Single-serving friends.

The problem with one-night stands is that when they're bad you realize you shouldn't have done it at all, and when they're good you realize just how little you can get done in only one night.

I think I'm not cut out to be a slut. It's not a mushy feelings issue per se, it's more like... seems like a shame to find a really good toy and only play with it once, you know?


(Not a toy. A... augh, how does one acknowledge a sexual partner's humanity without sounding like one has the mushies for them? A dude.)

Everything you always wanted to know about EVIL GAYS.

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Unprotected.

Last night Alan and I fucked skin on skin. It was the first time for both of us. There was so much fear.

You're sure you're on the pill? You've been taking it every day? You've been tested, right? For everything? What about your other partner, has he been tested? For everything?

Years and years of "safer sex" (because it's never safe!) have left us terrified of the toxic power of semen. A single drop, applied anywhere between a woman's navel and knees, will lead inevitably to babies and diseases. And a penis must never ever ever touch a vagina, even for a moment, or Horrible Things will happen. More than once there's been some minor accident and I've felt skin on skin down there, and I've literally recoiled.

This is all medically correct, of course. You really can get pregnant/diseased from semen that's merely near your vagina, or from a penis that's not ejaculating. In both cases it's an outside bet, but it does warrant consideration; I knew a girl who had three abortions and couldn't understand why, because "Yeah we didn't use condoms, but I never let him come in me!" So our precautions are based on good sound logic, except that over the years it's become a visceral fear of each other's bodies.

Last night we fucked through our fear. We had a long awkward talk about oral contraception and urethral/vaginal swabs and blood tests, and then we went and did the forbidden. We risked each other's lives. We had unprotected sex and he came in me.

It felt so fucking good. I've never heard a man moan like that.

Tipping point.

There's a moment in Alan's fucking when he stops playing with me and he starts using me to come. His rhythm shifts from soft-hard-tease-hard to HARD-HARD-HARD-HARD. His eyes stop looking at me and fix on something a thousand miles away. He stops touching me and starts holding on to me. And he starts making the noises.

Raw, wordless, animal noises. Earlier in sex he might go "oh yeah," or "mmm", or "ahh," but those are words even when they're not. Past the tipping point it's nothing I can really type. It's "uhuhuhuhuh," it's "eerrrrmmm," it's "aaaauuufff," but those look ridiculous and it's not. Maybe from the outside it would be; who knows? There's a reason we don't videotape our sex.

I talk about my partners' quirks sometimes like I'm this dispassionate observer. I'm not. Today I noticed a big ugly abrasion on Alan's leg. "What happened to you?" I asked.

"You don't remember?" he said. "Last time you were here, when you had me up against the wall, you were scraping me on something. I should've stopped you, but you were, you know..."

I know. Past the tipping point.

God, I don't even remember it.

Random Urge.

I spent all of last night (when I wasn't working) fantasizing about giving Alan a really long blowjob while he just kicked back, watched TV, and drank beer. For all the "lol perfect woman!" stupidity of the fantasy, it was amazingly vivid.

Too bad for him being out of town. Life's unfair.

EDIT: He's back. Partay.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and good will towards men.

Quantity.

I've noticed that penis-enlargement emails often also advertise products to increase your semen volume. I thought this was completely ridiculous until I met Benny.

Benny comes more than other guys. Probably twice as much as every other guy I've been with. He comes for a startlingly long time, squirt after squirt (more than once I've thought he was done and stopped, only to feel dumb when he frantically whispered "keep going" and there was more) until there's about a quarter-cup of jizz splattered around. Sometimes I go down on him and I end up swallowing and spitting.

Is it the best thing in the world, does it make other men seem inadequate, is it worth taking unapproved Nigerian medications for? Course not. But it is pretty fun to watch. Or feel or taste. I always think it must be a fantastic orgasm. It goes on for so long.

Really, though, I think I like it less for what it is, and more for being one of those private biological quirks that you can only know about someone by fucking them. It's like the birthmark on Alan's butt shaped like Australia; I get no particular pleasure from the thing, but I get tremendous pleasure that I know it. I can look at these men when they're out in public and properly dressed and I can think "Hey! Australia-butt!" and it makes me happy in some way I can't quite quantify. It's a small kind of ownership, maybe.

Everyone walks around with these small secrets. Sometimes I look at strangers and try to guess theirs.

"Hir" does nothing for me.

Sometimes, when I'm already in a dreamy sort of mood, just the words "he" and "she" can be a thrill. The man I have a crush on, he... and those two letters tell you that this person is a man and therefore has a cock and balls and sometimes that cock gets hard and sometimes a little clear fluid seeps out and when you lick it up and use your tongue to swirl it around the head you will feel that cock pulse just a little in your mouth.

It's things like this that put the lie to the idea of jading. That once you get fucked in the ass with a whip handle in your teeth like a pony's bit you won't still sparkle a little to see someone cute give you the merest smile. That when your sex and your fantasies are harsh and extreme you won't still doodle hearts in your notebook. Sex isn't skiing; you can do the harshest black diamond on the mountain and still feel your heart in your throat going down the kiddy hill.

I get turned on by the words "lick it until it's clean, bitch," and I get turned on by the words "he and she."

I forgive you, really.

I wish Alan wouldn't apologize for having orgasms.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, OHHHHHHH... oh no, crap, I'm so sorry."

He'll say this even if he's been going for fifteen minutes and I've come three times. I need to convince him that I don't need a man who can fuck indefinitely.

In fact it's rather frustrating when a man lasts for hours. I love to watch guys come. I hate to hear them say "uh, it's not you, but it's been two hours and I just can't get there, maybe I better just finish myself off." And I really really hate to hear "oh forget it, it's not gonna happen, just let it get soft and I'm going to sleep."

I know it's not necessarily my fault but it always makes me feel cruddy.

So close to romantic.

Alan:
"I'd never pay for sex."
"Aww..."
"Because I like money more than I like sex."

Benny:
"It's okay that you are, but I'm not seeing anyone else."
"Aww..."
"I mean, I'd like to..."

Squeamishness.

Man, I keep looking through my google referral logs and cum swallowing is by far the number one query. Or specifically, distaste for cum swallowing. The most heartbreaking search string was "how to not really swallow cum." Damn... my only suggestions are close-up magic or honest communication with your partner. And that's just when I'm trying to be sensitive. My real knee-jerk reaction is "Why on Earth wouldn't you?"

But I think I'm doomed to never understand this, because I'm just not very squeamish. Confession: if a partner ever wanted me to drink his piss, I would. It wouldn't even be that much of a humiliation thing; it would just be a liquid. (I don't think I'd eat shit, though. Partly for health concerns, partly because I'm a little squeamish. As for merely getting shit on... well, it's not hot to me but if it was really important to him and he could convince me it wasn't a hateful act... mayyybe.)

It helps in sex, I think, to not think that the human body is disgusting. Well, of course, most sane people don't, not overall, but I have heard a lot of people call genitals and anuses disgusting. I joke sometimes that "boy parts are icky," but honestly I think cocks and balls are beautiful. Not just beautiful for what they do to me, but... nice to look at, nice to touch. I don't close my eyes when I put my mouth on a man's cock, don't pretend it's something else. When I say "I love the cock," I don't mean "I love boys" or "I love sex" (although both are true)--I mean I love the actual physical cock.

And the pussy. And the tits. And the asshole. And the entire human body, inside and out, wet and sticky and salty as it may be, is beautiful. A pussy is not an unpleasant thing that must be endured to pleasure a woman--a pussy is fucking awesome.

I don't want to sound like I think I'm the only person on earth who believes these things. I'm sure this is no revelation to most people. But it seems like we have these cultural in-jokes that girls think cock is ugly, boys think pussy is icky, everyone thinks asshole is icky. And that's so messed up.

Just another night with Benny.

The razor burn was still ugly when Benny saw it, but he's not a squeamish man; he tied my legs open, spread rubbing alcohol on the burn, and slapped it in. I screamed angry obscenities at him and he dipped his finger into my pussy to show me how wet the pain had gotten me.

He slowly eased two fingers into me, then three and after a few minutes, four up to the knuckles. He's got big hands; all he had to do was curl his fingers a little, barely flutter them inside me, and I shook and moaned and disappeared into blinding maddening ecstasy.

As I finished coming I was seized by a powerful urge. I grabbed Benny by the back of the head, and as he drew his fingers out of me I kissed him hard and deep, not at all sweetly, fucking his mouth with my mouth. We kissed for a long time, rough, sexual, pressed together so hard I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.

Some time later in the evening, I pulled Benny into a tight hogtie--elbows tied together behind his back, knees tied tightly together, wrists and ankles tied to each other, face down and totally immobile. (I kept nervously checking his breathing because big guy prone with elbows back is positional-asphyxia-riffic, but he was fine.) I slipped on a latex glove, lubed up the fingers, and spread his cheeks. I went slowly, just stroking around his asshole, until he started really wanting it, started making little pleading noises and tilting his ass up at me. I slipped one finger in, and with surprising ease a second, and bent them forward until I felt the small hard gland inside him. He groaned deeply.

Some time later than that, we were lying in bed under the covers with nobody tied or hurt, just side by side stroking each other's groins until I wanted more than stroking and slipped his cock into me, still on our sides and slowly gently fucking for ages. He rolled me over and fucked my ass just as slow and gentle, kissing me and holding me until he came in my ass.

And finally, when we were both completely spent, pussy and ass and cock tender, nipples sore, muscles aching and skin raw, he looked me in the eyes and said "I'm awfully glad I found you." And I went all gooshy inside.

Augh!

Date with Benny tonight. Last time he didn't enjoy that my crotch was stubbly so I endeavored to get a truly clean shave for him tonight. I overdid it. Took off half my skin and now my "bikini zone" is an unholy hell of the nastiest razor burn you ever saw.

So my question, if anyone can answer it before 4 PM Pacific time: is there anything I can do? Lotion? Ice? Heat? Benadryl? Advil? Cover it with makeup and when it inevitably gets rubbed off, scream "look what you did to me"?

Here I am trying to be all "this girl has prepared herself for your enjoyment, Sir," and it's gonna end up more "that's not an infection, I swear, I'm just a moron."


(We don't ever actually talk like that, I just think it's funny. I'd really be saying "Shaved myself for ya, dude." Because we may be sadomasochists but we are also extremely dudely.)

Toys.

I own far too many sex toys.

• A really cheap little flogger. It's stingy as hell because the tails are too small, and I'd really like a bigger one, but... it does the trick. It's meant to hurt, right? It certainly does that.

• A generic cylindrical vibrator that I don't use much. It's too skinny to be fun in my pussy, no base so I'm scared to put it in my butt, and awkwardly shaped to use on my clit.

• A bullet vibe. This is the go-to toy for a quick simple orgasm, the "no fancy crap, I just want to get to sleep" vibrator. Goes nicely on my clit and gets me off in less than five minutes. Unexciting, reliable.

• A... thingy. It's this(NWS) ugly sonofabitch, whatever the heck that is. Anyway, it's fucking amazing. It's thick and it pushes on my g-spot hard and one time Jon tied it into me and left it in for like a half hour on full blast.

• Two buttplugs. One's small and real easy but only sorta fun; one's way too damn big and takes a five-minute slightly painful project to get in but hoooly shit when it's in. I've never had the self-control to have it in and not masturbate to orgasm instantly. It feels great when I do though. I can feel my ass pulsing when I come.

(That buttplug is how I learned my orgasms were real. For the longest time I thought that my orgasms were too quick, too easy--no girl gets off in two minutes from just barely being touched, so I must just be mistaking something else for orgasm and giving up before the real good stuff. But the feeling of my ass involuntarily spasming around a buttplug is unmistakable. I really do come that much, that easily. Fucking awesome.)

• Rope. Two hundred feet, in two different thicknesses, every inch of it soft and shiny and strong and filled with endless possibilities. Everything above on this list gets me off; rope gets me on. Sex toys are arousing and all that, but only rope is fascinating. It's a skill I'm still learning, it's a way to cause pain and pleasure, it's a way to hold someone's entire body the way I want it without me lifting a finger. It's sexy to tie, it's sexy to be tied in, it's sexy just to have around. It's... I think it's safe to call it a fetish, yeah.

Anal Paradox.

Finger in butt = ugh.

Penis in butt = ooh.


I think this has discouraged a tragic number of people from trying butt play. Because if something as small as a finger is so uncomfortable, anything bigger must be worse, right? Wrong. I'm not quite sure why, but it's completely wrong. A finger up your ass feels like a really unpleasant poop; a cock up your ass feels like a tight hard fuck. Strange but true.

Cuddles.

I'm a fan of cuddles. I sometimes worry that there's something possessive or emotionally needy or demanding about asking a boy for too much cuddling, but mostly I just think it feels good. Boys are warm and firm and their willingness to touch me constitutes a kind of quiet acceptance that I don't get enough of.

Okay, so I'm a little needy. I don't spend the whole time asking "but do you really think I'm pretty?" or anything horrible like that. Mostly it's either unrelated little things from our lives or it's silent nuzzling.

I can't fall asleep cuddling. It makes me very sleepy and comfortable, but when I get to the point of actually sleeping I've always got some part of my body squished or bent back or too warm, and I have to roll over into a little Island of Solitude to get any sleep.

Cuddling with Brandon is great, but cuddling with Jon is wonderful because he's so damn big. (Tall and wide; not super fat, just large in a big square doorway-filling way. Trucker-shaped.) I can just sink into him. He puts his arms around me and I'm enveloped. I can disappear inside him.

Size.

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My Hobby:

Putting lurid sexual fantasies through Babelfish until they are awesome.

The three of us, who are in the room, take our shots, turn off the light. First, I want to kiss you. I embrace you and I your clothes. We deal in the first place. Let's chew play with him and his puncture, but we are not letting them come to him, it even closer. I shall see below, and eat her cat in the chest. We are both on your face, it is sitting on his cock.

Then it is him, and to do so in the ass to eat, while my cat. We approached the bottom, and he can win. He started me, as I expressed my fingers until their skins, as much as you can. We offer arrival.

At the end, I am going to suck the tap until it happens, because I would like to share with him about my face and chest. I would still attached, I know I can lick the entire territory.

Addicted.

I just figured out how to do LiveJournal-style cuts so I can make really long posts without drowning my front page in a Wall of Text! Very exciting! I think I'm going to kick off this new ability by taking the Sexual Addiction Screening Test. Note that sex addiction is not recognized in the DSM. Further note that online sexual addiction resources are rarely more than three clicks away from the word "Savior." I'm just saying.

The marvelously scientific and unjudgemental "SAST", with my snotty answers, is below the cut.


1. Were you sexually abused as a child or adolescent?
Nope. I was physically and mentally abused (well, we just called it "beat up and yelled at") a little here and there, but no one ever did anything to my Swimsuit Area. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person I know who can say that.

2. Did your parents have trouble with sexual behavior?
Probably, but not that I ever wanted to know about.

3. Do you often find yourself preoccupied with sexual thoughts?
Who the hell doesn't? But even by "post-pubescent human being" standards, yeah. I mean, most people don't have an entire blog devoted to their sexual thoughts.

4. Do you feel that your sexual behavior is not normal?
I don't think it's typical. (Although it may be closer than I think; I've noticed the prevalence of secret weird fetishes to be damn near 100% sometimes. Probably my only real deviance is talking about it.) But I don't think my sexual behavior is abnormal in the sense of broken, just in the sense of statistically uncommon.

5. Do you ever feel bad about your sexual behavior?
Well, sometimes. Not often, certainly not every time. But ever, yes. I also occasionally feel bad about my behavior in every other area of life, because I have feelings.

6. Has your sexual behavior ever created problems for you and your family?
Yes, I did use to be a teenager. It's not creating any big problems now though. Shouldn't an addiction test be asking about "currently" or "frequently", not "ever"?

7. Have you ever sought help for sexual behavior you did not like?
I've sought help with sexual behavior I didn't like...

8. Has anyone been hurt emotionally because of your sexual behavior?
More because I stopped sexual behavior with 'em, really.

9. Are any of your sexual activities against the law?
Fewer since Lawrence v. Texas, but I believe that consensual beatings are still considered assault. (I think the rationale is less about persecuting BDSM and more about giving abusers fewer excuses, but the end result is the same--a bruise is a bruise no matter how bad she was beggin' for it.)

Of course, this question says more about the law than it does about me; if they outlaw kissing, do you become a kissing addict?

10. Have you made efforts to quit a type of sexual activity and failed?
Nope! I've never made efforts to quit any type of sexual activity!

11. Do you hide some of your sexual behaviors from others?
It would be pretty fuckin' gross if I didn't.

12. Have you attempted to stop some parts of your sexual activity?
Nope! But is that because I'm not an addict, or is it because I'm just so deeply addicted?

13. Have you felt degraded by your sexual behaviors?
But I like it that way...

14. When you have sex, do you feel depressed afterwards?
Only if there are no cuddles. (There are usually cuddles.)

15. Do you feel controlled by your sexual desire?
Naw. Influenced by, maybe. Entertained by, certainly.

16. Have important parts of your life (such as job, family, friends, leisure activities) been neglected because you were spending too much time on sex?
No. This is the first question on this whole test that strikes me as legitimate--if you're fucking so much you don't even go to work, you probably do have some sort of problem.

17. Do you ever think your sexual desire is stronger than you are?
I don't know, we've never really opposed each other. My sexual desire says "hey, let's go get laid," and I say "good idea!"

18. Is sex almost all you think about?
No.

19. Has sex (or romantic fantasies) been a way for you to escape your problems?
Oh shit, we're including romance in here? That's a sex addiction too? Wanting to be loved? You heartless bastards!

And basically no; I've used sex as a distraction from minor worries, but not as a way to blot out the world.

20. Has sex become the most important thing in your life?
No.

21. Are you in crisis over sexual matters?
I wasn't until I started this test.

22. Has the internet has created sexual problems for you?
Only opportunities...

23. Do you spend too much time online for sexual purposes?
Define "too much"! Seriously, this quiz seems entirely devoted to determining how guilty you feel about sex, rather than how much you actually have. Try applying that standard to alcoholics--"You don't feel bad about it? Then drink up, buddy, you're fine!"

24. Have you purchased services online for erotic purposes (sites for dating, pornography, fantasy and friend finder)?
I've paid for porn a couple times. Usually regretted it. Not because of my addiction, because it sucked.

25. Have you used the internet to make romantic or erotic connections with people online?
Of course! How is that any more addicted than any other way of connecting with people?

26. Have people in my life been upset about my sexual activities online?
No, but I do use some judgement in who I tell about my sexual activities online. I mean, Mom doesn't really want to hear about it...

27. Have you attempted to stop my online sexual behaviors?
Yours? No. I don't wanna know. Sheesh.

28. Have you subscribed to or regularly purchased or rented sexually explicit materials (magazines, videos, books or online pornography)?
And this is the part of the test where I break and say fuck you, this isn't a sex addiction test, this is just a sexual activity test. Yes, I have purchased sexual materials. What the fuck does that tell you about me? I don't buy them every day! I don't spend the baby's medicine money on porn! How the fucking fuck is something like this diagnostic of an "addiction"? Would you call someone an alcoholic if they ever bought beer? Jesus Christ!

29. Have you been sexual with minors?
Not since I stopped being one myself. Gah, I can't believe a question like this has the same weight as questions about "do you ever think about sex ever, even slightly?" Because being a little sexually obsessed and molesting children are just two different points on the same continuum, aren't they? (No they fucking aren't. Pedophilia isn't a symptom of being too darn sexy, it's a totally separate kind of sick.)

30. Have you spent considerable time and money on strip clubs, adult bookstores and movie houses?
"Considerable?" But no, I haven't. They're awfully unfriendly to lone women.

31. Have you engaged prostitutes and escorts to satisfy your sexual needs?
Nope.

32. Have you spent considerable time surfing pornography online?
"Considerable?" But yes.

33. Have you used magazines, videos or online pornography even when there was considerable risk of being caught by family members who would be upset by my behavior?
Well, not in front of them. But anyway, if the people in my house don't like porn, that's their problem. If my sister hates horror movies and I watch Evil Dead II when she's not watching, am I a horror addict? Or just considerate?

34. Have you regularly purchased romantic novels or sexually explicit magazines?
Romantic novels? Am I a sex addict because of Jane Austen now? Sexy, sexy, sexy Jane Austen.

35. Have stayed in romantic relationships after they became emotionally or abusive?
Uh? But no.

36. Have you traded sex for money or gifts?
No. I've given sex to people who gave me gifts, but I'd like to think that it wasn't a direct exchange, thanks.

37. Have you maintained multiple romantic or sexual relationships at the same time?
Yep. You got some sorta problem with that?

38. After sexually acting out, do you sometimes refrain from all sex for a significant period?
Just long enough for the bleeding to stop...

39. Have you regularly engaged in sadomasochistic behavior?
Yep. You got some sorta fuckin' problem with that?

40. Do you visit sexual bath-houses, sex clubs or video/bookstores as part of your regular sexual activity?
Gosh, this question doesn't smell even slightly homophobic... and no.

41. Have you engaged in unsafe or "risky" sex even though you knew it could cause you harm?
No. Point of personal pride.

42. Have you cruised public restrooms, rest areas or parks looking for sex with strangers?
Jeez, and I thought that last one was homophobic. (Admittedly this is pretty damn ooky for any sexuality, but it's such a gay-male stereotype that it feels like it was put in specifically for them.)

43. Do you believe casual or anonymous sex has kept you from having more long-term intimate relationships?
That's actually sort of a tough question. But I've been having long-term intimate casual sex... how does that work?

44. Has your sexual behavior has put you at risk for arrest for lewd conduct or public indecency?
Well, fortunately there weren't any cops at that beach... or that parking lot... or that campus quad...

45. Have you been paid for sex?
This is the same question as #36.


So I entered all my answers (which, you notice, are "no" on most of the really bad ones) into the dumb website, and... I'm a sex addict! I should seek help immediately! Or I might never know the loving light of Our Savior.

It's all funny until I realize that some people take this crap seriously. The idea that someone could sell this "having sexual feelings is pathological" bullshit for real money, and use it to destroy real families, is sickening.

D'oh.

Not Levora. Aviane. (generic for Alesse; 0.1 mg levonorgestrol, 20 µg ethinyl estradiol). Because it wasn't actually Levora the doctor prescribed, it was Lutera, only she wrote it wrong as "Luvera," which isn't even a real drug, so the pharmacy was like "huh?" and then they ended up substituting it instead of just correcting it and then there were a whole bunch of phone calls and fuck if I know, at least this stuff appears to be birth control of some sort.

I would not be entirely surprised if upon taking this stuff, my seasonal allergies are cured and I have a baby.