quizzical pussy

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

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

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

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

Although you kind of can…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, everybody, suggest impact toys!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coming here now hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway, confess stuff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, well probably not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOUND HIM! More confessions will be forthcoming, definitely.

First thing: ::internet high five::

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

Confess here.

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I nipped at her ear, and swirled my tongue just So against that spot behind her jawbone. I could feel her small moans, her fingers clutching at my shoulders, and her arms buckling, and pressing her down further on me. She’d never done this before, and being the one to show her was an amazing privilege.

I laughed quietly by her ear. She shivered.

“How’re you doin’?” I whispered.

“G-good,” she said, legitimately breathless. A pause. She laughed at the edge of her breath. “G-great.”

I could hear, feel the smile on her lips, and nothing had ever felt so right.

I don’t like to do caps too often and I think you guys know that but CUTE.

My boyfriend is a sex god. I’ve had numerous partners, many of them skilled with their hands or tongue, but I don’t think I knew what good sex was before this. He’s perceptive and sensual, foreplay and post-play involve teasing touches and/or gentle caresses that leave me physically trembling under his fingertips. Being in bed with him is a totally safe and judgement-free zone. He’s fascinated by finding new ways to arouse me. The amazing, spectacular thing is that sex is not over when he comes. Not only is he generally mentally present instead of sleepy afterwards, he’ll continue to stimulate me until I come (twice? three times?) or until he’s hard again. We stay in bed and play for hours. He’s also the only guy I’ve encountered whose sex drive matches mine. Fucking fantastic.

This goes beyond an internet high five. This is just pure, unadulterated living the motherfucking dream and I couldn’t be happier for you if you had a pet sugar glider. Those little guys are so adorable.

I left my girlfriend of two years for my best friend… in principle it was the right thing to do, because I share a lot in common with the latter, in terms of our love of books and film and witty banter. She’s the perfect person for me. But… after two months of trying (I returned briefly to my girlfriend during all this drama) I just give up: I had to admit to myself I have zero sexual chemistry with my friend. And she meanwhile is way deep in love with me, and obviously really likes sleeping with me (the lack of chemistry is only one-way).Maybe I just don’t know how to talk to a partner about this stuff. But what do you say? “You smell and taste a little weird. Your kissing is slobbery and you have a huge tongue that you keep jamming into my mouth or lapping up and down. You’re never subtle, or still. You keep telling me (only half-jokingly) I ‘fuck like a lesbian’ and have to learn to do it the right way. [Note: My ex is bi.] You’re too rough. You’re just so large I can’t figure out where to put my legs or arms, and my cock goes soft while I try to sort it out.”I think in part the problem is that I’m largely service-oriented even when I’m being dominant: I don’t care much about cumming a lot, I mostly like the opportunity to tease and toy and get more forceful. — And my friend is also service-oriented: she’s used to abrupt, violent sex, giving excruciatingly lengthy blowjobs. And she grabs at and sucks my cock hard and relentlessly. It feels like a total mismatch of styles/preferences.So: seriously communication problems, obviously. Which are easily solvable. But there’s also a basic level of I’m-just-not-feeling it that makes me not want to solve those communication problems.

I was in an open relationship and it’s also been a bit cold-showerish to deal with the realities of monogamous dating: the constant edginess around mentions of my ex or other people I’ve been entangled with; “have you been on OKCupid? What are you doing on Craigslist?” (oops… old habits… my gf and I used to love surfing the personals and bringing the really sexy or really stupid ones to each other’s attention); the accelerating expectations for frequency of contact and visits. Not her fault: that’s how she likes her relationships, and that’s the social norm anyway. But it feels like alien territory to me at this point. Jealousy is such a drag.

Anyway, so I just told my new gf I’d rather just be friends. Predictably, she can’t go back: she’s cut me off, and who knows if that will ever change.

In the meanwhile, my old gf is also, of course, saying that either I should return to her, or else for her own sake she needs to end that friendship too. None of the reasons I left in the first place have changed, but on the other hand I really miss the incredible sexual chemistry we had, and of course I still care for her in many other ways too.

It’s looking like pretty difficult times, in a mess largely of my own manufacture.

I don’t like to do caps too often and I think you guys know that but SUCK.

I will never understand unilateral chemistry. I’ve lived through it from the no-chemistry-here side, but it may never stop perplexing me until I live through it from the other side. Then I guess it’s possible I’ll be less perplexed but my face might be sadder.

QP, i’m in such a fantastic state of postcoital bliss that i can’t even begin to talk about it.

but i’m gonna try, anyway.

my partner and i have been together six years, and like most long-term couples we have our ups and downs in the bedroom. lately, we’d been in a bit of a rut, and hadn’t had sex for maybe 2 months. then i went into the hospital for an emergency that led to surgery, which took me out of the sex game for another month.

i thought i was horny before i went to the ER…then, while hopped up on dilaudid, i had the MOST RIDICULOUS SEX DREAM EVER. i remember none of it now, but i woke up with my hand in my underwear. talk about awkward when the phlebotomist came in at 5am that morning!

anyway. got home, HORNY AS HELL, but unable to do anything for a month. and i got more and more frustrated. today, we finally decided to give it a try.

QP, we had sex six hours ago and my nether bits are still trembling. GOOD SEX IS GOOD, AND I HOPE EVERYONE HAS GOOD SEX ASAP.

that is all. i hope this made you smile.

We’re also told that drugs and wrong, and that sex and drugs are incomplete without rock and roll. But I think the first is often championed by people who haven’t tried the right drugs, and can we just remember for a moment that electronica and anarcho-cabaret punk exist? Let’s not limit ourselves, people.

I went down on my guy after he’d already orgasmed once or twice, he didn’t think he was going to be able to do it again.

He came so hard he actually passed out.

I wish I could put that on my fucking resume.

Dating resumes could be a thing.

I took a video of myself masturbating so I could see what it looked like when I squirted/gushed. It was so hot that I got off a couple more times just watching the video.

Fuck yeah. I wonder if anything could be more right than genuinely leching after oneself.

Confessions go here!

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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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What’s the key element that makes someone a partner-partner or even a life partner and not just a sex-and-conversation-and-video-games-or-whatever partner? Is it a decision or an emotion or both or something altogether else? The more I think about it, the more I actually don’t know, although on the surface it seems like a relatively simple distinction. The more I think about human relationships, in fact, the more I feel like an alien.

It’s weird¹ how you guys only have one heart.

I am in love with my best friend of three years. My bestie is brilliant, witty, dependable, loyal, and attractive. Great long-term relationship material…which I’m looking for. He isn’t, much to my chagrin. Which only makes me love him more. Anyway. We’ve been strictly platonic for most of those three years. And yet…

Bestie and I have recently decided that we should start exploring a more sexual side of our friendship (initially his idea). We’re both relatively submissive, sexually, but he offered to try his hand at being the more sexually dominant one. We decided to “take it slow,” and have only tried PIV style sex once since we embarked on this journey, two months ago. Instead, I send him emails about what I did over the weekend with the vibrators he bought me as an early Christmas present. And he gives me “homework assignments,” telling me what I can use to get myself off, in how much time, and to report back to him about my experiences. I give him copious amounts of head, which I thoroughly enjoy giving. And he bends me over kitchen counters and spanks my bare ass with spatulas until I’m scream so loudly he has to cover my mouth so we don’t scare my landlord. And sometimes we masturbate and watch lesbian porn together.

All in all, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful new era of our friendship. Even if it’s a slow-moving one.

Sometimes relationships appear to be adaptogens that just kind of work how you need them to. It’s either magic or science or neither. ::I.H.F.::

So I’ve been dating one of my best friends since the beginning of 2012. It started after a year of hilariously awkward unacknowledged sexual tension (and, incidentally, a year after I got out of a really awful, manipulative, unfulfilling relationship that taught me to associate sex with the not-nice kind of physical pain).

My current boyfriend is only the second person I’ve had sex with. We’re also poly (which is GREAT seriously I have no idea why more people don’t do this) and both into certain BDSM acts. The sex is fantastic.

But since my not-very-nice relationship? I’ve had some trouble reaching orgasm on my own. With a partner, it’s even more difficult. And my boyfriend is utterly wonderful about this, and is all for burying his face in my pussy for half an hour, fingering me (he’s amazingly good at this), and fucking me from behind while slapping me on the ass with a leather glove when it comes down to it.

I utterly adore this boy, but I sometimes feel really, really lousy that I can’t come more easily. Like it doesn’t matter how much I tell him I like our sexytimes (and, oh, I do — is it weird that I can have a really good time during sex without orgasming?) if my body won’t up and show him. And it also feels like somehow I’m not really in touch with my own body, and what kind of sex-positive kinky feminist can I be if I can’t even orgasm when I want to? I know this is ridiculous, but it still just really bothers me.

Everyone I personally know who’s told me they can’t achieve orgasm also enjoys sex because it feels good (there are people out there who do not feel this way, but I don’t know them), and I know many people who can orgasm but don’t particularly care for sex. The ability to have orgasms may be more like having your ears pierced than most people believe.

You know what, even if I’m the higher libido partner, even if I know that mostly if I won’t pursue sex I won’t get it, some days I’m allowed to just say ‘fuck it’ and not make an effort for sex if I’m not feeling it. I get to say, “You know what, I know you’re in the mood, but I’d kind of like to read right now.” Even if that means no sex. Reading time is important, too.

Sounds completely valid to me. Just because you want sex more often than your partner doesn’t mean you have to want it enough to drop everything the minute they decide they want it. You’re kind of a real person too. I guess the only real issue here is if you’re actually resenting your partner and trying to punish them by giving them a taste of what you feel when you’re rejected. That would be denying you both sex out of spite, and I’m pretty sure that is not a good policy, but you’re probably not doing that. You probably just legit want to read, so carry on.

I was friends with my current partner for six years before we became FWB and, later, primary partners. He’s since told me that he’d wanted to be with me for essentially the entire time we’d known one another.

Sometimes, I masturbate to fantasies of him masturbating, years ago, thinking of me while believing he’d never have me or thinking about how he might have felt the first time we’d fucked. I feel like a huge asshole and bad feminist for getting off on, retroactively, being the unattainable dream girl, but it just gets me so hot.

Okay, let’s get something clear: no one here is a bad feminist, that I can make out. It’s okay to get excited by someone desiring you when they had little hope of fruition. That means their desire was pretty strong, which can be sexy. Or creepy. Depending.

I semi-recently got a genital piercing (I’m male), which I’ve already confessed – and then somewhat more recently, after feedback from my girlfriend, got two more.

I absolutely love them. She does, too.

Our sex was already great. They have made it spectacular. I cannot describe the feeling invoked by the fact that I can hold my girlfriend in constant orgasm for thirty minutes. Not a series of orgasms, either – one long, continuous, she’s-muffling-her-face-in-a-pillow-to-drown-out-her-yells orgasm.

I used to count her orgasms. (She enjoyed the orgasms, but wasn’t quite as keen as me on beating previous records.) I don’t even bother anymore – I can already push her past the point where she cannot stand another second. And I haven’t even tried a vibrating barbell yet – I even own one, bought before the piercings had healed enough for sex.

We’re in an open relationship, and I’m really looking forward to seeing how well this works for other women. In nerdy terms, I feel like I’ve found the cheat codes for sex.

Oh, and they feel fantastic for me as well. She’s equally thrilled by what they let her do for me.

::I.H.F.:: like truly. But since you’re in an open relationship, I just want to give you a heads up that I’ve heard of condoms breaking more than average with pierced penises, so watch out for that.

This weekend I was at a party where a lot of people wanted to have sex with me. And have sex I did, with some of them.

Today I am subjecting myself to the worst kind of slut shaming. See, in my head, none of these people wanted to sleep with me because I am attractive or interesting or kind or whatever motivates people, but because I *will* sleep with people.

Clearly none of them are attracted to *me* so much as anyone who will put out. And how unfair is that to everyone involved? Now I’m impugning their judgment as well as mine. Knowing that this kind of thinking is utterly ridiculous and being able to stop doing it are two entirely different bags of worms.

The worst part is many of the close friends I might have shared this with were kind of involved in the sex or at least the wanting. So, uhm, anonymous internet venting for the win?

Is it possible that these sex partners actually wanted to have sex with you, not just to have sex? I can’t know without literally being in their heads, but it seems probable, actually. I am slowly learning that people who consciously callously use others are not as common as we most of us fear.

Earlier this week I had sex with this guy I’ve been dating for the first time. Beforehand, I’d been worried that we might not be compatible, but it turns out those worries were for nothing. It was almost 24 hours of movies, fucking, snuggling, and the most delicious fingering I’ve ever received.

Except that, now that my sex-worries have had their asses collectively kicked, feelings-worries have been jumping up and down yelling “Ooh! Pick me! Pick me!” I really don’t think I’m ready to be having warm-gooey feelings for somebody again, but… sexy awesomeness! I like him way more than I want to. So today, I keep alternating between joyful giggling and gut-wrenching panic. Why is it that my brain or my genitals can be happy, but never both at the same time?

Because limerence, probably. It’s perfectly normal. You’re perfectly sane and experiencing something that lots of people have to deal with, and it wears off eventually and can most definitely age well and become a full-fledged healthy relationship. You just have to ride it (and him) out.

Confess. Earn snark and inept advice and internet high fives.

1. But cute. [↩]

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I recently went in for my six-month STI screening. Feet were placed in stirrups, blood was drawn, nethers were swabbed, and pee collected. Questions were asked and answered.

It quickly became apparent that I have too much sex¹. Specifically, sex with more people than the pleasant clinician would strictly like me to. After I silently tallied names on my fingers and told her how many people I’ve had sex with in the past year (and admitted that I don’t use dental dams), she snapped on her serious face and showed me a chart illustrating how having five sexual partners exposes me to the pathogens of 31 people. STIs are on the rise, she said.

I didn’t explain to her that I have deep emotional connections with everyone I’m sleeping with right now. I don’t think that matters to microorganisms. I understand that my lifestyle leaves me more vulnerable to infection than if I were in a monogamous relationship²; that’s why I get tested every six months. My ideologies, and to some my behavior, make me basically a slut. I accept that, and I enjoy the hell out of being one. I’m cautious and ethical about it out of respect for myself and my partners, not because I’m ashamed or have any misgivings.

The clinician loaded a paper bag with pamphlets, dental dams, and condoms for me. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all those flavored condoms; I assume there’s something sinister in them that makes them taste like something other than condom. But I can use the unflavored freebies for my strap-ons and save my fancy expensive condoms for fleshly members. Corking. “Make sure you use these every time,” she smiled, “that way you won’t have to come back and get tested again.”

“Oh, I’ll be back in six months,” I told her, also smiling. “Latex isn’t infallible, and I think routine testing is a good idea.” I didn’t mention the fact that I probably won’t use the dental dams. Safety’s important, yes. Absolutely. But realistically? Not to denigrate them, but I’m probably never going to eat pussy through a dental dam.

Thing is, I’m going to persist in being a slut. I’m going to keep getting tested. I’m going to keep having multiple partners as long as multiple awesome people want to sex me. And I’m going to try to make sure I stay free of diseases and babies and kanji tattoos³. And life will be pretty much amazing.

(image source)

1. For the record, I don’t, and in fact am convinced that’s impossible. [↩]
2. Provided neither of us cheated, which is statistically not something we can safely assume. [↩]
3. Results have come back, and I am indeed free of all these things! [↩]

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A lot of the confessions I get fall into one of two categories: frustrated or triumphant. This makes sense because when we’re talking about desire, those are our two possible outcomes. In the years I’ve been curating secrets, I’ve discovered a truth that seems too obvious to require stating, but I think I’ll do so anyway: the easiest and most surefire way to achieve sexual frustration is to keep your desires a secret.

I want a world where we all agree that we each deserve as much pleasure as we can get. That wouldn’t make us obligated to be the administrators of one another’s pleasure, but it would be only decent to support and maybe even facilitate safe pleasure-taking as much as possible.  Once you get past the mythology of sex as sin, is there really any compelling argument against maximizing pleasure in a reality where life is so damn short?

So I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry I judged you, furries.

I wish I could re-do social indoctrination, with more reasonable scripts. I have a good relationship with my husband, but I still get blindsided by the insecurities rampant in our culture. Intellectually- masturbation is fun solo, a boredom and stress reliever, and porn helps put it on auto-pilot. Porn, especially easy and quick-to-access porn is not terribly high quality, and marketed to the lowest-common-denominator – thin, conventionally attractive people doing naked things.

And yet, when I walked in on him yesterday, my jerkbrain jumped straight to: I’m not enough, he’s going to cheat on me with a skinny tanned blond gal with big boobs…

WTF? I know he loves me, I know why we both look at porn and get off solo sometimes, and intellectually I don’t care. But I confess, sometimes being intellectually there doesn’t transfer to emotionally there…

I’m going to share a secret with you that it’s taken me quite a while to learn: you can’t trust your emotions. None of us can. That doesn’t mean that they’re not important, or that they don’t need to be validated and cherished and coddled at times, but do not let them tell you what’s what. They aren’t you, and they’ll lie.

Oh, and your body is surpassingly lovable and feverishly fuckable. FACT.

I love my husband, but I am not even a little bit attracted to him any more. He’s my best friend, and the best living/financial/coparent/life partner I could ever hope for. I still enjoy giving him attention and affection, but he no longer lights any fire at all in me. I would still rather grit my teeth and bear a few nights of awkward sex a week (because it’s not BAD, just not exactly wanted) than ever leave him. He means more to me than anybody else ever has, and I am still very romantically attracted to him. I just wish his libido would go away. That’s my sad little sex confessional.

I feel like this happens more than most people are brave enough to admit. I always wonder how it works or why it happens, though. Are you still sexually attracted to other people?

I wish I knew what you wish for you.

i had a boyfriend that i loved very much. we had a lot of problems though, and i broke up with him a few times but we would always get back together. we decided to try out an open relationship. i have always wanted to try this out, and for about a week i was deliriously happy with the idea even though i hadn’t taken advantage of it yet. our sex life tripled in amazingness and we shared all our fantasies and talked about making them happen. i felt like were on a magical adventure together.

but then the same old problems reappeared, worse than ever. he couldn’t accept that i loved him and wanted to fuck other men, and he called me a stupid whore in a non-sexy, non-consensual context. i dumped him yesterday and i am heartbroken partly because now we can’t live out our fantasies together. i am also scared that i will never find someone who can actually handle an open relationship with me.

Okay, right off, I’m seeing a couple problems with that relationship. One is that it seems he is a monogamous person, and you may not be. Another is the fact that he resorts to abusive language when he feels threatened. In my opinion, you did well ending things. Get in touch with your local poly community, if there is one. You’ll find people who are handling openness to varying degrees of success, some of them quite high. You may not find someone to date (although you might), but you’ll begin to see that people like this exist, and that can be revelatory.

oh, QP…

I was just in the hospital for emergency surgery, and MAN IS IT HARD TO GET OFF IN A HOSPITAL. i haven’t had the opportunity to have sex with my partner in a few weeks, so i was already horny before i went to the ER…and when they moved me to a room and stabilized my pain, dear lord. the sex dreams were driving me nuts! i found myself with my hand down my panties MORE than once.

and even though i’m home, now i hurt too much to have sex or masturbate. NOT FAIR, QP. NOT FAIR.

Some frustration is entirely beyond our control. Definition of NOT FAIR, totally.

I have recently had a “sexual awakening” I guess you could call it. For once I was able to be honest with myself, something was missing. Sex was always good with my husband but I felt like I needed something more then just sex.

I have taken more interest in BDSM, I told my husband and he is O.K. with it. He is a little timid and gentle with me but we are still new at this. I know I like sensation play, spanking, biting, heat and cold things. I enjoy some pain but I am not sure to what degree yet. I don’t know if he will ever be comfortable enough or want to push limits with pain. I enjoy light bondage which he seems to have a hard time with, he says he is interested but we will have to wait and see. sometimes a combination of any of these things is all I need, I don’t need P-I-V sex all the time although its always a bonus.

I think I am O.K. with my need for these things, I’m not sure but I think I am. it was hard for me to accept that this isn’t “strange” or “wrong”. However I have fantasy’s that I am not as O.K with, That I will never be able to express to my husband.

I have rape fantasy’s of being used and called a whore. of many men using me one after the other or even just one man using me in any way he wants, as long as its rough. I just can’t bring myself to be O.K with this. I have fantasy’s of age play, not a young young age just late teen early adult, college freshman age. I want to be a good girl told to do bad things by her man. I want him to make me his little college harlot. However my husband is a teacher and it freaks me out. I desperately want these things, need these things and I don’t know what to do about it.

Alas I guess I will go back to reading about other people doing these things, that should help.

Hey, so did you know? You deserve all the pleasure you can get, in the way you want it. You have no obligation to want pleasure– or just want pleasure– in the ways that other people find acceptable. If your desires don’t cause harm to anyone, they’re okay. When you believe these things, life will open up like aroused labia.

I’d really like to get over my hangups and scarring. I feel like I’d be a more whole and far happier person. But, I fear that it might rob me of my sex drive. That’s probably stupid and irrational but it’s there and it scares me.

You can always get more hangups and scarring if life turns out to be worse without them. They’re easy as fuck to collect.

I’m the #3 poster here:

When I was with my ex, I was jacking off 1-2 times per day, and frankly, I never once thought of her; not my type and a dead fish in the sack. I did finally manage to orgasm while having sex, but it was literally 1 time in 6 months of dating, and it was literally a half second after she told me she missed her past week of birth control pills >.< Not going to lie, that was a major part of why she’s my ex. I’m constantly thankful that she didn’t get pregnant.

With my current girlfriend, I jack off maybe once a week, and I think of her constantly. I feel bad because I compare her to my ex, but she’s so much better in all ways it’s not even funny. For one, she’s my “type” mentally, physically, and emotionally. For another, she’s deliciously responsive.

On a slightly different note, every time she orgasms–fingering, oral, or PIV, it doesn’t matter–she cries, and she always whimpers during the process while gushing about how amazing I am. What’s up with that?

::Internet high five:: for finding someone who inspires you to make her cry and whimper in wonderful ways. And yeah, some people just do that. Sometimes there are reasons like trauma, and sometimes it’s just a response to being overwhelmed by pleasure. Might be something to have a conversation about, if you haven’t. She sounds awesome.

Confessional

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I’ve decided I miss the actual blogging part of having a sex blog. To wit, I miss writing about my love life and my ideologies regarding boning. And telling you guys what I masturbate with. And to. And stuff.

I might be happier than I’ve ever been. I almost certainly am when it comes to my love life. But now that I’m committed to multiple people who are in turn committed to multiple people, it feels harder to write about my relationships than it used to. If you think about it, there are more people involved in all my relationships than there used to be, thus more complexity. So the math checks out. More importantly, though, I really don’t know what I’m doing. Not that I was ever an expert at relationships, but with poly I’m in a special level of out-of-my-depth. I don’t know what my relationships are “supposed to” look like at this point. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to have rules, or what they should be. I don’t know what to do when things get hard. I don’t know what my rights are in the kind of relationships I have. I don’t know anything. I’m practically Socrates, but I honestly think I’m probably cuter.

Because yeah, pretty sure...

So the very last thing I want to do is start writing about polyamory like I know a fucking thing about it. Because I don’t, and I’m beginning to wonder if anyone actually does or if we’re all just winging it just like we’re all doing all the time with everything. And occasionally someone will have a moment of clarity where everything seems to arrange itself in a neat little grid, and then everyone will decide that that person is amazingly smart and knowledgeable and ought to be listened to. And maybe that same someone gets fooled along with everyone else and buys into their own hype, but that doesn’t change the fact that the grid is an optical illusion and we’re all just flailing, aren’t we? Especially when it comes to love.

So I think maybe I’ll write through the flailing more often.

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Did you know that today is International Transgender Day of Remembrance? I want to talk for a moment about how much transphobia sucks, but I don’t know firsthand exactly how much, to be honest. I know it’s worse than I can comprehend. I know it kills people. Actually, no, it’s cis people doing the killing– making the active choice to harm human beings for no other reason than their gender expression.

I want to remind cis people that we have privilege. I want the violence to stop. I want us all to stop not loving one another.

Trans* people, I can’t wrap my head around how hard it is to experience gender dysphoria, or transitioning, or living outside the binary, or transphobia, but I know it probably surpasses diamonds on the Mohs scale. I know I have some trans* readers, and some trans* confessors– maybe more than I’m aware of because not every confession discloses those kind of details, nor does it need to. It’s just another cis privilege to assume that an anonymous confession is coming from another cis person unless otherwise specified.

Now. Here are some confessions.

I have always been extremely sensitive to touch, texture, etc., to a really ridiculous degree. This results in a huge amount of pleasure for me (my favorite piece of clothing is a bamboo shirt, because it just feels SO good to wear it!) but can also be very annoying. For most of my adult life, I was so sensitive that sex was often difficult. Being touched too lightly tickled terribly. Being touched too hard HURT. Cunnilingus was impossible – almost painful. Touching my nipples without having me yelp and hit the ceiling was something that only two people (out of about 25 sexual partners) ever achieved. (It was so bad that in order to wear clothes during my period I had to put tape over my nipples). Orgasms with other people were very rare, because I just overloaded.

A few years ago I hurt my back, rather catastrophically. I’m now in chronic pain, which sucks, but it has also had an unexpected side-effect! Two years ago, I was put on a medication called gabapentin, which relieves neuropathic pain. It definitely helps with the pain, but it has also de-sensitized me somewhat, and opened up a whole new world!

Now people can suck on my nipples, stroke my belly, even lick my cunt, and I love it! It’s no longer insanely ticklish or almost painful – it’s amazing! The difference is staggering. My lovers don’t have to be ultra-careful anymore, I enjoy sex without the constant slight anxiety that I’ll be tickled at any second, I come much more easily, more often, and I’m suddenly having multiple orgasms (7 is my highest count so far). DAMN!

It’d be nice if my back stopped hurting, it really would, but I never EVER want to go off this med. I’m having more sex, with more people, and enjoying it far more now that I’m disabled by pain than I ever did when I was healthy. Chemistry for the win!

Sometimes even chronic pain has a silver lining. Mine is called “encyclopedic knowledge of nutrition and supplement esoterica”, and it seems a lot less sexy than yours, I must admit.

I have a gay friend who hates it when men ask him if he’s close. It kills his boner, well for me I hate it when people ask me if things make me wet, it kills my girl boner.

As a recently post-op trans-woman I haven’t learned yet how wet it’s even possible for me to get. So being asked means I try quantifying how wet I am as if there’s some ratio of how wet per units of horny. The math does not work!

So the confession and the lovely bit. I love it when I hear the wet sloppy sound of fingers, toys, genitals in my new vagina. I’m learning more about it every day and while I can’t tell how wet it is, I’m over come with excitement when I hear that it’s wet… very wet.

The math works for no one. The Pussy Wetness Unit (Imperial) is not the standardized metric of horniness. Even the horniest people sometimes need lube. But! ::Internet high five:: for the lovely bit.

I have bright-fucking-pink-hair and 50-inch hips. I’m plus-sized and have struggled with loving my chub-tastic-ness ever since I can remember.

And I have to say, waking up to my husband’s fingers kneading my lovely rolls and burying his face in my hair while telling me how much he wants to fuck me is the most empowering feeling ever.

This makes me smile, and not to be creepy, but I bet you’re sexy as fuck.

I’m going to miss my girlfriend’s dick once she transitions. A lot. I am, of course, super excited to have all kinds of crazy new sex and figure out how to have our old kinds of crazy sex in new ways and I love her and I love her body no matter what it’s shaped like. I’m not that enthralled about pussy, no matter how much I love women, but I suspect her pussy will convert me (in the same way that I wasn’t much on dick until I started fucking her.)

But OH MY GOD, HER DICK, IT IS SO PERFECT. It is the best dick in the entire world. It was made for my vagina. No one else will ever get to fuck that dick except me, and I will miss it until the day I die, in the same way that I get teary thinking about summers when I was a teenager driving with my friends with the wind in our hair, I will reminisce about her dick that way. I feel like a huge jerk. Like I’m not supporting her enough in her transition/identity, regardless of every other single thing I do to care for her and love her. Because I love her dick so goddamn much.

I have this feeling that you’re really going to love her pussy. Spoken as a total queer girl, I know…

I’m in a nonexclusive long-distance relationship with a beautiful woman. We met and had awesome sex before we knew about each other then names and where we’re from and sometimes I think we fell in love there and then, although it took a while for our brains to realize it.

She has two lovers, one of which she has a BDSM thing going on with for a while now. While I like a bit of kink in my sex, I use it as a spice. I’m not a BDSM person, whereas she enjoys it very much.

Because of that, I was a bit nervous and felt somewhat intimidated at the idea of her having a BDSM lover, fearing to become jealous about him giving her things I can’t give her and so on. But at the same time I felt secure enough in the relationship, and in our ability to communicate our own and respect the others feelings that I wanted to give this a try.

(If it hurt me or made me feel sad, I knew I could talk to her and we would work at a solution.)

Two days ago, she had her first Date in a while with that lover, and I was curious and excited (And nervous as hell.) to hear about it. When she told me yesterday, I realized I wasn’t jealous.

At most, I was envious, because the things she told me about made me so horny and excited, I wanted to fly to her right then and there, grab some restraints and toys on the way and do all kinds of kinky, naughty things with, and to, her. Hearing about her being dominated by her lover, and about her dominating him, gave me loads of ideas of things I’d like to try with her.

While I worry that there’s some competition thing going on there (Which I very much don’t want.), I’m still happy that, instead of feeling all jealous and hurt, I can be happy for her and excited about it instead. It makes me realize that I have grown as a person and gives me a good feeling for this still very new relationship.

Now I just need to find a way to see her more often (FU, long-distance relationship!!!) and oh what fun we will have! ^-^

Congratulations, you may be in a healthy open relationship! They’re not incredibly rare, but they take serious work and skill. You rock and your partner rocks.

I have this weird feeling in me all the time. Like there’s so many lovely people around me, and I want to do something with them, like some people I just want to watch while they’re nude, some people I want to touch or taste…

But I’m so afraid of people touching me or seeing what I look like without my clothes. It’s gotten so bad that I can’t wear thongs because they make me really, really horny, and I don’t even go to the beach anymore because I hate the way I look so much.

It’s like the more I know that I’m unlikely to ever do anything with anyone, the worse I feel and the more yearning I have.

There are people who get this weird feeling around you. Like you’re so lovely, and they want to do something with you, like see you nude, or touch you, or taste you. They want to reach inside your thong and hear your moans of pleasure. Believe it. Believe it. I assure you it is true.

Confess things!

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Life is magic, I reckon. And love even more so, whether it’s purely chemical reactions and neurology or not (maybe even moreso if it is). But sometimes there are those moments that seem to have a little extra pixie dust. They’re special. They’re like magic with magical sprinkles on top.

Just last week, I had the first good orgasm I have ever had with during solosex! I’ve been enjoying partnersex tho, and thought that “I can’t do sex alone, need a partner to make it fun and satisfying” I am so happy I was wrong!

::internet high five:: for blowing your own mind with your sexual power.

i just spent all day in bed with my partner, getting up only to make some amazing ramen. i feel like i won on both the cooking and the sex fronts today (four times!).

we talked about what sex things we wanted to try with each other, and in the process got totally horny and had to fuck again. that particular session had him making me fuck myself with a dildo and jerking off while he beat me with his belt until i came, and then me putting the same dildo in his ass and making him fuck himself with it while i jerked him off, then made him lick his cum off the floor.

i’ve never been with someone so awesome before, in every sexual and non-sexual way.

Sex, hugs, and ramen. And deviant sexuality. It’s the kind of day you could live over and over and over.

So my girlfriend (who’s also a reader of your blog) and I were discussing unlikely fetishes the other day and we ended up with her going “Fuck me like a fax machine” as I make dial-up noises. Hysterical laughter ensued.

I think I’d like to date an improv comedian because of basically this but with even more “Yes, and…”

I’m tempted to bitterly complain about coming home late and finding my girlfriend in bed… with my wife.

But in reality I’m bragging :-)

It’s really interesting to me that for some people that would be devastating, and for others it would be living the dream.

I wasn’t able to orgasm at all with a partner until a few months ago when my boyfriend spent the night. I fell asleep before him and he woke me up with his you-know-what in my you-know-what (which is my biggest and most naughty fantasy). I came three times AND I squirted. All over him. Which I didn’t know I could do until I felt I was going to explode and I Soaked him and the sheets a total of four times. He was so excited that he made me orgasm… It was perfect.

Orgasms are some of my favorite magics.

If decency is to be maintained, the boyfriend and I simply cannot be left alone.
We have gone on an adventure, climbed a tree, and ended up perched precariously ten feet above the ground with our hands in each other’s pants.
MUST CUM ON THE TREE TO ESTABLISH DOMINANCE.
Apparently that’s now his “favorite tree”.
Mine too.

That tree is blessed. Praise the humping gods.

Just got my first dydoe. (Male genital piercing; pierces the rim of the head.)

Didn’t hurt nearly as much as I was expecting (it did hurt, but I was expecting black-out pain), and the post-piercing rush is incredible. This might be better than sex.

I’m considering getting the full set around, for a king’s crown, now. I totally see how this experience is addictive. Anyways, I had to share this with someone.

There’s probably a reason people like to turn piercing into a ritual. It’s a path to an altered state.

If my husband gets the job he’s currently angling for, he’s going to be away from home for a couple months a year. That’s fine and agreed-on. We just had a discussion as to exact limits of fidelity while he’s away (I’m free to have sex with other women [but not men], he isn’t but can ask permission if he really wants someone specific so long as they play it safe).
It makes me so happy that I can talk to him like this, plain and frankly, that I can tell him that yeah I do kinda want sex with other men, and have it be ok with him since he knows I won’t act on it without his okaying it.
I love having the boundaries clear and well-defined, and believing that our relationship is adamantium-strong and can withstand just about anything. I love him so, so much.

The most magical thing of all may be a secure and trust-based relationship. I’m not saying that to be snarky because they’re rare, which I think they are. I’m saying it in earnest because I really, honestly believe that for most of us, life can give few gifts most precious. And because, as any proper magician will tell you magic requires, it takes an enormous amount of self-awareness, will, and humility to attain.

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