Guess what kids? Today we’re going to discuss the latest trend among vampire obsessed (and possibly horny) teens and a fetish that appears to be pretty popular among pain lovin’ kinksters (over 61 000 people on fetlife.com are down with getting their kink on in this manner) – Odaxelagnia. In plain English that’s sexual arousal achieved through biting a partner or being bitten.

For the record I’m not a fan of biting – giving or receiving (yes I know, I’m a punk ass) – but it seems that our cultural obsession with vampires is making biting seem like a real sexy thing to do – even with the kids. And my peeps who are into biting point out sinking your teeth into your bed mate or having their teeth sink into your flesh, can be a huge turn on – if done correctly. With that in my mind, I’m going to go ahead and throw up some sexy biting tips I collected from some of my kinky buddies…

Enjoy!

1. Check your technique. You can nibble, do full on biting – with a whole lot of teeth, or just kick it like you’re still in high school and do the hickey thing, which (for my old timers who may not remember) involves both biting and sucking. The choice is yours. Just do what’s comfortable for you – and your mate.
2. Start easy. Always begin by nibbling and then work your way up to harder bites. This is especially important if you’re new to biting and/or you’re trying it for the first time with a new partner. This gives you both a chance to learn the level of pleasure-pain, you can tolerate during your sex play.
3. Have a Safe Word. This is especially important if the two of you are into to really painful bites (you know the kind that may break the skin and sometimes draws blood – generally not recommended, but I’m not here to judge, so go ahead and do you – SAFELY). Having a safe word will make sure you don’t send your partner reeling to new heights of un-pleasure because the pain you’re inflicting is beyond unbearable.
4. Stick to the erogenous zones. Don’t just roll up on your partner and bite his/her ear or forehead like you’re a cannibal looking for your next meal (unless of course you know for sure your mate digs that shit). From what I’ve been told, most people (even those who are really into biting) will find it super un-sexy and you don’t want to turn your kink into konk just as the games begin. So just stick to nibbling on the nape of your lover’s neck, inner thighs or nipples.
5. Keep It Quick…Unless Serious Pain Is What You’re After. If you want to keep real pain out of your biting, then make your bites short and sweet – that’s a few seconds only.  FYI: Longer bites = more pain being registered. So if inducing pain is NOT your goal, make sure your bites keep your bites quick. However, if on the other hand, you and your partner like to bring the pain, then clamping your teeth down on the same spot for a while oughta do the trick.
6. Leave the Growling and Barking to the Animals. Although your partner may love the animal in you in the bedroom, he/she probably doesn’t want you to make noises like one. Virtually every one I spoke to on the subject stressed this point, stating that – NOTHING kills the mood like growling or barking as you bite your mate.  So, people please keep the farm animal noises out of your bedrooms.
7. Never EVER Gnaw. Gnawing is apparently even more unappealing than the animal sounds. So good people, keep your bites crisp and clean (that code for keeping the slobbering to a minimum folks) to prevent your mate from feeling like your dog’s chew toy – yeah, the really old and always soggy one.
8. Pay Attention to Your Partner. Now, if you’re the one doing the biting, don’t get so caught up in what you’re doing that you fail to notice your partner’s reaction. Be sure to listen and watch while you put in work, so you know that your partner is groaning and writhing from pleasure-pain, and not the unbearable kind…unless of course causing your bed mate to suffer is your goal. In which case you need to hunker down and bite his/her whiny ass a whole lot harder. Come on, really put your teeth into it. You want to get laid don’t you?

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And there you have it folks – my eight tips to get your bite on in the boudoir.

Until next time happy biting and as always…

Play safe.

Those of you who’ve been coming around for a while may remember that week three of Fringe Month 1, was a veritable hodge podge of kink. That week we gave you all a glimpse into our preferences, tastes and curiosity about various fetishes…

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Our man about town, Sam Sharpe, kicked things off right by sharing the fact that during the folly of his youth he failed to oblige two of his past lovers, resulting in some very regrettable Missed Opportunities.

Then he followed up with a post warning us all about the perils of a bout of role playing gone wrong in Don’t Get Burned (both literally and figuratively).

In Why Knot? I broke down the do’s and dont’s, the hows, the whys and the wherefores of bondage.

Next, Elizabeth, our lovely English rose, confessed her love of The Delicate Art of Spanking – both giving and receiving. Unfortunately, to date I don’t believe she’s had any luck finding a man who’s willing to receive. What gives boys? You afraid of a little paddling?

Choosing to stand in solidarity with my sister from another mister, in my post Eureka! I’m a Spanko I too declared my love of spanking, before going on to highlight the physiological reason why a little paddling can lead to a whole lot of pleasure in the boudoir (YUMMY!).

And to close out the week, Elizabeth Rose hit you all with Fantastic Fantasies, in which she urged you all to explore, express and do your utmost to fulfill your deepest and darkest desires.

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So, don’t waste another minute. Hurry up and (re)read these posts. Then get busy role-playing, spanking, hog-tying and fulfilling those fantasies.

Play Safe and Stay Kinky,

S

When Skye recently came to me and asked if I’d be interested in writing on breath play my immediate response was yes. And not just a regular yes. But a yes with enthusiasm and gusto. A ‘Hell Yes!’ if you will. And I know what you’re thinking. Is SSD an erotic asphyxiation aficionado? Well, not quite kids.

My enthusiasm stems less from a knowledgeable, expertise, (what’s the opposite of vanilla) standpoint than it does from a recent awesome experience. A recent awesome experience that taught me about how and why I like those man hands around my neck.  But I should tell you now. I’m only barely out of vanilla territory. Actually I’m still possibly in vanilla territory but maybe with some sprinkles or something.

Breath is very important. It keeps you alive, that much is obvious. Take a breath. A breath of fresh air. I can’t catch my breath. Under your breath. Your breath is on fire. I just want to breathe him in. A gasp. A sigh. Hot and heavy. Slow and steady. Breathing is everywhere. It’s generally how I indicate to a fella that I’m having a good time if ya know what I mean. So it seems to follow then that as a woman who likes to give up control in the bedroom…I might want to let someone else take control of one of my most important bodily functions.

When I was in my early twenties, I had a friend. And you could say we were partners in crime. Our “crimes” generally consisted of boys and shenanigans. So clearly story swaps and technique talks were a regular occurrence. During one of our many booty banter sessions. She told me the following.

“Yeah ya know…like…I just whip off the pillowcase and throw it around my neck…and he just kind of holds it…like reigns…while he hits it from the back.”

I thought this to be very interesting. And not one to shy away from something new.  I gave it a shot. Honestly, it didn’t do that much for me. At the time I didn’t really get it.  Later I’d start to understand that everybody needs something different and while the decrease in oxygen may have been enough for her. I required more. I require a story. A fantasy. A reason for the lack of flowing breath into my lungs. A reason for the tension around my neck.

Now before you start picturing me in one of those Law and Order scenes (I may watch too much TV) with extreme asphyxia gone awry. I assure you. I’m still far more of a novice at the sport and my participation is way less dangerous. See for me. It’s more mentally kinky. Than physically. Which, anyone who reads my blog and knows my keen appreciation for science and logic, will know is just about right. Spot on really. Because for me. It’s the why more than the how that’s important.

Now I’m not really going to get into the why (me personally) of the why (the fantasy) that this gets some of us ladies off (and a warning for all you gentlemen out there, because the line is so fragile and not all women even want you anywhere near it, you better ask your lady what she wants before you get your hands all around her neck). But I will just say this. For me. The story line. Is only a fantasy. It’s only fun and hot as long as it remains a fantasy. If you tried to dominate me in everyday life per say, I’d likely tell you to fuck off or simply kick you in the nuts. But in the bedroom. When I’m ready for you to put your hands on me. I want to be dominated. I want to be manhandled. I want to be tossed about. I want to be viewed as so hot that you simply cannot control yourself and must take it all from me. And most importantly (as is the topic of this post). I want it rough. I want your big strong hands around my neck. And I certainly don’t want to have to ask you to do it (that kind of ruins it). I want you controlling my breath (in fantasy). I want you in control completely.

So I say one more time. Before you choke her….talk it out. Because it’s all fun and games until it’s not fun and games. And while Cindy wants a Chokehold, Melanie-Lee may just want to Make-Love. So you better find that shit out first. And even once you’re there. I suggest you take it a little slow and steady at first. Because nothing turns kink into konk (aka FAIL) faster than a bad experience.

This week it’s all about Breath Play, and I’m here to start things off by telling you a bit about Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation or AEA…

So What is AEA exactly?

Well dear readers, AEA is:

1. The practice of cutting off the blood supply to the brain through self-applied suffocation methods while masturbating.
2. A fetish that is considered to be one of the greatest and most dangerous sexual taboos, primarily because it is practiced alone and is usually a carefully guarded secret.
3. A highly addictive method of masturbation that induces a lucid, semi-hallucinogenic state called cerebral hypoxia. Combined with orgasm, the rush is said to be as powerful (if not more so) than taking a hit of cocaine.

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The Physiology of AEA:

Both the carotid artery, which carries blood to the brain and the jugular vein which carries blood back to the heart pass through your neck. When these vessels are constricted carbon dioxide builds up in the brain, and creating a narcotic effect. Combining that effect with an orgasm may trigger the release of dopamine, which in turn intensifies the feeling of euphoria.

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Although AEA only pops up in the news when a celebrity dies as a result of what is usually reported as a suicide or ‘solo sex game gone wrong’ – as was the case for Micheal Hutchence, David Carradine and Kristian Digby – AEA is a much more common method of masturbation than most might think. According the FBI’s estimates, this fetish, which has been around since ancient times (there is evidence that the practice was known to ancient Mayans in Mexico), is responsible for 500-1000 deaths/year (mostly men, though women also perform AEA) in the US alone. Some experts believe these estimates are quite conservative because many AEA deaths are labeled as homicides or suicides by police and family members, to conceal the ‘unsavoury’ truth.

AEA is usually discovered as a method of masturbation when young adults start experimenting on their own. Many who stumble upon the practice, which eventually becomes a fetish, after becoming familiar with the thrill of the high of dizziness created by playing the choking game or similar activities. The problem is that the intense highs reached when performing AEA are so addictive that individuals, who choose to masturbate this way, are at risk of falling into a pattern of chasing the heightened the orgasmic experience (much like a junkie seeking out his/her next hit), as well as the psychological thrill they get from performing such a dangerous activity. Often, in order to reach increasingly intense orgasms, the risk level of their activities will escalate; which also increases the possibility for fatal accidents.

And even for the lucky ones who don’t die, depending on how long their bodies are deprived of oxygen, brain damage could still occur. Persons participating in AEA also risk lacerating, cutting, or bruising their necks, depending on the suffocation or strangulation techniques used. The more common ways of carrying out the practice are self-hanging, strangulation, choking, suffocation and other techniques that restrict breathing. Notably, self-hanging is usually the method observed among fatal cases.

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If after reading all of the above you’re still one of the seemingly growing number of people interested in experiencing the orgasmic highs achieved through AEA, I’d like to suggest (since I firmly believe that there is no orgasm so good that it’s worth risking death for – but I’m also extremely risk averse, so what do I know?) that you start by trying safer options like trying tantric breathing and gas masks and/or choosing to engage in gentle breath play with a partner (one who knows what he or she is doing!) first.

And if you’re looking for like minded folk to connect with or for information from people in the know about AEA, choking or any other type of breath play and you don’t know where to look, here’s a tip. Check out fetlife.com, sign up and then join one of the discussion groups (they’re literally hundreds of discussions on virtually every type of kink under the sun) on the fetish of your choice.

Until next time…

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Breathe and Play Safe!

Yesterday, in Part 1 I wrapped things up by suggesting that you have your man insert his dang-doodle in your pooper and then hold it real still until your body relaxes, before going full steam ahead for some hot anal action. Today, I’m going to pick up where we left off and suggest that you take a long hard look at what’s going on in your head before you start the ass-nastics…

3. Check Your Attitude

The two biggest questions you need to ask yourself, Vanilla Girl, are:

1. Do I really want to do this?
2. What are my hangups?

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My first time having butt secks was not so much against my wishes, but it wasn’t something I was planning. I was eighteen or nineteen and dating an older man (because that’s just what you DO when you’re a stupid teenager living out of your mother’s house) and he was pressuring me to do it, although I didn’t really think I was ready. So, rather than wait until I was ready, he just STUCK IT IN THERE while we were having sex one night.

Lawd have mercy, I’ve had a child. At home, on purpose, without pain medication, naturally. I feel like I have a really high threshold for pain but when that happened, I felt like my body was turning itself inside out, black-hole style. I was sore for days. Even pooping was difficult and I would sit on the toilet for the next week in a cold sweat and nearly crying just to make it happen.

I hated that guy. Naturally, I broke up with him shortly thereafter. Even stupid teenager Jami had to draw the line somewhere and unexpected company in my bootay was where the line was back then.

In a healthy sexual relationship, you talk about things you want to try and it’s an open forum for discussion. If he’s expressed interest in going there, and you’re open to try it, then hold hands and walk down that path together. If you’re totally grossed out by the idea, go back and read my first tip. If you’re unsure of how it works, see the second tip. Open your mind and your heart up to the possibility of lovin’ in the tushy.

Duh Lesson: Is your boyfriend pressuring you to do it? Do you feel like he’s manipulating you? Have the words, “If you loved me…” come up in conversation? If so, move on. You don’t need to be with a man who wants to perform any sort of sex act on you for his own pleasure in spite of your discomfort.

Check Your Head Tip: Only do what you’re comfortable doing and RELAX. I swear to God, if you’re up on all fours, perched on your toes and claws, your sphincter is going to be as hard to get into as a child proof medicine bottle. Focus on relaxing your whole body, tip to toe and if it hurts, say so. Have him pull out and continue playing with you. Or if you need him to, tell him to stop altogether. Need more lube? Speak up. It’s your ass on your terms, honey.

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4. Positions That Work

I don’t want you to read this article and get all clammy and weird like we’ve been transported back to junior high school with those horrible sex education videos. Sex is fun! Butt secks does require a bit more education than vaginal sex, but once you get the basics down, it’ll become second nature. Like riding a bike, only… the bike is his dick and, in the beginning, you’re probably going to be getting ridden more than you’re riding – but whatever. You get the analogy.

So, let’s take the education out of this position and talk about the fun stuff! RECESS!

Positions, just like anything else, will be something you have to explore and figure out for yourself, but to start out, you want to find a position where you can hold yourself still and totally relax your body. For me, I prefer on my stomach with my knees pulled up and together, almost like the child’s pose on yoga. Kink it up a bit by putting your arms to your side and having your partner hold your arms and use them for leverage. In this position, I find that things are um, easy to find… And you know, sort of on display and my entire body can relax and sink into the bed.

In my experience, this is the easiest position to get things calibrated. Once you have created space for play, you can switch up the positions to your heart’s content. If your partner is nicely endowed, you can lay down in a sweet and romantic spooning position and let him enter you from behind. If you’re feeling adventurous, flip on your back and throw your legs up over his shoulders. Get crazy with it – be creative and be willing to try lots of different positions.

Duh Lesson: If it hurts, stop. The only time I ever experience a very subtle bit of pain is upon insertion, and that’s only when we haven’t used enough lube. When it happens, just relube and try again. Your partner must be someone you respect because really, he’s going to determine how fast, hard and painful it’s going to be or how slow, gentle and pleasurable it’s going to be. If you don’t trust your partner, it’s not going to work. When you’re in full-on fucking mode, if something hurts, stop. Just say, “STOP!” Shit, if you’ve got a damn Charlie Horse in your thigh, stop. Who can properly orgasm with a leg cramp??

I know I didn’t talk about toys. And I didn’t talk about anal douching (I don’t – never have). I think I’ve covered the basics and it’s up to you to explore the rest with your lover. I also didn’t talk about why I love butt secks, but I suppose that’s a secret that’s especially guarded for the proud few who get to go there with me, right?

I was super excited when Skye asked me if I’d be interested in guest posting here. Then she said that July was “Fringe Month Two”. Listen, I’m so far away from fringe that I didn’t even know what it was. I’m thinking, “Like saddles and whips fringe? For a whole month? I think you’ll run out of things to talk about.” Then she explained that by fringe she meantkink. And at the sound of the word, my green eyes popped open so wide you could see the white on the top and bottom of my iris. Uhhm… Kinky? I may be foul-mouthed and sex-forward and maybe something of a slut but, me? Kinky? Hardly.

I’ve never been tied up. I’ve never worn leather on anything other than my feet or a jacket. The only time I’ve worn a mask has been on Halloween and that is only because I’m short enough that, when wearing a mask, I can get away with Trick or Treating (don’t judge me!).

Then it dawned on me: I love butt secks. And, according to the majority of my female friends, that’s pretty damned kinky.

Now, don’t worry your pretty little head, Vanilla Girl. Contrary to what you might think, anal sex is not a gateway drug to genital piercing or sticking electrodes up your boy toy’s wang. I pinky swear. With the right attitude, partner and lube you too can stand proudly with your hands on your hips and your beautiful boobies erect and say…

“I’m a Vanilla Girl and I love butt secks.”

Now, brace yourselves. We’re going to talk about poop. And your ass. And it might a little uncomfortable. I promise to go slow. That’s what she said.

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1. First things first – Get over your fear of poop.

Yes, it’s your poop shooter. Yes, poop is stinky and gross to you, Vanilla Girl. No, the last thing you want is for your first time to result in your man’s dick looking like a brown cow and you crying hysterically from embarrassment. But guess what? Shit happens. Chances are if your man really wants to make his love-stick disappear into your sweet cheeks, he realizes that shit happens, too.

I’ve been a connoisseur of butt secks for about a decade and I can list only two incidences that occurred with partners where poop appeared. And, looking back, they’re some of my most hilarious and memorable sexual experiences ever. Embarrassing? Sure. A big deal? Nope.

Here’s your Duh Lesson: You colon holds your poop until you expel it. A healthy colon will send your poops packing and be pretty much clear on the inside. When you’re not eating healthy, your poop will stick to the walls and cause peanut butter or playdough factory poops. You want the kind that are “invisible” meaning, when you wipe, there’s little to nothing on the paper.

Fear of Shit Tip: Eat healthy. Get regular. And know that if you’re wiping and you’ve got peanut butter smear, it’s probably best to wait a day and eat some leafy greens before you attempt to go there. In my experience, a good poop a few hours before you wanna make a go at it will clear your shitter from um, shit.

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2. Choose Your Lube Wisely

I’ve tried lots of different kinds of lubes and your preferences will likely change over time and under new partners. God, I remember when I first started experimenting with butt secks with my friend Alex. I was eighteen and he was just as inexperienced as me and we used VASELINE! Miiiiistake! Seriously, live and learn. Or read this and learn from me.

Thankfully, the makers of everything slippery have caught up with the masses and there are literally dozens of lubes you can try. My personal favorite is AstroGlide. From their website,

“Astroglide’s unique formula is water-based, water-soluble and designed to mimic the body’s natural fluids. Astroglide makes condom use more enjoyable and makes safer sex a reality.”

What this translates to is this: When the lube starts to dry out you can spit on it and it will reactivate. (Plus, that’s also kind of hot and kinky, right? Live a little, you dirty girl!) And, when you’re done, a quick shower will get your body squeaky clean. I also appreciate that Astroglide is manufactured in an FDA approved facility by a medical products manufacturer and not by some guy with a hairy chest in his basement with a perpetual porn track in the background. That said my fave-gay said to me, “But lord have mercy, woman, why would you recommend astroglide?” So, try different brands until you find the one you love. It’s like the Pepsi Challenge, but with lots of slippery sexy.

And if you’re too embarrassed to buy your lube at the drug store you can order it online almost anywhere, including Drugstore.com. If you choose to hit your local lube retailer make it fun. Tell your boyfriend that you need to pop into the drug store after your date and then lead him by hand to go pick out the lube you want.

Duh Lesson: You don’t shoot lube up your partner’s butt. I remember reading a Tucker Max entry once and wanting to pick up my monitor and throw it across the room because he detailed how he shoved the top of the lube bottle up a girl’s butt and squirted like four ounces into her rectum. Dip shit. No. A little on you, a little on his member and the two go together like slip’n’slide.

Fear of Insertion Tip: Play with your butt a little, man. Have your partner play with your butt, too. This doesn’t even mean insertion right away. Touching, rubbing and pressure on your sphincter feels great and gets your body used to the sensation. There are so many untouched nerve endings there, my friend, that exploring with anal sex doesn’t have to mean penetration if you don’t want it yet. It could just be exploring with the tip of his finger or your finger for a long time. Don’t rush yourself. And keep his and your nails in check. While the ladies in porn will push two inch neon green fingernails into their bum-bums (not very sanitary or respectable, if you ask me), you don’t want cuts on your sphincter, man.

Also, a little biology lesson for you guys: There are two sphincter muscles at play here, the outer is controllable and great for um, pinching things off. The inner sphincter, however, is involuntary and located 4-6” inside your winker and will warm up and relax after a minute of dang-doodle in your pooper. He should just hold it really still while your body relaxes. Once you’ve created the space in there, it’s full steam ahead!

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Be sure to come back tomorrow when I’ll be offering up more tips for extra hot butt secks  in Part 2 of this post.

The idea that women are too emotional is not an uncommon one. I’m sure that all of you have heard it and that you know how the story goes. Essentially anything that happens to a woman makes her cry simply because she is female (aka a super emotional being that tears up at the drop of a hat).

Women cry when they see a sad commercial or movie. Or even when their bosses yell at them – at which point they’ll run frantically to the elevator and press the button 152 times to make sure they get in before anyone sees them crying. Here’s the thing though. That stuff only happens in movies, which means it’s really just for entertainment (and dramatic) purposes. Obviously there are times when that stuff happens in real life and we women do get emotional about things – but we’re human after all, right?

In sharp contrast to the notion that women are too emotional is the widely held view that men should be the tougher sex: one that should never exhibit certain behaviors. Obviously crying and/or being overtly emotional are definitely on that list. Think about it. When a little boy cries how many times have you heard someone say he should suck it up and stop being a sissy? Is it really possible for him to just wake up as a 30-year-old man and suddenly think it’s perfectly fine for him to cry? I think not. (Side note – I’m not a fan of the idea that boys shouldn’t cry either but that is a whole other blog.)

In my opinion the idea that women are more emotional is a load of crap for two reasons. First women are not emotional based solely on their biology but rather because there are things that we get emotional about. Second men are just as emotional as women, it’s just that women show it more.

I really hate to burst anyone’s bubble (and I’m not going to get stuck on that whole elevator thing), but I can honestly tell you that I have never rushed into an elevator so someone wouldn’t see me cry. And I don’t think I know any woman who has. Besides, is the elevator really a safe option? It will eventually stop at a floor, right? I also can’t remember a single time that I have ever had to fight back tears when I’ve seen  a Hallmark commercial, an injured puppy,  a cute baby, or even while watching Lifetime (but I don’t even get that channel).

Honestly, I have to confess something here – I really can only recall crying one time over the past year. And trust me that’s not because life has been utterly perfect. Plenty of bad things have happened (and I have seen more than a few Hallmark commercials, babies and sad things), but it’s just that nothing tear inducing has transpired in a long while. I am pretty sure if women were as crazy emotional as most people assume, I would have felt the need to cry more than once in the last twelve months, right? Although I am willing to entertain the idea that the lack of tear-filled moments in my life makes me a freak of nature (or just a cold hearted bitch), I think it’s really just because I only cry when something truly makes me sad.

So yes, sometimes I cry and get crazy emotional about things. And yes, I am a woman. These are two things that I openly admit. However, I don’t think one has anything to do with the other. I have emotion because I am human and I cry because I have passion.

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Jessica Downey is a witty single woman who lives in Chicago. She writes about dating and single life and is the author of a blog called All The Single Ladies on ChicagoNow.com.

I’ve been trying to write this piece for a couple of weeks now. I’ve asked friends, family, andthe man-friend. I’ve consulted Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell…even Dan Savage and what I’ve come up with is this…
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Women ARE emotional.
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But guess what? Being emotional is NOT the terrible thing it is made out to be. The problem isn’t that woman are too emotional, it’s that people associate having emotions with weakness. However, emotions are not a sign of weakness; in fact they are completely the opposite they make us stronger. Imagine for a second what it’s like to be a guy, what it’s like to have to hide your emotions because if your dudes saw you crying they’d assume you were less of a man. Unless of course you were all crying after a big game…that kind of crying is cool.

There is something special about the relationship between two women. It’s a sisterhood that no man can ever really understand. We know each others secrets, we cry together, we laugh together and we love together – all without fear of retribution. Sometimes I even wonder if men are jealous of our bonds, of our connections. I wonder if they ever think about what it would be like to live without fearing their emotions.

Before you get excited by my Spice Girl-esque girl power schpeal keep reading; there is another side to this coin. While I’m happy to say that as a woman I can feel freely, that most people will just accept it as part of my innate femininity; I am also frustrated by my inability to separate myself from those very same emotions. Girls you know what I’m talking about. When the man-friend says something we don’t like, we tend to try and read more into the words that he is saying than is actually there. We search for emotions behind the words, even if it isn’t there. Usually he is saying exactly what he’s thinking and we spend so much time trying to decode words that don’t need decoding that we end up fighting over nothing.

Recently I found myself doing exactly that – putting meaning into words that were so very clear and honest that I assumed they had to have some big and deeply hidden emotion behind them. I ran through past relationships, books and Sex & The City quotes in my head, thinking, “He’s just not that into you” in a situation where I had no right to be thinking anything aside from, “Isn’t it awesome that there’s a dude in my life who wants to be totally straight with me.” I let my emotions and my history take over and I made him feel guilty for being honest with me. Right move? No. Chick move? I’m ashamed to say…yes.

But how do you find a middle ground? How do you embrace your emotions without assuming every sentence uttered by his pouty just shy of perfect lips is fraught with the same kind of emotion we throw behind our own words? You can try to…

Remember that not everything has a double meaning.

Remember that he is capable of the same kind of intense mind shattering feelings that you are.

Remember that when he’s feeling something he’ll tell you (and trust me you won’t have to decode a word).

Remember that unless you have a very CLEAR and REAL reason to believe otherwise, you should 1) ALWAYS assume that your man-friend is being straight with you, and 2) AVOID geting mad about things that were unsaid – because if he’s not saying it, you’re probably the only one thinking it.

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And ladies, the next time you feel something intense, wonderful, sad, terrible or lovely – just go with it. The boys aren’t watching and even if they are, they’ll likely chalk it all up to your girlishness. Too bad for them they don’t know how awesome it is to be a girl.

Way back in February I went out to brunch with Max and Sam, and as always happens when we get together the topic of conversation ended up being primarily about sex.  Well, on this particular day the focus of our discussion was the lack of action in my life.

‘You need to get horizontal with someone soon. I mean how long has it since you got some? ’ Sam asked, after I lamented the fact that my field hadn’t been ploughed in a long time.

Max seconded his opinion, stating, ‘You’ve got needs girl, just find a man who wants to help you take care of them.’

While the discussion ensued I didn’t let on that they were making me think long and hard about all that I was missing, or that all the sex talk had my now percolating coochy telling me,

‘Girl, hurry up and find us some dick.  The tumbleweeds blowin’ up in here are killing me.’

But as we left the restaurant that day I knew something had to give.

Luckily, I am nothing if not efficient. Within 24 hours of parting ways with  Mr. Sharpe and Ms. Max I had found a perfect candidate to practice with – enter Afternoon Delight. Now, Afternoon Delight lived a few blocks away from me; didn’t move in my social circle; was self-employed and had a flexible schedule (meaning he had time to fuck during the day – hence the moniker); wasn’t somebody I would ever want to date (for a host of reasons I won’t get into here), but was attractive for me to get down with; and was totally into doing me (I knew this because of a full court press he had run on me a few months prior). So when I called him that same night and asked, “Is the offer you made a few months ago still on the table?”, Afternoon Delight quickly pinned me down to a ‘meeting’ two days later.

Now people, when Afternoon Delight and I finally ‘connected’ it was beyond sublime.  We enjoyed ourselves so much the first time, we ended up hooking up five more times that week, once twice in the same day. Afternoon Delight laid pipe like nobody’s business and I was happy to be his for the taking.

As a direct result of my midday romps with him, I had sex on the brain all the time over the following weeks and I blew up his phone daily with texts asking when we could hook up again. Generally, unless work obligations didn’t permit Afternoon Delight always accomodated me. People, I had my very own dial-a-dick. I was  living the mutha f’in dream.

For a while there things were going real good. My coochy was singing my praises and Afternoon Delight was positively ecstatic every time we got together. But as we all know, all good things come to an end. And the end came for us one night after he turned me out in grand style.

I don’t know what it was about how we connected the last time we were together, but the shit was so good I got positively stupid.  In the middle of what was an extraordinarily fantastic diddle ( my coochy was stompin’, shoutin’ and AMEN-ing like she was in church) I started envisioning my future with Afternoon Delight. I saw our wedding on a beach under a clear blue Caribbean sky, our beautiful sepia babies taking their first steps and a house with a white picket fence to boot. That’s right folks, Afternoon Delight, the man whom I had specifically chosen because I knew I’d NEVER want him for anything other than his dick, put it on me so good that I started dreaming about settling down with him.

What. The. Fuck?

Needless to say I was shook. Within minutes of our final and very mutual happy ending, I was out the door and on my way home.  Once I was safely inside my apartment I sat down on my couch to process what I was feeling.  “Do you actually REALLY like and want to be with Afternoon Delight?” I asked myself. The answer, a resounding NO, came swiftly. So what was my mid-sex reverie about?  Well, as far as I can tell, all the other-worldly stroking Afternoon Delight put on me that afternoon brought up my long suppressed instincts to nest and multiply (who knew?).

Thankfully, once I made that connection my sanity kicked back in and started shouting,

“SKYE, BACK AWAY FROM THAT COCK! ABORT MISSION! BACK AWAY FROM THAT COCK!!”

and then quickly propelled me into action.  Before I knew it I was off my couch and at my desk firing off a Dear John email to Afternoon Delight that read something like this…

Afternoon Delight,

As much as I’ve enjoyed each and every one of our mid-day sex sessions and I know that my coochy is going to kick my ass for doing this, I have to call it quits.  While you were putting it on me this afternoon I was picturing our wedding day and hearing the first cries of our newborn child – ridiculous, I know! As the visions that were swirling through my brain as we communed today are not what either of us signed up for when we agreed to ‘practice’ together, I think it’s best that from here on out I keep my sweet-dick-induced brand of crazy away from you.

I hope you understand,

Skye

His response came through later that evening…

Skye,

As much as I’m going to miss ‘practicing’ with you (still can’t believe we had sex almost every day for the last month) I appreciate the fact that you recognize your limits and that you’re pulling out before things get messy.

Hoping we’ll catch up again in the future,

Afternoon Delight

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Hoping indeed. People, as much as I’d love to ride his cosmic cock again (all praises due to his magic stick) there’s not a chance in hell that I’ll ever go there again with that man. This clear-thinking chick has officially learned her lesson about the powers of good pipe layin’.  As Sam alluded to in Monday’s post, just a few good down strokes from the right cocksman – even if you’ve decided he’s not boyfriend/husband material – can turn virtually any woman (even a sane one) into a rock-coveting-baby-crazed-wannabe-nester. And I’m so not going out like that.

You heard it here first folks. Skye Blue, will NEVER EVER allow herself to descend into the depths of madness for some extra good wood and a smile. I pride myself on knowing my limits and knowing when to back away from a (super) cock.

Fact.

Ah women and the truth…it’s a relationship more fraught than the Capulets and the Montagues, the Jets and the Sharks, the Crips and the Bloods. Not that we gals will admit it of course. See we like to delude ourselves by proclaiming that honesty is one of the most important characteristics a man can have while leaving out the huge caveat:

“…as long as it doesn’t hurt my feelings”.

Did you get that? Let me say it again: we want you to tell us the truth but we don’t want you to hurt our feelings.

If you’re asking yourself “how the f*ck am I supposed to do that?” you’re not alone. Most men never master this trick and instead opt for bold-faced lying in response to difficult questions. And women, trained as we are in the art of sniffing out falsehoods, invariably catch you. Which leads to arguments and withholding of sex, which is no fun for anyone.  Luckily for you, I – the perfect hybrid of woman and man – have devised a foolproof  solution to this issue.

Now I know my friend Sam Sharpe gave you the rundown of how he avoids the bold-faced lie and instead answers common relationship questions with unbridled honesty, but I don’t advise that course of action for the faint of heart. Not only does complete honesty require a strong constitution to deal with all the fall-out, but you also have to be able to spot a swindle disguised as an innocent question. So for my men out there who are not named after super-heroes, here is your cheat sheet for avoiding these common relationship minefields:

1. How do I look?
Most of the time when your woman asks you a question about her looks, it’s a trap. She’s looking for a gas-up, not an honest answer. So if your woman walks into a room after an hour of prep-work and asks you how she looks, your answer can only be this: “great”.

And I can hear your little puss brains buzzing right now with your buts…

But what if she really doesn’t look good in what she has on?
But what if there’s something else I would prefer her to wear?
But what if what she’s wearing is not appropriate?

Yeah in all these scenarios your answer is still “great”.

If you really want her to change her clothes, try reverse psychologizing her. Say something like “no baby that looks great. No really. At first I was thinking you should wear that black thing but this is a million times better. For real”. Then leave the room and start watching highlights. She’ll be out in 0.02 seconds wearing that black thing and you’ve avoided an argument.

2. Where is this relationship going?

Another one where she’s looking for something other than the truth. In this case, it’s reassurance she’s after, so rather than giving her the truth raw dog i.e. “nowhere”, “the bedroom”, “I never thought about it” or “I’m using you to get over my ex”, try a little evasion.  A line like “I’m enjoying spending time with you and want to see what happens” covers up a multitude of sins and saves you from a big long conversation about your relationship.

3. Which one of my friends would you f*ck?

If you answer this question truthfully I will hunt you down like a dog and kill you. What she’s really asking you here is which of her friends it’s not safe to leave you alone with and I promise you – if you give her the idea that you’ve even remotely considered slamming one of her friends you will never hear the end of it.

The correct answer here is something evasive like “Hmm…I never really thought about it, but probably none of them. They’re not really my type”. Then for God’s sake start kissing on her or something to distract her before she can call you on the ridiculousness of your statement.

4. Did you f*ck her?

This is a tricky one because she could be looking for reassurance, but more than likely she is setting a trap for you. If you slammed the girl in question, you have two choices: evade – which is tricky and unlikely to work – or deny. As my buddy Dr. Jay says, Deny, deny, deny…at least until you’ve ascertained what her motivation is for asking the question. Remember that if you start out with a lie you can always come back with the truth, but if you open with the truth you’ve got nowhere to go.

Oh and of course if by some chance your answer is no, you’re golden. Go ahead and tell her the truth.

5. How often do you jerk off/watch porn?

Now you’re probably thinking, but Max why do I have to lie about this? What’s the big deal? But it’s a tricky one. For some women this won’t be an issue at all  – I personally don’t rate a man who doesn’t watch porn and/or masturbate on a regular – but if your girl is asking the question, the wrong answer will be a big deal. Telling your girl that you jerk off daily or watch porn hourly is more than likely going to result in her thinking you’re not satisfied by her. Which will then lead to her becoming self-conscious in bed. Which will decrease the quality and frequency of sex. So do yourself a big favour and try some creative accounting: take your number, subtract 7, and divide it in half.

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There you go guys. Memorize these answers and you will never be caught off-guard by your woman’s tongue-lashing with nothing to say for yourself but “I thought you wanted my honest answer?!?”

Trust me, you’ll be thanking me later.