Tag: Sex

When I Squirted for the First Time

When I was 11 years old, I read in one of those “What to Expect from Puberty” books that a woman could ejaculate enough to soak through seven towels. Seven.

That number stuck with me my whole life, and I spent my pubescent years in terror of orgasming and soaking up the bed. Even before my first time, I would sit and play out scenarios of how to prepare for that situation. Would I ask for seven towels to be lain under me before sex? Or eight? That seemed like it would pile me pretty high; would sex be possible in that position?

Then came the times in high school when I would wake up with my pajama pants and blankets soaked, confused because it just didn’t seem like pee. I was sure it would be me; I would definitely be the woman who ejaculated enough to soak through seven towels, and I would shrivel up and die of embarrassment and dehydration right after.

Then I actually started having sex. Awkward, quick, adolescent sex that felt kind of weird and left me feeling sore and unsure of whether I had any business of actually doing it. Needless to say, I did not ejaculate enough to soak through seven towels, and my mind was at ease.

Now all this while, in my teen years, I considered myself something of a sexual revolutionist (as much as one can be when one’s mom still does one’s laundry). I was open about the fact that I masturbated; I owned a vibrator (purchased from Spencer Gifts with money that I made working at Old Navy). I carried around books titled Slut! right along with my history and math books, for everyone in the halls of my high school to see.

I wanted to be sexually free. I worked at my sexuality, chipping at liberation piece by piece. I sensed that there was something just over the tide, that if I could just let myself be carried over the waves of pleasure that came to me when I was in my bed alone, that something enormous would be waiting for me on the other side.

But I always stopped myself. I just couldn’t surrender myself to that pleasurable feeling because as much as I wanted it, I was also afraid of what it might do to me.

Through all of my encounters with sex in my teen years, I never came enough to soak through seven towels, but I was right to assume it would happen to me. When I was 20, I was in my first long-term relationship with a guy who only had three things going for him: great weed, great art (he was unreal with a tablet and a vector program), and great sex.

Although we already had great sex, we were young and wanted to take more risks. I had just moved out of my mom’s house, and she was letting me use her commuter car while mine was in the shop. One night, the (now) ex and I found ourselves in that car, in my mom’s neighborhood. We had parked in front of someone’s expensive suburban home and began to go at it inside the car—one of my rebellious fantasies. It was a summer night and it was soon way too hot to continue in the car, so we got out. He turned me around so that I was facing the passenger side of the car and got behind me, then he pushed me up against the car door and we started having sex again. Like before, I approached the point of no return, but this time I couldn’t stop myself from riding over that wave’s crest and as I splashed down into the pleasure, something wet began to pour out of me.

Now, half-delirious with the strength of the orgasm I’d just experienced, I crouched behind the car, mortified that I was peeing on myself in front of him (I thought it was pee at the time and spent the next few years of my life working to convince myself that “female ejaculate” and “pee” were not the same thing). But it was high tide and each wave of pleasure caused a new spasm of liquid to literally squirt out of me, and so I stayed crouched, naked from the waist down, dripping liquid until it was done.

I expected him to be as disgusted as anyone would be when someone just peed on them in the middle of sex, but instead he was delighted. Although I didn’t understand what squirting was in that situation, he did, and his ego basked in the fact that he had made his girlfriend bust her first nut.

So I was right, even at 11, to assume that I would be the one who came enough to soak through seven towels. But I was wrong to assume it was a bad thing.

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July 13, 2014
One Night

“Why are you running away?”

He put his palm gently on the hotel door, blocking my attempt to leave. We took a long glance at each other and then we both looked away. Hesitating at the edge of the room, I babbled, “Because I don’t know how to do this.”

He would be flying back to Taiwan in 4 hours.

“Would you like to come by Taiwan?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I replied uncertainly, fearful that my expectancy towards this man was ignited.

He turned on his heels and walked towards the windows.

The uneasy silence was deafening as I tried to decipher his mind unsuccessfully.

Should I just exit hurriedly and persuade myself that there was nothing more to this? And then constantly grappled over the what-ifs? Looking back to that heavy wooden door framing the entrance of the room, I wanted to flee these conflicting emotions. I didn’t want to risk my heart on the gambling table. My feet, however, decided that they were stuck to the white carpeted floor.

We corresponded and met for the first time that night.

Initially, I was put off by his standoffish body language; there was nothing in that person in front of me that resembled the persona whom I emailed with. But to leave, when he already spotted me, was rude, I felt. Hence, I went along with him for dinner.

Over the meal, we argued over the syntactical complexity of Singlish (or the lack of, in his case). Discussing the philosophies of Zhuangzi and Heidegger, however, brought us back onto one same page. His insightful rendition of Zhuangzi’s story about Cook Ding, framed through the Heideggerian ready-to-hand concept, sliced up the dissonance we had.

We talked about the animes we like and those that we would recommend to each other. The dinner turned to drinks and before we knew it, we were walking down the Orchard Road and to his hotel.

“Would you like to hold my hand?” he gleefully asked.

I took a long look at him and blushingly crossed my right fingers with his left fingers.

We ended up on his hotel bed, watching anime on his laptop and playing footsie. He crept his hand over to my back and traced circles on it with his forefinger.

“You haven’t told me how old are you?”

I refused to divulge and we played the guessing game.

“Well, if you ain’t gonna tell me, I’m going to sleep.”

He turned over on his belly and grabbed the pillow with one hand to lay his head.

The footsie game went on.

When I finally whispered the answer to his ear, he jumped on the bed and held me against the bed. He pressed his lips over mine and flicked his tongue to part my mouth.

“You ain’t lying about your age?” he questioned again when our tongues parted.

“Yesssss,” I hissed and grabbed his neck.

He began peeling my clothes off and we made love that night.

It wasn’t the first time I slept with a man I met for the very first time. But it felt different.

We went from the bed to the wall and back to the edge of the bed. We talked about our dreams, our fears and joked about life. We teased each other for a long time before we both came. Lying comfortably against his chest, we enjoyed the naked silence.

But when morning came and I had to leave for work, we were awkwardly stuck at the door.

“Come here,” he said and came over to hug me. We held each other and kissed for the last time.

“I will message you when I get back.”

I felt unsure about this sudden optimism that had blossomed within. The instinctive need to suppress this joyous feeling was overwhelming at the same time. I have to have no expectations of him.

At work, it was hard not think about the night; I couldn’t stop looking at my phone.

How could I ever think that it would be any different with him?

The self-talk wouldn’t cease.

Later that night, as I lie on my bed, deciding that it was all over, my inbox registered a new email.

It was Hilly.

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July 10, 2014
Making Love vs Shagging

Matt-at-Lotus on a common dilemma we didn’t know we had

Once upon a time in a gay sauna somewhere on the outskirts of the Midlands, sex was taking place or rather something mysterious happened between myself and a stranger who to this day, I have no idea what his name is. I do know that he is from Leeds. If you are a guy reading this, you may well be giggling to yourself because you know that it isn’t that unusual to have anonymous (the clue is in the name) sex with someone and never even get to the exchanging of names, let alone numbers. Who cares? Well, about what a person is (name, job, etc) I don’t give a damn. About who they are—I’m in.

So allow me to paint you a pretty picture of this meeting of sweaty souls: I see the guy standing against the wall in the dark corridor of the sauna. He was, of course, wearing only a towel. I am pretty forward and impatient by nature so I simply nodded to him to follow me into the ‘rest room’ (the clue is not in the name) and we locked the door behind us. Then something amazing happened.

I lay on top of him. There was no penetration except for tongues in mouths. Our breath was laboured, bodies sweaty and spines on fire. We rhythmically moved in unison. No speaking, climax, sudden climax in unison and then, then—it happened: we both burst into tears.

I’m gonna give you a minute to process that …

Want to know what happened there? We made love. Simple. As. That.

No need for penetration. No props required. Just two guys (or souls, if you are that way inclined) sharing their nakedness on every level. We did not need to speak about the tears, we just lay there holding each other quite happily until we didn’t need to hold on anymore. Then we exchanged pleasantries (which is probably when I discovered he was from Leeds) and went our separate ways. I wasn’t left with the urge to marry him, stalk him or bum him.

I was left feeling content and, wait for it: completely sexually satisfied.

So, dear reader: making love or shagging?

That is entirely up to you.

Until next time …

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June 22, 2014
Top 5 Tips for Having Sex with A Transsexual
Adult Star Venus Lux shares her tips for having sex with a transsexual on SimplySxy!

As you all know, the world is always changing especially when it comes to sexuality. Sex has no color, age, race, or any prejudice. With so much accessibility to pornography via the internet, people are now more willing to explore untouched territory especially when it comes to sex with transgender women. Sex should never be hard but sometimes when it comes to something unknown, useful information from a professional can put you on the right track! These are my top 5 tips to approaching sex with a transgender woman.

1. Low expectations

Don’t get me wrong, having expectations are awesome! But to really have a good experience, it’s always best to know what you like but don’t expect your life fantasy to be all fulfilled in one instance. This is applicable both in life and in sex.

2. Research

Please do your homework and don’t hesitate to watch transsexual porn, so that you can get a better sense of what you like and what you may not. Along with understanding some of the sexual terminology such as (Greek, rimming, cuckold, missionary, creampie, top, bottom, etc). And if you are planning to be a bottom, understanding how to properly cleanse yourself for penetration is highly advised!

3. The meeting

Just like anyone else, always approach a transsexual with respect and common courtesy following the usage of proper address. You would hate to ruin the mood by calling a transsexual a man, gay, or a shemale. Like my friends say, “if the person is wearing a dress, address the person as a female”. Also, just because a transsexual may or may not have a penis, make sure you are sexually mutual beforehand. (Don’t hope to bottom if the girl isn’t into it)

4. Sexual courtesy

As a guy, maybe you don’t want to get a finger up your butt or get choked during sex. Of course, everyone should address their comforts and limits beginning and during sex. But if you plan to take on more of the power role in bed, always consider your partner’s needs if you want to continue the momentum. Below are some key tips about transsexuals:
- ask if you can touch their hair (Keep in mind of extensions)
- ask if you can touch their face (Some girls take pride in their makeup)
- ask if you can touch or suck their cock (Some girls like it, some don’t)
These are just a few side notes to think about.

5. The moment

I’m sure at this point, your cock is already throbbing. No worries! This is the time to enjoy yourself and to lose yourself in “the moment”. Be playful and try some new things. Be warned after the first time, you are just going to want more and better!

P.S. A transsexual can’t get pregnant but always play and think safe! Safe sex can still always be fun. For me, Trojan bareskin condoms and kiwi strawberry WET lube always does wonders!

Venus Lux has become one of the top transsexual performers in the industry in the brief two years she has been in the adult industry. Since joining the industry in 2012, Venus has established herself as an experimental and dynamic performer, shining in an array of noteworthy scenes with men, women and transsexuals. The busty bombshell has attained numerous nominations and awards including a nomination for Transsexual Performer of the Year in the 2013 and 2014 AVN Awards. Venus currently holds the 2014 XBiz Award for Transsexual Performer of the Year and was named XCritic’s “Must-See Girl of the Month” in March 2014. At the 2014 Tranny Awards, the multi-talented star took home three awards for Best Scene, Best Solo Website and Hardcore Performer of the Year. The Asian Goddess has also shown that she is a skilled businesswoman with the launch of her member’s website Venus-Lux.com, which stars some of the hottest adult starlets and is one of the few independently run websites for transsexuals. Venus writes a popular column for AIPDaily called “Venus Rising” where she shares her opinions and news in the adult industry. With multiple awards and several mainstream projects under her belt, it’s clear that this alluring performer isn’t going anywhere and it won’t be long before Venus Lux is a household name.

http://www.starfactorypr.com/venus-lux-bio.html
http://wwww.starfactorypr.com/venus-lux
http://www.Venus-Lux.com
http://twitter.com/VenusLux
http://instagram.com/VenusLux

Images courtesy of Venus Lux
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June 21, 2014
Sex Under the Influence of Jack Daniels Vs. Sex Under the Influence of Mary Jane

First off, this article was written for the sole purpose of scientific inquiry. We understand that cannabis use has not yet made that leap towards international legalization, and while that’s a shame, we discourage use of illicit substances. Having said that, let’s move forward to the heart and soul of the article. I have my own share of experiences having sex after a night of heavy drinking and a few nights making love under the influence of cannabis. Sex alone, no matter how lousy, is a magical experience. How wonderful can it get if I was to add a substance to enhance the experience?

Complex Intellectual Functioning

In my experience of smoking pot and in my experience of drinking alcohol near my level of tolerance, I noticed that higher levels of brain functioning was no longer available. In both experiences, I could not think straight, I wasn’t very rational, and I lost the ability to think ahead. Nonetheless, who needs rational thinking when you’re about to have sex?

Anxiety

Personally, I experience a bit of a performance anxiety when having sex with someone for the first time. At the back of my head, I know my performance today might affect my chances with other girls in the future because girls talk a lot, and they talk about everything. Alcohol made sure those nasty thoughts in my head were gone. Likewise, anxious thoughts had no space in my cannabinoid-surging brain. In both experiences, my tendency to be anxious was addressed.

Extended Plateau Phase

One magical thing I noticed under the influence of either alcohol or marijuana was the extended plateau phase. I was less excited by visual cues such as a woman’s full breasts, curvy body, toned midsection, and flawless skin among others when tipsy. I was able to last longer and enjoy the experience rather than thinking of disgusting things just to hold it a little longer. The same was true when I smoked weed prior to sex; I was living in the moment. Thinking of nothing else and fully taking in every stimulus presented by each moment led to a fascinating experience. Under the influence of marijuana, paradoxically, I felt like I was letting go and letting the experience come yet I felt like I was in complete control. Being in this state of mind gave me the pleasure of extending the plateau phase for as long as I wanted.

Motivation

The motivation behind wanting to have sex under the influence of alcohol was different from my motivation when I smoked pot. After consuming a few beers or a few shots and I was with someone, my desire to take her clothes off and do unspeakable things would usually consume me. With my heightened libido, I could not wait until my woman and I were behind closed doors and closed lights so that I could get the bed rocking and creaking. In retrospect, I was motivated to have sex to satisfy my need for pleasure and release. On the other hand, the motivation to be with someone under the influence of cannabis was to be able to touch and feel a woman’s body. I wasn’t burning with desire; however, my skin wanted to feel the skin of the woman I’m with. I found intense pleasure in pressing my body against my lover’s body. As opposed to using a woman’s body to gratify my sexual desires, my main motivation under the influence of weed was to enjoy and share my body with my lover. There’s a huge difference in terms of experience when I was out to get something versus when I was out to share something.

Sensual Acuity

Under the influence of alcohol, I noticed I was less sensitive as if my entire body was covered by a huge condom. I was still able to enjoy a woman’s soft and delicate body, and I could still feel her warm and lubricating lady parts but it was not as intense as compared to when I’m sober. The loss of sensitivity can also be a factor in extending the plateau phase of the encounter. On the contrary, a sexual experience enhanced by marijuana can be strong, passionate, and intense. It’s as if every part of my body was coming to life. I was extra sensitive, but I wasn’t too excited. My attention was not confined to my manhood; I was aware of every sensation from my hair down to my toes. Words fail to completely describe the beautiful experience.

Partner in Crime

Having sex sober can also be a mind-blowing experience. However, if my partner was a little tipsy or has elected to take a hit or two, the tryst can drastically change for the better. After sharing a few drinks with my woman, the approach to sex took a different form. Instead of the usual slow and calculated movements along with an incredible amount of gentle foreplay, tipsy sex can be rough, beastly, and desecrating. Both of us couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes apart. Once the clothes were on the floor, every action was directed by impulse. Hickies and scratches were unavoidable because of the irresistible urge to follow basic instincts. On the other hand, having sex when my partner and I smoked pot was the epitome of lovemaking. The need to have our bodies close and pressed against each other was insatiable. I couldn’t get enough of kissing her, and she couldn’t get enough kissing me. I wanted to lick and suck every inch of her skin, and she wanted to do the same to me. It may sound like spiritual mumbo-jumbo but once I was inside of her, I experienced the hallucinogenic property of marijuana. It felt like I was making love to every woman and all women in the world at the same time. The encounter was transcendental as I was able to go beyond my body, and her body acted as a conduit to a greater experience. I have no idea if she felt the same. I hope she did.

Like I said before, sex alone is a magical experience. Add a substance and the experience can go to another level or take a different form. Sex under the influence of alcohol is amazing and the wonderful thing about it is that consumption of alcohol is legal everywhere. I can’t say the same thing about weed because only a few states have allowed its recreational use. If you are lucky enough to be living in this state, what’s stopping you from taking advantage of its effects?

SimplySxy does not advocate the use of any form of drugs and illicit substances.

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June 17, 2014
Getaway Sex

It’s 1 a.m. I lay beside a sleeping man, my boyfriend. He’s sprawled out on his back, deep in slumber.

I’m horny.

Now maybe normally, if we were at home, I’d just make myself go to sleep. We’d both have long days to face ahead of us—him, with his work running a hostel and me with mine of teaching English to elementary kids. We’d need our energy, which means we’d need our sleep.

But this isn’t normally. We’re on day two of a four-day holiday, and that means we can use our energy and how we choose to. Either tomorrow … or tonight.

So I start to give him head.

I remember years ago, a boyfriend I had asked me why I never woke him up for sex. The thought had genuinely never occurred to me before, and while I could see where he was coming from, I didn’t see its appeal.

“I wouldn’t want him waking me up for sex,” I thought. So I just did what I do in those situations and agreed with him while simultaneously shoving that in the “things I’ll never do” mental file.

But tonight, some nine years later, I pick up that thought and move it to my “good ideas” file. Yes, this is excellent. And I can tell by the way he’s moving under me that he agrees.

I haven’t had a lot of serious boyfriends in my life and over the years, I’ve become really stingy with how I spend my time. I often make it a priority to share any special moments (like holidays, birthdays, or trips), with friends and not guys I’m seeing so that later, those memories are about times I spent with friends—not about how Johnny X came/didn’t come through.

So this is the first time in years and years that I’m spending a getaway with a boyfriend. I was apprehensive at first—I know travelling with a significant other can sometimes result in Richter-scale level fights, and I just assumed those fights would find me and him.

But this trip has been nothing like that. Instead, getting away and getting out of the context of our normal lives has shown me how well we reinforce each other. He’s been like my backbone and mind reader this trip. We travelled to Samcheok, a beach in Korea 3 hours east of Seoul, with 2 other couples, and he and I have never been more in tune. When someone suggests something we’re not into, we only need to look at each other—and then he speaks up.

These are my friends, so he’s agreed to take the loss and be the disagreeable one so I can keep the group harmony (and I didn’t even have to ask).

And we spend the entire day with him whispering in my ear “I want to fuck you right now,” which means that the sex on our trip has been some of the best sex we’ve had since we first got together.

Going on a mini-vacation together showed me that I picked a partner who is well-suited to me and we flow well as a couple. It not only spiced up our sex, but also reinforced our mental and emotional connection. For couples who are considering traveling together or experiencing a little bit of a lag, I definitely recommend a mini-vacation as a way to spice things up/see your relationship more clearly.

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June 7, 2014
Is Coming of Age Bothering You?

The other day I was sitting reading the paper with a coffee and watching people stroll by when I saw a man I hadn’t seen in a long time. We can call him Peter. Peter is in his mid seventies and is a retired accountant. He spends most of the year in sunny Spain and a few weeks back in England where he is from. He has been a widower since several years. I met Peter at a BBQ a couple of years back and I found him an easygoing man with a lot of fun stories to tell. We don’t live close to each other, but we always run into one another a few times a year.

Peter might be old, but he is not dead, and every summer he finds some nice young girl to keep, yes, he is a sugar daddy. I have met a couple of his previous girls and they are all in their mid twenties and very good looking.

When he saw me sitting alone, he asked if he could join me, and after the usual chit-chat I noticed he looked a bit off. He had a vacant look on his face, and seemed to be a bit down. I asked him what was going on and this is what he told me.

He had met a new girl a week or so before and she had moved in with him in his villa. Everything was going great until one afternoon. He had been to the grocery store and had told her he would visit a friend after. The friend wasn’t at home so he got back earlier than planned. When he entered the living room, he found his girlfriend on the sofa watching a porn flick on the plasma screen. He was surprised since he didn’t own any porn movies.

When she noticed him; instead of turning off the movie she let it play and began to tell him how hot she was and how much she wanted him. Naturally, he went along and after the sex he asked her where she got the movie from. She told him she had downloaded it on his laptop and then burnt a DVD.

When he finished the story I asked him what the problem was. Obviously the girl was into him. He said that while having sex on the sofa, she kept watching the movie, and he felt she got more turned on by what she saw than from him. He was worried that she needed to see younger guys to get turned on and to have sex with him.

I thought for a while and realized he might be right. Some people say that women don’t like porn, but I disagree. I think certain types of porn are not exciting for women. Personally, I hate when they spit on cocks or anuses to lube them. I think it’s nasty, but that’s my opinion. I tend to like movies with some kind of backstory, (I know, they are hard to find), but something that moves the story forward. I like to see young, hot, and well hung men. I like lesbian scenes or three sums.

Over the years, I have enjoyed a good porn flick with a boyfriend, but I don’t remember watching it as a substitute for him. What I mean is that I don’t need the movie to be turned on. It is more of a combination of being with him and watching. A bit like ice cream and chocolate sauce, both are good on their own, but better together. I can also enjoy a movie by myself and get turned on, but it’s not something I do often.

I told Peter that if what happened really bothered him, he should talk to the girl and explain what he felt. He said that in the end, it didn’t really matter since she was just a summer fling. When he left I watched him go, and I felt a bit sorry for him. I guess he had realized that maybe it was time to give up the sugar daddy act and accept he was at an age where he might not excite young women any longer, and maybe try to meet someone his own age.

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June 3, 2014
Quick Fix for Sexless Relationships?
If you’ve experienced how verbose I am about any sexual or relationship topic, you won’t be surprised to hear me respond NO to the above query. However, there are two basic questions you can ask yourself to start digging at the foundation of a lacklustre sex life:
1. What does having sex mean to you?
2. What does not having sex mean to you?
When I write “mean,” I’m referring to the compelling emotions surrounding these questions. For example, one woman I presented the first question to exploded, “What does it mean? It means I’m just taking care of my husband like I have to take care of the house, the kids, and my clients at work.” Yikes. Lots of underlying resentments. Generally resentments represent needs that aren’t being met. In this case, she was not feeling nurtured and cared for, and feeling overwhelmed with emotionally managing so many others.

In another case, I asked a male client in a “sexless” marriage what not having sex meant to him. He sadly replied that he was unable to have a level of closeness and intimacy he craved, intimacy that made him feel good about himself and connected to his wife. Having sex with his wife validated his self worth as a man and a loving husband.

When sex is “missing” in a relationship, just trying to spice up the excitement level rarely addresses the depth of the hurt, resentments, and walls that have built up. Gently pulling back the layers of hurt and disconnect and replacing them with appreciation and vulnerability (with a kick of creativity) is the best “quick fix” I can recommend.

This article has been republished with permission from our contributing author, Dr. Jennifer Gunsaullus. Please visit Dr. Jenn’s website to view original post and more of Dr. Jenn’s works.

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May 30, 2014
Desire

I want to be desired deeply as I desire. I want to be touched with the longing of the continuous curiosity of my flesh, mind and soul. To be consumed in passion is like a good high. Better than alcohol or weed and as strong as dancing to Pink’s “Raise Your Glass” at full blast. Sometimes I get that feeling of desire when I am in the eyes of a purser. That man or woman who wants to be inside of you; that feeling is awesome. The object of desire, the object of the chase. Right now as I write this in a remote part of Northern Thailand, the only ones desiring me like their life depending on it are the mosquitoes.

So in the wee hours before dawn when I awoke again with this hunger for desire, I had to ask the hard question. Am I desirable? My first thought was to look in the mirror. But I know what I look like and what I can look like when I primp. Self-improvement of the physical body is not the means to the end I desire. And attraction for my physical beauty is not my aim. Desire is deeper when it’s internal heat that is generated. Beyond the pretty surface there is something more. Something I want this person to want with me; not of me.

So I dig a little deeper and look at what I’m desiring. I desire the heavens. The knowledge and the ability to walk among the stars, galaxies and planets of other worlds. My curiosity is for more beauty. Though every day I try to soak in the beauty of this planet, I desire more. Am I greedy? I suppose I am. And I desire someone who has the same desires. The passion that pulls us through the worm holes and vortexes together in an orgasmic arch! Whew that’s a good fantasy for me. But where and how?

Recently I heard a senior instructor at Taoist retreat espouse the goals of the Taoist life: health, wealth and longevity. My thought was then what? And is that all you got? They have exercises that frankly sound and look silly to my western mind, but if believed and practised, I’m sure you will feel better and live longer.

BDSM has taught me that to create a continuous stream of desire, you leave when it’s still hot. As we say ‘always leave them wanting more’. But that’s a good scenario for play, not for relating. Your partner gets focused on what’s in your toy bag of tricks and you can easily become the puppet for kinky play.

A partner said to me once: I share who I am when I’m comfortable they like me. That stopped me cold as I wondered who did I just like then if that wasn’t the real you? I know the answer; it’s our Sunday best behavior we all put on. It’s the courting ritual of mating and fear of rejection crap we all have to wade through, but that false start is limiting. And then we wonder what happened to the person we first met and liked. Where did they go?

My mother taught me to play hard to get. That way I string along the desire until I get the man with a wedding band. What Mother didn’t tell me was that I was also trapped in that band. And desire is almost totally lost once the wedding bed becomes a marriage. For that reason I knew I couldn’t marry someone I had not slept with prior to the legal agreement. A bad lover is one of the rings of hell in my book. I can only compare it to country and western music sung by drunk foreigners with bad breath and ugly feet.

So what are we to do? Pursue our personal desires is my solution with the expectation that you’ll find an equally hungry partner along the way. That also fulfils for me, the desire for more answers to my curious mind, more beauty for my hungry eyes and more dance for my soul. Okay let me make a plug for the ecstatic dance scene for a minute. It’s a bunch of white folks for the most part cutting loose in semi darkness without judgement about their rhythm and skill. Very nice once you get the hang of it. Get in your own corner of “don’t care what you look like and just move so it feels good within.” If you can find a class at a yoga studio go, or better yet turn on your favourite music and create an event yourself. Invite a friend or two over and really let loose.

Dig deeper in your soul for the art inside of you and produce it. We all have some creative talent. It’s part of the packaging like two ears, lungs, liver etc. we are born that way. I can’t paint but I can collect beautiful art. My grammar sucks but I love writing. I have rhythm but Alvin Alley won’t be calling me for an audition. I love hosting a beautiful dinner party but Martha Stewart I’m not. Great philosophical thought makes me wet, but didactic discussions like politics dries up the pussy. Focus on what stirs you and go do it. I’ve satisfied a bit of my desire by writing this piece and sharing it with you. I hope it creates the same desires to fulfil for yourself.

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May 24, 2014
Sex and Cancer
When you or someone you love receives a cancer diagnosis, sex may be the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, you are probably thinking, “Holy shit … how did this happen?” and “What do I do now?!” Though eventually, you start craving a return to some sense of normalcy, including at least some sexy time. For some survivors, this happens almost immediately; for others, it takes a bit longer. Thanks to new forms of treatment, many survivors have the time since they are living longer and richer lives than ever before.

That being said, about half of survivors report having long-lasting sexual issues. Because sex involves both body and mind, these issues can be physical, mental, or emotional. They may bother only you or they may affect your relationship with a partner. Regardless, the end result is the same: you aren’t getting the sex and intimacy they crave and deserve.

In this two-part series, we’ll be exploring both the common sexual issues experienced by cancer survivors and what you can do about them. Because I believe good sex, however you define it, is everyone’s birthright! Consider this Part I to be the foreplay to an amazing and climactic Part II.

So what are these sexual issues? The most common ones are:
- Loss of or decreased sexual desire (libido)
- Pain with intercourse (dyspareunia)
- The inability to become aroused
- Difficulty reaching orgasm (climax)
Other side effects can change your sex life even if they aren’t sexual in nature. For example, tiredness (fatigue), swelling in your arms and legs (lymphedema), and bodily pain can make sex both difficult and uncomfortable. Heck, we all know that if you are tired enough, even the best sex can feel like a chore!

Then there are the physical changes. Maybe you’ve gained or lost weight (and hair), had a surgery, or sported an ostomy. These things might understandably make you feel a little uncomfortable or even embarrassed when naked. I’m going to talk a lot about self-love ßdouble entendre intended in Part II but for now let me say this: your beautiful body has gotten you through so damn much. If the only thing you can muster is gratitude for what s/he’s gone through, then focus on that for now and worry about boosting your body image later.

*back to our regularly scheduled programing*

I know these changes can feel totally overwhelming and un-sexy. Luckily, there are so many treatment options no matter what side effects you are experiencing. Being a cancer survivor does not have to mean the end of your (amazing) sex life.

Go ahead and repeat that a few times until it sinks in. Then tune in for our Part II.

Your Partner in Passion,
Kait

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May 22, 2014