You know, I never really considered myself an exhibitionist. Despite my deep wet sexual ungh for public places, it was never really the being seen itself that was the turn on – just the danger that you could be caught. I think. Er. That is to say, I’m not sure. There’s also the fantasy I had a while back, about a guy and his friend. Is that exhibitionism? Probably. Just not how I ever perceived it.

When I think about exhibitionism, I always thought: creepy men wearing raincoats. Or beautiful, drunk college girls riding on boys’ shoulders, sans bikini top. Stuff I’d never do in a million years.
And yet. And yet.

I’m a noisy girl in bed. I don’t say much – and depending on my level of arousal and general subbieness, I may not be able to respond sensibly to questions, either. But I moan, and whimper, and there are generally ascending levels of “oh god”s and “oh my gods” as I come closer to orgasm. If it’s a particularly intense orgasm, the sounds that come out of me as the wave crests are very loud indeed.

One time, a (dominant) partner of mine decided to record me as he touched, teased and fondled me into complete and utter ecstasy. I didn’t know he’d done it, and was so very embarassed when he chuckled and played it back for me once I’d come back down to myself again.

And yet. And yet.

Part of me was so very turned on. This wasn’t fake porn moans. These were real whimpers, moans and pleadings of a very turned on subbie feeling incredible pleasure all the way to a (relatively loud) orgasm.

And here’s the “and yet”.

Part of me wanted him to share it. To turn me on. To turn him on. And to turn on anyone else who cared to listen to it.

The idea of someone else getting turned on by listening to it… Whew. Is it warm in here? Does that make me an exhibitionist? Not sure.

Perhaps I should think more about this whole exhibitionist streak, hmm?

from ye olde mailbag

eb writes:

im currently with a man that is uncircumcised and i have never been with an un-done man before and i am afraid to go down on him orally ’cause im worried i wont know how to do it. Is it any different? Do you have any tips that would up it a level or two for him? I am crazy to please him, but i just want to do it right! Please help!

eb, I feel your pain, girl. Unfortunately, I haven’t been confronted with an uncircumcised penis since I was a teenager!

The things I can tell you: generally, I understand that uncircumcised men have a more sensitive head that their uncut brethren, which means keep those teeth well hidden behind your lips, and perhaps proceed a little more gently at first.

Really, as in most sexual situations with a new partner, your best bet is to ask what works best for him. Ask him to guide your head (gently!), to tell you what’s working and what’s not, to suggest things that might deepen his pleasure. Because even between two uncircumcised men, what works may be different for each of them.

Let me give you an example, from the “cut” end of the spectrum. Even cut, most men I’ve been with are incredibly sensitive right after orgasm, to the point that even a soft lick can feel like overload. However, one of my partners loved being licked and sucked after orgasm, and it didn’t bother him at all.

So as always, my best advice is this: ASK. Observe. And make many mental notes. ๐Ÿ™‚

However, perhaps my readers may have more useful and specific tips for you. Anyone?

to hell with the closet

Since I’m on a kick with my last post about hiding your sexuality…

I can’t tell you how many people in the BDSM lifestyle I’ve spoken to who are completely in the closet about their kinky life. To the point of breaking down furniture, completely cleaning or changing their rooms when people come to visit. To the point that not a single person other than past partners has any clue about their preferences.

Look, I’m not crazy here. I’m not talking about broadcasting your sexuality to your mom or your thirteen-year old cousin or your boss, not saying in the least that you should give blow-by-blow descriptions (heh, literally) or furnish your friends with their own copies of your homemade DVDs, but really. To not even mention it in passing to your friends? To have something so central to your very makeup that your friends are completely in the dark about?

Let me tell you how this can get very bad very fast. So you have a few single friends. You meet someone on Bondage.com or Alt.com and lo and behold all the moons are in alignment and it’s actually working out. Friends begin to ask them how you meet. If you’re very lucky, your friends know diddly squat about the Interweb and you mutter “online personals” and leave it at that.
But let’s say you’re not lucky. And the single friends ask you which personals you met on because hey, they haven’t been having much luck either and it seemed to work for you… You’re going to, what, lie? Tell them Match.com?

What if you read kinky books? Are you going to have a secret stash of these books that you keep under your bed? What if your friends help you paint the apartment or move? Will you box up your really embarassing shit, label it “feminine products” and just hope that your non-squicky girlfriends don’t start unpacking that box?

What if you slip? Wouldn’t you be worried all the time that you’d accidentally let something slip – a too hearty chuckle over a joke with BDSM implications, slight fascination with the leather bar depicted on Law and Order, a slightly sore behind from last night’s spanking that has to be explained away?

Doesn’t this seem an awful lot like being in the closet about your gender preference in partners? It does to me. And it just gets under my skin, for much the same reasons why I used to get so angry against a society and culture that forced or at least encouraged gays to stay in the closet. Again, I’m not saying you have to or even *should* share the intimate details in your life but if you’re kinky for life, isn’t it an awfully big part of your life, your makeup, and your partners to not even mention in passing to friends – even just one or two close ones?

My kinkiness, while not all-encompassing or all-consuming (and goodness knows I’ve left it behind for periods of time due to stress, tiredness, or just plain temporary disinterest) is an integral part of me, of who I am. And while I try hard to take pains to not revolt or upset unduly the people in my life who couldn’t handle the knowledge (my parents, for instance), I also don’t hide it.

And, interestingly, it’s come to pass over the years that the majority of my friends know, at least a general “oh, she’s kinky” kind of thing. And lots – indeed, most – of them end up asking me questions at some point or another. Maybe it’s to satisfy their own curiousities. Maybe it’s to help understand me, their friend, better.

But I do know that I bless each and every one of my friends for their support, for their understanding, and their love. I can’t imagine feeling so isolated and alone when it comes to my love life, as those “in the closet” must feel.

who left the toys out? woof!

Please note that this story is going to be very broken up due to editorial comments, which are in italics. Bear with me! ๐Ÿ™‚

So a girlfriend of mine calls me today to tell me a funny / horrifying story.

Well, funny to me – horrifying for her.

Once or twice a year (!) she pulls out a toy to play with.

And the rest of the year, she… what? Uses her hand? The shower massage? Closes her eyes and prays for that naughty feeling to go away? I left that alone at the time, but I think we’ll have to pursue that topic at a later date. And for her, that probably means after a few beers. ๐Ÿ˜‰

And last night was one of those nights. After she was done, she was tired, so instead of putting it right back away like she usually does…

The woman’s got much better control than I do. Of course you’re sleepy right after! That’s the whole frickin point, many a night.

And then she got busy today, and forgot to put it back, and left to do some errands. Came home to find the cleaning lady was already in the house, working. And was horrified. Ran up the stairs double-time to get to her room before the cleaning lady found the terribly embarassing sex toy that she’d inadvertently left out. Luckily…

She said that part with such a sigh of relief it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.
The cleaning lady hadn’t yet entered the room, and she managed to get in there and put the toy back before cleaning commenced.


Perhaps it’s just me, but I really don’t understand the horrifying deal. Sure, perhaps a little awkward, but it’s not like she left her 200K stash of heroin laying around or was in the middle of an orgy when the cleaning lady showed up. It’s just a sex toy, folks. ๐Ÿ˜‰

But then, I’ve always been a little different about these things. There was a time not so long ago when I had an entire surface of my bedroom devoted to sex paraphernalia, like a little shrine to lubricious goodness. Butt plugs, vibes, lubes (both edible and non), condoms and ben-wa balls had their own place on the shelf. And really, I only ever entertained sex partners in that room anyway, so it was all good.

In time, of course, I began to have two problems.

1) Lack of available surface space in my bedroom.
2) Growing cache of sex toys.

So, the shelf became a drawer, and then in time that also expanded to some longer or more interesting, er, implements, being hung from behind the door to my bedroom. But there’s still a ton of sexy things around my apartment if you look for them – an entire bookcase full of erotic literature (both fiction and non), the aforementioned hanging implements, and a few naughty bits tucked into DVD collections or drawers around the house.

I hide none of it from visitors, nor do I invite them to explore. They’re simply there, a part of my life.

Though I will say the bookcase usually gets a visit from most of my friends when they stop by.

My sexuality is a part of me, a vital and healthy part. I don’t rub it in the faces of my visitors – a show and tell session, while amusing, might be too much for some visitors to take – but neither am I going to tuck in all the corners of my life so that I’m all hospital-approved spic and span, either. If I happen to forget a toy lying around, well, oops. Sorry. I pick it up and move it someplace else.

There are so many other things in this world to get tense about. Where my sex toys are at – and who sees them – is just the least of my worries. ๐Ÿ™‚

an adventure (well, almost)

So I’ve been promising for ages to tell you all about the one and only time I ever kissed another girl.

This seemed like a good enough moment to sit and pen the tale. Like most of my stories, it has an element of the ridiculous. I swear, I don’t make these things up. Suffice it to say that by the time you reach your thirties, you’ve usually collected a few funny sex stories along the way. And since I love to laugh almost as much as I love to have sex, these are the stories I like to share with all of you.

We’d been friends for a couple of years, though we couldn’t be more different. I was short and very curvy, she was tall and very slender. We met one night for drinks and got talking about sex – well, to be honest, I was talking and she was asking me questions. I’d just begun my foray into BDSM, and there were a few fascinating stories to tell, so we talked about it.

There were more than a few drinks. And we both started to get a little turned on – combination of booze and discussing very hot sex, really. And someone – to this day, I don’t remember which one of us – mentioned threesomes. And at first, as it usually is when this topic comes up between two women friends, there were demurs and laughter.

And then there were more drinks.

Somewhere along the way, this started to seem like a good idea to us. We had a few single male friends in common, and figured that surely one of them would be up for it. Young horny males in their twenties. Sure!

We decided to head back to my place, call a friend, and have an impromptu, never to be repeated but hey wouldn’t this be a fun thing, evening. And as we got into the cab, we realized that this would mean we’d actually have to touch and kiss each other. I’ll be honest here and say that I think the idea turned her on a bit more than me – for me, it was going to be more about watching the guy’s reaction. But we realized that maybe we should practice a bit, before trying this in front of the guy and realizing that we just couldn’t do it.

I know. Silly drunk girls. But that’s how it started.

So I slid over the seat towards her. She was most definitely submissive, although she’s never played with BDSM. I knew I’d have to be the one to take control here. So I slid my hand into her hair, pulled her mouth to mine, and kissed her.

It was interesting. Different. In some ways it was like a first kiss, all over again. Learning how to move, where to lick, how to thrust. I ran my hand over her shoulder, down over her breast. She seemed very turned on. I remember we were both moaning. How much of that was the booze, I’ll never know.

At some point we came up for air to find that the cabbie had turned the meter off. Apparently he was really enjoying the show, and didn’t mind giving us a free ride. Obviously, the poor shmuck thought we were going to get into it, naked and everything, right then and there in his back seat. But he was very accomodating – not only letting us borrow his lighter to light a cigarette, but telling us to keep the lighter! ๐Ÿ™‚ I kid you not.

We made out, touching a little here and there but nothing too overt, the rest of the way back to my place.

When we got there, we were tipsy and excited and a bundle of nerves over the whole thing. Of course, I had to make the phone call. She would never have gone through with it. So I called one of the two male friends we had in common.

Explained what was going on. Told him we very much wanted to try a threesome – no strings, just one night, just for fun. Would he come over?

After I convinced him that we were dead serious: turns out, well, no. He was tired and it was a long way to drive just for a threesome. Yes, that’s the reason he gave.

So, we tried friend #2. Explained what was going on. Told him what we’d decided. Would he come over?

After I convinced him that we were dead serious: turns out, well, no. He thought it was a little weird, as though women don’t decide to do something crazy and sexy on the spur of the moment. ๐Ÿ˜‰ The point is, he declined.

So we stood there. Looking at each other. And shrugged.

I know what you’re thinking, what you’re hoping. We tumbled into bed anyway, long hours of delicious sapphic fun, right?

Nope. We hugged, I walked her to the door, and she went downstairs to flag a cab.

I found out later that friend #2 wasn’t really all that attracted to my girlfriend. I suspect friend #1 felt the same way about me, though I never found out for sure. We never discussed it again.

Sadly, I’ve lost touch with all three other players in this story, nothing bad or evil just the general hustle and bustle of life, people dropping away if you’re not vigilant about it. But I still laugh about the irony of that night.

I mean, if you’re going to try a woman and a threesome for the first time all in the same night, it should have a special place in your heart, right? *laughs* Regardless of the end result, I was glad I tried to take that chance.

And no, I’ve never tried it again. Been tempted once or twice, but never gone through with it.

Well. You wanted to know. ๐Ÿ™‚

the problem with a sex blog

It is a squeaky and absurdly early hour of the morning, and I found myself sitting here and thinking: what better thing to do than write a post?

The problem with a sex-only blog, you see, is that when you hit a period in your life when you don’t have a lot to say about it or are too damned tired to think about it, the blog suffers. Personal and family obligations have kept me from being able to think much about what new sexy things you all might enjoy reading. I hope the rest of the sexblog community has been keeping up their end so that you’ve had something to read while I’ve been away!

Since I cannot for the life of me think of something titillating to share, I thought I’d haul out ye olde mailbag and see what I can share with you from this month’s email:

Sandy writes:

I like your site, but I have a feeling that the clit you talk so
lovingly about is in fact six inches long, more or less, with a couple of dangly bits beneath it. Am I right???

I’ll pass on the obvious conclusion that Sandy must be a boy and is therefore projecting on to me. ๐Ÿ™‚ I have to admit this email shocked me – I mean, really, people, after the last several Vagina posts, is there any doubt I’m a girl? But I found it amusing nonetheless.

Clueless In Perth writes:

If you choose to reply, (none expected), is it about the finding
(somebody), or is it about the search?

Interesting question, CIP. I guess, for me, it all depends on what stage I’m at. There are times when I’m not looking for anything serious at all, in which case the search is far more fun – kind of like wandering up and down the aisles of a smorgasbord, trying to choose the morsel that would be tastiest. Other times I’m hoping for a little snuggle and companionship with my sexual depravity, and those times it’s more about the finding.

Ellen writes:

did u ever hear of a person who when they climax gets a pain from the pelvic area right to their hip. it last about 3 seconds and its not a pain like a cramp, its more like when the dentist hits a nerve ending and it travels. this has been happening to me and i was curious what it could be, as i said it last the most 3 seconds.

Well, Ellen, I haven’t heard of that particular one, no. But I can tell you that a few years ago, I had several months there when right at the point of climax a nerve in my head would tighten to a point of excruciating pain. At times I thought I was having a stroke, and I’d have a headache for several hours afterwards. I did check with my doctor at one point who wasn’t able to help me, and told me to just avoid sexual activity for a few weeks. I did so, and slowly the pains faded away, a little less with each orgasm. I don’t know if your problem is the same (please check with your doctor!) but if it is, hopefully it’s a short-term annoyance.

Well, I think that’s enough from the mailbag to suffice for now. This week, (and I promise this) I will write the story of my one and only time kissing/fondling another woman. ๐Ÿ˜‰