quizzical pussy

The first time someone else bought me a sex toy, it was nerve-wracking and excruciating (the experience, not the toy. The toy was actually not bad…). Reginald Sleeth and I stayed after hours at the porn studio where we worked, he took pictures of me masturbating to ejaculation, and then we traipsed off to the adult book store where I was to select a toy as a reward.

I didn’t so much select a toy as turn a blaring shade of red and wish I were back in the safety of my safe and non-threatening porn studio, while Reginald, whose idea all this had been, made suggestions. He quite liked the idea of remote controls, as I recall.

After a near meltdown, I finally picked a cheap, slim, plastic, vibrating insertable. Doubt not that I used it often and to excellent effect over the coming years, but that experience taught me two things:

1. Never go sex toy shopping on someone else’s terms and expect to have fun.
2. If I hadn’t had an excuse to go toy shopping, even with the internet existing, it may well have been years before I owned a proper sex toy.

When I finally got around to buying a sex toy for myself, it actually was years later, and it was completely different. The toy was, and I was. I decided what I wanted based, not on what my scary ex-boyfriend would be able to afford/be comfortable with/not think I was depraved because of, but on the pure intention of giving myself pleasure. I traded my own money for it in a declaration that my orgasms were worth something to me. And they were motherfucking poetic orgasms, too.

I’m not saying it’s not worthwhile to buy and accept sex toys for and from your partner. In fact, I will say right now that it is. But the other thing I’m trying to say is that sex toy purchases tend to be imbued with significance. When you buy one, it’s usually with a fairly powerful intention: self-love, wanting another person to have orgasms, or often a totally new type of sexual exploration. There is a reason we call one of the most popular sex toys of all time a Magic Wand.

Oh, and by the way, Buy A Sex Toy day is June 4th, which is a mere month from now! Let’s make magic, people.

(image source)

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So remember how last week I was weeping into my keyboard over the sudden dearth of that hair dye I like? And the fact that I tried to dye my hair with entirely other dye and it came out a color I was not expecting whatsoever?

I think that the unexpected color may have already gotten more compliments than any other color my hair has been in the history of hair. Some guy actually asked me if he could rip it off my head and wear it in a weird Buffalo Bill-type scenario.

…I said no.

I have never been more like Socrates. I am really beginning to understand that I know nothing.

My wife started reading your blog a while back, and I followed suit not long after. It’s been a big part of improving communication in our marriage, especially about sex. We’d been okay before, but things are amazing now. Thanks!

If quizzicalpussy.com had a mission statement, which it does not because this is the first time that possibility has ever occurred to me, it would involve roughly 50% making people’s love and sex lives better, 40% navel-gazing, and 10% jokes about genitals. This kind of confession? Makes me smile even more than free sex toys.

Hey QP! An update on my feelings re: slutshaming lout. I told him about them, he rejected me, and I felt…waves of indescribable relief. My life IS better without him! Without him, there is queer bike porn and naked dance parties and super mega hotties who don’t think being poly means you don’t have feelings. Good stuff, QP!

Your life isn’t just better. From what I’m reading, your life is awesome.

I just spent the evening hanging out naked with my girlfriend and our gay flatmate (well my girlfriend was too insecure to strip). We spent the evening giggling, making penis snails and sails while fending off wandering hands. When me and my girlfriend went to bed she finally lost her cloths while I made the bed, and teased me till I learned that being achingly hard isn’t just a porn cliche. I threw her on the half made bed and we fucked each other till we came together, in one of the best orgasms of my life. Now I wish that she liked to cuddle after sex, but she just don’t like cuddling that much. (Except with her dog :) )

OMG I wonder what happened with that?

…

…

(subtlety)

I confessed a couple days ago that my (gay) flatmate, girlfriend and I (I’ll call them Alice and Bob) hung out naked. It evidently introduced some sexual tension, because tonight we had a threesome. Bob and I both enjoyed watching each other fuck Alice. Unfortunately I’m much straighter than I thought: the hornier I got the less interested I was in playing with Bob. Alice put a condom on her vibrator and put it in Bob’s ass, which they enjoyed (anal smells funny). All in all it was kind of fun, Alice and Bob both enjoyed it more than me. Still many orgasms and cuddles were had, and none of us feel weird about it, so all in all I’d call the night a success.

I’ll call you Cameron. Exploration, cuddles, and orgasms sound like a pretty successful threesome to me, Cameron. Glad you had kind of fun!

Last week, in the midst of some very explicit, very dirty texts, I told my Much Younger Lover (who is back in town) about your blog. He’s now read all of my confessions. I’m feeling a little exposed, but also really turned on by how hot he thinks it is. I’m sure I’ll know as soon as he reads this one.

I’m pretty sure more people use ConTuesday to flirt than I know. Of course, I know nothing, so obviously.

To the gentleman who said that he catalogues his sexual activity. I’ve been using the site nOOkist. Easy to use and it has a great cataloguing system with different positions etc.

Sadly I haven’t had the chance to use it since June because of a terrible dry spell, but that doesn’t mean I can’t share a good site for people who actually are sexually active.

I wonder if they have a smartphone app so you can literally update in real time. You know, and never get laid again because that is the rudest fucking thing I can imagine.

As a FAAB¹ Queer submissive, I am wholly attracted to how Nice Guy (Jan. 3) presented himself. Limits? yes. Safeword? necessary. Both in kink and in life, I often want to scream at the top of my lungs: ”COMMUNICATION IS EVERYTHING. FUCKING TALK!”

Point being, if Nice Guy wants to play with a sub who gets it (and wants it), and you don’t mind playing matchmaker, I’m available.

P.S. I write smut: fuckmedapperqueer[dot]tumblr[dot]com

I hope Nice Guy is reading this and that you two don’t live continents away and stuff.

I’m also, on a personal note, hoping that people who insist on responsible BDSM play aren’t as rare as all that, but that this confessor mostly just really likes Nice Guy’s writing style.

Confess!

1. Editor’s note: I am reasonably sure this indicates “Female assigned at birth” here, as it usually does. [↩]

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Attention Doctor Who fans: You deserve to know that someone out there has made the greatest dildo. Apparently, this prototype is not usable because the miniature TARDIS is too close to the edge and causing tearing to the silicone, but it is still the greatest.

The. Greatest.

In short, who wants to fuck themselves with a glittery time vortex? Because I sure do.

(via Toplessrobot, called to my attention by a tip from Smith, a clearly awesome person.)

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I need some help keeping myself from moping today. My car hasn’t exactly been working this month, which makes my life 72% more difficult and 88% more frustrating. Also, they’ve apparently discontinued my favorite brand of hair dye, and as a result I’ve just dyed my hair a completely different color than I originally intended. These are minor problems in the scheme of things, I’ll admit, but I still think I need an inspirational quote or something to cheer me up a little. Hey, you know who always comes up with clever aphorisms? Anonymous. Lay it on me, people.

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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I attended a BDSM play party recently. My ass was sore the next day. These two things are unrelated.

Oh, there was some spanking– of me, even. Other asses (tits, backs, thighs, balls…) around me got rawer and redder as the night went on, but my ass’s complexion was largely unthreatened, despite a few delicious moments in which Rudyard Flicksnake, a man who does the most amazing things with whips, blades, and other paraphernalia, tried to wring pouty faces out of me. And succeeded. But even his wooden paddle, which I’ll admit was not my favorite thing, didn’t make me sore. The brutal yoga workout I did hours before the party started? That’s what did it. Yeah.

I know there’s not really a wrong way to do kink¹, but if there were I’d wonder about myself.

And I do wonder. I don’t know where I fit in the BDSM world. On Fetlife I identify as a switch, but my experiences are all light bottoming and lighter topping with sensation play (e.g. “Now let’s see what this toy feels like!”, or “Do more of that thing that feels awesome!”). I haven’t delved into the whole psychological aspect of domming or subbing, even just for a single scene. And, though I’m certainly open to both, I’m not sure I ever will.

In kink, and maybe in every other thing ever, it’s hard to effectively pursue a desire before you actually define it. I’m not sure what I want to experience in the kink world. I know why I want to be involved in it: I love the community, I love the sexy geekery, and I love experimenting and feeling new sensations and finding new ways to orgasm. However, I don’t fit in well enough to meet someone and rattle off my BDSM pedigree: “I’m a fireplay top with an emerging daddy dom side”, “I’m a rope bunny switch, but I only service top”, “I’m a non-painslut masochist with a huge subspace fetish”. I don’t have a firm grip on what I “am”, what I like, or what I want; so far I’m just playing at playing.

I have some ideas of what I’m not. At this point, I do not connect with the masochist label. Not not not. After years of constant chronic pain, I have explored pain; it holds no mystery for me. I adore certain interesting sensations at the lower end of the pain spectrum: sensual sharpness, the thrill of electrical play, the cold point of a dulled blade, little things that pluck the nerves and wake them up, but once it starts hurting I will prove what a masochist I’m not. Hard. I also don’t think I’m a sadist. At least, seeing (and I’ll assume causing) someone else’s physical pain doesn’t do much for me.

Admittedly there are a lot of things I know I want to try, but I don’t know just how I want to express them yet. BDSM is a language with many dialects, and it’s easy to think you’re saying one thing while conveying something totally different. It’s not sorted in my head enough that I can list it here and tolerate looking at it.

Still, I’m going to keep playing as I have been. I want to keep pushing and trying new things. Kink is interesting, fun, often sexy, and there’s a freedom in it that recalls the experience of being a kid on the playground. Some of the equipment is worlds cooler; some if it is eerily close to what your parents stored in the closet and brought out when you needed “discipline”. But at least now you have a safeword.

I don’t know. Can I just say I have an experimentation kink for now? And an orgasm fetish? Because I know those ones are just empirically true.

(image source)

1. Unless it’s non-consensual, obviously. [↩]

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ConTuesday is a certain cure for a clean mind. Don’t even take my word for it…

I finally anted up and got a Feeldoe!

I love having a cock now!

And so does my boyfriend!

Yay! And I cannot stress this enough: it never gets old.

Both my roommates were out, so I decided to engage in some old-fashioned hedonism.

What resulted was a forty-minute long INTENSE fuck session with literally all my toys. At one point I was rolling around on the bed with four sperate vibrators going at once, combining and alternating them all like some sort of Mad Dildo Hatter.

It was awesome.

Okay, so obviously I’m picturing this in my mind’s eye. There’s no way that’s not happening. But there’s also no way I can picture it without you cackling maniacally. I just thought I’d let you know.

I have this aunt who has low-level but persistent biphobia of the “they don’t really exist” kind. She also happens to be a lesbian. When it comes up (which, in fairness, isn’t THAT often), I feel like I should maybe talk to her, but as a straight (cis, white, etc) male I feel weird about confronting someone who is actually gay (not to mention 20 years older) about social justice and sexuality.

I understand your reluctance here, since you’re coming from a place of privilege, as they say. But speaking as a sexual orientation minority, I wouldn’t mind you saying “My bisexual friends think they exist,” or something like that.

It should also be noted that I’m not exactly Yo, Is This Racist, so I don’t know, I’m not an expert on confronting people sight unseen on their xenophobia. But no matter how many times I’m wrong about shit, bisexuals will still exist.

I had what I’ve been calling an “incident” two years ago. I told friends about it, but they never characterized it as rape, so I didn’t either at the time. I’ve been uneasy about it ever since. What happened was, I sought out and had casual sex with a guy one night. A few days later he came to my place, presumably to talk to me, and began pressuring me to have sex with him. Typical fore-play activity ensued, but I kept insisting I did not want to have sex with him, and he kept asking for it. I eventually gave in and let him have sex with me, and the thought process was, “If I have sex with him, he will leave me alone.” So I guess I said yes, but it was a complete internal NO which I feel a more intuitive person would have picked up on. He had my verbal consent, so I’m sure there’s no way he would ever feel as if he raped me. But I don’t know what to call it, or how to feel about. I just don’t talk about it.

What your friends said about the situation doesn’t define it. What I say about it doesn’t define it. What he thinks about it sure as hell doesn’t define it. Only you can know if this man pestered and harried you into manufactured false consent, and if you slept with him just to get him off your back. I can tell you that coercive rape is absolutely a real thing, and what you describe sounds like it could very easily be a textbook case.

If you didn’t give your consent willingly, the sex should never have happened. Period. I’m sad that you went through this.

My boyfriend is a chemistry major, and I would really like to fuck him in his lab coat.

Really badly.

Okay, so obviously I’m picturing this in my mind’s eye. There’s no way that’s not happening. But there’s also no way I can picture you guys fucking like this without Thomas Dolby’s “Blinded Me With Science” playing in the background. I just thought I’d let you know.

It saddens me that every time i watch a tentacle hentai it is always rape, because if it were me I would love it. Just the idea of having something large, muscular and that have COMPLETE MANEUVERABILITY just sets something off in me. Also the idea of it holding me down (or up) gets me wet.
I am a straight female. I like boobs I do, but anything below the belt…not so much. i feel like its weird and cant discuss it with any of my female friends.

You might want to check this out when it’s finally published. Also, check these out:

octoboobs!

Hey, so tell me about stuff.

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Thank you for trusting me with your confessions. Especially the really bizarre ones. But also the sweet ones, the wistful ones, the confessions from crisis and the lurid missives of lust. All of them, really.

I have no idea who you are, but your minds are delicious.

My boyfriend and I are doing some anal play, with an eventual goal of anal sex. Unfortunately he’s a rather girthy guy and the pretty little butt plug I bought simply doesn’t come close to approximating him. Yesterday we went to the toy shop and did some looking for an intermediate step, or something slightly larger than he is, to keep working toward our goal.

All I could think was how intimidating the buttplugs look! The ones with gradual girth increases are all slim enough to not be useful and the rest either get fat really fast or incorporate some shape that frankly looks scary as hell.

We wound up getting a silicone dong that starts about where the plug leaves off and has a very gentle girth increase until it qualifies me for his lovely cock, and then some.

Plus, it was way cheaper than the ” anal trainer ” toys.

Am I the only woman out there who doesn’t really care about the toys (although I thoroughly enjoy myself when we use them) except as a means to an end? I don’t want it to vibrate or oscillate or be beaded or engraved or whatever else those things were. I just want it to be what I need, a way to allow my body to adjust to the point where I can give my love something he really likes.

This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever read that incorporates the word “dong”. I hope your system is paying off in anal orgasms and a sex life that gets better by the day.

I’ve found myself in a crisis situation. I have to have strong vibrations to get off, and my vibrator just broke. I go to school in a tiny, rural town without a sex-toy shop. My credit card is still under my parent’s account, so I can’t use it to order a new one off the internet. And I won’t be in a big city again until Christmas break.

Hopefully you already found a replacement, but if this happens again, remember that Amazon has sex toys. Who would question an innocent bookstore charge on a credit card statement? All you ordered was a package of AA batteries to go with your, uh, kitten calendar. Yeah.

I have fancied a guy for a while now and when we see each other we tend to flirt a bit / a lot depending on the occasion. Last night I revved myself up for a good night out with him present and hoped I could take things a little further. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay long and I ended up flirting with another guy I barely knew before.

Now I can’t decide what I want.

Well, I actually do know what I want. I want to keep flirting and kissing and snogging and possibly more both of them. At least for a little while. Because in the end, I still think I’m monogamous. But a girl’s gotta have some fun. With a little luck, they’ll both be up for some non-exclusive fun.

I have never been able to wrap my mind around people who expect exclusivity while casually dating, before making an explicit agreement to be exclusive.

Whenever I read confessions from married/attached people about having very infequent sex I think ”I can sympathize. I know exactly where you’re coming from” and then, invariably, they complain because they’re only having sex like once a week. OH the HORROR. You poor thing. What I wouldn’t give to have sex once a week. In the last 7 weeks I can count, on one hand, how many times we’ve had sex. In fact, I can count the number of times on one hand, that had a freak farming accident, and had 4 fingers amputated. So, quit bitching about your once a week sex life and consider yourself lucky. (but I’m not bitter).

I feel your pain. Intensely. In another week I’ll be able to count the sex I’ve had in the last seven weeks on zero hands. Which is good, I guess, because those hands are occupied with furiously fapping and flipping off my life.

Of course, if I ever get married or have a live-in partner again, I do hope it will be with someone who wants to bone more than once a week. I really and truly do.

I have developed a huge crush on a co-worker. She’s pretty much amazing, as far as I’m concerned. I sat in my meeting today imagining all things I want to do to her and all the hot girl sex we could be having. Her style is super edgy and I don’t know if I’m judging her personal sense of style (which is incredibly ”non-normative”) and applying that to other aspects of her personality or if I might be pegging her as possibly queer because I want her to be queer as a consequence of my super big crush. A part of me feels like a judgmental jerk. The other part is still super turned on. I’ve decided not to press the issue and actually find out her orientation. I think the fantasy would be ruined should I discover she’s super super straight.

Wait, let me get this straight: you feel like a judgmental jerk for having had your gaydar tripped?

You know what is a good remedy for guilt? Hot girl sex.

Hey, guys! Visit the Sex Confessional!

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I want a unicorn horn dildo. Oh, yes, I truly do.

I realize we’ve been through this before. I realize that I want a terrible lot of novelty dildos, some of which even exist. But I swear, this time it’s serious.

I want a unicorn horn dildo. I want to strap it on and have a majestic unicorn horn cock. I want to strut around with it, admiring myself, horned creature. I want to fuck a woman with it and give her the most obscene orgasms: orgasms that are truly, offensively beautiful.

I want to lock our fingers together as I plunge my majestic cock into her and tell her with my eyes that this thing we’re doing, which has the impossible nestled right there in the middle of it all, is absolutely true. There is nothing truer or more honest than the moment when I make her come.

We are an improbable creature together, more beautiful than sense.

Or, failing that, I want to own a unicorn horn dildo because fuck you, I have a unicorn horn dildo. And it can double as a narwhal tusk. Holy shit why am I not ordering this right now?

Oh, cause I’m broke? Okay, I guess that’s valid.

(image source)

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I don’t understand people who brag about female ejaculation.

Okay, wait. Yes I do. It’s because of how often many of us have been ridiculed and shamed and accused of lying/deluding ourselves about squirting. Sometimes that sort of thing makes you want to scream “FUCK YOU DO YOU REALIZE THIS MAKES ME AWESOME!?!?” It’s a defense mechanism, and it makes perfect sense. But I hate how it creates a culture where someone might feel like they’re falling short if they happen to not be an ejaculator.

Really, we’re just talking about an orgasm with some extra liquid added. It doesn’t make you automatically awesome. It doesn’t make you sexier¹ or healthier or smarter or more financially solvent. You will probably not even get a sticker.²

It might, however, be an especially intense orgasm, and it is an interesting thing to experience. For many people, that alone makes it worth looking in to. That’s why I’m offering some squirting tips for those who want to squirt and those who want to assist others in their quest to do so. If you succeed at this, try not to brag too much. I will see what I can do about stickers.

You don’t need to know the basics of the physiology of female ejaculation to squirt, but they can help. I am equipped to give you only the very basics.

The g-spot exists. It’s actually the underside of the urethral sponge, which swells with fluid when arousal happens. It’s usually found a couple inches above the vaginal opening on the clitular facing side of the vaginal wall. Its texture is usually different from the surrounding tissue, making it fairly easy to find. Sometimes there will be gasps or squeals or other sound effects that help further clarify its location. Keep in mind, though, that every body is different.

Sometimes the urethral sponge releases this fluid through the urethra during orgasm. The orgasms that bring this about often come from g-spot stimulation, but not always. Clitoral stimulation alone can do it for some people. The release can be like a spray, a gush, or a trickle: they all qualify as squirting. The fluid isn’t pee, it’s most often clear, and it is harmless.

Whether squirting orgasms actually feel better than any other kind very much depends on the person. And in fact, from here on out I’m really just going to talk about personal experiences and observations.

1. The first rule of squirting is: squirting is really, honestly no big deal. If you do it, it’s nothing to be self-conscious or worried about. If you don’t do it, you’re in the majority, and this in no way constitutes failure. My point here is that stressing out never helped anyone’s sex life.³ And it especially never helped anyone ejaculate. Relaxing is going to help you here with one tiny exception that we’ll cover later.
2. The actual first rule of squirting probably should have been put down a towel. If not several. Do not forget the towels. You can skip this step if and only if you have rubber sheets or are doing this on a hard surface like a bathtub or an inspiring marble fountain.
3. Start doing kegels now. Right now. Really. I’ll wait. Mighty PC muscles are only going to help your cause here. Apparently, when they’re toned your g-spot is more accessible, and has more sensitivity because of better blood flow. All I know is that I’ve been doing kegels since I was ten and I am a squirter, so that’s n=1. Science!⁴
4. Get an njoy pure wand. If there is one toy in all the world that is responsible for more female ejaculation than all the others combined, it’s probably this one. Or, at very least, I cannot use it without squirting. I can practically not look at it without squirting. Both ends feel incredible: the knob (I usually prefer the smaller side, but both work) lands right on my g-spot perfectly, whether I’m thrusting with it or rocking the toy back and forth from its center. This is quite literally the best sex toy investment I’ve made. And, did I mention? Splashy.
5. If you’re not ready to embrace the feat of engineering that is the pure wand, your best bet is a toy with a curved end that will easily reach your g-spot.
6. When playing with a partner, I’ve found that simultaneous focused clit and g-spot stimulation tend to make me squirt. For instance, sucking on my clit while fingering me with those come-hither crooked fingers for a bit works like a charm. It also puts me in a pretty chipper mood.
7. Sometimes a lot of orgasms have to happen before the squirting starts. Be patient and persevere. Could there really be a less tedious thing to practice?
8. If you have enough muscle control that you’re able to tense just the area around your urethral sponge/g-spot during stimulation, that can be a helpful way to put yourself over the top.

Experiment. A lot. Alone, with a partner, with several different partners. If it doesn’t happen right away try doing kegels regularly for a month and then trying again. Try a new toy. If it’s important to you, keep at it. Keep calm and carry on.

But seriously? The pure wand. I’m telling you.

1. Unless the beholder in question is someone with a thing for squirters, I suppose. [↩]
2. Note: I really should make stickers. [↩]
3. Unless, of course, we consider the case of Hippolyta Craig of Lubbock, Texas, but that is another story entirely. [↩]
4. Disclaimer: This is not science. [↩]

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Here we have a wild ConTuesday in its natural habitat, with a resplendent display of sex confessions from anonymous donors. I have literally never been on a safari with this many dildos, have you?

I love my partner massively (oh dear, does any confession that starts that way end well?), but I’ve gotten into a vicious cycle with him that I don’t know how to fix. We went through a rough patch in terms of his sex drive, so that on the rare occasions he did want it, he’d want it at the most comfortable situation for him (late at night, when we’re both about half asleep) which is the total opposite of most comfortable for me (i am a morning person who really, really likes to talk before/during/after sex). Now, when our sex life is normal, this is no problem–we’ll have that sleepy sex sometimes, and wild, crazy early sex some other times, no problem. But when the former was all I was getting, I found I wasn’t really able to come very much (highly unusual for me), which dwindled to ”not at all” and then to ”it feels tickly and uncomfortable when you touch me sexually.” which I guess is some sort of half-burie d resentment about our sex life no longer being even a little bit about me. And so, to make matters worse, when I try to initiate sex and he goes for it, I only feel turned on for a minute or two before feeling all resentful and…tickly again. I can masturbate no problem, and we’re nonmonogamous, and I don’t have these feelings with other partners, so it’s definitely psychological rather than physical. I’m usually so good at talking out my feelings, but this one has gotten so tangled up (and has gone on so long–months!) that I don’t even know where to begin that might have some small chance of not being incredibly hurtful and unproductive. Any ideas, O Sex Guru of the Anonymous Internet?

Someone mature and experienced in positive relationship communication is going to come along and read this any minute now, I just know it, and they’re going to give some really killer advice.

Until then, I will take a stab. First, if you’ve neglected to tell your boyfriend any of what you described above, you should get cracking on that. He might think the status is quo, when for you it is, in fact, not. More specifically, you need some fully-awake energetic sex that is sometimes about you to be okay with your sex life; this cannot remain ambiguous. Those needs are healthy and okay, I swear.

Secondly, once he knows this you could benefit from a sex reset. Since I just now made up that term, I should probably explain: a weekend or even a day where you guys can make it a point to have a metric ton of amazing sex. Maybe there can be romantic shit too. Just rediscover each other and specifically try to stop taking sex for granted, and see if that helps you feel less resentful and maybe helps him take you less for granted.

Thirdly, you sent this in months ago and I just now got to it and I’m truly sincerely hoping things are better now and all this advice is completely redundant.

Last night I finally got to fuck the guy I’ve been crushing on for the last 8 months. He was hotter with his clothes off than I had imagined. It wasn’t quite up to what I had been fantasising, but man did he give good head.

Internet high five for you!

i keep a glass bottle on my desk. my boyfriend thinks it’s meant to be a bud vase, but i use it as a dildo nigh every night. even though i love with the man, i still need my ”me” time regularly.

See what I mean about dildos?

I have no basis for saying this whatsoever and am in fact just making shit up here, but what are the odds your boyfriend hasn’t looked at that bottle and had absolutely valid and realistic thoughts about what you’re doing with it? The coolest part is if he thought he was being impossibly lewd.

Again, no basis. None.

I’m the person who confessed about the husband and brother in law fantasy, and you’re dead right: my husband would be shattered if I ever told him. He and his brother are *very* competitive, and their relationship, like most siblings (I guess! I don’t have any) is pretty complicated. However, there are a lot of fantasies that are better left in your head, so it’s no biggie to have this lurking around back in my id, where I can safely let it out for a trot now and then, and then safely shut it back up. :)

You are a wise one.

The other day Laramy and I were talking about the “call me daddy” phenomenon (which has never been my thing, but I’m not knocking it) and he suggested I call him my father’s actual full name during sex, just to be really authentic. And while he was almost certainly kidding (I fervently hope, and need to believe), I can’t help but think that little gem would have been better off left in his head.

I recently purchased my first dildo. I’ve always had plenty of toys, I just never thought a dildo would be worthwhile because they seem so single-function… boy was I wrong! Me and Chakotay (as I have affectionately named it) are having a grand ol’ time.

Let me get this straight: you named your dildo after a Star Trek character? That is like a magical sex unicorn playing Holy Diver on an enchanted electric guitar made out of dildos and true love! Or, in layman’s terms, it’s awesome. And it brings us back to dildos.

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