quizzical pussy

It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the concept of anyone thinking that masturbation is wrong. So I have this body, right? And it’s mine. But there are certain parts of it I’m not supposed to touch because if I do it might feel good. And that… would be bad.

Um, what?

I’m a post-op Trans Woman, I’ve had my new vagina for seven and a half months.

I just found the vibrator that works for me and had my first vaginal orgasm…

My shoulder is super sore and I can’t stop shaking… no regrets, so much self love and discovery!

Woohoo! Motherfucking internet high five!

I’m just wondering if I’m the only one who finds masturbation to be really boring. I mean, the few times I try I can’t focus on any fantasies or what-not, I get really bored, and I stop a few minutes later to watch funny videos or do something I find entertaining.

I guess I’m wondering if I’m normal, because all of the blogs I read give me the impression that I’M DOING SEXUALITY WRONG. Like, I get that masturbation is supposed to feel good and orgasms are awesome and “if you don’t use it, you lose it.” But I’m just not feeling it.

I feel like whenever anyone wonders if they’re the only one who does or does not do sex a certain way, the answer is always “absolutely damn not”. If anyone’s normal, which I doubt, pretty much everyone is. And people normally don’t maintain blogs dedicated to things they find boring, so bloggers like me who write about masturbating are generally going to be pro-masturbation, and get excited about masturbating, I should think. But it’s not for everyone, and that’s totally cool.

I made myself squirt today!
Apparently, masturbating a whole lot (by way of positioning myself in the shower so that one stream of water hits me juuuust right) and thinking about Jon Stewart whispering dirty dirty things in my ears while spanking me and biting me and/or doing other fun hitty things was all it took!
It wasn’t even intentional. But now that I know I can…well. Let’s just say I shall be happy to devote more time to exploring this phenomenon.

I love it when the most specific fantasies do the most particular things. It makes me feel like life is a fighting game with combos.

A little backstory: I have a tiny office in my university, shared by three other students. There’s a small window on the door, so someone nosy could peek in if they wanted. No outside windows. My desk is right next to the door, but the other two desks are behind dividers.

Last weekend I was doing some work in my office, and after a while I needed a break — consisting, of course, of reading sexy stories and touching myself through my jeans. I was pretty furtive about this, even though I was alone in the room, the door was closed, and someone would have to actually make a point of looking inside the window if they want to see anything interesting. (If you’re not in academia, you might be surprised at how many people — mostly grad students, but sometimes even faculty — work during the weekends and evenings.)

Eventually I got worked up enough that I wanted more than fingers. Heart racing, I turned off the lights, climbed on one of my colleague’s desks, unzipped my jeans, and slipped my balled-up sweater in between my legs. My favourite maturbatory position is facedown and humping something — I loved the feeling of my breasts pushed up against the hard wooden desk, and feeling my clit rub against something firm but with a bit of give, while I imagined my boyfriend pounding me from behind. I migrated to my fantasy of donning a strap-on, and fucking another girl with a vibrator inside of me. I could hear nearby office doors opening and closing, locking and unlocking, and it gave me the good kind of chills to be reminded exactly where I was — the person whose desk I was pleasuring myself on could have walked in at any time. I’m not remotely attracted to him, but the thought of him walking in and turning on the lights to find me, apparently a Good Girl, squirming and sweaty on his desk — GOD that pushed my buttons.

But here’s my favourite part of the act: my cheek was pressed against the cool wood of the desk, and my hot breath curled the papers next to my mouth. When I was done, I considered replacing the blank sheets of paper — but I kind of liked the mystery, the slight confusion it might cause, and the wonderful little secret of what exactly caused those sheets to curl. :)

I’ve never been more attracted to you. (I don’t think.)

I was house-sitting last week for a friend, who happened to own a removable showerhead. I quickly discovered that it was the most awesome thing EVER. Then I realized that it was leaking and I thought I broke it, but no– the head came off and all that was left was a tube with a stream of water. Once I turned the power of the water down a little, I realized I’d been wrong before: THAT was the most awesome thing ever. :D I hope the sound of the water drowned out anything her neighbors might have heard…

Access to removable showerheads is a human rights issue. I’m not saying it’s high on the list, but certainly the world will never be quite right until all of us who want them have them.

I was on a long plane ride this week and I was having a lot of trouble focusing on the work I needed to get done. So I waited for a quiet moment and took myself to the bathroom. I locked the door, undid my belt, and slid my hand into my underwear. I began to rub my clit and with the other hand I grabbed my breast. At first, I wasn’t sure I would be able to come, but the tension grew rapidly and soon I was wetter than wet and coming hard. After I caught my breath, I cleaned myself up, checked my hair and noticed the rosy glow in my cheeks. When I left the bathroom, I gave a big, cheeky grin to the hottie waiting outside the door.

I have mad respect for anyone who can feel sexy on an airplane. I normally just feel sleepy.

Not that I’d say no to an orgasm, to be fair.

I’m slowly coming to terms with my sexuality being, uh, strangely non-sexual when other people are involved. I’ve always considered myself bisexual, pretty much attracted to men and women equally. But while I love cuddling, fondling, making out… I don’t enjoy sex that much. Yes, there have been boring/bad sex partners, but there’s also been at least 1 great one, but even that doesn’t compare to just masturbating alone. I’d think I was actually a romantic asexual, but, damn, I love masturbating, watching porn, thinking/reading about sex… Sexuality can be so confusing!

Sexuality can be wonderfully varied and confusing and fancy! And I suspect if all the spectra had more visibility, we’d find that romantic asexuals who like to masturbate and fondle are not that terribly uncommon. But you’d still be fancy.

Tell me something about yourself.

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This week my confession about not being able to masturbate properly because of roller derby was posted and quizzical pussy said I was one of her fetishes. This made me insanely proud.

On a related note, if anyone happens to want to send me pics of themselves in derby gear or maybe kicking some ass on the track, I’m not going to lie… I will probably masturbate to them.

I get turned on by awful (lyrically, musically awful, that is) sexually explicit rap songs.

I have experienced this as well, so I think I get it. What I’m really trying to figure out is why Japanese rapper Ilmari’s voice makes me feel so funny in my pants whenever I hear it despite barely ever even knowing what he’s saying! It has to be a resonance thing.

That’s how the pyramids were built, you know. Resonance. (Okay, probably not really.)

I want 2 have sex with u ladies

Despite looking like Prince lyrics, this is turning no one on. Maybe it really does need to be rap.

How many retractions of secrets do you get, where someone, immediately after a secret, enters in ”OH GOD DON’T USE THAT ONE?”

It’s gotta happen.

Oh, it happens! Not often, but it happens. Far more often I write an entire, non-ConTuesday post, then think “Oh God, I’m going to let people read that!? How can I live this down?” And then I inevitably do.

I think I’m falling in love with a long-distance guy.

The guy’s going out on a date with another girl in Friday. Intellectually, I want him to be happy with or without me. Emotionally, I want him to want to be with me.

My plan? Thursday night I’m going to strip for him over webcam, then stick five fingers up my pussy while begging for his cock. BEAT THAT, actually present girl!

You’re an evil genius. (Okay, probably not evil. Mostly just hot.)

I don’t think I can get myself off just using my fingers. I always need something more, like a vibrator or a shower head. Somehow this makes me disappointed in myself.

Don’t be intimidated by the evil genius webcam fisters out there. Or anyone else. If you’re working with a vulva/vagina combo (which you didn’t specify, so please excuse me if my assumption is incorrect), needing something extra doesn’t exactly put you in the minority. If you’re getting yourself off in a safe way and having fun, I think you should be the opposite of disappointed. In fact, I think you deserve a theme song with driving base and triumphant guitar licks, but that’s just me.

My wife bragged that she’d submitted another confession. I asked her what it was and she flirtatiously said that I’d have to wait and see it and guess that it was her. I have this sneaking suspicion that when you publish it we’re going to have some freaky, nasty, wonderful sex. HURRY UP AND POST IT ALREADY DAMNIT!!!!!!

Here is the deal, people: If sex is at stake or time is of the essence for any other reason when it comes to posting your confessions, let me know. I know a guy. I can make things happen for you. If there’s one thing I don’t want to avoid doing on my blog, it’s facilitating freaky, nasty, wonderful sex.

Communication is key. Speaking of which, tell me a secret!

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Because my vagina is now so snobby and fancy and very used to getting expensive things shoved up it, it has informed me that we simply do not do tampons anymore.

A tampon costs about $.20 or so, making it the crappy $10 jelly dildo of menstrual devices. According to my vagina, I can go fuck myself if I think that’s going to cut it anymore. After all, my vagina is used to Feeldoes and Pure Wands and a boyfriend with the most beautiful penis I’ve ever seen. So to a point, I understand how a wad of bleached cotton with a dangly string is just insulting at this point.

The Diva Cup, a medical grade silicone menstrual cup, is mathematically just a better thing to put in one’s vagina, according to mine. At over a hundred times more expensive than a single tampon, it’s more appropriate for a fancy vagina, is the argument. I think. Now, I’m not sure how fair it would be to say that I honor my genitals’ wishes whenever they get ideas about things, but I was out of tampons and when I actually did the math¹ I realized that this scheme would actually save me money in the long run. So I ordered one and then promptly got my period, which ended shortly before my Diva Cup arrived.

…Which was a little annoying, but the thing about periods is there’s always another one coming along eventually. Until there’s not, at which point you throw yourself the best party ever.

So on that last period I used up my remaining Instead Softcups, which I hate. They feel roughly like sticking a garbage bag duct taped to a hula hoop up your hoohah, and yet somehow manage to leak anyway. Considering that these war crimes were my first experience with menstrual cups, the leap of faith I took ordering the Diva Cup only makes sense when you realize I’m often entirely ruled by whimsy.

I waited about a month and a half, I think, before I started my very first Diva period yesterday. I have to admit I was a little excited beyond that normal “Jubilation! Not pregnant!² Not in total thyroid shutdown!” rush. I like new toys, okay?

I’ve been using this thing for less than 24 hours, so I’m not actually writing a comprehensive review, just sharing some first impressions:

1. Size-wise, the Diva Cup is much (much much) more manageable than the Instead, which always seemed to end up askew inside me and half pushed out because my body had no idea where it was meant to go. The Diva doesn’t feel nearly as obtrusive.
2. There’s going to be a bit of a learning curve. You fold up the Diva Cup to insert it, and then you’re supposed to turn it 360° while still gripping the base (not the stem) in order to get it unfolded and correctly placed. Now, I said the Diva Cup was smaller than a hula hoop-sized apparatus. Notice that I did not say it’s small enough to perform finger acrobatics with inside my nethers.
3. Overall, I’m encouraged. It seems to be working without much leaking despite the fact that I’m almost certainly not doing the turny thing right. And a good thing too, because I’m already financially committed to using it exclusively for uterine lining management for the next couple years.
4. And! It just occurred to me that I’m doing something wonderful for the environment as well! I should really treat myself and chop down a few baby Mediterranean monk seals. I’ve earned it.

Moral of the story: My vagina makes sense. We should all listen to it more often.

(image source)

1. Math being a thing that I, being a person and not a vagina, can actually make use of. [↩]
2. Yes, even though my primary partner has a vasectomy and I haven’t played with another guy in months, and always use condoms with anyone who isn’t Laramy. I am that paranoid. [↩]

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There is really nothing like having yet another two-week period (while on the pill) for tempting one to finally break down and buy a fucking DivaCup. I swear I am this close. Unless someone talks me down I’m going full hippie.

In other news, I officially feel like a failure at period sex. Apparently it sometimes doesn’t feel as good as usual on the penis end of things.

But see, if my vagina isn’t mindblowing every time, I honestly just don’t even know who I am anymore! I’m going to blame my current existential crisis on my uterus.

Fucking uterus. Bitch doesn’t even need lining anyway.

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ConTuesday! Today I’m not feeling chatty at all, so you’ll get (mostly) pure, unadulterated sex secrets from strangers without much commentary from the pussy gallery. Of course, feel free to add your own!

I’m really pretty conventional. Like most men, I would love a three-way with two chicks, and like most men, I’ll never get that. I’m very devoted to my wife, and I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her, and whatever she may say, I think that emotionally she would become very self-conscious if I were to sex another woman, even if she were in the room with us. But I know that she is turned on by certain men, and I’m fine with that. As a matter of fact, it turns me ON that she is turned on by other men. I want so much to watch her have sex with one of these men, but then come back to me. Does that make me cocky, that I know she will come back to me? Self-demeaning, that I want my significant other to be pleasured by another? Specious, that I probably just subconsciously want my own free fling? (We’re monogamous, and have always been so.) I don’t really think so. I pretty much ALWAYS need my wife to be completely turned on before I can perform. I just want to see her delighted, from outside. I want to see her come, HARD, and then return to me. I suppose there’s the danger that she’ll love his cock more than mine. But to be honest, the thing that keeps me from approaching certain men with suggestions right now is just the terror of the Worst Case Scenario occurring: Her getting pregnant or catching a bug that can’t be un-caught. But really, the guys she likes would probably be pretty safe for the latter, and the former would be addressable (redundant BC, for starters).

I’m a poly heteroflexible white male, mostly out, and I want to write publicly about sex and poly. However, I don’t want to do so with my name (or any known internet handle) attached, because I think it’s tacky (and possibly harmful) to write openly and possibly identify my partners, but also because I’m anxious about what my friends and family will think. But I have some really hot sex, and I find poly so fascinating and wonderful – I’m just not sure where and how to share my thoughts about it.

Why not start an anonymous blog? It’s fun and easy and in some contexts, even free!

Every time I take a especially large toy or a hand or anything else larger than usual, I spend the next day doing tons of kegels or wearing my smartballs around, because I’m afraid my vagina will get stretched out. Even thought I KNOW that’s not how vaginas work.

I have a raging libido (mid 30s, woman, i guess that whole sexual peak thing is true) and all I can think about is sex. I read porn online, fantasize about sex, masturbate all the time- and tell my husband that my chronic illness has left me with no desire at all. Ever since he got sick, I’ve been taking care of everything and I’ve come to view him as a child I have to care for. And I’m not a pedophile.

Got something to share and nowhere to share it? Send it to me.

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I’ve never dated, fucked, or even made out with a guy who admitted to naming his penis. I’m one click short of naive enough to believe that this proves beyond a doubt that I’ve never been with a guy who had a name for his penis, but if you were the sort of person to name your genitals do you really think you’d be the sort of person to hide that fact?

While I like to name things as much as the next sexual deviant, naming my genitals would feel too much like dissociating myself from them, and that’s the last thing I want to do a) because that’s where I have a great deal of my fun and I have no wish to start living vicariously through my own body parts, and b) because if they got to have opinions they’d probably be very disappointed in me just now because I haven’t been keeping up on my caretaking duties (read: masturbating) lately.

I have jokingly given my tits names before, patently unsexy names that I throw out at really inconvenient times.

INT. SOME RANDOM COUCH – NIGHT

Groping is happening. Groping moves in a booberly direction.

Quizzical Pussy (indicating left breast): Ooooh, see that’s Statler.

Confused Dude: Huh?

Quizzical Pussy: The other one’s Waldorf. Now back to the balcony, kiddo! The old boys aren’t quite done with you!

Confused Dude: You sicken me.

Quizzical Pussy: Ah ah ah I lahve eet!

…This sort of thing is really great fun until I run out of people willing to fuck me. That’s when the laughter stops.

(image source)

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Tight pussy, wet cunt, sore kitty, sloppy twat. Lady business.

I make enthusiastic use of both vulgar and euphemistic slang when it comes to my girl parts, for reasons manifold. First of all, there’s no good catch-all official term that includes all female genitalia. You know the whole “boys have a penis, girls have a vagina” thing? It’s tragically incomplete. Girls each have a vagina, yes, but that word only comprehends the internal canal, and that really doesn’t cut it when we’re talking about sex organs– even just the fun ones. The external genitalia is called a vulva. So when someone says “she has a cute vagina” that someone is probably either wielding an autopsy saw, or just plain confused.

You can argue that the term “penis” doesn’t describe a man’s complete genital package, considering that testicles are left out. However, vulvas and vaginas and penises are all usually considered central to sexual response and interaction. Balls are more a fun embellishment, like nipple stimulation or perineal play. (Anyway, stop trying to derail my pedantic flow with your pedantry.) The vulva/vagina combo is fundamental. The way I see it, it’s more like the head of the penis and the shaft than the penis and balls. It’s one well-oiled, multi-faceted, stupendous orgasm-making machine. But what do you call a vulva/vagina combo? I dunno. A pussy, right?

Or one of the countless other colloquial solutions. I mean, no one ever insists “No no no! My cunt doesn’t include my labia majora. Why on earth would you say that?” Slang is so deliciously vague. And we need that forgiving linguistic mist, or more people will walk around calling vulvas vaginas and I will just scream. I don’t want to live in that world.

There are other reasons for the slang, though. To some people, hearing “I want you touch my vulva like this…” doesn’t exactly provoke feverish lust. It’s too clinical. “Slap my little cunt harder” or similar might get a more enthusiastic response.

Also, some of these terms are terribly fun to say. We’ll come back to that.

When it comes to advertising, there’s a special problem, because apparently even when we’re talking about a body part in the most practical, least sexual sense, networks don’t want to hear the word, as Kotex recently discovered when they tried to air a pert little tampon commercial that mocks tampon advertising tropes and featured the word “vagina”, which is incidentally where you put tampons. The networks didn’t even want to hear a euphemism like “down there”, which Kotex used in their second cut after “vagina” was rejected. I’m supposing they sure as hell don’t want to hear “cunt”.

Which is one of the reasons I think Moon Cup’s new website loveyourvagina.com is clever. (For those of you who don’t know, a Moon Cup is a soft silicone cup that you put in your [actual] vagina to catch your menstrual discharge instead of using a tampon or pad. I suspect the motive for all this has to do with ecology, feminism, or possibly both. I’m half tempted to try a moon cup and review it because I think it could potentially end up being my comic masterpiece. Please comment on this entry to let me know if this is a great idea or too horrifying.) I can’t say that their hours-of-fun list of publicly generated and ranked terms for female genitalia has anything to do with Kotex’s recent debacle, but it’s definitely an internet fuck-you to network sensibilities, which is what viral marketing is all about, I guess. And! “Cunt” is coming in third!

I refuse to comment on LYV’s use of the word “vagina” beyond saying that it’s clear that their product is meant for vaginae (the real plural form of vagina, I swear!) while it’s also clear that they’re asking for terms describing the vulva/vagina combo. Sometimes I feel like I need Jeff Goldblum to put drops of water on my hand and explain incomprehensible things to me.

So I decided to review a few of my favorites from my own daily vocabulary as well as some I pulled off loveyourvagina.com. I can guarantee that very few people will agree with me across the board here, so I’m not speaking for all women or all disabled bisexuals who like dinosaurs or all anythings.

1. Pussy! (#5 according to LYV) To me, pussy is the best all-purpose term. Clever you probably guessed this when you read my site’s name. I don’t feeling dumb saying this during sex or in casual conversation. It seems playful, fun, and a little dirty to me.
2. Cunt! (#3 on LYV) I once saw a documentary TV show where an old gray-haired lady joyfully explained that the Middle English terms “cock” and “cunt” went together, and her enthusiasm softened my feelings about the c-word considerably. By sound alone, cunt is an abrupt, rude word, which isn’t always a bad thing. It is kind of annoying when people use cunt as an insult* because it sounds so violent but it just means “vulva/vagina combo”. The playfulness seems to seep out of the whole enterprise and we’re just left with a slap of a word that seems to be directed toward female anatomy. But a little levity softens it enough to make it hilarious. To describe anatomy, cunt is sometimes very erotic but it’s funny conversationally. “My cunt is hungry for manflesh” is automatically funnier than it would be with almost any other word.
3. Twat! (no rank on LYV) Old sassy ladies can use this to describe their genitals. The rest of us need to use it primarily as an insult.* In that respect, it may be unmatched.
4. Cunny! (#530 on LYV) Cunny is supremely fun to say. Try it now. I’ll wait. I can’t see myself using it in an intimate context, but it is great for daywear. If you’ve watched the B.B.C./H.B.O. series Rome, you may suspect why I particularly love this term, and you’re right! I also frequently use the phrase “wet as October” to jokingly indicate arousal for the same reason. Plus, October is a wet month where I come from.
5. Lady Business! (#176 on LYV) This one makes me laugh every time I hear it. It’s so delicate that it goes back around into filthy. Or maybe just funny.
6. Pudendum! (#278 on LYV) Derived from Latin for “to be ashamed”, pudenda is not a sex-positive term. I cannot say it without a fake accent. Can you?
7. Vajajay! (#14 on LYV) I can’t stand this one, mostly because grown women tend to use this toddler-learning-to-talk term without a hint of irony. They are what’s wrong with society. I’m only half kidding here.
8. The Downtown Dining and Entertainment District! (#2 on LYV) Although this is another overly-euphemistic, “I don’t want to say a word that might make my mouth dirty” kind of term, it’s also too cute, so I don’t mind it. I would only use it if I were talking to someone I knew would be alarmed by a more aggressive term, but also wasn’t horrified by the inherent sexual implications therein. In my world, that leaves about two people.
9. Vagoo! (#59 on LYV) This is another one I can’t imagine saying while actually using the body parts in question: “Ooooh, pound my vagoo harder! Yes!” Um, no. I know several grown men who use this one, though, and it is a glorious thing to witness.
10. Moot? (#1 on LYV) So “moot” is winning as I write this. It’s the most popular term, and absolutely new to me. A very quick google hunt tells me that it probably originates in Australia, and is supposed to rhyme with “foot”. It’s awkward to say and not even accidentally sexy, but the people have spoken! Maybe it’s a cultural thing and I don’t just “get” it. I’ll try it in a sentence, maybe: “The Australian put the boomerang in her moot.” This just isn’t working for me. I tried!

Honorable mentions go to Panty Hamster (n/a), Snatch (#21), Coochie Snorcher (n/a), Axe Wound (n/a),  Pootie Tang (#343), Cowhead (n/a), Yoni (#42), The Fiefdom (#689), and the ever-enigmatic Giraffe’s Ear (#842). Couldn’t have done it without you guys.

*Using terms for female (or male) genitals as an insult is a whole other issue that I’ll probably want to delve into another time. Sometimes it bugs me, sometimes it doesn’t.

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