One of my favorite college memories is of a time when I experienced one of the greatest emotional connections I have ever had with a romantic partner. That evening, he and I decided to become sexually intimate with each other. We fooled around for a couple of hours, helping each other masturbate, but neither of us was having any success bringing the other to orgasm, even though I had my handy dandy vibrator in tow. We could not pinpoint what was missing, as we were used to getting each other off all the time; our bodies simply weren’t cooperating how we wished. Eventually, we paused to rest and decided to quit for the evening. (more…)
There is an episode of Sex and the City where the protagonist is dating a short story writer who, ironically, prematurely ejaculates. When I watch that episode in the company of male friends, they burst out laughing during the scene where we first witness Mr. Man’s sexual difficulty. Immediately thereafter, that hearty laughter turns to thinly veiled nervous laughter. Female friends, however, have never laughed. In contrast, they have tended to sympathize with the protagonist’s frustration with her partner — not so much over his sexual difficulty, but over his disinterest in discussing it with her. (more…)
A friendquaintance recently propositioned me for casual sex. He and I hadn’t spoken in a long time and had a few phone calls to sorta-kinda reconnect, where we discussed our mutual physical attraction toward each other that had built over the past few years. However, I was explicit in the reasons that I would not be consenting to sex, first and foremost for the damage that it would cause to one of my other, much closer friendships, but also because I did not think he and I were sexually compatible. We’re both very dominant in bed, and I foresaw an obnoxious power struggle that was worth neither my energy nor traumatizing my aforereferenced friendship. (more…)
This past weekend, a friend and I attended the 8th Annual Careers in Sexuality Conference at Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania. Although the event was geared largely toward aspiring sex educators, there was so much insight to absorb on a general level. Besides, two of the presenters wore dog collars. Dog collars! How cool is that?!
In college, I was once in a class of mostly women and found myself inexplicably drawn to one classmate. She had a feminine name by birth, but her friends called her by a masculine nickname, which I thought was awesomely badass. While I didn’t know enough about her to be attracted to her personality, she was visually captivating. Something about her harmonic voice, sweet smile, svelte figure, and soft, highlighted blonde curls regularly captured my attention. I used to feel myself blushing when we would occasionally make eye contact. (more…)
Yesterday when I came home from work, my mom confronted me. She told me that she read my previous post this week — the first post I have publicly shared on Facebook — not to be nosy, but to inspect my grammar. She then noticed a few of my racier titles and wound up reading more personal, intimate articles, like the first time I had intercourse. I was flattered when she whimsically compared me to the legendary Samantha Jones, though I express my sexuality far too lazily to be anywhere near Samantha’s reputation.
What my mom saw inspired both a disturbed horror and curiosity, especially for someone of her generation. (more…)
A friend was fingering me the other day and evoked from my body an orgasm like none I have ever felt before. It was through explaining my experience to another friend that I learned that I’d had my first g-spot orgasm — or, at least, my first one strong enough to get my attention.
My partner and I discovered this pleasure on accident. I perched my gently shivering vibrator against my clitoris, as usual, but instead of the standard external fingering I prefer, my partner and I took advantage of the convenient receptiveness that my vagina presented that afternoon to spelunk inside me.
In public, you are witty and cunning, but around women, you crumble inside. You fear being found out as a fraud, a coward, and anything less than a “real man”. You drive me wild, yet you have no clue why I would even give you the time of day.
You want me to tear your down to your raw, core emotions, then nurture you back to neutrality. You bear ample emotional baggage and need someone who loves your vulnerability as much as your strength. (more…)
In the aftermath of my recent breakup, one decision I’ve been pondering is whether or not to continue taking birth control pills. I love making executive decisions, but this one has me helplessly on the fence.
Do I need birth control pills? No, but knowing what I know now, I probably didn’t need them at all during the relationship; they were merely a source of comfort that I felt gave me access to a greater variety of activities. The fact that those riskier activities were rarely explored is beside the point. (more…)