I’m happily married and I get a lot of real, live, two-party, human-with-a-pulse sex. Still, I would love to fuck a RealDoll. That fact has me feeling pretty dirty.

I’m not sure I’m inspired; their eyes always look dead to me. But I hear there’s an intriguing suction effect. Also, I’m not saying it’s a problem to be into dead eyes, or indifferent to them.

Tried the “folded deckchair” with my girlfriend a couple nights ago, due mainly to reading about it on your blog here. Three words: Epic. Freakin. Oragsms. Thank you thank you thank you. She came so hard and so much her abs hurt afterward. You are awesome!

This was roughly the experience I had! Of course, this wisdom isn’t universal, but it has much to offer us.

Best argument ender ever: “Shut up and put your cock in my mouth!”

I see your point here. It always worked with my high school principal whenever I had to go to his office for having hot pink hair¹. Back when I could get decent fucking hair dye.

I feel like I have been wanting more from my boyfriend than he has been giving me. I then realized I had to appreciate the things he already did before I could ask him to improve on anything I wanted above that. Since implementing this into our relationship not only have I been happier, I also realize that he does little stuff all the time that I was overlooking. I feel much more loved now and all I had to do was open my eyes.

Snap. This is goddamn inspirational and wise and hope-giving! Score another one for Anonymous.

I want an illicit make-out affair. I don’t want to actually have SEX with somebody other than my husband, I just want to have (possibly sloppy) makeouts with a man (or woman, or men or women or both), preferably in a darkened office or a library. And then go home and fuck my husband. Is that REALLY so much to ask?

I don’t know. Depends. Have you asked? Monogamous people: are you allowed to ask things like this?

Or maybe the “illicit” part is important and it needs to be a secret. I don’t know, Anonymous. You are as complicated as you are sexy.

I’ve started squirting lately. It’s small, not very pornstar worthy, but it seriously freaks me out. I know it’s not a bad thing and the boyfriend loves it, so I don’t understand why I can’t see it as okay emotionally. I just feel dirty and weird in a bad way.

Are you associating it with porn? Possibly porn you don’t like? With pee? With something negative someone said one time? It seems like your brain is okay with squirting, but your emotions have to catch up. So maybe you can trick them. What if every time you squirted you said out loud “That was so sexy!” or something similar. I feel like our emotions always catch up with what we tell them, sooner or later.

Sex is always best after skiing. I’m really tired but for some reason being on the slopes all day makes me hot and bothered.

You rich people should stop skiing and start buying poor people new cars and better hair dye.

Just kidding. Enjoy your cocoa and orgasms.

I’ve never been honest about my number. Ever. I tell people it might be around 12 or so, but really it’s more like upper 30’s. I occasionally feel bad about it, but I don’t regret a single one of my 30+ sexual partners. They were all very special. Thanks, guys and girls!

I think this is kind of inspiring because you’ve found over 30 special people to connect with in very powerful ways, and you have no regrets. I want to be able to say that someday. And I’d like to live in a world where I felt like I could say it, and not have to revise it or be judged.

My boyfriend and I just started doing sexy-type things and I gave him oral (which I’ve never ever done before) and it was awesome! Penises are awesome! Blowjobs are awesome! I feel sort of strange about this since I’ve always thought girls weren’t supposed to like it, but ohmygod so fun! Luckily, he’s sweet and (very, very) okay with it. Is that weird?

It is so very not weird. I know we get told a lot of bullshit about this stuff, but girls aren’t really supposed to like or not like anything in particular. There are a lot of people of all genders who love giving blowjobs, and many others who hate giving them. Enjoy, and take care of yourself.

Sex Confessional

1. May not have actually happened in reality.

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They say other things too, and sometimes those things are also true. Or at least, if you believe that there is no real truth or some other loophole thing, feel correct. For instance, they say that doing something is making a choice, but doing nothing is also making a choice.

I’ve never been to the Atlantic ocean, but I fell in love once with the Pacific. Have you ever been to the ocean? Have you felt the electric ozone air spin around you and seen the stuttering waves beckon you? Staying where you stand is a choice, and so is plunging in. I mean, I know you might not have your bathing suit on and the water might be cold or hide sharks in the depths or display garbage on the shore, and all that might inform your choice. But you’re making one.

Is it the choice you’ll want to have made in twenty years?

Christ. I work in a law firm. I had drafted up a confessional about telling my partner that as much as I love the sex we have and as close as I feel to him I ‘hide’ some of my pervier fantasies and desires out of fear it will change things between us, and how after that we had the most spectacular sex because he was not shocked, but turned on, and because we knew we could really play because we’d discussed boundaries first. Anyway – it was this LONG confession about how we ended up playing with submissiveness and how great it was to be on all fours in front of him with my hands bound and licking and sucking his cock while he held it out for me with one hand while stimulating me with the other, and how we had such incredible sex that later I skulled about a litre of water because my mouth and throat were so dry from all the heaving and panting and groaning, and how just the feel of his face on my skin afterwards when I’m all post-orgasm electrifie d was amazing. Then I remembered I was at work and needed to make some amendments to a document and send it out a.s.a.p. Tried to shift a legal paragraph up in the document, and suddenly there’s my sex confessional in the middle of a letter to Council requesting a transfer of a strip of land. Glad I caught that in time. Just wanted to say I am so going to enjoy exploring previously unspoken desires with my partner, and stumbling across your blog was a big part of me saying ‘No. He knows so much of me, if I don’t show him this I don’t get to enjoy someone knowing all of me’. And joy of joys he was not shocked and appalled but entranced and excited. Safe, supportive, wonderful, sexy play. I’m so happy right now! :)

Every part of this confession makes me happy, perhaps especially the part where you don’t send your sexual fantasies as an Easter egg in legal documents.

I’m a 20-something bisexual girl. I have a wonderful fiance, and I love, love, love women. But it’s not something I share with many people–just those close to me. I’m not ashamed of being queer. But lately I’ve been wondering if I should come out to my family. I don’t feel like it is any of their business, and I know my mom who is a judgmental Christian will react poorly (she has every time I’ve stood up to her). The only reason why I would want to do this is because I think it may give my younger brother the courage to come out as well. I want him to be happy with who he is.

Sometimes coming out is purely an act of courage and love and not at all of necessity. I feel like this would be one of those times, and I want to give you props for considering it, whether you end up coming out to your family or not.

I wish my wife would have an affair.

And that I could catch her doing it.

It would make all the time I’ve been fighting for her, loving her, giving up so much for her, only to realize now that it can’t work and she’ll never change because she doesn’t really want to (no matter how much she’s sworn otherwise) so much easier to swallow. Because the break could be quick and simple. And easy to explain. No one questions when you end a relationship because one was unfaithful. And I’m so tired, I just don’t want to deal with questions. I just want it to be done. It would hurt, but it would be done. I find myself fantasizing about it. The relief I’ll feel when the divorce is final (because, affair or not, there will be one) is sometimes all that gets me through the times I’m with her. It was beautiful and I was optimistic once, but now I’m broken. And if she could just go out and fuck the shit out of someone, it would be so easy.

But if I’ve learned nothing else from this roller coaster, it’s that nothing about it will ever be easy. I look desperately forward to the day the decision is made, and even more forward to the day it’s over. The awkward conversations, the anxiety of just being in the same room, the mess of divorce, of one (or both) of us moving out. Things will be hard for a while; any change is an adjustment, but I can almost taste the relief. And no matter what’s difficult (emotional reminders, loneliness, losing friendships/family, money), my life will be so much better. I can be happy again. I need to stop this cycle; I’ve given it my all and more. And that’s all there is.

But the next few months will be difficult and complicated and, hard as I try to avoid it, full of blame and angry words and fighting. But at the end, I can start the rest of my life.

But man, it feels like if she’d just go cheat, I could skip a lot if it.

I wish you an amazing new life, whether you get to end your current one as “the good guy” per public perception or not. But really? Fuck public perception. You deserve to be happy today, and so does she.

Since I got a copper IUD fitted, my periods are twice as heavy as they used to be. Fortunately, my boyfriend isn’t squeamish about it – he’s perfectly happy to fuck me at my goriest. What I haven’t told him is that I actually like the blood. The intimacy of it, and I find the sight of red blood on pale skin weirdly beautiful.

“Fuck me at my goriest” may be the best phrase that’s ever appeared on this site, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

So for the longest time I’ve had this crush on a super hot sex blogger (I know this because I know her secret identity. The only reason I visit Google+ is to see her profile picture. It’s just her face, but daaaaamn. Anyway).

But she’s *just* broken up with her boyfriend! I have no idea how to proceed! Do I start getting more involved in the blog comments? Do I jump right to emailing her penis pictures? Buy her a sex toy? Is it too soon to tell her, or do I risk waiting and some other admirer beats me to it?

HELP!

Okay, I’ve got to be honest here: Based on when I received this confession, I almost suspected that it could possibly be about me. But then I realized how easy it would be to anonymously ask “Hey, how does one successfully hit on QP?” so I will assume it’s about another, even hotter sex blogger who broke up with her boyfriend at about the same time. And I would say that maybe you should talk to her on Google+ because at least there you’ll have some privacy.

Zing!

P.S. Do not send her a picture of your penis. This almost never works.

You probably hear confessions like this all the time…
I’m a married female who hates giving head. I can count on both hands the number of times I have gone down on my husband, and I have never been down there long enough to get him off.
Lately I’ve been fantasizing about surprising him with an anonymous woman (an escort? a random woman from the bar?) whose sole purpose would be just to give him head while I concentrate on the rest of his body. I think it would be very intimate and very hot, as long as she was not involved in any other way except getting him off and leaving. Selfish? Unrealistic? I don’t know. But I can’t stop thinking about it.

I can’t help thinking how much better so many people’s sex lives would be if prostitution were safe, legal, unburdened by its current crushing social stigma. What would be so wrong with bringing in a pro once in a while?

Hey, so confess things!

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Had a lover with a foot-long dick, no technique, and no desire to acquire any. I suggested mutual oral one time, got three or four quick flicks of the tongue, and then back to PIV. I faked orgasms just to get him to stop.

No offense to any incredibly well-endowed readers out there, but I think just the foot-long dick alone would be a deal breaker for me. I’m surprised anyone with a cock that’s potentially lethal wouldn’t want to bother to learn how to use it, and all his available alternatives.

I seem to run into a certain man every 2 or 3 years, and he always follows up with a phone call saying some degree of how he’d like to fuck me, but I’ve not verbally told him I had any temptation to follow through with him. I saw him this weekend, and he asked if the patterned stockings I was wearing were thigh-highs or went to the waist. I said ”waist” and asked if he has a preference. He said ”that kind, so I can do this:” and made a ripping open motion with his hands. He and I made loose plans to see each other in about a month, and he said he is going to fuck me nine ways to Sunday. I went out and bought more stockings today.

See, and if they’d been thigh highs, I would’ve fucked you.

Just kidding. I just wanted to be creepy. Have fun!

I never, ever considered myself a pain slut. Sure, I like it rough and am in a Dom/sub relationship with one of my partners, but I was never craving pain. Then, in the beginning of the summer, my boyfriend started using his leather belt on my ass. I was shocked at how much I loved it. Mildly hard play sessions were pretty regular until we had a pretty bad fight that separated us for a few weeks in August. After we got back together we toned it down a bit but just a few weeks ago I mentioned I missed the feel of his belt on my ass.

Well, this morning we had a pretty intense session with the belt and it hurt a lot but I was flying. He asked me if my ass still hurt afterwards and it did, but not that bad. It wasn’t until I was getting ready for work tonight that I realized I have some raised red areas on my backside. I feel so proud of them, like maybe I am a pain slut now, hehe. Regardless, I feel like a very good little sub and at least that I have a bit more credibility in the kink scene.

Yay for pushing boundaries and enjoying more things! ::Internet high five::.

In my personal-in-QP’s-head kink scene, credibility comes from playing safe, treating others respectfully, owning who you are and what you’re into, sharing your knowledge, and displaying a delighfully sick imagination. How much pain someone can take doesn’t even begin to figure into it, but exploring does.

I have a hard time climaxing during sex. It’s not that I’m not into it or I don’t have the ability; I just get distracted really, really easily. I almost need to induce a zen-like state in order to get off.

I found out today I can do this by reviewing Attic Greek verb forms in my head. I swear by all true gods, I am going to shoot myself if this becomes a fetish.

That… that’s adorable. I’m not fetishizing it! But it is.

The situation – a gloriously painful breakup of a short and tumultuous relationship, a little over a year ago. In between? Lots of sex and a committed relationship (that ended badly in it’s own right). And now? I am still hung up on the guy that dumped me a year ago! How??? Why???

…is it those broad shoulders, smirking half-smile, and messy hair – exactly my type, no matter the gender? ….is it the fact that I kinda wish I -was- him that I can’t get over him? …is it because he is inextricably tied to my nostalgia for Japan? What the hell is with my persistent attraction, resilient even though he is a total slut-shamer and indecisive lout?

I’ve never held onto feelings this long after being dumped. I just don’t get it.

I don’t know why you’re still hung up on a slut-shaming lout; I really don’t. I agree with you that linking a person to nostalgia is a good way to give them a lot more power over you than reason dictates.

It sounds like you actually, if you’re being objective, wouldn’t get back together with this dude. Remember why. Remember what was awesome about Japan that wasn’t reliant on him. Remember that there’s nothing he can offer you that you can’t easily do without, or at least find somewhere else.

My most recent ex both introduced me to the joys of anal fingering and possibly ruined it for me forever by fingering me even when I said no. I can’t think of anal without thinking of being violated.

I am so very sorry you went through this.

Dear Way-too-many-people-on-Earth: Why is the concept of consent such a hard fucking thing for you to understand? Seriously.

I’ve started sleeping with my best friend, I’m only really attracted to him when I’m drunk but everyone says we should be in a relationship and it’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to go out with him, I just want to have sex with him when I feel like it and still be best friends, is that too much to ask??

You will have to ask him if it’s too much to ask. He may even tell the truth.

Confess your sexy things here!

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I mean, I still wish I was eating pie right now², but it’s not bothering me that I’m not. And I can still celebrate cake’s more sophisticated and delicious brother in all his geeky glory. Without, um, eating him.

But seriously, eat a slice for me, will you?

Oh, and about that other holiday that’s happening today? These are my thoughts on that.

(image source)

1. Holy shit. I just realized I’m doing Lent. Kind of.
2. Seriously, whenever you happen to read this, I almost certainly wish I were eating pie at this precise moment. Because pie.

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Know why? Because the bottom line is I love love. I believe in it. And I want everyone to have it in one way or another. If romantic love isn’t your thing, then I want you to have the greatest platonic friends money can’t buy. If it is, I want you to feel like you’re floating three inches off the ground, minimum. Today and every day.

Love is the shit. Happy V-day.

My gorgeous girlfriend is an electrician by profession and I think watching her wire equipment is about the sexiest thing in the world. She’s in the middle of a project now, and when she’s done I fully intent to jump her.

If you live in a porn flick, it’s the most adorable one.

My boyfriend moved in with me a week ago. Yesterday we finally had to give in and take a day off from sexy fun times because we were both too sore. Today we didn’t get out of bed until 7:30 pm. So much for recovering, neither of us can walk straight again.

Too much sex to walk right seems like the perfect Valentine’s Day gift. Surprise someone special!

I normally take ages to orgasm, and because of that sometimes it doesn’t happen at all because I plateau and then get stressed out about whether my partner minds how long it’s taking, or if it will happen, etc etc. As such I am quite uncomfortable with being on the receiving ed of oral, it doesn’t usually work.

I feel the need to tell you my fantastically awesome (in all other ways too) boyfriend gave me the most unexpectedly perfect oral the other day and I came in five minutes flat, maybe less. High fives all round?

Exactly fuck yes high fives all around! Good guessing there.

I’m poly, and my girlfriend is married to a man.

I harbor a secret hope that they’ll decide to have children because as hot as my girlfriend is, I think my head might explode from how incredibly sexy she’d look if she were pregnant.

This is really sweet and all, but I also can’t help thinking how depressed I’d be if a partner never found me sexier than the six or so months leading up to a traumatic shredding of my vulva.

But happy Valentine’s Day!

hey

well ive never actually really read any blogs regularly but i gotta say i love the combo of sex / intellect / humour and complete randomness! anyway this is from a couple of weeks ago. i hadnt long started a new job and only get 36 (yep, 36!) minutes a day for my lunch. i have enough time to drive home eat lunch made my hubby (hes not working just now) and scarper off back to work…until one day. he gave me a cheeky smile, dragged me through to the room….and made me come just as the alarm in my phone was going off for my time to leave for work! i might have been hungry at work but had a massive smile on my face for the rest of the afternoon! :) just had to share!

Okay, people. Basic human rights shit here: A lunch hour should allow enough time for a proper lunch and a quickie. 36 minutes!

I am moving in with my boyfriend on Monday. This is awesome. I had what was probably the best sex of my life last Saturday. (Er, with said boyfriend.) This is also awesome.

I am not going to see my boyfriend again until Saturday. I have already packed all of my porn.

This is less than awesome. (Time to read sex blogs!)

There’s an awful lot of smut on the internet. And hopefully a lot of one-upping the best sex of your life in your bed on a regular basis.

Since breaking up with my ex boyfriend I can’t stop fucking my friends. And it’s FANTASTIC.

Maye fucking one’s friends is the happiest, healthiest kind of relationship of all.

…Okay, maybe I’m just the tiniest bit bitter.

Sex Confessional

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Please link this to your awesome and sexy readers
http://marriedfreaks.com/?p=166

Done! They really are quite sexy and awesome, aren’t they?

Just before Christmas break is my favorite kind of year, because my professors always give out candy canes and I can watch and see who I think would be the best at oral sex.

(P.S. There’s this boy in my stats class- not terribly attractive, but ohh boy, if he’d do to my clitoris what he does to that candy cane…)

I love the way your mind works.

I woke up this morning soo wet. I wish I could remember what I was dreaming!

Not to assume I know your business or anything, but it was pretty much definitely a sex dream about Data from Star Trek: TNG.

Goddamit, Cupie, you’re so fucking hot.

Best confession ever. Okay, I’m lying. The actual best confession ever can be found here, but I do like this one. It has a certain something…

Not a sex confession but…

I am so in love with my boyfriend that all I want to do is wrap myself around him at night and fall asleep against his chest.

And that is scarier to me than any sex confession I could possibly make.

This is more adorable than a baby in a manger. By way a lot.

I’ve always been a cock-loving lass, but there’s this girl at my coffeeshop… when she smiles all I can think about is how the inside of her thighs would feel against my lips.

Raise your hand if you suddenly wish you worked in a coffee shop.

Give the gift of a juicy secret.

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I am so proud of the sex mirrors in my new bedroom! That is why people put mirrors on double sliding closet doors, isn’t it?

Sometimes I’m going about my business in daily life and I think “Hey, QP, you realize some people will only have sex with the lights off? That’s a terrible commentary on how society makes us feel like shit about our bodies.” And then I’m all like, “Whoa, self. I guess I didn’t think about that. I normally think of people as having sex with other human beings, but maybe you’re right. Maybe some of them do have sex with “the lights off”, whatever that means. Thanks for pointing that out.” Then, I refuse to talk to myself for the rest of the day for some weird reason. I am touchy.

But to answer your question, yes, sex is the reason for all mirrors! It also helps you figure out if you’re fucking a vampire, which can be helpful.

Have scads of lights-on fun, will you?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about wanting to get involved with other couples.. threesomes where I learn to suck cock, for the right motivation, feature prominently. But my wife, she’s not so into the other women thing.. at least, not yet.

Hooray for group sex fantasies!

That “yet” in the last sentence worries me just a little, though, so I’m just going to play devil’s advocate here. Some women are straight. Not bi. Not at all. No matter how many bisexual/pansexual/omnisexual/queer women you know, no matter what Alfred Kinsey said, some women are irrevocably and permanently not so into the other women thing. Period.

Of course, it’s very possible your wife has expressed bi-curiosity, is shy, and you maintain a reasonable level of hope that someday she’ll choose act on it. In that case, the paragraph above wasn’t for you. It is for anyone reading this who thinks they might be able to coerce someone into experimenting against their orientation. I feel inclined to point out, though, that even if your wife is straight she may well have no problem with the idea of an MFM threesome.

Hi! Thank you for publishing my confession– I nearly spit out my tea when I saw it, which would probably have alarmed my brother and father (they’re watching TV in the same room…we’re not that close as a family!). Thank you so much for your comments too, they were really kind and nice! And I wanted to let you know that since then, I’ve had a one night stand where the guy came around 4 times, and I’m now going out with another guy, and he’s, well, definitely happy! So thank you!

I think you’re referring to the third confession last week, and if so I am so happy for you! And I know these things are relative, but it sounds like you might be seriously awesome in bed, so you get a giant internet high five from me!

Dear QP–I just have to confess that I love to give my man a blow job in the morning. If it leads to something for me, I’m for that too, but sucking on him and bringing him to orgasm just starts the day out right.

This probably doesn’t have to be a secret, but I’m damn glad it’s a ConTuesday confession because I get to administer another internet high five! At quizzicalpussy.com, we adore generous lovers.

The pic you used for the ”Rubbing one out” post…girls like that are totally responsible for me identifying as ”heteroflexible”.

She really is delicious, isn’t she?

I like reading about group sex, one girl servicing several guys, but it’s not something I would ever want to try.

Here’s what we do: I will service several guys, write about it here, and then you can read about it! Everyone wins.

Okay, probably not, but I’m tempted.

At this very moment, my husband is asleep beside me with his arm around me, holding onto my boob. Every few minutes, he giggles in his sleep and starts to play with it. He sounds so adorable, it’s making me laugh and want to jump him at the same time.

This makes me want to hug one of those chow chows painted to look like a panda because that’s how cute it is!

I’d like to have raunchy phone sex with the guy who voices the character of Brock Samson from the Venture Brothers. In character, of course.

HOLY SHIT YES. I feel like it would be more shocking if you didn’t want to have phone sex with Patrick Warburton. I mean, do you realize you could have a threesome with Brock Samson and The (live action) Tick? You could even get some Rip Riley action in there. Heaven! brb fapping.

And while I’m busy with that, why don’t you send me a sex confession, dear reader?

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Dear God I hope so. Let the cycle begin!

I was goofing off with my boyfriend and generally having a tickle fight, when I somehow convinced him to let me stick a vibrator in his belly button (his prime tickle spot).

I highly recommend doing this. You (probably) won’t get off, but it is hilarious nonetheless.

File this under ”Weird-Assed Things to Do With Sex Toys”. =P

It’s Monday night as I compile this ConTuesday, and I just had a huge dinner of homemade beef shawarma and hummus.  So I guess what I’m saying is that there is no way in hell I’m sticking a vibrator in my belly button right now. But I will have to remember to try this because now I’m curious and it sounds hilarious.

If anyone else wants to send suggestions for weird-assed things to do with sex toys, maybe I will try them when my stomach doesn’t hurt! Maybe.

When I was a wee lass of 18, I had my artist younger brother/bff draw me something pretty so I could get a tattoo. It was a flower, and after careful consideration of where I was and was not likely to gain/lose a lot of weight, I chose to have it done on the small of my back. Several years later this turned into a trend and became known as the tramp stamp. At first I thought ”fuck you guys, I love being a tramp and this is a very reasonable place for a lady to get tattooed.” But, over time, the idea of the tramp stamp has worn on me, to the point where I now feel ashamed to have this thing that I once thought of as a beautiful expression of affection for my brother. On top of that, I feel ashamed for feeling ashamed because I know it’s a sexist and ridiculous way of characterizing a piece of body art. Nonetheless, it makes me feel anxious about revealing my body to new sex partners. Ugh.

I bet it’s beautiful.

My boyfriend doesn’t want to marry me and it makes me so sad.

In other words, I have the most stereotypical girly-girl problem ever. If he found out how much it means to me he’d feel bad but he’ll never change his mind, so what good’s telling him? I don’t have anyone I can confide in. Which of my badass feminist friends, some of whom can’t even legally marry their partners, am I supposed to bitch to about this one?

Straight people and gay people and even badass feminist people are allowed to want to get married to the people they love. It might never happen with your current partner if he really isn’t interested in marriage, and that will either have to be okay or a deal-breaker eventually, but your desire is valid and there is nothing wrong with it. Also, I think good friends have the ability to care about your problems in the context of your life, without needing to necessarily compare situations. They want you to be happy, right? And this is making you sad, so I suspect they’d be there for you on this one.

A while ago I had a crush on this guy who was really into X-men. Wolverine was his favorite. It never went anywhere, but I did have this reoccurring fantasy about blowing him while he was watching X-Men Origins: Wolverine (the movie made to make Hugh Jackman take his shirt off) since that was the closest I would I ever be able to get to a threesome with him and Wolverine. Sadly, I don’t think he would have appreciated my line of reasoning.

I bet a lot of guys would secretly appreciate your line of reasoning. If you want Wolverine in addition to someone rather than instead of them, doesn’t that mean they can, in one sense at least, hold their own against Wolverine? And isn’t that pretty boss? Or is that just my twisted nerdy sex logic?

Tell the world something about your sex life. Who knows what (or who) will come of it?

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But, for the sake of argument let’s say I was Sexy Carl Sagan for Halloween. In fact, I’m probably still in costume right now, as you read this. Pondering the cosmos. Probably. And here are some anonymous internet confessions that are probably mostly, but maybe not entirely, unrelated to Halloween. But they are all related to The Universe. Remember, if you want to confess a sexual secret, you must first invent the Universe.

So, my girlfriend and I had snuck into a park late at night to have some fun. We were in the middle of things when we heard voices from further up the path. We quickly put our respective parts back in their respective holders and wandered back. It turns out that a group of teenagers, fresh from grad had stumbled into the park to hang out. We exchanged awkward pleasantries and went our separate ways.

At least until they were almost out of sight. We were fucking again before they even turned the corner. Public sex is much better when there is a public that might see you.

Our species needs, and deserves, a citizenry with minds wide awake and a basic understanding of how sex in public works.

I desperately wish I could get release. I’ve tried sex with men, women, people I loved, some I liked, some I’d just met. I’ve tried it rough, sweet, and with most every toy you can get in a typical erotica store. Masturbating does less than nothing for me. There’s nothing wrong with my libido, though. I’m pretty much constantly horny. I’m MARRIED, I GAVE BIRTH without ever having an orgasm. I felt pretty ripped off during that. My husband tries so hard, but either it just starts hurting really, really bad after a little while or it doesn’t do anything at all. My mind kind of wanders and I start thinking about whether or not I should go grocery shipping tomorrow.
My doctor gave me a prescription to ramp up my libido. So I was super horny and still completely frustrated. My therapist said it was a medical problem, see the doctor.

Okay, I’m going to stop being Sexy Carl Sagan for a minute and tell you I hope this happens for you. I wish I could help somehow. Not in a creepy way, I swear. Sexy Carl Sagan is never creepy.

I have a really hard time being ”in the moment” during sex. Don’t get me wrong, it feels so good, and I usually have an orgasm (often several) but I can’t stop myself from being distracted by minutia. The weirdest things will pop into my head and I will go down a thought train of randomness, then I will be like, ”shit, he’s going down on me, pay attention!”

I feel like a big fake. This is why I love drunk sex.

We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science, technology, and booze, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology. Booze we have a pretty good handle on.

I was a little depressed about how little sex that I was getting from my wife, so I decided to keep track. I began sending myself emails whenever I’d get any sexual activity, or whenever I was turned down from overt requests that I made to her. I’ll admit that originally, I did it to keep track of the turn-downs (I was pretty unhappy about the situation), but I’ve been using it more to gleefully note the successes, lately. I put the emails into a folder marked ”SexLog,” and note the date of the event in the title. (sometimes it takes a day or two to put it up.) Then in the body of the email, I describe the event. Sometimes they just say, ”Normal sex. Missionary. I initiated. Both came. Quick.” But sometimes I’ll go into explicit detail, and going back to read them, it’s kinda hot.

So it is that my SexLog, which I originally created out of a bit of spite, has actually become a rather positive thing in my sex life. I have several times rolled over in bed, gasping and covered with a sheen of salacious sweat, thinking, ”I can’t wait to write that one up!

Sadly, a count of the last 9 months shows that we average right at one sexual encounter (BJ, HJ, or PinV) a week. That part is still kind of depressing.

When you make the finding yourself – even if you’re the last person on Earth to see the light – you’ll never forget it. You have it pretty damn good, is what I’m saying, I guess. Of course, Sexy Carl Sagan would also like to get laid more than once a week, so Sexy Carl Sagan feels your pain.

Confess your sexy secrets here. Perhaps it will make you feel not-quite-so-small in an indescribably vast cosmos. I mean, at least it couldn’t hurt.

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I have not been smiling much lately, you see. There are reasons and back stories, but this is ConTuesday, not MopeTuesday, which is not even a real thing. Anyway, just thinking about going another day with my rib cage aching and my throat burning makes me half die from boredom. How dreary.

So at some point today a rock band will probably come find me and beg me to be their frontman. Or I’ll finally get that pony. Or something awesome that I’m not even inventive enough to expect will happen. Or brilliant orgasms.

But failing that, I’m going to read some anonymous confessions that are happy. And they will fucking well make me smile today.

I snooped.

My boyfriend loaned me a hard drive so I could get some videos from it, and I looked at the personal files that were on it. Old emails, school essays, and notes he’d written to himself.

I found two things that shocked me.

The first was that he was exactly the man I’d thought he was. Even in his little notes he’d never meant anyone to read, he was kindhearted and openminded, sincerely religious and never judgmental, and truly, deeply seemed to care about being a good person. Sure there was porn and stuff, but as a human being, he had no dirty little secrets at all.

The second was photographs of the bruises after he had been assaulted. It’s hard to describe the sorrow and anger I felt seeing those.

I’m so sorry your boyfriend was assaulted. That’s not the part that made me smile. And I do not condone snooping, certainly not, but for some reason reading about you discovering secrets that make the person you love even more beautiful to you? That just fucking kills me. In a good way.

My boyfriend is great in bed, and at times, when we really get rolling, he’s absolutely amazing. The other night, he started off fingering me, which we don’t usually do for too long, but that night, for whatever reason, it just had me coming and coming and coming. Almost continuous rolling orgasms, and they didn’t stop when he stopped fingering me and started fucking me. Fifty minutes later I was so hyper sensitive that the fan blowing on my legs was nearly making me come, with no other stimuli.

I guess all I’m trying to confess here is that my boyfriend is awesome because he recognizes what’s really getting me off in bed and works it well, and that I had truly amazing sex the other night. So it’s not a confession, it’s a brag… those are allowed right?

Hell. Yes.

Last night I was masturbating with a g-spot vibrator and got off so hard that I ended up in an infinite orgasm loop–every time my vagina contracted, it pressed against the still-vibrating toy and set off another orgasm. I feel like I found a glitch in the matrix.

If you had the choice between the sex matrix and eating that goopy stuff and going to underground raves with smelly hippies you’d so pick the sex matrix, right?

Or is it just me?

Sometimes we’ll just be sitting on the couch watching TV and she’ll brush her hair back with her hand and I’ll think, “I am the luckiest guy in the world. Why is the most amazing woman on the planet watching Castle reruns with me? Is this some kind of mistake?” But I know better than to tempt fate by asking out loud. I just tell her I love her instead.

In all fairness, Castle’s a pretty okay show. Also, awwwww.

I’ve always been a cock-loving lass, but there’s this girl at my coffeeshop… when she smiles all I can think about is how the inside of her thighs would feel against my lips.

Thank you thank you thank you for this.

My boyfriend has never been able to orgasm from oral sex–ever–and we’re both fine with that. But this weekend, we had a houseguest and were trying to have very furtive, quiet sex. I sucked him off to orgasm! My swallows were my victory laps.

The best part: He called the experience a ”revelation”.

Internet high. Fucking. Five.

QPeeps, you always find a way to make me happy when skies are gray.

Confess your sex secrets here.

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