quizzical pussy

Sometimes I wonder how you like really know you’re in love.

You know you’re in love when there’s a moment during naked-snuggle-time where it’s appropriate to yell “Get back here so I can gum your nipple like a horny tortoise!”

I… does this mean I’ve never been in love?

I’m excited to go to the doctors tomorrow!

Er, wut? Well, I’m young, single, sociable and a total sex-clued, hedonistic, pleasure-seeking kink-friendly nympho… when I’m not medicated to the eyeballs. Unfortunately, due to general health issues (not all that dissimilar from yours, from what I can gather, QP!) it’s been totally necessary to medicate me to the eyeballs and beyond for quite a while now, and antidepressants in particular have taken a cane to my sex drive, and not in a good way. I’ve gone from losing my libido to inability to orgasm right through to not even finding anyone attractive anymore, because what’s the point. Ugh. So far, my attempts to raise this with my doctors have been met with everything from “meh, it doesn’t really matter, enjoying sex isn’t medically essential (Heavily implied: “…for women”)” to “I’m uncomfortable with this conversation… did you say you were getting headaches? Let’s give you something for the headaches!” oh and the ultimate classic “I’ve never heard of that as a side effect… (reading the patient leaflet I have just presented her which clearly states it as one, plus doesn’t like, EVERYONE know SSRIs inhibit sex?!) Hmm, no, I’ve not heard of this before, nobody has reported it. Perhaps you’re just not comfortable having sex because you’re not married. I’m sure you’ll be fine when the time is right!” Just… fuck the lot of them. Tomorrow I go to my new doctor, explain that I am unhappy with the extent to which this has affected me, and suggest swapping to Wellbutrin, and he IS going to listen to me, and I AM going to remember what it feels like not to cringe to the depths of my soul when somebody touches me. Wish me luck.

Holy dildoballs. I can’t even process how idiotic your previous doctors have been. I am wishing all the luck that your new doctor is competent and understands that sexual activity is a quality of life issue for many of us rather than some weird species of alien slime that one should never look at directly lest it infect one’s retinas.

The more comfortable I get in kinksville, the less comfortable I am in vanillatown. I almost don’t feel like I can be myself around my vanilla friends anymore. I find this unexpectedly stressful, and I’m not sure how to fix it. I can’t give up kink, and I don’t want to alienate my oldest friends. :(

If you’re not insisting on bringing floggers to their tea parties or making every conversation about your latest adventures in bite marks, I guess I’m just wondering why they can’t be happy for you. Of course, sometimes we grow in divergent paths from our long-term friends, and there’s really no one to blame for that.

About a year ago a whole bunch of my friends and I spent a few days on holidays together. We were all sleeping on the floor of the rumpus room and spent a lot of time chatting instead of sleeping. This made me pretty tired, so one afternoon I decided to take a nap.

Only I couldn’t fall asleep so I decided to get off instead. I was touching myself under the covers when my friend came in to get something from her bag, so I froze and pretended to be asleep. She left, I started up again, then another friend came in. It became a game, touching myself when no-one was there and stopping myself when they were, a self-administered orgasm denial scheme that stretched on and on until I was left alone long enough to come like a freight train. It was the best wank of my life.

This year, we were back up at the house and I had another afternoon wank in honour of that time. I think I could make this a tradition :)

P.S. Also, for some reason at the time I was fantasising about a Dom tormenting me by spraying me with ice cold water. I’ve never had that fantasy before or since. Libidos are weird.

And then again, it occurs to me that sometimes kink and vanilla friendship coexist just fine without actually interacting in any way. I’m only assuming these friends are vanilla because most of my kinky friends would likely pick up on this game and offer to enhance it in numerous creative ways.

My partner once told me of an… appreciation for lasses wearing animal ears. I looked everywhere when Halloween came, but nothing could be found that wasn’t ridiculously expensive.

So today I was out buying some random stuff, and what should I happen upon but a set of leopard ears (in the bachelorette party section, right). On the one hand, I reeeeeally want to see the look on his face.

But I can’t think of any combination of things I could buy with it that would make it less than completely obvious what I plan to use them for…

PS. I’m totally overthinking this, right? Fuck it, I’m getting ’em!

I want to tell you something, and I hope it’s reassuring. Cashiers don’t give a shit. They don’t. If they do because they’re still teenagers or because they’re extremely bored, you just made a life more exciting. You are a great person!

Hope you and your partner gleefully wear those ears out.

My confession? I love reading other people’s confessions. I look for new ideas, and evidence that other people are having awesome sex. It makes me feel good. Having my (previous) confession posted was also awesome, but I love everyone else’s confessions. And crazy hot sweaty monkey sex with my boyfriend and periodic guest stars. :)

I pretty much entirely agree with this except my sex with my boyfriend tends more toward the sweaty hot lemur sex, but live and let live.

Straight male, married almost 7 years, together for over 10.

Had amazing FF(Me!) threesome with wife and wife’s friend last night. Wife and I have been pure vanilla up until a few months ago, and she has only recently confessed to have some tendencies (and I don’t know how strong they are) towards bisexuality. Luckily we have an awesome like-minded friend to play with.

Getting fucked with a strap-on while fucking my wife was quite an experience and the shes and I can’t wait for more.

I totally understand that threesomes are not for everyone, but still, I get a happy, glowing feeling when I know that more of them are happening in the world.

Because threesomes are motherfucking magic. Now you know.

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Life feels so much better when it doesn’t get dark at 5pm and the trees are starting to eat again and when you send me your deepest, darkest secrets.

I fucked my wife at her mother’s house the other day, and she kept hushing me and trying to stop the headboard from thumping. Admitedly, the next guest room over was her older brother’s bedroom, and this was early morning. Dammit, I want that headboard to thump the wall so hard that no one in the house will make eye contact for the first hour that we’re up!

Have you considered the possibility that the hushed, surreptitious nature of the sex may have added to the hotness for your wife? Because I’m considering that right now and it seems like it could potentially be legit.

I was the first poster here. Oh guess what? He was fucking guys behind my back the whole time and lying about it.

Cheating shows an appalling lack of creativity.

my best girl had her final chemo treatment 3 weeks ago (she’s free and clear and clean for now, thank everything!) and in celebration of that, she let all of her hair grow back; head, underarms, bikini and all. turns out, due to some body chemistry changes, all her hair is growing back colorless–completely white. she always used to shave before, but i’m so enamored with her healthiness wonderful self that i’ve discovered that i absolutely love her fuzzy gorgeousness. now our latest sexy euphemism is usually something along the lines of “snow white meets the 7-inch dwarf!”

There’s the creativity I was looking for, and I hope your girl recovers like a boss.

I got tacit approval.
I want to use it. I’ve a wonderful, delicious, incredibly alluring potential partner, who wants to engage in peaceful, safe, harmless sex that we know could await us. It would be epic.

But if I have to lie about it, then it feels like cheating. And that’s the thing: my spouse said, when I got the approval: ”If you ever do it with anyone else, I don’t want to know about it. Just don’t bring home any diseases.”

I can’t lie to my spouse. I’m in this relationship forever.

I will also regret, forever, not doing this.

Integrity? Or loss of incredible, explorative, loving, meaningful sex?

It’s not that I’m disturbed by non-monogamy. I’m disturbed by non-straight-forward sincerity, with my spouse. Just because my life mate is mostly non-attentive sexually does not mean that I may make presumptions.

This sucks. I want a do-over.

I don’t get don’t ask/don’t tell relationships. Will someone explain them to me? Does anyone have an relationship configured this way that they consider emotionally healthy? I am trying to imagine it and it just seems avoidant, but maybe I’m missing something.

Plus, you miss out on all those hot recaps and squeeing together after dates and stuff.

My boyfriend takes *forever* to cum. And by forever I mean routinely over an hour. We’re both really new to sex in general and I don’t know how to deal with this (needless to say, not the problem I was expecting!). I just get so tired and he ends up taking care of himself while I lay there. Any advice? The internet doesn’t consider this a problem, apparently…

I have not run into this, but I definitely see how it could be frustrating. Any advice, quizkids?

I left a confession about 3 months ago disclosing that I had managed to orchestrate a friends with benefits deal with a friend for many years. We tried sex on psychotropics (LSD) and had an incredible time (she felt like a Dianic sex-goddess, and I had an incredible full body orgasm).

More recently though we bought a feeldoe (I linked her to your various feeldoe posts which met with great approval) and have had a lot of fun incorporating that into our play. Unfortunately neither of us feel comfortable bragging about our feeldoe play to any of our real-life friends (who would pass judgment on us – prudes) but luckily on the internet you are here to brag to QP(!).

At one point I had her insert the feeldoe and wear it out whilst we had dinner at a local dining establishment. Afterwards as we walked home to my place we found a nice dark alley and I gave her long passionate blowjob and jerked her off whilst she grabbed my hair and stroked my head as I sucked her. Then she reciprocated the blowjob whilst stroking her cock. When we got home we fucked for ages and I came a second time with such intensity that I could barely remain standing.

I must brag also about what a perfect match we are; the fact that after exposing her to futanari pornography that she loves it as much as I do, even identifies and longs for that body type. And just thinking about that makes me hard for her. As a bisexual cis-male that notion is to me the best possible thing in existence and I love talking dirty to her and walking her through the male sexual response whilst we both jerk each other off.

We’re still hoping to find a willing female partner to have a threesome with, and we’re looking at buying the feeldoe stout to add to the collection and give us more options when it comes to strapless cocks.

Okay, wait wait wait. This is some motherfucking creativity. Also, I now want to use my feeldoe while on acid. Badly.

This last summer, prompted by both your urging and my recent breakup, I bought my very first dildo on BAST day! It is rather classy, opaque black glass, voluptuous and slick-smooth and ohmygod I love it…
And I rather surprised myself by discovering an oral use for it… One of my favorite submissive fantasies is being fucked by one man while another holds me down and makes me suck his cock. Quite often I will get out my new toy, and it never makes it to my pussy, because even having something even vaguely penis-shaped filling my mouth (in addition to my usual manual method) is enough to give me a more intense, trembling and breathless orgasm than I ever had before.
So, thank you for convincing me to buy a sex toy… Best Purchase Ever. :-)
(though I may have to invest in something softer for my oral fixation… one of these times I may get carried away and chip a tooth…)

This is so awesome that I will light a phallic candle for your continued dental health.

Stats: Cisgender, black, pansexual, early-20something female.

I consider this a breakthrough. It isn’t big, but it could lead to big things, so I’m counting it as such. Here goes:

So I’ve been concerned about the way I’ve always masturbated. Not because I have any issue with getting myself off (far from it) or because it was unusual in any way (ditto), but rather because I had gotten so comfy with the position over the years (on my back, legs locked straight, index fingertip rubbing the left side of the clit) that I found it flat-out impossible to get off any other way.

Until last night! I was still on my back with my legs locked, but I used my middle fingertip this time, and it actually worked (I had tried other times a bit halfheartedly with no success). Such a small difference, but it’s progress! And though it might have just been the novelty of the situation, I felt that when I came, my spasms were slightly stronger than usual. I’ll have to do a side-by-side comparison to see. *puts on lab coat and goggles*

My master plan: Practice getting proficient with each finger on my right hand (the hand I’ve always used). Then do the same with the left. Then try multiple fingers and/or different motions. Then change the position of my legs. Then try to get off my back (I’ve always wanted to be able to do it sitting up on my knees). Then mix and match various fingers, hands and positions. Then (and this is a biggie) shift from pelvic passive to pelvic active if I can.

I’ve also considered how this might affect partnered sex and intercourse. And how toys might add to the mix … but one thing at a time. Don’t wanna jump ahead of myself. I’ve never felt so on fire with my own body’s possibilities.

Wish me luck! I love your blog!

Wishing you lots of luck! One thing I have noticed about people is that we usually figure out what (if anything) gets us off one way or another. We’re phenomenal that way. We’re not always honest about it, we don’t always like the fact that it gets us off, and it might take some of us a very long time to figure it out. But we eventually figure out all or most of the things, given enough heartbeats.

Or do we?

Confess.

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ConTuesday is happening. Look out.

Jesus fuck. I bought my first vibrator and all I can think now is WHY THE HELL DID I WAIT SO LONG? Seriously.

I cried, man. I literally cried when I came. It was bloody awesome. I’ve never done that before.

Life is so damn awesome right now.

I want everyone to have so many moments like this. Whether it’s down to staring up at the cosmic dance of the stars or skimming flesh against flesh or diving into fractals or pressing a little motorized beast against your nethers, I want it for you. I crave it for you. Life needs to show us its awesome, and we need to let it.

Hi QP,
Giant fan here (in spirit not size). I have a lame confession that also plays the odds. I’ll phrase it like a letter:

Dear girl in my Modern Physics class,

You are supremely attractive. I hardly listen to the lectures some days because you’re in my head gettin’ weird. I would do, truthfully, anything you wanted me to do, so if you’re in a class where a weirdly silent guy showed up sporting a bad mohawk, green sunglasses, a shirt that reads “#1 Dad,” and the tail end of a two day hangover, you should check me out. Give me a thumbs-up and we can get a coffee.

P.S. You straightened your hair. Fantasies have been updated. Some guys notice the little things.

P.P.S. Other girls (and guys) in that class: You guys are great too, don’t worry.

It’s not often that I think “Man, I wish more people read my blog” because I’m actually not as megalomaniacal as the liberal media would have you believe, but now is one of those times. Please, blogging gods, let’s get some supremely attractive, be-mohawked people laid, can we?

The sexual tension is back. A dirty note here, a lingering hug there, a veiled reference at any possible time. I want it, he wants it, and we both know we shouldn’t do it. I’m turned on all the time and I’m fairly certain it’s only a matter of time. If it happens I will enjoy it thoroughly for what it is. He and I both know it can’t be more. I still hope it happens.

Where does sexual tension go away to before it comes back? It is a mystery.

This article claims that the moving tentacle that plugs into your hard drive “doesn’t actually serve any useful purpose.”

But we know better, don’t we, QP?

Are you by any chance referring to this thing? Thinkgeek, that is straight up a sex toy and we all goddamn know it. Will you let me have an affiliate link now?

I’m 23 and work at a newspaper. I have this weird crush on a kid at a middle school… he’s kinda cute and always in the paper for writing and orchestra and dressing up in historical costumes. Basically all the nerdy hobbies I love. He looks older than he is, glasses and long hair, and I’ve met him once.

I officially have no judgments about whom anyone has crushes on, but whatever you do, mate, don’t “he’s very mature for his age” yourself into child molestation. Promise me you will never do that.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that my ex was coercive and abusive. Sure, he didn’t know he was doing it, he got anxious and he came from a dysfunctional family–all excuses I keep giving myself–but he made me constantly afraid to say no, and I had panic attacks at the thought of seeing him.

My girlfriend, on the other hand, is great. I’m slowly getting comfortable with her touching me–yesterday she tickled me for hours, and she ended up straddling me, and it was great. I didn’t feel afraid, just attracted and with only the mildest remnants of discomfort. I felt like I made real progress.

Today she came over and held me while I cried for ages. I guess I didn’t make as much progress as I thought. I’m so tired of feeling this way. I just want to hold her, and not feel uncomfortable and sick about it. My first relationship fucked me up big time! I know it won’t fuck up this one, but it’s so depressing to think of all that time designated “recovery” stretching out ahead of me, all of this effort to detox the shit he put me through. I really do love her though.

You are doing everything right, and your ex deserves to be nothing more than a distant, foul-scented memory. Love her hard, and accept every ounce of respect and devotion that she gives you because you deserve it.

My spouse and I have plenty of (ok) sex. It’s the kissing and cuddling that is missing. Sometimes I want to cheat – with my best friend – and have some amazing cuddles, fully clothed. Why is this so hard????

Okay, monogamous people. I’m not mad. I’m not. But why is cuddling cheating? Don’t we have to draw the line somewhere with all this dyadic hysteria? I’m sorry, but someone had to say it.

Tell me many things!

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I started this blog determined to never apologize for not posting. The main reason for this is the sheer hubris of the idea of assuming that people care all that much whether I put a thing on the internet or not. But also, I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I felt I had to do something as non-vital to anyone’s survival as type naughty words. The very idea is silly.

But then I made an express commitment to post the things you send me once a week, so I owe you this explanation for the recent two-week ConTuesday lapse: There was just no fucking way, you guys. My health has been a bitch, then I moved to a place that has required a great deal of work to make even borderline habitable. Then came a massive shift in my personal life. I love you and I love this blog and I love ConTuesday, but there was no fucking way.

But here I am, back, as you always knew I’d be. Typing naughty words.

Cuntodactyl.

To come, I need a narrative; so much so that I’ve got a major hobby in writing smut, and much of it reflects the stuff that I invent and refine trying to get my rocks off. That can be tiring and time consuming, so normally it takes me a while to get there.

But it turns out, I can also come just fine while watching hentai. And very, very quickly, since I don’t have to hold the narrative all by myself. w00t! who said girls don’t like visual porn, again? :D

People who say that girls don’t like any particular thing are necessarily wrong. Some people look down on using equivocal language, but I’d feel so horribly inaccurate without it! Also, though, yay for getting off! I quite like it myself.

I waxed to please my partner and now I’m disgusted by my body, have zero sex drive, and am grossed out that he thinks it looks good. ….help…..

You tried it, and waxing is clearly not for you. It grows back eventually, and I hope it does so swiftly and decisively. If your partner is making huge deal out of it, I would think a conversation about how much you hate being bald is in order. If he’s just enjoying it but not pressuring you, try to remember that he’s used to seeing naked genitals as much more sexualized than natural ones. Doesn’t mean your genitals have to fall in line with that or that he can’t tweak the common societally ingrained fashion-based reaction; it’s just that it’s not necessarily personal. But of course, neither is getting turned off by the fact that he’s turned on by something. Maybe that’s a deal-breaker, and that’s valid.

I’ve been reading your archives, and I masturbated to your descriptions of abuse by your ex-boyfriend Reginald Sleeth. (I’m really heavy into D/s.) I’m absolutely horrified by it and for that reason it turns me on like crazy. Sorry. (I’m a young woman, if that matters.)

You know what? I’m really just happy that that stupid, senseless farce of a relationship is now doing something useful for someone.  Everyone has my permission to masturbate to my horror stories as long as you promise not to abuse your partners. I think that’s fair, right?

So I hope it isn’t terribly terrible (but only rather terrible) of me to make this about me, but thank you for your writing about Reginald. Even though my own experience didn’t involve physical violence, I feel validated in calling it abuse. I also feel less alone in how fucked up I am because of it. Also maybe a little less convinced it makes me a terrible person, because you seem pretty awesome, so.

I’m posting this as a companion confession to the one above because I feel like they’re two sides of the same silver-lined coin. It isn’t terrible at all. I mean, it’s terrible that you’ve had to deal with abuse– I really hate that part. But if reading about my experiences has helped you come to terms with that abuse (which doesn’t reflect on you as a person whatsoever, just so you know) in any way, that is quite honestly the best reason I can think of for continuing to write about them.

When I write about things like my ill-advised soda bottle dildo experience I sometimes forget that the Reginald parts of the story are horrifying. I’ll think, hey this is kind of a funny story, and what about that wacky Reginald acting in typical douchebaggy Reginald ways? Classic Reginald! And I don’t concentrate much on how fucked up the whole thing was. This may be part of the reason I’m still not amazingly good at relationships and trust and stuff. Because it was fucked up. Incredibly fucked up. And just because that was how I learned to relationship doesn’t mean it was or is acceptable. I want us all to learn that.

I’ve just started seeing a guy who can push all my buttons in the best possible ways. Orgasms of a frequency and intensity I’ve never experienced before. Internet high-five, right? Not quite so much.

See, I was raised with”good girls don’t”. My brain wants to think that’s total bullshit, but I can’t quite seem to stop believing it. I enjoy the sex while it’s happening, but afterwards I feel self-conscious and a little ashamed. I hate it and I want it to go away so I can enjoy my sex in peace!

Good girls are mythical creatures who are born to embody parental wish fulfillment. People are multidimensionally good and bad and fucked up and strong and ecstatic and silly and getting closer every day to ending this go-around. People deserve–and are enriched by– amazing sex. I could not care much less what good girls do or don’t do any more than I care what manticores eat for breakfast. (Okay, I care a little what manticores have for breakfast, and I think it’s probably Special K in warrior blood.)

In my long-standing tradition of giving advice where it isn’t expressly asked for, I think you should keep in mind that you’re people, and no one is a good girl, and you are worth more than having to try to be a mythical thing that doesn’t–and will never– exist.

And I’m just going to fucking ::internet high five:: you anyway, so deal with it.

I am in school studying for a career in the medical field. Recently I ran into another older student I recognized from last semester and asked her if she’s studying to become a nurse. “No.” she tartly replied. “Bodily fluids. I can’t do bodily fluids.” I managed to rein in my urge to blurt “Shit. I must’ve drunk GALLONS of them by now.” I’d hate to freak out a future colleague, now, wouldn’t I?

Gallons, huh? I think I’ve fallen behind somehow…

I bought my first vibrator, a cheap one from the drugstore, a couple of months ago. It’s been much appreciated but it’s at the end of its life. While before, I was hesitant, now I am super keen for more toys. I was browsing the internet for toys and now I want more than I can afford! Do I get a cheap-ish bullet and kegel balls first and then a better set of varied vibrators or the set of vibrators first and then the kegel balls?? Do you have opinions on Leo Luna Love Balls? I could do with more reliable orgasm (sometimes it just doesn’t happen :( ) and I’ve heard good things about them. Plus the idea of walking around in public, going to classes and for drinks with them inside me is super hot. Too many decisions.

I haven’t tried the Lelo balls, but I have the Fun Factory Smart Balls, and they’re lovely, especially to wear about town to make yourself a little crazy before a hot date (with lover or toy). Careful, quizkids, sex toy collecting is a serious addiction and I totally suport it.

Memo to self: stop jerking off right after taking anti-depression meds, at least if you’ve already jerked off once that day. Twice now the 45-minutes-of-trying-without-relief-before-giving-up has happened, you could really stand not to experience that again ever.

I don’t think that sounds like much fun, no. I wish I could donate orgasms to people. Not in a creepy way!

Hey QP! My girlfriend (and fellow QP reader) and I are in a long-ish distance relationship, with us going to universities in different cities. While it’s a bit tough being apart a lot of the time for school, every time we get together it is just absolutely awesome. Just this last weekend makes for an awesome example…

The two of us had just done some sexy times and in our pleasant state decided to snuggle up and just enjoy holding each other. My hands started to get a bit antsy so I started softly caressing her back, hearing her sigh and moan softly as I moved them along her skin, paying attention to any spots she seemed to especially enjoy having my hands on. We ended up going for over 20 minutes of just being next to each other as I caressed her. Felt so damn good and I think she’s inclined to say the same!

Long distance relationships are tough, but those times when you do get together are so worth it.

And this week we close on a most triumphant ::internet high five:: because that is what we like to do here.

Confess!

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I wouldn’t say I’m proud of this, but for a short time in my feckless youth I used to use a Ramune bottle as a dildo. I know I just got finished telling you I seldom introduce penetration into my masturbation routine, but seldom isn’t never, and yes, I put a soda bottle in my holy of holies.

Note: It was an old one I’d kept from my even earlier youth when they’d had a slightly slimmer-at-the-top bottle design, but even that was still uncomfortably large for vaginal insertion¹. I’m telling you this in case you’re curious because you should NEVER, EVER try it yourself. And I will tell you exactly why not anon.

I would usually use it while on the phone with Reginald Sleeth, my long-distance boyfriend. The little marble inside the bottle would clatter around while I fucked myself with it and he purred in my ear. Masturbation sounded very distinctive in those days. This is exactly what was happening when it broke inside me while I was on the phone with him.

I heard the shatter, dropped the sturdy dorm room phone, and gave a little shriek. You know that hiss cringe that issues from your face when you collect shards of glass and drops of blood from your pussy? I do.

Reginald Sleeth doesn’t always appear in a great light on this blog. I’m aware of that, and I’d like to be more charitable. I’d like to inform you that when I picked up the phone and alerted him to the situation he was a comforting and concerned, and tried to help the situation from miles away even though he felt helpless. Instead, I’m stuck telling you that he yelled at me and told me I was being overdramatic and I ended up apologizing to him for injuring myself.

It is very often stupid to fuck yourself with things that aren’t supposed to be sex toys. It is always stupid to date abusive douchebags. My stories don’t always have aesops, but yeah. Pretty clear here.

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure the dildomaker would actually be smarter than either thing as long as you used it on material less dangerous than asbestos, or that glowing piece or radioactive matter that Homer Simpson throws from his car in the opening credits.

Apologies to (image source). You didn’t sign up for this shit.

1. Disclaimer: Vaginas may vary. [↩]

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Just when you thought there wasn’t such a thing as a home dildo-making contraption, there kind of still isn’t because it’s apparently just a concept! But make no mistake: someone has conceived of it.

Behold!

Is it problematic that giving something a glans shape on one end automatically makes it a dildo, or is that perfectly valid? Seems like this project could potentially be heteronormative, objectifying, and decidedly misanthropic all at once. Or not? I’m not really offended so much as Dear Astaroth, but we don’t know where that’s been! Except obviously a dildomaker.

There is nothing on point about making a sausage into a dildo.

In all likelihood no one should ever use this. But it’s a little hilarious.

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Check it out, you guys! It’s ConTuesday! It’s like explosions of badassery! And soup.

I need a cock in my cunt SO FUCKING BAD right now, I can’t fucking concentrate on anything. This is freaking ridiculous.

I swear I don’t remember typing this, but are we sure this isn’t me?

I was having a really lovely time in the shower -by which I mean I was having an orgasm- and I came so hard that I bit my shoulder without realizing it.

Three days later, I still have my self-inflicted hickey. I’m a lil proud.

Showering: you’re doing it right.

Speaking of shoulders, not many people I haven’t been in a relationship with know this about me, but I kiss shoulders. They are my go-to “casual, affectionate kiss” spot more than any other. I also sometimes kiss my own shoulder when I feel like I don’t have anything better to do. I don’t really pay special attention to them during sex or anything; just like to place what Daphne calls “decisive kisses” there.

So, I mean, are we sure this isn’t me?

I can’t decide which I miss more while my lover’s away… fuckings or backrubs…

This is how I know this isn’t me. Always fucking. Always. This is independent of the fact that I don’t think I’ve ever had access to a lover who actually gives amazing backrubs, which is unfair because I am quite good at giving them.

FUCK YOU I DON’T WANT YOUR PITY.

I’ve been in a long distance friends-with-benefits sort of relationship (labels are difficult) with one of my absolute best friends for a couple of months now. We’ve only been able to get together to hook up a handful of times because of the distance, and for a few of our visits recently we were having trouble getting me to reach orgasm. I’ve thought about the significance behind that wording a fair amount, that WE were having trouble together: it’s not just his fault that I wasn’t finishing. We hadn’t had that much practice having sex together, his last partner was into things that are really different from what I’m looking for, and I hadn’t had enough practice knowing and communicating what I wanted to help him be better for me. We had one awful visit a little while ago where I felt like I was never going to have another orgasm I didn’t give myself – that was a super shitty night for both of us.

Through continuing the difficult work of having as much sex together as we could fit into our schedules, I was finally able to articulate in my head some specifics about what gets me off. And then a few days ago, he patiently listened while I (at least temporarily) got over my embarrassment and insecurities of talking about my lady parts and shared my discoveries with him. Then he did an abso-fucking-lutely amazing job at carrying out my requests. And then I broke out my vibrator and we did it again. It wasn’t just that the orgasms were great, because they were, but the buildup to them alone was rocking. Like he just touched me and I stopped breathing (this might sound dangerous, but don’t worry, my body is usually good at starting to breathe again before I pass out, although at one point I did have to ask him to stop fingering me because I was feeling dizzy from hyperventilating… in like a totally awesome way).

Everything about that visit was wonderful – not just the orgasms. We spent so much time in bed cuddling and kissing and sexing, and then we showered together, and we cuddled for a bit on his couch, and then we went back to cuddling and kissing and laughing and talking and sexing in bed. I’m still so happy thinking about it.

This is a really good illustration of how communication can absolutely make sex. Results may vary, of course, but it’s a thing. Talk about sex more. Talk about sex a lot. Experiment almost as much. Don’t stress about orgasms or other goals. Enjoy each other. Then talk more.

Congratulations, you’re awesome in bed. Or something like that.

Hey QP!

So my girlfriend and I went out and shopped for a vibrator a couple of days ago and tried it out on her when we got home. I controlled it and she laid back and enjoyed the ride, giving the occasional direction to stay put or move, that sort of thing. After a while I noticed she was starting to orgasm, full body tension and all. She kept closing her eyes or rolling them back but I kept growling at her to look in my eyes as she came. When she was done she called it the “best thing in the universe,” and apparently her first full body orgasm. Plus the looking into each others eyes bit was very hot. Win?

Total win! ::Internet high five:: because obviously.

I tell people I have a thing for werewolves. This is not technically a lie. Werewolves are hot, I enjoy reading werewolf-themed porn, etc.

What I don’t tell people is that frankly the “were” part is completely optional. Wolves are sexy, end of story. I wouldn’t fuck one in real life because, you know, wild animal, teeth, claws, probably a bad idea. But I pretend I have a werewolf-only policy because if I claim I’m only into shapeshifters, it gives me an out. It’s not bestiality. Because if I thought bestiality was hot, that would be Icky and Wrong.

And I’ve recently realized that if I was alone with a Husky or similarly wolf-resembling breed of dog, and said dog initiated activity that I perceived as sexual… I don’t know if I’d stop it. I have no idea whether this is inherently fucked up or not.

In my opinion, the worst thing that can come from thoughts we don’t act on is guilt. It’s either guilt for not acting on well-intended thoughts, or guilt for having thoughts we perceive as bad, normally because we were taught to believe they’re bad. Guilt is one of the more destructive, useless emotions. Eradicate it whenever you’re able, is my advice.

I guess what I’m really saying is that if someone fantasizes about wolves I feel like that’s their business, and if they have consensual¹ sex with a husky, I feel like that’s between them and the dog. I have no idea whether that view is inherently fucked up or not, but I’m finding it hard to find two fucks to rub together on that one.

I took emergency contraception a few days ago. Since then, I’ve been ultra-mega-horny. My nipples have stood up so much they’re in pain, and I’ve masturbated twice as often as usual despite having a cold (usually a huge libido-killer).

Someone tell me I shouldn’t be using EC as a damn aphrodisiac. (I’m not, but if I had the money, I’d be tempted.)

The things I learn here! I took emergency contraception once and cried a lot. Which is like reverse masturbating, kinda.

Give me secrets! I hunger for secrets!

1. This can be dicey, but I’d say that when the dog is the aggressor and, if applicable, the penetrator, it’s probably consensual [↩]

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When Viola and I hang out, I usually try to remember to bring the Feeldoe. And I’ve gotten better about this recently; lately, it’s usually at the ready in my bag with my cute little tin of condoms, just in case its moment comes.

Thing is, it never seems to. Because we always get distracted by flesh and mouths and occasionally slipping between the filaments of the cosmos or something. And we both forget that lovely chunk of purple silicone while we feast on each other.

There’s always next time. Maybe if we shortened our typical “next time” intervals we’d break the toys out more often. Maybe. It would be good to experiment with that. You know, for Science.

And if this pattern holds, somehow I think I’ll rally.

(image source)

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So apparently last week’s confessions were on the depressing side. I guess that makes some degree of sense, considering they were mostly about what happens when people fail to communicate. Which is usually, um, not triumphant.

So I’m thinking, what if I throw some joyous ones up here this time? I’ll even sweeten the pot with several blowjobs. No, not real blowjobs that I’m giving to you. Probably not. Well, maybe. You know who you are.

I love wearing my boyfriend’s wedding band while he and his wife are fucking my brains out.

How cute are you!?

I’ve been talking to someone on Fetlife for a little while now and, as luck would have it, our lives are putting us in close proximity to each other this weekend and we’ve decided to meet. We’ll be in a mostly public setting (private enough for serious flirting yet not private enough for one of us to end up stuffed in a duffle bag) and our time will be short so no time to play. But, I’m so excited to meet him that I’ve actually giggled, out loud, a few times when thinking about it.

I am so excited for you, and an update is absolutely imperative.

I got a new, beautiful, leather strap-on harness in the mail two days ago. Just wearing it, with and with a cock in it feels so right and so arousing. And then I fucked my boyfriend with a couple of different dildos, and he sucked my cock. (One particular dildo is my cock, the rest are just toys.) Despite the almost complete lack of physical stimulation for me, afterwards I rubbed my clit for a few moments and came really, really hard.

It was amazing.

I love everything about this sexual adventure. To get a little self-involved for a moment, not enough guys have offered to suck my cock. I have a guys-sucking-my-cock shaped hole in my life.

But I also have a beautiful, strap-on leather harness!

Talk about cognitive dissonance…

I just got back from a quick trip down the hall to the restroom after a middle-of-the-night marathon session of catching up with ConTuesday posts. As I stepped past the mirror I grinned as I caught sight of the half-dozen or so beautiful deep-red-and-purple hickeys across my neck and chest, made earlier this evening by a good friend of mine after I had already gone down on her a couple times.

She made the comment to me that in the last several years, she’d only come that way two or three times, counting the orgasm I’d just given her.

This is the second time we’ve had a chance to fuck, and I’d had a crush on her for ages and never really attempted to pursue anything, because she’d mentioned on more than one occasion that ”95% of the time or more I’m just totally into guys,” and me being trans just throws more frustration into the mix. (The Cotton Ceiling. It really is a thing. Really. QP, thank you for covering the topic so that my first exposure to the term itself — certainly not the experience, but the term — wasn’t the horrifically offensive words right from the horses’ radfems’ mouths.)

Oh, and the first time we fucked (within the last couple weeks even!) she was the one to initiate. And she bent me over and screwed me six ways to Sunday — it had been about a year and a half since I’d had that pleasure. She knew how much it meant to me, which is why she offered even though it wasn’t at the top of list of things that gave her pleasure.

And… and… also! There are no less than four other women who have expressed significant interest in sex with me, and the only thing really hindering that with any of them has been scheduling and logistics.

But somehow I keep finding myself bitching and moaning about how “it would sure be nice if I could make the sexytimes happen with anybody… maybe one of these days it will finally happen…” ~mope, pout, harrumph, etc.~

I guess I could just let myself accept the fact that I’m actually getting some of the things I’ve wanted for a very long time; that even though my libido is such that in an ideal situation I’d be having sex every day and maybe more than once… that I’ve come a long way from masturbating alone to the Gay Sex Lullaby to where I am today. I’m working on it. It’s a tough process, but I’m working on it.

Sometimes it takes a minute to adjust mentally from “I am in the middle of a sex famine and my nethers are threatening to atrophy” to “Hey, I’m getting laid sometimes! Like, it just happened, and may do again!” But I hope you get a whole fucking lot of the things you’ve wanted for a very long time to come, and your brain will get all the chances it needs to adjust to the Sex Feast that your life has become.

Sex Feast!

I love giving head. I’ve given to 4 guys and 3 of them said I was by far the best. I love to give. I don’t get off on it and I’ve never read any books or anything. I’ve never had any instruction at all. I just imagine what may feel good if I had a penis and I do it and watch a guys reaction or ask him about it later. Unresponsive guys or the ones that just stare down at you suck because, you can never tell if you’re doing something they enjoy. I also recently discovered how to deepthroat. I thought that was just when it hit the back of your throat but, my boyfriend told my to take it all and he’s a bit on the long side so I changed angles over and over again (spinning around with his dick in my mouth somehow brought him to calling me adorable) until he kind of popped down my throat and I got him all in. I haven’t discovered how to keep from choking but, I do enjoy this new technique immensely. Any tips out their for getting rid of the gag reflex?

I’ve recently been working on this gag reflex thing myself. I do not have it licked yet, but I’m getting better. I’m officially soliciting tips from my esteemed readership, because the only one I know of is practice.

I absolutely love giving head. It’s the freaking bees knees. But if I’m dehydrated on the job (haha) and just can’t get his dick lubed enough, do you have a quick solution besides some gross lotion that winds up getting swallowed?

Coconut oil makes a decent lube, though it’s not condom-safe and stays solid at colder temperatures, so it may take a bit of chafing to get liquid. Or, you know, if you’re female-bodied and make your own lube, that’s pretty hot…

Other suggestions?

So there’s a guy I’ve known, through work, for a few years… he no longer works there, but we have gotten back in touch and seem to be hitting it off. He is a combination of nerdy and… punk/goth, maybe? Rocks a long, spiky mohawk, tattoos, lots of black clothes… also ridiculously intelligent and hilarious. When his finals are over next week, I plan to confess the crush I have on him, though the idea scares the crap out of me. I refuse, however, to let this become another opportunity missed because I didn’t have the guts to say anything. So this is my practice confession… wish me luck!

I have a good feeling about this. I am precogging joy so hard right now.

Send me your confessions. You know it’ll brighten both our days.

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Real talk? You guys are geeks. And I’m so into it.

So you talked about a unicorn horn dildo a little while ago. I had seen it once before and thought it was cool, but had no idea who sold it. Then you linked it! And I bought it! And made a fornicorn costume, the dildo proudly riding on my head. I had to make a fabric sleeve for my strap on harness, and I was able to switch from unicorn with a horn on her head, to fornicorn screwing the jelly out of this girl at the party. You made that happen!

That is amazing, and I am not even throwing any snark here: If my blog never accomplishes another good thing, I’ll now always feel that its existence has been justified.

This is a response to confessor #4 on March 20th, who mentioned reciting Attic Greek verb paradigms while getting off. Beware! I, too, took Attic Greek some years ago. The class was really too big for the subject, and intensely boring, so I took to fantasizing about fucking my boyfriend instead of paying attention. No harm, right? Unfortunately, when it came time to study for the final, I couldn’t keep my hand out of my pants. Where the passive voice endings should have been in my memory, was just a vivid image of him bending me over a sleazy motel room bed and riding me until I came, loudly and wetly. Pleasant? Yes. Helpful on an exam? No.

Some people would claim that this confession is nerdy but not geeky. But if you ask people the difference between a nerd and a geek you’ll find you get widely varying responses. I can’t justify pedantry about things that are entirely subjective, can you?

I just saw some still photos from the upcoming film of The Hobbit. I think I want to fuck a dwarf.

Hey, it happens.

Speaking of sexual encounters that involve Sci Fi and pre-packaged comfort food! I have difficulty reaching orgasm to the point of being very nearly anorgasmic. I’d actually been happily and extremely sexually active for over a year before having one by myself, and for over two years before having one with a partner. And, when I first started having orgasms with partners, I would consistently go into shock afterwards. Like, shaking, unable to move or feel any of my limbs, borderline hypothermic, usually crying a bit, and in desperate need of comfort food. To say I required aftercare is something of an understatement.

So, I was watching Star Trek with one of my partners, and we were having a bit of sex during it, and he got me off. But there was no food in the house. He bundled me up in all the blankets, and got our (at the time) friend to cuddle with me while he went out to get me some macaroni and cheese from 7-11 (the only place open at 2AM). He had to go twice because he got the wrong kind the first time.

For my birthday a few months later, he got me a texts from last night t-shirt that said ”What can I say, he found the keys to my heart: orgasms and macaroni and cheese.”

This is by far the most heartwarming story I’ve ever read beginning with Star Trek and ending with an internet meme. And you know there’s competition.

I played WoW for many years but it’s about 3 years since I stopped now and I still miss it. Mostly because it’s great for meeting new people whom I can befriend and then hopefully have sex with. Also because it was one of the prime ways to socialize with my fuckbuddy who lives far, far away. I often traded services in game for special sex in life with my FB, it was a win-win situation for me and he didn’t find it that draining to use his time in Azeroth for a bit of helping. I think it also added a sense of hotness because it reminded us both of selling sex. As I don’t see my FB very often it gets lonely in my bed and now that I’m not playing WoW I struggle to meet new sex-partners. I’m trying to find a substitute game (not as time consuming) or other platforms to reach the same goal. Going out to bars isn’t my thing and I think putting an add on a dating-site isn’t really reaching my target group. I want a nerdy guy for sex, not someone ready for marriage and kids. Any advice from the awesome QP or her readers? (Preferably something that is applicable to Northern Europe, but I’m not that picky.)

Are there any Sci Fi or comic conventions nearby? Because I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the 1973 animated classic Charlotte’s Web, but there’s this scene in it where Paul Lynde freaks out in song form about how fun it is to binge eat garbage at the fair. That is roughly how I see this playing out, except totally not in a bad way. Also, readers, please share your geek-finding secrets.

i’ve been pretty neutral towards you personally in terms of attraction for as long as i’ve been reading the blog – maybe 6 months, though my shitty time perception means probably quite a bit longer. i like your writing, the layout of the blog, the CONCEPT of the blog, and we apparently have a few kinks in common.

however, a recent con dropped a reference to Sandman, and you dropped not one, but two Sandman references right back. count me officially interested.

I often wonder how many of my sexual partners are really just using me for my nerdy references.

Do any of you out there use people for their winning personalities, emotional depth, and the mindblowing sex you have with them? Confess the shameful truth here.

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