quizzical pussy

I am ready to design sexy Halloween costumes. Lately I’ve been studying the art and science of taking a costume idea and removing as much material as possible, and I feel like I’m really starting to hit my stride. I realize this is a highly competitive field, but I feel I have the courage to push the cleavage envelope. I know in my heart that I can make people aroused, frightened, and nostalgic all at the same time…and maybe even make them think a little. I just need this chance.

It all started when AAG was having a lingerie.com Halloween costume giveaway on her blog where the winner got to pick any costume in stock, and I totally won (thanks again to both)! I have won two random drawings in my life, and the first time I won hairspray. Needless to say, this time I peed a little. With glee. And I just knew, like you just know your high school crush probably ended up in jail, exactly which costume I was going to pick: “Miss Krueger”, which is like dressing as Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street but replacing all the scariness and ugliness with sexiness and legs. It arrived very promptly. The hat is a little too big, but otherwise it’s everything I dreamed it’d be. Disregard the fact that I have no costume parties to go to this year. I’m wearing it around my house and threatening to kill my dog in his sleep (Look, even if he could understand English he’d appreciate my witty turn of phrase, so no calling the ASPCA now).

But looking at the other costumes available on lingerie.com I realized there were a lot of horror movie villains left out. Was no one trying to make them sexy and desirable? So I decided to be the change I want to see in the world, and designed some myself.

Oh yes, I really did, and here are some hastily drawn sketches that should give you a rough idea of my visionary talent. Novelty Fashions Industry, you are going to want to headhunt the shit out of me.

1. That Creepy Girl from Ring. The whole “being a little girl” part has to go, but we just replace it with cleavage! I love horror movies.

2. Chucky from Child’s Play. This is exactly what it would look like if Chucky didn’t insist on being a My Buddy doll and let himself be a sexy, sexy lady. Sure, you can theoretically wear a striped shirt under the cut-off overalls, but I need you to know that the sideboob is part of my vision.

3. Ghostface from Scream. This was a challenge because there’s nothing all that sexy about a billowy robe and a Munchian mask. But there’s inspiration to be found in streamlining. So I just lost the robe and made the mask the entire outfit. Seriously, everyone is going to want one of these.

(My final masterpiece is a little spoilerish. If you’ve never seen Sleepaway Camp maybe you shouldn’t click this…) Read more…

Holly Pervocracy’s The People You Meet When You Write About Rape list is one of those complicated birds that is both hilariously funny and unbearably sad…because it’s true.

An example:

Mr. What About The Men
“The real problem here is all these false rape accusations that are destroying our society! 90 million men are falsely accused of rape every second! A woman just has to sort of mumble a word starting with ‘r’ and a man instantly gets a life sentence! There are no instances on record of a woman actually being raped!”

…This is only a slight exaggeration of what people really for real say.

I also love Mr. How Do I Not Rape Someone It Is So Difficult. All those people who are so afraid of accidentally raping someone are really, really disturbing. The more they say the less I’m able to believe that they’ve ever experienced enthusiastic consent from a partner.

I write about rape a lot, mostly because (in spite of the types of arguments on this list) I think it’s an important subject to talk about. But with all the ways people excuse rapists and attack victims, I have a huge incentive to never write about my rape in detail. Let’s face it, a scary man in a balaclava didn’t assault me out of the blue and rape me at knifepoint (although I’d still probably get “What in the world were you doing in a place where a man in a balaclava would possibly be? We’re not blaming you, but you should’ve known better…” if he had.) Maybe I will write it all down for the whole internet to see one of these days, but just knowing what discourse is likely waiting for me when I do is a great, fat deterrent.

I think most people keep secrets from their partners. Not all, mind, but a solid majority. It doesn’t have to be a deep, dark secret. It can be something benign and trivial that’s kept back to avoid hurt feelings or drama or unnecessary complication. Does that weaken the relationship? Depending on the severity of the potential revelation, sometimes not at all; sometimes only if the secret gets revealed in a non-anonymous context. So! Have a peek inside some other people’s relationships! Or possibly yours…

I wrote in before about not being able to get my partner off with blowjobs. I found a happy medium! I still can’t get him off that way, but he makes the most wonderful sounds and thrashing spasms if I go down on him after sex.

Wait a minute… this isn’t a secret you’re keeping from your partner, is it? This is a celebratory confession! I have to say, you guys, I love celebratory confessions. They make me wanna give all sorts of cyber high-fives.

I get turned on when other women hit on my boyfriend. Which is reasonably often, cuz he’s a sexxay guy. I wish that he got turned on when guys hit on me, which also happens reasonably often, but he just gets insecure.

Clearly someone should be hitting on both of you at the same time. Trust me. This is the optimal solution.

Every time I have sex I use the same fantasy to get off. I’m throwing a dinner party for my husband’s boss in hopes of helping him get a promotion. I go into the kitchen to check on dinner. My husband (or so I assume) comes up behind me and lifts my short red sequined dress up to my waist. He then bends me over the kitchen island and pulls my black lace thong to the side and begins to fuck me. About half way through I hear my husband, who is in the dining room, ask if we need any help in the kitchen. I realize that it’s not my husband fucking me, but his boss! It feels so good that I just go with it! The boss tells my husband we’re coming (cumming)…..and we DO.

I totally get this. I was just reminded yesterday after a dream full of high adventure and flirting with my ex Edwin’s old roommate that I had quite a lot of fantasies about him when Edwin and I were together. There’s an unconfirmed rumor that I was tempted to spring that little gem on Edwin at one particularly horrid point after we broke up, but I opted for the moral victory by being nice instead.

I just took your fun fantasy to a dark place, now didn’t I!?

I want my significant other to fuck me. Why won’t she? I’m very, VERY specific about times and needs. Is this what I’ve signed up for the rest of my life?

There’s this theory (I think I made it up) that if a partner refuses to accommodate, or at very least consider, your requested fantasy early on (minus a “getting comfortable together” grace period) it is very likely never going to happen. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe relationships get an experimental second wind. I hope for your sake they do.

Another theory of mine is that if your partner doesn’t accommodate your safe, reasonable sexual needs, then that partner should either be willing to negotiate ways to let you pursue those needs further afield, or be willing to let you move on. But only you can decide if getting fucked is a sexual need or something less urgent.

I am a married woman, mother of multiple children, straight-identifying but, I kissed a girl and, yes, I liked it.

Notice that this isn’t necessarily a secret from this woman’s partner, but Quizzical Pussy does take her liberties. Anyway, every girl I’ve kissed so far is a wonderful kisser. I think there might be such a thing as beginner’s luck, but I’m secretly hoping that we women hold the keys to the kissing kingdom.

Now it’s your turn to fess up to something you’ve been hiding from your lovah. Or from anyone else. Secrets go here.

So here’s something interesting: the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010 list has posted, and Quizzical Pussy is number fucking four. No, it seriously is. Needless to say, my mind was blown. Yeah, I don’t really get it either, especially considering all the amazing bloggers who appear on the list. But I’m wicked excited about it.

Quizzical Pussy is still a very young blog; my first entry appeared a year ago next month. But it’s become the one place on the internet where I can be honest about sex and my past experiences. It’s made me remember how much I love to write. It’s become a huge part of my life, to the point where it’s often frustrating that I’ve chosen to keep it such a secret in the real world. What I’m saying is that this blog is important to me, and I’m honored that you’re reading it. I appreciate every comment, and don’t think I don’t notice how supportive and kind they always are whether the author agrees with me or not. I get excited every time someone sends in an anonymous confession. In short, I’d still be writing Quizzical Pussy if no one was reading it, but you all make it so much better. So thanks.

A huge thank you to the people who took the time to go over to Between My Sheets to nominate me. And to the judges and Rori, who read, tallied, and ranked over 200 nominees, which was no doubt a ton of work.

I also want to specifically thank Laramy Fuquerton, who encouraged me to start this website, brainstormed names with me, hosts it for me, gives me content (often in the form of rodgerings), and is a generally awesome, supportive person. Also Crispin Hijanx, who vectorized the curious kitten logo I drew and made it look much smoother. And no, I am not intentionally making this into an award show speech.

There was a lot of controversy surrounding the list this year concerning one or two* of the bloggers who appeared on it (one of whom got the top spot). This might invalidate the list for some people. I hope it doesn’t because it’s an awesome resource for finding new blogs to read, and I happen to think that many of the spots on the list are very well deserved. Naturally, I think my personal favorites should be higher up, but every ranking is bound to be like that. The fact remains that if you want to find some new top-notch sex blogs to follow, this is a great resource.

Go see the full list here!

*I’m aware of the issue with “Alexa” of The Real Princess Diaries, which is more or less resolved, but if there’s someone else objectionable, could someone comment or email me to let me know? I’d like to be able to warn my readers if someone else on this list is indeed shady.

I was excited to be in the first real romantic relationship of my life. The guy I’d had a crush on for years wanted me, we were “in love” and having fun, and I was sharing orgasms with someone for the first time. If I’d known the telltale signs to watch for that belie the bliss and give an ugly whiff of future abusive behavior I’d have run away screaming, but at the time I thought that things were going pretty well.

Not so Reginald. To him it was a persistent and serious problem that I wasn’t Lily. Almost as unbearable was the fact that he wasn’t, and never would be, Jack.

To me, Legend was a mediocre ’80s fantasy movie that I’d never heard of until the cute Mormon boy I had tentatively, hugs-only dated a couple years earlier had eagerly showed it to me. It was less dazzling than Willow, less imaginative than The Labyrinth and less captivating than The Princess Bride, I thought. But it seemed to have some sort of power over these two guys. It was Reginald’s favorite movie.

The protagonists, Jack and Lily, despite being portrayed (in my opinion) with all the personality of a sprouted mung bean and a pile of toenail clippings respectively, are fabulously happy together and can party with unicorns because of their unsullied innocence. Then things go awry because Lily decides to ignore Jack’s warnings about touching the unicorns, and then Tim Curry is awesome for a while. Then stuff happens and the boring people win, as they very often do in stories of this type. And there’s something about True Love™ conquering all at the end, I think. To be honest, it’s been a while.

To be really honest, I would like the movie more if it hadn’t been such a source of drama. As it was, their love, informed in the movie rather than shown, was a cynosure to him. It must’ve hit him in the exact right way at exactly the right point in his psychosocial development, because everything was compared to Jack and Lily. When things were going well, they were never going well enough because there were no unicorns asking Reginald and me to hang out with them. When we were fighting or he was bored, Reginald would literally cry because we didn’t have anything like the True Love™ featured in that Ridley Scott movie. Whatever we were doing, if it wasn’t accompanied by an original score by Tangerine Dream, it would always fall short.

In an essay entitled “This is Emo”, Chuck Klosterman basically says that he once had this girlfriend, until John Cusack stole her. Not even John Cusack, but Lloyd Dobler, John Cusack’s character in Say Anything. It seemed at first that Chuck had the edge, being both real and present. This girl was very likely never going to meet John and was absolutely fucking not going to meet Lloyd Dobler. But the fact was that he was never going to measure up to a movie, and she was never going to forgive him for it.

Love exists. It’s a beautiful, transformative force. It can inspire words and deeds and works of art. It can drive you insane or make you feel finally still for once in your life. It’s powerful, but it’s never perfect. It doesn’t look like the manufactured, scripted love you see on screens and read about in fiction. Real love is never True Love™.

When you’re in True Love™, exciting shit is happening all around. conflicting forces are in play, destiny is invoked, and everyone involved is a very special snowflake– not just to each other, but probably on a much grander scale. In a True Love™ universe, everyone gets one [1] soulmate. Or if everyone doesn’t, at least you sure do, you special snowflake.

Because that’s how stories work. In a story, everything is significant. Even throwaway details are symbolic of something important. People aren’t shown showering, or driving to work, or doing anything at all unless it advances the plot. There’s no filler, no tedium, no silences that aren’t meaningful and no dialogue that hasn’t been reviewed and tweaked and edited. A story, like True Love™, is an escape from reality, not an example of what reality would be like if all the slags around us would just cooperate.

Real love isn’t always breathtaking and spine-quivering. It won’t be all heady declarations and grand gestures. True Love™ would get exhausting; real love is comfortable and secure. There’s time for lingering in bed and cuddling because the fate of your world isn’t threatened all the time. You’re allowed to have problems individually or as a couple without it meaning that the relationship has failed. It’s okay that real love is imperfect because it’s between people, not ideals.

Having some kind of fantasy of what love is supposed to look like is responsible for more than just hurting one’s own relationships. It’s also part of the impulse to “protect marriage” from frightening homosexuals. It leads us to obsess about people we barely know rather than pursuing healthy partnerships. It makes you less adventurous, less interesting, less loving. In short, it makes your story duller and it makes you less of a hero in it.

The only people not haunted by ghosts of bonings past are virgins. And I’m not even sure about them. I have my share; some of them actually just think they’re being friendly. Silly ghosts. Here are other peoples’. No one knows whose…

I had to tell my veryvery recent ex that I was diagnosed with HPV today. He reacted pretty badly, coming down with slut-shaming, insisting he could not have been the source, and showing he was incredibly ill-informed about STIs, and generally being the reason people fear disclosing disease statuses. Before the conversation, I’d been depressed about the breakup, wishing he’d fall for me again, but his reaction cured me of that. I feel much better. Now if only I could get rid of this infection, too…

Isn’t it great when an ex just keeps validating and validating your breakup? It really helps with the closure. More on HPV in a minute…

I just found out I have HPV and it feels like my days of being a slut are over. I’m hoping you/QP readers can reassure me that there is still casual sex after stigma-heavy STI diagnoses…

I don’t think I’m alone in thinking of HPV as a sort of common cold of STIs. Tons of people have it without even knowing about it, and most of the time it clears up on its own (although it can take a while). I know a lot of people who’ve been diagnosed with HPV and work around it very easily using good communication and safer sex. They have plenty of willing partners and have a ton of fun. Just make sure you have regular pelvic exams, especially if it’s one of the strains known to cause cervical cancer.

If I were newly diagnosed with HPV I’d figure, “hey, it’s a virus that my body can kill…” and try to boost my immune system. If you want to try that, there are tons of suggestions online. More basically, pretend you just learned you have Mononucleosis or a cold that’s hard to shake. Cut out booze, cigarettes, junk food for a while (assuming you partake in any of these). Exercise, eat fruits and veggies, and try to minimize stress. Vitamin C, Vitamin D, Astragalus, fish oil, or other supplements might help. And drink lots of clear fluids, just like the doctors say.

All I want is a romantic partner who will not see my sexual history and lifestyle as a neutral at best or downside at worst. I want someone who will hear what a slut I am and find me desirable, and not in the ‘she’s easy’ way. I want a fellow slut to ask me about my adventures and share her/his/hir own, a slut who gets that ‘casual’ sex can be like traveling abroad – a way to grow, a source of a million experiences, feelings, theories, a valuable part of an identity and life story. It seems like too much to ask.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I just think it takes some searching. Good luck!

My boyfriend is wonderful, but I still miss pussy. Monogamy is hard.

Yes. Yes it is.

Do you have a secret, a regret, a rant, a fantasy, or a triumphant squee and no one to share it with? Right here.

Let’s be frank for a moment: Boobs are awesome.

They’re a tactile dream: soft, round, delicious with a distracting embellishment at the tip. They are the anatomical equivalent of the peanut butter cyclops cookie. They’re also capable of providing complete sustenance for a growing human being (this part being less like cookies), which is quite a parlor trick.

One of the most intriguing things about boobs is the variety they come in. If tits had their own nation someone would eventually refer to it as a melting pot. You can see their outline, their size, maybe even catch a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage (and all those vary widely from person to person), but you have to do some real exploring to find out what the nipples are really like. They can be big, small, corks, nubs, dark, pale, perfectly delineated circles, gradients, smooth, bumpy, crinkly, and/or run through with metal, among many other possibilities. Sometimes it’s maddening trying to guess. Sometimes when you finally get to play with them you realized you had it entirely wrong, and that’s kind of amazing. I love being wrong. I love discovering.

Playboy has this Evolution of the Boob article on their website. It’s about what style of breasts were in vogue which decade (starting with the ’50s, when Playboy started). It’s possible that Playboy is really primarily talking about the preferences of its own editors over time, but to a point you can’t argue with the fact that tit fashions change. That being said, I’m not sure I’ve ever looked at a topless woman and thought, “those are so last season”.

Perhaps even more than decades, people have preferences. I like all the boobs, but there’s something about those ’60s torpedo boobs that I find very compelling.

But I don’t believe I’ve met many people who have admitted to preferring augmented breasts. I’m not sure if they’re actually unpopular or if that’s just the crowd I tend to run with (I mean, obviously they’re not presenting a huge handicap if women keep getting them). But somehow or other I’ve gotten this impression that a boob job would indeed limit my sexual options, or at least be a liability.

I don’t see a problem with fake tits; I’m fine with most body modification. And I don’t see why they would deter me from having sex with someone. But I can say this: bare augmented breasts often somehow look less naked than natural ones. It just feels like the woman still has something on, even when she’s totally stripped. Maybe that’s why the people who don’t like them really don’t like them. Implants do make for amazing cleavage, though.

(image source)

rainbow by bootlog

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e[lust] #20

Editor

Scarlet Lotus St. Syr

On to the reviews… Read more…

ConTuesday is here! Have some anonymous internet confessions:

We (me and my wife) recently visited her family where I meet one of her cousins for the first time. I am now having sex with her. One night I had sex with the cousin then droped her off with her dad, then got a blow job from my wife. The cousin is planing on coming out to visit for a month to keep having sex with me. Oh and the reason we were visiting family, my Mother in-law died.

moved in with my sister again who has no idea, i think, that I’m bisexual. This would be the same sister I lived with who I never told that I was pregnant. And my son is 5 now and we’ve never talked about that time either.

My wife and I engaged in some “soft swinging” with another couple, this weekend. We hung out, and there was some alcohol consumed. The other couple started fooling around, mostly with her handling his cock, while I was in the kitchen. They asked if this offended us, and we said no, but my wife came in the kitchen to join me for a drink. Looking out over the passbar into the living room, we could see that she had removed his penis from his shorts and begun working on it. My wife began to do the same thing in the kitchen, to me. It was fun, and a little dirty, and safe. I began to have sex with my wife in the kitchen, but told her I’d really rather do it in the living room. She was reluctant (shy), but she went. On the carpeted floor just two or three feet from our friends, we had good sex. Everyone got off, and we all laughed. no worries. I think that one of the reasons that this was fun, was that we knew that the other couple would keep their hands to each other, and they knew we would keep ours to our own selves. I had worried that I might be pushing my wife just a little bit too much (she really is shy), but when she came, right there in front of the others, I knew we were okay. It’s a delicate thing, encouraging your significant other to expand her boundaries. Sometimes we just want our partner to take us by the hand and say, “Come on, Baby! Let’s try this!” And sometimes we’re reluctant for solid reasons, and being pushed is to no one’s benefit. We’re planning on doing it again– completely withOUT inter-couple contact.

I was the one with the bad sex/new guy confession, and you’re right, there is an update! Blew. My. Mind. The guy’s got technique, AND that essential quality in which he’s just totally into what he’s doing for me. And once the clothes are off, I totally take back the not as hot comment… what a bod!

Send me your confessions!

Er, diagram.

Have a Venn diagram of the many, many shades of non-monogamy. Click to engorge.

By Franklin Veaux, the cat responsible for the Human Sexuality Map, which is also pretty damn cool.