules for incestuous threesomes.

While visiting a friend a few weeks ago, I realized that she was my archetype of femme hotness. She’s what I’m looking for in a woman. It was…highly confusing, as a crush on her is what brought me out in the first place, and I had a threesome with her a few years ago that was really boring. And we’ve been growing apart over the last couple years, to the point where I’m not sure she even likes me all that much, more going along with our friendship out of habit.

She’s using a love potion on you. Run!

I think I love you. Because I know I can be whoever and whatever the fuck I want and there’s nothing wrong with me.

This is a good bottom line to end on. We can be whoever and whatever the fuck we want and there’s nothing wrong with us. I like that.

Confess!

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I’m stupid horny. I long for touch and desire and orgasms. My mind burrows again and again into a thousand dark places where lust, where friction breeds. I’m distracted, maybe even a little fixated. I want sex and sex and sex. Now, please.

So I should really be looking for rebound sex right now. Shallow, animal rebound sex with no strings attached and even fewer inhibitions.

But right now I just can’t even imagine how to start to do that.

Sure, I love sex. Sure, I have no interest in only ever fucking my One True Love (and trust me, that ship has sailed), or even only having sex with people with whom I’m planning a future of furniture shopping and timeshare family holidays. And yeah, I have a sex blog where I write about boning. I’m fairly frank about what a freak I am.

That doesn’t mean sex comes easily for me. Because I increasingly have to trust you first, and that has never come easily for me. I can love you and not trust you. I can try to trust you, my newborn trust just trying to get its legs underneath it, and something that may seem trivial– a memory from my past or a reason to doubt your honesty– can crash down on it and snap its neck. I have a graveyard full of these dead beasts.

When Laramy and I started dating, it took me a couple months to be ready to have sex. Our personalities clicked almost instantly, and his patience and willingness to go at my pace helped me relax and let myself fall for him. Eventually, I felt so safe with Laramy that it somehow extended to other sexual relationships. I could trust new people more quickly and readily since I felt like I had the foundation of a solid relationship underneath it all. I believed someone had my back no matter what.

Now I don’t really know where I am. I don’t know what my present pattern is when it comes to trust and sex. The idea of truly casual sex makes me feel even more lonely. Still, I find it hard to imagine trusting someone new in the abstract. The pain is too fresh yet, and the thought of having something solid and comfortable with someone again feels unrealistic, even though I don’t subscribe to any One True Love philosophies. Will it still seem so hard once I’m actually in the middle of discovery and sexual tension and playful banter with someone awesome? Well, probably not. It will probably be as natural as breathing.

Although I’m not a champion breather, come to think of it.

I got massively, catastrophically hurt. It has happened before, and it may happen again. But I also now know for the first time that a relationship can be, for the most part, good. It can be a positive force in my life. And I want that again. Someday, if I can get there.

But why can’t I just get laid first and not worry about any of that? Why does it all have to be so fucking wrought? I don’t feel like I’m on the rebound; I just feel deflated.

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I lay no claim to being exceptionally dateable. It can’t be easy to let yourself fall for me, and maybe it’s not even smart. I realize everyone has their own personal red flags, but logically, I must live in much of their overlap.

When you read discussions about evolutionary psychology, debates about weight, or even conversations on general attractiveness, someone will always raise the point that human beings are fundamentally attracted to health. This probably seems like a diplomatic, benign way to speak about physical beauty: Can’t we all just agree that we’re programmed to read signs of health as beauty? Isn’t health really the most important factor in choosing a mate?

Every time I hear that, read that, I flinch just a little. It’s such a casual way to tell someone that no matter how she actually looks,  she doesn’t count as pretty.

I am not healthy. My body has not been healthy for several years. I am disabled; I am sick. I have debilitating fatigue, chronic pain, a compromised immune system, and a low tolerance for activity.  I wouldn’t have a breath of a prayer of surviving in the wild. Despite the fact that even I get mesmerized by my ass sometimes, in one sense I’m unattractive on the most basic level. And even ignoring bullshit theories and pseudoscience, being in a relationship with me day-to-day must be frustrating.

Want to do a fun activity together? Depending what it is, I might be able to do it if I have a week’s notice so I can rest. And a free week after, so I can rest. Want to do a fun, spontaneous activity together? Haha fuck you no.

Feel like grabbing a bite to eat together? Okay, but right now I’m off gluten, dairy, sugar, and fifteen other things just in case it helps my illness. So far it hasn’t helped much, but it means we definitely can’t order that pizza. Also, I bring my own sugar-free ketchup or wheat-free soy sauce along, which I acknowledge might be weird.

Do you want a partner who can be your workout buddy? Who’ll go dancing with you every weekend? Who lives a normal, productive, active life? Who can work a normal full-time job? I’ll say it now: you can’t rely on me. I may never be this for you no matter how much I try.

Add to this the fact that even if I were perfectly healthy I’d still have my emotional issues and my weaknesses, just like anyone else, and most people would run away, sweating from the adrenaline rush of having just dodged a bullet. Wouldn’t they?

But I know something they don’t: I’m worth it. Not to everyone, maybe, but to the few, I’m so entirely worth it. I will love them so fiercely and sweetly, we’ll laugh together so joyously, and those things I do offer will bewitch them so thoroughly that my health will be a detail, trivia, like the maze of color in my eyes. Like the ridiculous songs I make up. Like the brownies I bake that I can’t even eat myself, but I know you like them. Like my insatiable lust for the people I love.

I’m no one’s textbook ideal mate. No one describes their perfect woman as always sick. But I make up for it. I try to. I have to believe I do.

(image source)

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ConTuesday is upon us! What secrets will be revealed?

I’m still kind of jealous that my partner slept with someone else a couple of nights ago, even though I’ve just come home from sleeping over at my other sweetheart’s house. It’s hard to give other people the freedom you want for yourself. At least, it is for me.

I think far more people feel this way than would ever admit it. And I think the perfectly reasonable reason is often this: Say you and I are in an open relationship. I know how I feel about you. I know that nothing I have with my other lover would ever endanger what I have with you. I know that I’d be a idiotic beyond comprehension to jeopardize what I have with you. I know that.

But what you know? That’s something of a mystery. This is my theory, anyway.

Last week, I beat my submissive boyfriend more severely than I ever had before. He got so heavy into subspace that he had an intense orgasm without either of us ever touching his penis. Then we went and saw Harry Potter.
I just wanted to share that with someone.

An orgasm with no touching? You’re a wizard, Harry!

I love happy confessions like this. Doubly so when they’re kinky and maybe a little geeky.

Alright, I’ve got this fantasy. I’d love to anonymously fuck just some random girl. Either there should be absolutely no exchange of personal information or kind of an understood mutual lying about names and whatever. From there, just raw animal fucking with the understanding that we’ll never see each other again. This is one of those fantasies that will stay just a fantasy, but I don’t care. It makes me horny.

Rumor has it the 1970s were exactly this for ten years straight, except everyone was on roller skates.

I wish it could be with you.

I think we all wish that, my friend.

I mean… Wait. What?

I’m tired of feeling like I have to talk my boyfriend into having sex with me. He only ever wants to when HE wants to and it’s so frustrating to have him always decide when.

Ah, fuck-crossed lovers. These stories seem to end in tragedy far too often. I hope this one works out. I really, really do.

Come to think of it, there are so many fuck-crossed lovers that send in confessions I have half a mind to start a libido-mismatched partner exchange program.

If you have a secret, or are interested in our fictional sex-drive-matching services, go here and tell all!

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I should go see my doctor, and soon. I think my thyroid levels are starting to slip. The major clue is that my indomitable sex drive seems to be, well, domitting¹ a little.

How do I know? Same way the world knows a Uew Boll movie is going to suck: Experience.

Starting about four years ago I stopped having periods for ten months. Once I stopped freaking out over whether or not I was with child, which took at least two or three months, I noticed that my orgasms– usually so delicious, volatile and true– had vanished into thin frustration, and eventually I became pretty much indifferent to having sex at all². Blood tests, when I got around to them, showed that my thyroid hormones were stupid low. It turns out that those are important for non-sexual functions as well. Like, being alive and stuff. Oops.

Recently, my periods have been, to use the technical term, wonky. And my sex drive has seemed a lot more, for lack of a better term, normal. I still want sex. I still masturbate. I’m just less fixated on getting off than I usually am.

Having a lowered sex drive is actually a good thing right now. I don’t see Laramy all that much, so we don’t get a chance to fuck more than a couple times a week. Sex outside of my primary relationship only happens occasionally. I have not yet turned down sex. I wouldn’t even say that I’m entirely satisfied with how much I’m getting, but I’m much more content with my libido this way than the gnawing, snarling sex-hunger I’m used to feeling. It’s comfortable. It’s manageable.

But it’s not healthy. I’m almost sure the cause in an actual medical problem, and I’m fairly certain of what it is. There’s every reason to believe it’s going to get worse if I don’t run the blood tests and adjust my medication as necessary. There’s the actual health stuff to consider, as well as the risk that I might stop having orgasms if I’m not careful. I also don’t feel like me unless I’m a nympho.

If mad horniness is my superpower, kryptonite is happening right now inside my glands. And being the flawed character I am, I’m conflicted about it, but I’m going to do the right thing. For great justice.

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1. Don’t bother looking it up, by the way. It’s not a word. [↩]
2. At least with my boyfriend at the time, honestly. [↩]

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Hey, guys! Let’s have a ConTuesday, shall we?

I used to be a sex worker. To this day, it’s the standard to which I hold all of my other jobs (they don’t measure up). I loved my work, the customers, and the general feeling I got working only for myself.

I’m going into a field which, while it’s my absolute passion, completely crushes any possibility of me doing sex work ever again.

On the one hand, I’m happy to be out of a job where my worth is tied to physical beauty that is always (always, always) depreciating, and have a career where my value grows with my age. On the other hand, I REALLY LIKED THAT JOB!

God, I’m such a princess.

A princess’s beauty never (never, never) depreciates. Remember that. Also, I’d probably miss it too.

I’ve had sex once in the last 8 months with my wonderful, committed boyfriend. It sucks hardcore that we so rarely have sex (because I never have a damn libido anymore), but at least now I know why. I’ve recently been diagnosed with both an anxiety disorder and depression, and my shrink says the loss of my nympho-hood is primarily due to those conditions. While it still sucks not to have sex much, at least now I know why, so I feel a hell of a lot less guilty about it.

I have been on both sides of this dilemma, and I can honestly tell you that I completely fucked the whole matter up even more than it needed to be because I was too immature and petulant about it to really communicate with my partner. You guys seem like you’re navigating this situation a lot better than I ever did. Good luck finding a treatment that works for you. Hope you feel better soon, on every level.

I had an unexpectedly fantastic time at Kinkfest last night. I think finally I may have found people who will rock the friends who also have complicated sexy times together thing. It’s been way too many years since I moved away from the last ones.

I have to be honest here. I feel like this is in some sort of very thinly veiled code or something. It could be density, but I’m not entirely sure what you mean. But it seems positive. So fuck yeah high five!

I’m in a messed up place emotionally right now. Stuff is happening all around me and I don’t know how to react. I talked to my husband for about 5 minutes and he dismissed my feelings. I called my fuck buddy tonight to come over and cuddle and he turned me down. I feel a bit let down, but considering he’s the ”other man,” I don’t think I can feel too upset. So I called a male friend to come over and we sat holding hands and cuddling for a couple of hours while I talked it out. Now I don’t know what to think! If only I could wrap the three of them into one person, I’d be sooo in love with him :(

If I could wrap King Arthur, Vin Diesel, and Feyd Rautha all into one person, I would challenge that guy to an arm wrestling match.

No one would be surprised when I lost.

Go to the Sex Confessional and tell me something scandalous!

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ConTuesday confessions hot off the internet! There will be boobs and pudding, but that’s not all…

For my age, I would say, most people believe I already had at least one relationship. It is, somehow, accepted by society that I should. Fact is, though, that I haven’t. I never went further than a french kiss. More that is not much of a confession. The thing is, if I were to buy a sex toy, I would have no idea what to do with it. I never even touched myself, let one felt the urge to.

Most people do seem to expect everyone to share a desire to date and fuck and masturbate. But they’re ignoring and marginalizing a ton of people when they do. I think it’s important for even sex maniacs to remember this.

My boyfriend is amazing for me in bed, and amazing as a person in general, to the extent that I’m pretty sure he’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with – but I can never quite let myself go completely with him when we’re sexin’. Not because I’m repressed, or afraid he’ll mock me, but because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s a bigger guy and one of the reasons I’m so attracted to him physically is that I’m almost exclusively turned on by lads and lasses one would describe as overweight; he’s aware of this, but I’m always kind of nervous that I’ll accidentally slip up and tell him that his big stomach or soft chest is so hot when I’m distracted by lust. He’s really sensitive about his weight, and it’s such a fine line to tread, trying to tell someone you find them gorgeous partly because of a trait they despise about themselves. I wish he could see himself the way I see him; maybe it would stop him from thinking I’m prettier than him, stop him from feeling ugly whenever he has to get shirtless in front of anyone else… and stop him from wanting to get thin.

Weight is such a sensitive subject, but at the same time how can we possibly expand the idea of which body types are widely considered sexy if we don’t talk about it, if we don’t in fact revel in it? This may seem like advice, but it’s not. I’m just agreeing that you’re in a frustrating position loving an aspect of your boyfriend’s looks and self that he isn’t comfortable with.

There’s a small stain on the carpet of my old room in my parents’ house. My mom knows it’s from when I threw up during a visit a year or so ago. What she doesn’t know is that the vomit was about 50% chocolate pudding and 50% semen. I’ve since learned to be a little more cautious when deep-throating a guy, and to put down a towel first.

That was either like one spoonful of pudding or a fuck ton of semen, according to my calculations. Towels are really such a good idea for a variety of sexual acts. Also hitchhiking.

I just realized that I’m pretty much willing to show my boobs to anyone who asks, at least in theory. I think it’s because I respect them for being straight up and asking for what they want. As long as they don’t try to touch, it seems like a totally reasonable request.

Also, because boobs are awesome.

Boobs are awesome. I don’t really consider it a reasonable request when people I’m not close to/interested in ask to see my boobs, but I’m probably not as generous a person as you are. You also probably have better boobs, I’m guessing. Anyway, thank you for your contribution to society!

Now, dear reader, show me your secrets and tell me your tales.

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