Category Archives: Men’s Department

The Museum of Penis

This morning Urban Gypsy, aka Tess, posted this ever-so-brief diatribe against The Museum of Sex and its fucking moronic public relations campaign featuring the ads found at this link. Thanks, Tess!

245_sexmuseum2Where to start? Well, I guess it’s official, I’m unlikely to ever, ever be interested in the Museum of Sex if it’s going to be this misogynistic before I even put foot in the door. I mean, if there was a woman anywhere on this creative team, I’ll eat my bra. And it has an underwire!

But let’s go to the big issues first, shall we?

Bad sex is better than good sex with yourself? Is it, really?

Last bad sex I had, in August, outraged me, because it was casual, something I don’t typically do, and over in an instant. My thinking was, “If I’m going to risk STDs and whatever else you’re risking by sleeping with a casual partner, then a) it better be GOOD fucking, and b) it better last a long time. I mean, I better be SPENT after taking that chance.”

It’s the old adage, anything worth doing is worth doing well. I think that adage needs an asterisk from here on out, and a perma-footnote that reads especially sex. Continue reading

Unprotected Sex: What if Condoms Make the Guy "Soft"

I am militant now, in my “old” age, about protection during sex. The question is, why isn’t everyone?

The images, albeit creepy and disturbing, are some very effective AIDS-awareness posters from France. I thought they illustrated this posting well.

A reader named Helen left a great comment today on a posting I think everyone should read, personally, called Getting Laid, Getting Tested, Getting AIDS,* that I wrote two years ago.

(Proof that I see every single comment I get, so start commenting more, peeples!)

Helen wrote:

What really irritates me is that guys still ask for [sex] ‘without a condom’. As soon as I hear that now, it’s such a big turn-off, as I know they’ve done that before, and probably don’t give it the concern I do. Even if we use condoms, yes there’s still a risk of herpes, warts, there’s still contact. And I end up thinking about that too much. Why do they ask?

Of course, the worst is the guys I know who seem to lose it as soon as the condom is on. You’re all turned on, gasping for it, and it’s gone. It’s like being held to ransom. He’s feeling bad, you want sex, it’s all too easy to give in and make it alright. Do you have any tips for this? Because it drives me crazy. I know it sounds weird, but can’t they try to masturbate with them, or somehow try to associate them with sex? I know it doesn’t feel as good, but there’s clearly a mental element too that they could work on.

I just wish they found the prospect of HIV as much of a turn-off as me.

And condoms can break, so even then you’re not guaranteed protection, which is why I “sleep around” very, very objectively, even with condoms. 99% ain’t 100%.

I had a sexual “professional” in the escort biz email me once to say she’d used a condom EVERY SINGLE TIME she had ever had sex, and somehow wound up pregnant. This development left her absolutely terrified to continue in her profession.

As for Helen’s example, I’ve had that happen, that when a guy puts a condom on, he suddenly deflates. He tried to use the “Yeah, well, I’ve been in a relationship for the last 11 years, so I just can’t get used to it” bullshit excuse.

And that’s MY problem, how? “Wear the fucking condom, or we don’t fuck. You can’t wear it? Your loss. I have vibrators. I’m better off without fucking someone like you, anyhow, because now I can’t trust you,” was my response to him, and the night came to a very premature close.

My advice, Helen? Stay the course. If men want to argue against wearing condoms, then fine, let them. But don’t give in. Never, ever give in. It takes ONCE. Just once. See my addendum at the end, because my friend who knows the night he was infected, he’s dying as a result. From once, just once.

You’re absolutely right — the ones who ask for bareback ARE the ones who’ve done it with others. They’re the ones to be concerned about. Just because they’re charming and got that far with you doesn’t mean they’re safe. It’s the excessively charming guys that worry me more, to be frank.

I have a male friend who just recently decided a couple months of seeing this chick meant it was a nice, committed relationship, and he felt he could trust her. They had unprotected sex, and the next day, literally, he happened to see a text message on her cellphone in which a guy texted her “BTW I think I came in you the other night. Too late for a morning-after pill?”

My friend told me he ran to the washroom and vomitted, since he’s never been a promiscuous guy and only recently got out of his 12-year marriage, and has been just gutted with worry the last month.

The day BEFORE he told me that, I’d been to my doctor and was talking about getting tested again, for my bi-annual test, whether I’m sexually active or not. Doc told me rather darkly that he’d just finished testifying in a court case in which a FEMALE patient of his KNOWINGLY infected a male patient of his with HIV.

We want to believe everyone’s as ethical as we are. We want to believe they’re not fucking with skanky people who use no safe practices. But that’s just naivety at its finest.

There are untrustworthy people out there. There are mean people out there. There are people with no scruples nor standards. There are destructive people out there.

Vigilance is the only thing we have to protect ourselves with, aside from condoms, and neither are 100%.

God, since the late ’80s we’ve heard the slogan “No glove, no love” and you’d think people would get it by now. Particularly these men who want to keep asking for bareback sex.

You think condomless sex doesn’t feel better for women, too? Of COURSE it feels better. I LOVE BAREBACK SEX. Love, love, LOVE. I just never have it. Why? Because it’s so fucking 1970, man. Jesus.

Women have more at risk than our random male shags might. We could get pregnant — which often is a greater motivation than protecting oneself against AIDS and other STDs, and is stupid, but there you have it. If that’s what it takes for women — who are the fastest-growing demographic for new AIDS & HIV infections — to start forcing partners to wear condoms religiously, then I’ll take it.

Guys, if you’re one of these selfish pricks who has a fucking problem wearing a condom, THEN GET OVER IT. Whiners.

It’s a MENTAL problem and YOU need to deal with it, not US. If it means jacking off with condoms as practice, then do that. I don’t know what you but-I-can’t-wear-a-condom, you-can-trust-me men need to do, but you got to fucking figure it out. We’re your lovers, not your mothers, so figure your shit out without burdening us with the hassle.

And to all the men who are religious about wearing condoms: We love you men for making this easier for us. You have no idea the bullshit every single woman has dealt with over the years from those ignorant, dumb-ass men who are selfishly thinking only of getting off, and not taking our well-being (or theirs) into consideration.

AIDS isn’t over. In fact, the picture is even less rosy than it was just weeks ago. Why? The CDC in America has released a study in which they report that they think their estimates for new annual AIDS/HIV infections are a whopping 40% TOO LOW. Instead of 40,000 new cases a year, it’s 56,000, and growing.

In fact, Ronald Johnson, the AIDS Action Deputy Director, says, “This is not just another set of statistics. There are people behind these numbers. People are becoming infected with a disease that is preventable. We know how to prevent HIV, but we have been fighting this epidemic with one hand tied behind our back, reflecting a disturbing dismissal of HIV-prevention as a public health priority. The new, higher estimate is yet one more wake-up call to our national leaders that they need to do more, starting with developing and implementing a real national AIDS strategy.”

I’m gonna guess that strategy is that of educating ignorant people about wearing condoms.

Personally, I think that, even if you’re in a longterm committed relationship, and you even THINK your partner is cheating on you, you should demand condoms be used. Ain’t a conversation I’d be keen to initiate, but when your life’s literally at stake and trust isn’t what it used to be, that’s a conversation that needs having.

What can I say? The lack of sexual responsibility used by some segments of society leave me absolutely paranoid about who it is I should or should not sleep with, and as much as I trust my instinct… I’m no fool.

Neither should any of you be. Why chance it?

*NB: The friend I’ve mentioned that contracted AIDS from a night he could pinpoint is not doing as well as he was in the posting I originally mentioned. He’s now made a will, has become incredibly depressed, has isolated himself, and his health is spiralling downwards, filling fear in us all, because we think he doesn’t want to fight. While life can be sustained longer than ever with the drug cocktails now prescribed for AIDS, the quality of life is often difficult.

As I wrote in that original posting, a little too presciently for my comfort, “The virus is not the same in everyone. It is a living, breathing thing, and like all evolutionary beings, it can – and will – adapt to new and different environments. Some people will be to HIV like a match is to a stick of dynamite. You really think you’re invulnerable? Go ahead. Roll that dice. But every risk you take, you subject another to, and, that, you have no right to do.”

A Frank Posting about Giving Head

I refused to give my “partner” head last weekend. This came as a shock. Having been somewhat drunk on good red wine, I had a good excuse. Truth is, it was an excuse.

Somehow, in all my writing, I’ve apparently made it sound like sitting around with a penis in my mouth is about the best thing I could imagine doing. Like my thoughts are along the lines, always, of “Oh, GOLLY! A cock in my mouth! I’ll take two!”

While some people are that type, and I wish ’em all the power, I’m not. I’m unaware of how this perception that I am has come to be, so let’s clear that up for a second.

I am penis-positive. It’s not the penis, it’s me. More on that after.

Here’s the deal. There seems to be more or less three schools of thought out there on giving head. One is that it’s the best thing ever and having a penis in the mouth is like life coming up all sunshine and roses albeit on the salty side of it all. The second is that it’s a necessary evil, and something one partner does for the other, because that’s just how things are done. The third is that it’s an icky-icky thing to do, and not gonna happen on some people’s watch. (Silly people.)

I don’t fit in any of those categories.

I’m not crazy about a penis in my mouth. Honestly, I’m not. I’m not adverse to it, either. (Well, sometimes.) It’s just not one of those things for me.

However…

My “aversion” is physiological. I mean, I’ve always been one of those people who’s not crazy about taking pills and has to fight the gag reflex at the dentist, so sometimes a blowjob just isn’t that fun… other than what I get out of it — providing that little something for a partner that you just can’t get out of any other sex act. And it’s worth it, for that. Absolutely, without a doubt. Even if it means fighting the gag reflex.

That said…

I really, really enjoy giving one of those detail-focused, drawn-out blowjobs to a guy I’m genuinely into. But it’s not about the blowjob as much it’s about what I’m doing to HIM. It’s about the pleasuring and teasing and taunting, taking to the edge and backing off, and doing it again and again until I’m through with him. That’s quite fun. Yes, it is. It’s power and generosity and control and gift-giving and dominance and wickedness and affection and play, all bundled up into one awesome thing.

I know that blowjobs are something I’m really, really good at. Like, really. There’s a reason my three-year-old Good Girl’s Guide to Giving Great Head [part 1 is here, part 2 is here] is a hugely plagiarized blowjob-giving sex-tip writing on the web, you know.

I believe, if you’re going to do something, you better goddamned do it well. Being a Brownie, Girl Guide, going to Catholic school, and being a librarian and bookseller* has served me well. I’m a keener to perform my services to the best of my abilities, I have a powerful work ethic, overwhelming guilt when I fail, but I’m well-read enough to get it done right the first time.

Having said that? I’m not keen to bring out my number one trick, something I consider the most intimate thing I can do to a man, for any old shag. I’m liable to casually sleep with a man before I’ll give him head, if that makes any sense to you at all.

Nothing like keeping some surprises around about just how far you’ll go to please someone. Always be improving, right? Never stagnate.

Or at least that’s my motto, as old-fashioned as this lay-first, head-later mentality of mine sort of seems.

But I think it’s important to distinguish that, for some of us, it’s not about the penis, it’s about the act and the gift of the action. Maybe that’s not ideal in some mens’ minds, I don’t know, but it’s certainly worked all right in my endeavours.

Any thoughts you’d like to share, dear reader? Femmes, you relate at all, or…?

The Day-After Blogging Shame

You know, this whole recovering-Catholic thing plays so badly with writing any kind of exposés about my own sex life.

I feel horribly guilty, like a first-class cunt, for having posted my thingie about my “underwhelming weekend sex” yesterday. But then I got to thinking about it.

First, I placed an ad for sex. I made it very, very plain that I was looking for someone who was a talented, attentive lover with brains. But the sex, I said, was the whole point. I was very, very clear about this. Not about having a relationship, having a boyfriend, bringing someone to staff parties, or being a couple. Sex, sex, sex. And not even one-time sex. Someone who wanted a good shagging and often, that’s what I wanted. And I mentioned I had two very key things: ample libido, and killer endurance.

Second, the guy read my blog. He knew I wasn’t just some average chick who was happy to play around for five minutes. I mean, I write a sex blog! If a guy’s going to bring his “A” game out to play with anyone, wouldn’t that someone compute to be someone they knew to be into quality shagging, someone who ran an ad seeking quality shagging?

Third, if it was underwhelming sex but he’d tried in ANY OTHER AREA — intimacy, cudding, conversation — afterwards, I’d have given him a pass. Because he was cute and nice and I’m a sucker that way. But, nothing.

Fourth, if you’re going to take the risk of having casual sex, shouldn’t you really indulge in the experience? I mean, you’re taking a shot at the whole “possible transmission of STDs” gamble, so HAVE SEX, right?

Fifth, it really is for the greater good. I would like to think that, if I’ve stopped one guy from doing the foreplay-only-as-long-as-necessary, get-off, and-forget-about-her kind of sex I had on the weekend, then I feel I’ve done a good service.

Because, whether it’s initiating what’s hoped to be an ongoing casual sex relationship, just a here-and-now shag, or something more, one of the most important things about sex is to feel appreciated — and spent.

If you don’t even feel appreciated at the end, not spent, and just used, and not even in a good way, then why even go there?

Honestly, I’ve probably felt more used out of this experience than I have since I was in my early 20s. Used, absolutely. And that, friends, just isn’t fair.

So perhaps we’re at a more honest place about why I’m so pissed about that experience. Because whatever else my ad might’ve said I wanted, getting used wasn’t one of them.

(Now, had I been used for great sex… Well, y’know, that’s something I might make an allowance for. )

Don’t forget, I’m on Twitter now. Come have a boo.

On Oral, A Reader Asks: Can I Really Tease Her For More Than An Hour?

some days are clean slates, just waiting for some input, a spark, a suggestion. some days are lazy days of slack, and on such a day, it’s nice to receive a great email from a snazzy reader, especially when it’s something worth spending a little time writing on. if you have something you think i could shed some light on, you just wanna say hi, or you just wanna wind me up and watch me go, here’s where to send it: smuttysteff(at)gmail(dot)com.

just a reminder, though: this isn’t a gig that pays my rent, so real life often (and rudely) interferes, and if i forget to respond to you or I fail to post a response I say I’ll post, please, please, write me back and remind me — like this reader did! yay, reader!

__________________________

A young lesbian reader has written after reading my three-part (evidently not so) Man’s Guide to Cunnilingus (click here to read: part one, part two, part three). I may have to change the name of that. How hetero of me. Shame!

Awwright, let’s start off with the 18-year-old girl’s question:

In your cunnilingus post, pt.3, you exhort to torturously delay her cumming in order to give her one “mind-boggling” orgasm. That is exactly my question, how do you do it? Because, in order to do so, if I start varying the rhythm of my tongue or even stop for a moment to lick other spots I’m afraid her orgasm might vanish.

In your post “Giving Great Head” you say that your “record” for delivering oral on a guy was over an hour and that his reaction was mind-blowing. Is it possible to do the same to a chick?

-Eager Beaver
Excellent question!

Let’s all just take a deep breath for a second here and think on the basics that everyone needs to know about sex:

First, orgasms don’t just up and vanish into thin air. It’s not like a Hogwart’s class on spellcasting or something here. Don’t be so scared of failing to bring an orgasm that you don’t explore the realms of human enjoyment, all right? It’s not about achieving orgasm in 18.67 minutes. There’s no time-limit involved. Taking the slow scenic route may mean you need to build back up to a cadence that’ll yield an orgasm, but so what?

The fact is, one of the best things a woman can do to increase her orgasm potential for later in the evening is to masturbate to the brink of orgasm, then stop, denied, before showering and/or getting ready for her plans/date. If she knows she’s getting laid later, she’ll typically have a better, more fulfilling orgasm because of “masturbatus-interruptus“. Same thing as if you get interrupted during sex, can’t finish, and then finish later, it’s a much hotter orgasm, isn’t it?

So, if worse come to worse and the arousal should dampen, which it often can and will, just take charge and take her right back to where you want her. Who cares if it takes a while? What’s your rush?

Spending an hour on oral means semi-constantly making sure you’re somehow stimulating her vaginal areas, whether it’s tracing a finger over her and just lightly toying with her, or during a more overt clitoral rub to heighten things, or working her as part of your oral arts. Always be aware and be conscious of her vagina. You can detour away for a few seconds here or there, but make a grand return by kissing your way down her torso or introducing a sex toy into the equation.

There are no rules, get creative. Think “If I were a vagina, how would I like to be toyed with” and get creative about finding items you can tease her with over the course of an hour or two. Spend an afternoon sometime when you’re by yourself just going through your place and finding unusual items (that need to be clean) for teasing a body with. A feather, a powderpuff, a silk tassel, sex toys… use props, put the “play” back into playing with each other.

If you’re talking about stimulating your lover for an hour, two hours, or more, mostly via oral, you have to remember that you can absolutely pull back and just lightly toy with them, using a finger or a small prop, for a few minutes to take a break. God, even just hovering over her vagina (or over a man’s cock), an inch away, and breathing hot and hard against her vagina will be arousing, and you have to do nothing but breathe, so that’s a good “breather” to take as well. Just try to keep them in a light state of arousal throughout, and when you’re recharged a bit, go back to your pleasure-giving duties.

Understand, everybody, you are NOT going to kill orgasms! Not usually You are going to ENHANCE them. Yes. Yes, you are. That’s what it’s about. The longer someone is aroused and the longer that pleasure is denied, the greater the orgasm will be. Do we understand now? Making them wait is a good thing. It’s the difference between an “ohh…” orgasm and an “ohh!” orgasm, all right?

You’re not the first person to not realize this, Eager Beaver, and, god help me, you ain’t going to be the last. But overcome the fear of “losing the orgasm” and adopt the confidence of giving the orgasm on yer own damned timetable, all right?

Besides, again it’s all becoming about the orgasm, when it really isn’t about that. Sex, oral and otherwise, is about so much more than just blowing our loads.

It’s about showing your lover they’re worth you spending an hour or more of your time literally just making them feel great. It’s about enjoying the mingling of human saltiness and sweetness on your tongue and the millions of crazy nerves firing off inside yer lucky lover, beneath your touch, as they squirm and groan softly as you playfully dart here and there, licking and kissing and nibbling and sucking.

The orgasm is just the briefest of moments, and, in the end, it’s never really the orgasm we remember anyways, is it? It’s the delightful tortured waiting in which we think this fury of feeling we’ve got is going to explode from within us if we don’t get to orgasm soon, isn’t it? That feeling’s so fucking hot. THAT is the feeling you want to work to create. That place between heaven and hell that we could all spend an eternity in, provided we get release every now and again.

You won’t lose the orgasm.

You will, however, find a whole new definition to what it means to please your lover. Trust me.

Beginner’s Fun with Role Play

In Cronenberg’s A History of Violence, we’re given a great beginner’s demonstration of how to perform low-stress, low-prep role playing games.

In that scene, Viggo Mortensen’s character is seduced by his wife, who says, “We never got to be teenagers together… I’m going to fix that.”

She abandons him in the bedroom for an uncomfortable length of time as she vanishes into the washroom to prepare for her antics. Finally, she emerges in a high school cheerleading costume and stands there in the doorway, toying with her oh-so-short skirt to reveal a pair of girlie white cotton feminine briefs, complete with a little frilly ribbing.

Just standing there, hiking her skirt up enough to show these oh-so-innocent little panties is enough to drop his jaw.

The fact is, role playing may seem stupid and weird, but why should it? As children, we grow up pretending to be other people and we think it’s fun. “You be the patient and I’ll be the doctor. Open up and say, ahhhhhh. And maybe a little oooooh.

When does the switch get flipped that tells us pretending to be someone else is bad? Why do we feel so silly? What’s so absurd about remembering to play over the age of 18, hmm?

The thing about sex is that it’s supposed to be that one time — that one time — when we let our guard down enough to be utterly vulnerable. We’re there, naked, in every sense. Splayed and ready for enjoyment. And then, we lose a little control. For the good? For the bad? You decide.

Men and women tend to be pretty different in some regards, outside of the obvious, I mean. For instance, the reliability and comfort factor of a relationship tends to be really important to a woman’s sense of security. Men can get a little nervous about that, and they like to have things shaken up sometimes so they don’t begin to feel trapped. Don’t get all silly and think, “Oh, my man doesn’t feel trapped.” What, YOU never feel trapped? Admit it. You KNOW he does. It’s primal. Who we are. Get over it, but bloody well accept it. Everyone knows what feeling trapped is like.

So, it’s simple — you just change things up. Cook a different meal, wear a different perfume. Wear a wig, even, on a playful night in. Or, adopt a costume. (Change the decor of a room to be more masculine and dark for the night. Anything that adds new elements or airs will make the experience richer for the guy. Just cleaning up and tidying it will make a woman happy, sadly.)

And why shouldn’t variety make it richer? Variety is the spice of life.

One of the things I always loved about sex in the car was that it meant never having to have sex in the same place twice. Nothing quite like a game of strip Monopoly come rent time in the back of a hatchback, you know what I’m saying? One time by a river, another on a lonely stretch of rural dirt road, another in the abandoned car lot on a full moon night. It’s almost worth the handle imprint on the ass, the rug burn, and the crick in the back, you know?

There’s a digression for you. (Hi, I’m Steff, and I’ll be your tourguide tonight.)

What I loved about the role play scene in A History of Violence is how incredibly simple it is. It’s realistic. It’s easy to do. It doesn’t take a whole night of arranging and wooing. It’s reasonably spontaneous on one partner’s part, and is almost like a gift. Or, you can plan to play in advance. Set a date on the calendar… “Saturday, July 29th, 6pm: RP Games.”

Role play ain’t just for dungeons nor dragons, you know.

The advantage in booking the night and time in advance, where you explicitly say “This is what we’ll do” is that you get this wonderful goodness that comes in the form of committing to be together in every way… and the anticipation it brings. Guys LOVE to know they’re getting laid at a certain time. Let them look forwards to it with a little idea of what the night is to bring them, and man, you could find yourself with a pretty eager guy. Don’t you agree, boys?

If you’re a newbie to this shit, there’s nothing to be concerned about. You’re playing dress-up and having a cheap evening in, okay? That’s about the size of it. The pay-out is a little no-holds-barred fun that allows you to forget about who you are for a little while and adopt a fantasy life. It’s not stupid or childish, it’s just fun. Let your pride take a walk, and have a little fun, will ya?

If you’re a vixen-wanna-be, then check out the beginning of the movie (15 minutes in, give or take — I haven’t watched it all yet, so I’m not giving a whole-movie review; just scene approval!). Watch the scene where she seduces him, and pick up cues from that. The “Let’s go, Wildcats!” jump was a little much for me — after all, do you really want to risk jumping on your loverman’s mid-section when you’re about to try to get nailed? And another point, if you’ve taken the time to get a costume and have an idea in mind for playtime, take a moment and clean the kid’s toys off the bed! Jesus Christ! Get them out of sight. That happens at the beginning of this scene, when Viggo’s cleaning the toys off his bed, and that’s not really the cool thing to have happen. You’re about to get shagged — who wants to think of their kids? Again, Jesus!

It’s not rocket science, people. It’s fun. It’s carnal, it’s biblical, it’s illegal in some states, but it’s just downright fun. Why, someone oughta charge some admission.

Photo from filemag.com.