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

I awaken to touch, and then confusion.

I feel the ghost of a caress on my neck and my breath catchs in my throat.

My eyes are still closed, and in the darkness I reach out to you.

My hand finds the arm of my chair. My eyes open.

I feel your touch again, and my body sinks into it.

My shoulder pressing firmly against the chair.

I look over, you are not you. You are a stranger sleeping next to me on the plane.

Your touch is not your touch; it is the hot breath of the form sleeping next to me.

Disappointed, I close my eyes to sleep again.

But the caress continues.

I feel the lightest touch against my throat from this stranger’s breath.

My pulse quickens.

I lean my body in towards the stranger.

His breath plays across my exposed flesh.

I feel goose bumps form across the bare skin of my chest.

With my eyes closed – each of his breaths are your fingertips, tracing from my ear lobe towards the swell of my breasts.

I feel my nipples harden.

I lift my hand to trace the line of your touch.

And as if I was physically struck, suddenly I miss you.

I remember our last night together, and wonder why am I flying away from you.

My hand hovers over my heart while the breath of the stranger dances over my skin.

The memory of you fills my senses.

I.

Miss.

Your.

Cock.

With a sideward glance I check to make sure stranger is still sleeping.

I undo the top two buttons of my blouse.

I turn away from the aisle and towards the sleeping stranger.

As his breath sweeps across my chest, I manoeuvre my hand  beneath my blouse to gently cup my breast, freeing it from the lace of my bra.

The stranger’s breath now rushes over my erect nipple.

I check again.

The stranger sleeps and my flesh is hidden from other passengers.

I slide my hand under the fabric of the aeroplane blanket.

I am surprised to feel the wetness between my legs.

I close my eyes.

I let visions you fill my mind.

The stranger’s breath is your mouth, my hand is your hand.

The stranger’s breath is your hand, my hand is your hand.

The stranger’s breath is your hand, my hand is your mouth.

I.

Miss.

Your.

Cock.

My fingers are not yours, but they play out the same path.

I arch my back as the sensation builds.

I am lost in the moment.

I am lost in you.

Your hand joins mine.

Your fingers take over. Reaching deeper, rubbing faster.

I gasp, but the sound is lost as your lips cover mine.

Your kiss lifts me, and as you move your mouth to my exposed nipple, I bite my lip to stifle my moan.

I lift my hips to your hand to take you deeper, to take all of you.

I.

Miss.

Your.

Cock.

Your teeth draw out my nipple; your other hand massages my breast exquisitely.

My breath stops.

I crest, deliciously, marvellously, exhilaratingly; I crest and ride a wave of you.

As I reach the shallows of you, I exhale.

Your hand slows and stills.

Your mouth leaves my chest, and you rearrange my bra and blouse to cover me.

I sigh into your mouth as you gently kiss me good night.

Without opening my eyes, I draw up the blanket, and turn away from the stranger.

My body is spent, and begging for rest.

“Sweet dreams” a voice says in my ear that is not yours.

I feel the stranger shift in his seat and lean back into his chair.

I close my eyes and smile.

I sleep and I dream of you.

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!

JFB posed an interesting question to me, both in the comment section of my last post here and in private:

“…I would like to see some specifics as to why this is enjoyable for women… Will this be covered in the next part of the series?”

It took me a couple of days to sort through what direction I wanted to go in with this essay… Do I poll groups of women to find out why they like butt secks? Do I dig out the books and pile this article full of statistics and research? Do I talk about my personal preferences?

I’ll start with this video clip:

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And now, picture me with a stupid grin on my face, eyes bright and wide, nodding my head up and down,

“Yes. Yes. I would allow that to be done to me. And YES, old broad, it’s normal.”

Then imagine me assuming the position, either with my clothes on in order to get a laugh out of the crowd or with my girly bits al fresco to, well…have some butt secks.

I think it’s impossible to really outline why people like butt secks – it’s totally subjective! Popular reasons, according to Ask Men, women love anal sex because it feels good and because it’s naughty. The article, while not a bad read, bothered me because only offered up two reasons why a woman would be into butt secks. I mean sure, the nerve endings all piled up in my bum light up with electricity and send waves of pleasure through my body in an entirely different language. Yep, I really enjoy that “full” feeling, particularly when I’m manually stimulated, or (gasp!) penetrated vaginally at the same time. But I feel like these physical manifestations are not doing butt secks justice! It would be like saying, “I like kissing because of the way it feels on my lips and tongue.” What about the feelings you get? The butterflies and flippy-sensation in your stomach when you’re in serious lip-lock with your lover? Those things count just as much. The same thing applies to butt secks for me. It’s about way more than just the act. And it’s not that it’s kinky. It really isn’t about it being naughty for me. I mean, I’m writing a column about why I like butt secks… I think that sort of takes the whole naughty-factor out of the equation, right?

No, for me, it’s about submission. I really had to dig deep for the answers here and I really wasn’t comfortable with them once I sorted through them. Me? Submissive? But I’m the least submissive person you’ll ever meet! I’m never going to wear a ball gag. I’m never going to answer to a Master. This is not the kind of submission that I enjoy. For me, it’s about being so intimately close to another person that I trust them to do with me what they will…to let go of the control, even if I don’t give it up entirely.

My friend Mandy taught me a phrase earlier this year: topping from the bottom. Basically, this means you are a submissive person, but still bossy and controlling in bed. With some discussion, we decided this was the best term to describe me.

In some ways, I think of my pussy as my property but there is this shared-ownership situation between my lover and myself over my ass. There’s a woman in Atlanta, Alexyss Tylor, who used to have a cable access show and would go on and on about Vagina Power. Now, she’s mostly crazy and I wouldn’t take her too seriously, but there IS power in it, guys. I never surrender my pussy – it’s a gift I give, after an appropriate amount of teasing. But my ass? I don’t think about “giving” butt secks, I think about my lover “having” butt secks with me.

In essence, vaginal sex means I fuck him. Anal sex means he’s fucking me.

It’s the give and the take. There is a complete shift in my being when I have anal sex with my partner – the noises I make change, my orgasms are entirely different. It is the time when I most feel like an animal. And I can ride his cock and run the show and be the one that’s breaking a sweat and getting tired, but at the end of it all, he was the one that was fucking me.

I’m the girl that walks up to a group of men at a party, brazen and not shy. I’m the girl that makes eyes at that skinny bearded and bespectacled boy at the end of the bar. I’m the girl that will straight-up put her car in park and get out to yell at some road raging asshole. I’m the girl with the confidence. The gusto. I don’t demand attention, I just get it.

But you see, that’s exactly why I love butt secks. It’s the ONE time that I put all of my control on the shelf, put myself face-down in a pose that would be fit for worshiping a gilded god, and I do what I’m told.

“Lift your hips,” he’ll say.

“Come closer to the edge of the bed.”

Strong hands, pressing into my hips and then into the small of my back, causing that really great deep arch.

“Give me your hands.”

And then, because I can never totally let go, a command from me, the girl that likes to top from the bottom…

“Pull my hair!”

“If everything seems under control, you’re just not going fast enough.” – Mario Andretti

I have control issues. I like to be in control of the schedule, the menu, the car, most everything in fact. So in the world of domination and submission, I should be a natural dominant. I like to be on top after all. And I am always ready to tell my lovers all about my wants and desires.

But, it is nice to have a switch around sometimes and there is still nothing sexier than a man who takes control. (I have a long standing sexual fantasy involving Howard Webb that attests to this.) I have a job that involves making decisions and bossing people about (I’m not a professional Dominatrix, I promise) so I don’t always want that in the bedroom. Sometimes, I know what I want and I make it happen, but other times it’s nice to have a bit of a passionate throw down. (Not unlike Sam, I do enjoy a bit of a tussle during foreplay.)

So, basically I like variety, with a hint of Vanilla. As long as the end result is a good variety and some fun, I can go with the flow. However, there are a few key things I would ask all my lovers; past, present and future to remember…

Being submissive with me is not:

1. Lying back to “be done unto” – that’s just lazy, men can be starfish too.
2. Constantly asking “What do you want me to do?” – have a bit of imagination! Do I have to tell you everything?
3. Asking for me to put on heels and then kick you – this actually happened once, it was a bit weird for me.
4. Never reciprocating – you should go down too sometimes. Yes, it is a very good thing.
5. Running into the bathroom to suit up into some lunacy gimp outfit and coming back looking like Smeagol.

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Being dominant with me is not:

1. Coming in your timeframe and then ignoring mine  – that’s just lazy.
2. Unexpected anal – permission and lube are ALWAYS prerequisites
3. Damaging my clothes or delicate skin – a firm grip and a bit of a spanking is great, but try not to leave marks. It upsets the next chap.
4. Never reciprocating – you should go down too sometimes. Yes, it is a very good thing.
5. Running into the bathroom to suit up into some lunacy gimp outfit and coming back looking like Smeagol.

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Whichever way you choose to take the power dynamic is all good with me. Just remember it’s always about giving and receiving of mutual pleasure, and NEVER about gimp suits.

Hello. My name’s Ken.

For those of you who weren’t around when I last introduced myself, in my ode to Not-So-Skinny-Women during Man Month, I’m white, goofy, red-headed, gainfully-employed, six-foot-two, and I’ve never had a cavity.

I was an altar boy, an honors student, a Cub Scout, an award-winning high-school artist and a professional puppeteer (honest). I even spent two years in India reading to the homeless and aged.

Oh, and I’m obsessed with having women sit on my face.

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We all have our fetishes. Our strange predilections. Those things we absolutely, positively need to indulge in on a regular basis, lest we get a bit silly and start pounding our heads against the wall.

For me, that thing, that fetish — as anyone with even a passing familiarity with my blog, Lustmongers, already knows — is having my face wedged between female buttocks.

I think it began in my high school days. I was probably about 15, messing around with my friend Lisa when she knocked me over during a playful wrestling session, straddled my chest while facing my feet, and planted her jeans-clad booty on my face. Trapped under the weight of her round and, as I recall, pretty fucking remarkable glutes, I felt a wave of desire wash over me. Something I’d previously only felt for stacks of coveted Wade Boggs rookie cards and souped-up dirt bikes. I remember struggling under her, desperately wanting to breathe but praying that she’d keep me tucked under there forever. At one point, she raised her ass off my face, laughing as she asked if I’d had enough. I just stared forward, my eyes transfixed by the curves of her ass all up in my face, the seams of her faded Guess jeans so close I could stretch out my tongue and trace them, the feel of her thighs on either side of my head almost transcendental.

She sat back down on my face and I was hooked. Done. Fini. I was an ass man. A “please, sit on my face” man.

As I worked my way through college, my fetish took hold. When I met women in bars or classrooms or casinos, I took only passing interest in their faces or hairstyles or majors. I waited until that moment they turned around, in order to soak in the full majesty of their derrieres. And from that moment, I began plotting and scheming how I’d get that ass on my face by night’s end.

It’s not easy work, this fetish. Not surprisingly, there are some women who don’t jump at the chance to have some dude’s nose up crammed up their assholes. Some say they’ll try it for a bit if it makes me happy, others dismiss it outright. I try to make it worth their while. My hands gently massage their thighs. My tongue traces gently toward their holiest of holies. I appreciate their business and I’m looking to build a base of repeat customers, so damn right I work the magic. If they aren’t reduced to a quivering pile of orgasm-saturated nerve endings by the time they crawl off my face, then I haven’t done my job. And as a face-sitting enthusiast, that shit don’t fly with me.

One former paramour summed it up best when she told me, “I don’t really dig sticking my ass in a guy’s face. But seeing the way you react and how your body responds to me sitting on your face. It’s a pretty big turn-on.” And I think that’s the bottom line, so to speak. You may not dig it, ladies, but when you see what doing it to me inspires me to do to you… you’ll become a convert.

I used to spend hours wondering what this fetish said about me. Does it reveal an inherently subordinate nature? Am I something less than a man because I dig kissing female arse? Can it all somehow be connected to my great Aunt Nettie, who touched me indecently?

Then I realized that time I spent pondering this question was time I wasn’t dedicating to finding women who’d sit on my face. So I dropped that shit real fast and got back on the case.

So I’m here for you, ladies. You and your asses.

Love,

Ken

Gentleman, when it comes to giving your lady oral pleasure, it’s really all about technique – trust me. I do recognize that it’s not for everyone, but for those of you out there who dig going down, pay attention. I’m about to give you a step-by-step guide on pleasuring your woman with your mouth, lips and tongue…

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Step 1: ALWAYS Perform the “Smell” Test. While kissing your girl, just slip your fingers down there to make sure there is no funk (FYI Ladies: it’s a very small patch of grass to maintain – just a little water and soap is all you need).  Bring your fingers back up and discretely take a quick whiff. All clear? Then begin your descent towards her love box. If you decide it needs some Febreeze, just take a rain check or suggest showering together. Remember, be subtle. She won’t want to play at all if you give her any inclination you’ve been put off by her odour.

Step 2: You’re NOT Digging for Gold. We all know the prize is there, but since it is very much worth the wait, leave it to the end and explore a little first. Please note, your woman’s cooch is not like a crackerjack box either – so none of that digging around and shaking shit.  Take your time and work your way down SLOWLY, kissing, licking and tasting everything along the way.

Step 3: Make Use of Your Chin and Fingers. Boys, when performing oral you can gently use your chin as a guide. Softly thrust it forward against her lips and then slowly, move it in a side-to-side motion to clear away the “bush”. (If you’re a bush lover like our man Sam, before you start clearing the bush you can take a few moments to rub your lips against it. Some women, like me, love this – just remember you aren’t trying to erase anything.) Once you get to her inner lips bring your lips down. Now your nose should be buried in the bush (yeah it will tickle, but you’ll either get used to it or forget about it). And get those hands moving. Your fingers don’t have to be idle – they too can help you explore.

Ladies, Please Note: While we’re on the subject of bush I’d like to add that keeping your small patch of grass, whether you’re the full clean up job type or not, well manicured is a must. And if you’re into being different be creative and make your bush a work of art. For inspiration (be careful NSFW) click here.

Step 4: Good Mouth Work is Essential. Here is where we determine if a man is actually worth his salt. Where you place your tongue and lips, your technique and how much pressure you use, is VITAL. Don’t just aim to get your face wet, learn what works. In my experience, real fast licks are fun for about five seconds. If and when it turns into “jabbing” you might find yourself in a headlock between her thighs or be left with the imprint of the heel of her hand on your forehead because she pushed you away.

I suggest using soft circles with your tongue – it works like MAGIC!! Apply pressure as needed (if you’re not sure ask!). Then take her inner lips into your mouth and suck, DON’T bite. When she’s good and warmed up, and only if you know you are highly skilled, you can take her “pearl” between your teeth. And for the love of God DO NOT CLAMP DOWN like you’re chewing a cocktail onion. Instead rub the tip of your tongue back and forth. Finally, and again this depends on the girl (so you should ask), you may want to switch it up and fuck her with your tongue for a bit. Swirling your tongue around her the edge of her cunt a few times, before using it to fill her up, is a sure fire way to get her attention.

Step 5: LOOK, LISTEN and FEEL. I’ve already mentioned the fact that you should ask her for feedback and clarification about what she needs to get off via oral, but I’d like to add that once you’ve asked you need to listen – carefully.  If you’re lucky enough to be with a woman who knows what she needs to be turned out, you’re likely to be told about which side/part of her clit is most sensitive; how she likes you to kiss, lick or suck it; and everything else in between. If your partner is unable to give you much info about this, keep your eyes and ears open while you work. Most women will give you a clear indication of what they like or dislike when they’re receiving oral by giving you verbal or non-verbal cues.

For example, if she’s moaning with pleasure or telling you to stay ‘right there’ – don’t you dare change what you’re doing. If she moves your head in toward her or further away from her just take the direction (as long as she’s gentle – ladies don’t go cranking your man’s neck around). After all it’s about her at that moment, not you right?

As for the looking and feeling, if your girl tends to be as quiet as a church mouse in the bedroom it means you’re doing something wrong, you’ll have to rely on non-verbal cues to gain insight into what works. If she’s got her head thrown back and her back is arched, I’d say you’re on the right track. If she’s pulling away from you or trying to close her legs, there’s a pretty good chance what you’re doing isn’t working for her – and in that case just regroup and try again.

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So there you have it folks, my five easy steps to giving great oral to your girl.

Wishing you many nights of happy and pleasure filled pie eating (YUM!)

LL

We live in a society that values results – test grades, college degrees, monthly paychecks – so it’s not surprising that we run our sex lives like we run our work lives. We want results, and if we don’t get them, we feel like we’re failures. In this society, sex is no different. The orgasm has been put on a pedestal.

I spent years believing that if I or the man I was sexing up did not reach orgasm, something was wrong. I let my mind get into the game, and when my mind got into the game, I lost my game. I began to over-analyze sex, at the expense of really enjoying it. And, as anyone knows, anxiety is a mood killer.

A recent encounter changed my perspective. I had fallen head over heels for this one man, and our connection was so vivid I was sure we’d been best friends in a previous life. This is the only man who turned me on by just holding my hand. It was pure electricity. On our first date, we kissed in a parking lot in front of a closed department store, and I felt as if fireworks had imploded in my head. Not surprisingly, we were soon bedfellows.

However, this man rarely orgasmed. The sex was incredible, arriving in waves of enjoyment that captivated both of us for hours. At first, I was slightly alarmed by the lack of a definable “end” to our enjoyment, and wondered if I was doing something wrong. But no, he assured me, he “rarely did.” And we resumed the fun. I stopped over thinking it and began to enjoy some of the most intense sex of my life, orgasms included.

Since then, I’ve learned to enjoy sex as is – a sort of “zen sex” – without a concentrated emphasis on the ephemeral orgasm. If one or both of us reaches that happy window, fantastic. But to try for it at the expense of enjoying the journey? Not worth it.

Remember those lengthy make-out sessions you experienced with a high school crush in a darkened hallway? The way your heart beat underneath the stubborn layer of clothes that somehow remained on your body? Were these encounters any less delicious than the encounters you experience today? I’d argue that they were just as much fun, orgasm or not.

So, to orgasm or not to orgasm? Well, if you relax, you’ll get there. Or not. But as any good philosopher will tell you, it’s all about the experience…

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so why not enjoy it?

Sex is a physical passion, a talent and a skill; yet we have heard of the impact of all day foreplay where the mind can be engaged from a distance to leave you jumping on your lover. This is a great tip for the way to get better sex, but today I want to spin it around. Get better sex through avoiding bad sex, as it were.

It’s all about focus. Don’t let others get into your head and ruin antics in your bed!

I’ll give you a common example of one’s head ruining the moment:

I wonder if his last girlfriend was thinner than me?

Suddenly you are thinking about lighting and avoiding unflattering angles rather than riding the waves of delicious orgasms. So switch it up, ladies!

Do you think he’s going to enjoy a perfunctory blow job performed by a lass who is wondering about how her technique compares to his ex?

How about his cock being explored by the tongue of a girl while she massages the length of shaft with her lips and simultaneously uses one hand to grip the base and the other to gently cup his balls? That kind of attention takes concentration!

Don’t you think he is going to enjoy it even more if he looks down to see you looking back at him with sheer unflinching desire in your eyes? He knows you are enjoying it – so he does too. Suddenly you are giving him “the greatest head” ever.

Get into the moment and out of your psyche, your insecurities and your hang ups; but most importantly get out of other people’s business. If you are worrying that someone is having better sex than you – they probably are. This is because they are out there doing it and enjoying it instead of worrying, judging or preaching. I sincerely hope everyone is having GREAT sex. It’s my personal belief good sex makes people happier, and I make no judgements about how or who they do.

However, if you are the kind of person who makes a habit of judging others because they’re actually going out and getting some in the manner they want it, you’d better go fuck yourself – because you ain’t gonna be worth anyone else indulging in nudity with you.

I wouldn’t normally impose such vitriol on this site, but over the weekend we had some cowardly comments posted by a cretin picking on our beloved Shans. (I’ve seen similar comments and nasty digs time and again across the blogosphere, and I just can’t understand what floats the boat of the trolls that leave them behind?) We here at metanotherfrog.com love Shans because she is a dear and slutty friend, who takes time out to share her sex life with our readers to give you guys entertainment, some education maybe and a little voyeuristic thrill. As sex bloggers we put ourselves out there – some for kicks, others for therapy and there are even a few among us who do it because they’re on a crusade to  make the world a better place for the naked.

I write about sex because I love it. Each each of my little missives to you is like the tender caress of my fingers across the page, every comment I get back another “petit mort”. So my advice to those with a darker purpose – go suck cock. Except this time do it with some enthusiasm and maybe both you and your partner will actually enjoy it!

For Shans, With Love  xx,

ER

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I used to date men. I am not one of those lesbians who realized from birth that she was all about women. I discovered my sexuality slowly as I came to terms with the fact that my girl crushes and sexual fantasies were way more than just that. When I finally decided to date a girl for the first time, I thought I had struck sexual gold. It was so different. With girls I always felt turned on and ready to be naughty. Girl on girl action was f’in hot and always blew me away. It also made me perplexed as to why, all of a sudden (or so it seemed to me) I was forever horny and wet with excitement throughout the day. I went from being a hetero girl who was chronically telling her lovers ‘I have a headache’ to a ‘I can’t wait to get home and get fucked’ lesbian. I almost felt like I had developed the libido of a guy, thinking about sex non-stop during the day, to the point where I often seriously considered heading to the bathroom at my place of employment to ‘rub one out’. I decided I needed to figure out what was going on, why my pussy was always ready and hungry for a release.

In an effort to discern how and why the change in my sexual appetite had come about I started to pay attention to the differences between relationship with my lesbian lover and the straight liaisons I had had in the past. What I noticed was that from the moment my girl and I woke up there were: soft smiles, random acts of kindness, coy looks, the little kisses, funny texts, quick conversations and playful yet slightly sexual hugs. Then it hit me. All our ‘play’ packaged together was really the gift of all day foreplay. She and I were engaging in very subtle yet consistent flirtation and physical contact that kept us both happy and ready to dish out the pie. You see being female, my partner and I both understood how a woman would want to be treated. As a result we were able to easily give each other what was necessary to keep the sexual tension in our relationship high.

So, men listen up. Like we lesbians, my het sisters know how they want to be treated. Assuming you’re interested in finding out what it would take to keep your girl ‘revved up’ for you all day, you can ask her what she wants, but more importantly…pay attention to what she does for you. People have a habit of doing onto others as they would have done onto them. So, if your girl is texting you to tell you how much she misses you during the day there’s a good chance that if you do the same for her, she’ll be one happy and horny gal, anxious to demonstrate her gratitude in the bedroom by the time you two connect at night.  I know that’s how it works for me.

When my girlfriend has spent much of the day telling me how beautiful my eyes are or that I have the best hips and ass, you know how I say thank you? This is how. When night falls (or even before that on some days), I let her know that it’s her foreplay (that incidentally didn’t start 15 minutes before, but eight hours earlier) that got us there. I lay her down on her back and slither up her body, kissing everything along the way (very important), our legs making “scissors” – yummy. With my senses working overtime, I thrust myself into her, to say thank you for loving me so good. Then, I turn myself around and hover my pussy over her mouth, so I can use my tongue, my chin and my fingers on her. If we’re lucky sometimes our perfectly timed and mutual orgasms are the big firework THANK YOUS we give each other that say…

“Thank you for reminding me during the day that I have an admirer. Thank you for always letting me know that you love me. Thank you for showing me that you have my back each and every day. Honey, your efforts to show me how much you care didn’t go unnoticed.”

So, if you’re looking to have your woman thank you the way my girlfriend and I thank each other virtually every night, I say up the ante on your foreplay by putting in work all day, because…

A little foreplay sprinkled here and there throughout the day all but guarantees an amazing roll in the hay.