“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.

I have to shake my head when I think about all the sexual encounters I’ve had in my time. I’ve done things that make R. Kelly look like Regis Philbin and I own a sex tape collection that would make Kim Kardashian jealous. I’ve done the dirty in some of the most inappropriate places and participated in acts that would’ve made Rick James real nervous. Some of the sex was fantastic, what wet dreams are made of. And other times were so bad I tried to erase the memories of them from my mind by sitting down with my good friend Jack Daniels. Unfortunately for me, there are some things that even hard liquor can’t make you forget…

Many women don’t seem to realize that cleaning themselves and their lower region is very, very important. Nothing turns me off more than a woman who doesn’t handle her business right and then has the audacity to expect me to get hard and get all up in it, when she smells like the Bahamian Fishery.

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During my university years, I had a good female friend who was cute as hell who I wanted to get with real bad, but every time we were about ‘connect’ she’d say the timing just wasn’t right. Well, after months of flirting and many nights of blue balls, I finally convinced my lady friend to give it up. On the night she came over to do the deed she was looking fine in her tight light blue jeans, matching denim sandals, and white baby tee.  From the moment she walked into my apartment I started grinning like a pedophile at recess and the stiffie in my pants threatened to bust straight through my zipper. She sat down on my couch and gave me a look that said “You want some of this player?” to which my lust-filled eyes replied, “Yes please!!!”

Anyway, we got right down to it and before she knew what hit her I had her face down and ass up, as I drilled it home from behind. It was all going well. She was lovin’ it and I was just about to start to praise God for his many tender mercies when her crotch rot started to overtake me. At first it was real subtle, but it quickly became overwhelming. Man, her cooch smelt so bad I actually started gagging and came very close to throwing up, but I was determined to see it through ‘til the end. So I hunkered down with my hand covering my nose and kept laying the pipe on her until she came. As soon as she was done, I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to take a loooong hot shower. Then after I reluctantly let her use my bathroom to wash her dirty behind, I hustled her right out the front door. Once she left I lit every candle and piece of incense I could find, but even that didn’t kill the smell of her crotch rot. It was that ugly.

Since that night folks, I can say without a doubt that crotch rot is my biggest sexual pet peeve. But I’ve got a few others that I’d like to get off my chest. Ladies pay attention…

Talking Too Much During Sex – Sometimes you women can talk to much in the bedroom. If you’ve asked me “Do you like that?” three times and I answered yes each time, stop asking me already. As a matter of fact just stop talking. Period.

Being Selfish – Nothing grinds my gears more than a girl who is selfish in bed. If on a consistent basis I put in work, make you cum with the quickness  and you roll over mumbling some shit about “That was real good baby, I’m through” don’t act all confused and come round asking me “Why don’t you want to get with me no more?” when I stop calling you.

Just Laying There – Now why would anyone come out to play and then turn around and play dead fish? Women who don’t move or actively participate in sex make me feel like they don’t really want to be there. I like a female who is real playful, assertive even. FYI: Any woman who chooses to lie still in my bed will very quickly be faced with a limp dick attached to a sleeping man.

Nuff said.

Picture it ladies. You’re in the middle of the diddle with your flavour of the moment or maybe even your beloved, when suddenly you find yourself thinking about how far behind you are on a project at work or the errand you forgot to run before you got home that night.

That’s right, despite your partner’s ‘other worldly’ skills and natural prowess in the bedroom, for some reason unbeknownst to you, your mind has pulled out of the action and you can no longer focus on what’s going on between your legs. So, what do you do to bring your mind back into the game?

a)      Ask your partner to hit it a little faster and harder.

b)      Try your best to appear interested and no got out like a starfish until he’s done.

c)      Squeeze your eyes shut and picture the sexiest thing you can think of.

d)      None of the above.

If you chose c, much like yours truly, you understand the lust inducing power of a really hot visual during sex. What’s that you say? You want to know what I picture when I’m having sex and my mind drifts away?

Uhmmm…well…I usually imagine that I’m being serviced by… uhmmm… I can’t believe I’m telling you this…two men – sometimes more if I’m really honest.

There I’ve said it. If I lose my ‘focus’ during sex (and depending on the skill of my partner, sometimes to increase my chances of having an orgasm – because I’m so not into faking), I envision myself with a few guys to get my mind right. And when I do, I picture it all as if I’m standing in the room, watching the action happening to me (further evidence of my voyeuristic tendencies).

I’m not sure why this works for me, as I’ve never participated in any kind of group sex, but I do get real excited when I watch porn (very rarely I assure you) that features multiple guy on one girl action. Can you imagine how good it would feel to have a few pairs of hands and lips on your body girls? Personally, I think my head would explode from all the stimulation. (And yes, having a few extra cocks in the room would be cool too – as long as none of them are trying to access my back door. I’ve got a serious case of IBC).

Of course my being turned on by the thought of having more than one man in my bed begs the question, will I ever partake in group action? I doubt it, as I’m one who believes that not every fantasy we have needs to be fulfilled (after all there are times when the reality of things isn’t so hot right?) That said,  I’ve learned that when it comes to sex, I should never say never, as I’ve done a lot of things in my boudoir that I once boldly declared I’d never ever do. In any case, I guess you’ll all have to keep reading this blog to find out if I ever partake in a little group action.

So readers, what thought/image brings out the “randy-ness” in you? Do you think your partner would be miffed if he/she knew your mind was elsewhere during sex? And would it bother to find out your partner’s ‘fantasies’ about being with someone else fueled their passion for you in the bedroom?

As we enter a new year and the end of the “naughts”, I’ve been reflecting on how the world has changed over the past 10 years or so. I’ve been thinking about the ubiquity of the Internet and social networking sites; the rise of the blog and the viral video phenomenon; and the sheer speed with which information can be disseminated. In this day and age news travels fast people.

Hand in hand with these developments is the rise of the sex tape. It seems like you can’t open the newspaper, turn on television, or use your favourite search engine without hearing about so and so’s sex tape. And thanks to folks like Perez Hilton (parasite) and sites like TMZ (seriously people, have you ever watched TMZ. I did. Once. It made my blood curdle. I just don’t get the obsession with hounding A, B, C, all the way to F list celebrities, and mocking them for trying to live their lives. Those people over at TMZ are bloodsuckers). Just today I overheard coworkers talking about the possible existence of a Tiger Woods sex tape. Last week, I think I read something about Rihanna having one.

All this talk bores me. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to criticize some C list celebrity who’s made a sex tape,  but I have to say, that the danger, the cachet of having a sex tape is lost. It’s no longer illicit. And thanks to sites like YouPorn and PornoTube celebrity porn has to compete with Regular Joe porn. And I don’t know about you, but I think I’d much rather watch the amateur stuff. (Important note here. Though celebrity sex tapes are ostensibly “amateur”, I don’t view them as such. Celebrity porn is professional porn as far as I’m concerned. Most of these people guard their images so carefully that when a sex tape comes out you have to assume it’s intentional. Seriously people, it’s easier for me to go on the internet and get a close up of Britney Spears’ cooch than it is to get on Ticketmaster’s website and get a ticket to her show – but I digress).

Anyone who’s seen the Ray J and Kim Kardashian sex tape knows what I’m talking about. As Skye discussed in The Rise of The Starfish Ms. Kardashian is pretty immobile. My coffee table moves more. She does make some nice sounds though. And she makes some pretty faces. Plus, I will give “eat the Jimmy Kimmy” points for doing an Akinyele and “putting it in her mouth”.

What must it be like to be a teenager growing up during this era? In my time, taping your sexual exploits was a different proposition. You would have to convince one (or more) of your boys to hide in the closet and film that shit on a stealth tip (not that I have any actual experience hiding behind a pile of Cross Color gear trying to focus a camcorder or anything). Now, it seems like people are making these tapes in the casual manner in which we used to go over to a friend’s house after school and play Super Nintendo. Man, if the Internet was running things when I was coming up, I can’t even imagine the kind of crap we would have done.

But maybe things haven’t changed that much. As long as people have had the means to record images, they’ve been recording images of people (themselves?) having sex. We all know someone, if not ourselves, who has done the old fuck it and film it. Maybe we all want to have our own close up, or live vicariously through those who have memorialized themselves on film or video.  As they say in showbiz: “Lights, Camera, Action!”

Your thoughts good people?

After reading Skye’s Top 10 Tall Tales Told in the Bedroom, I was struck by one thing – the fact that women out there are still worrying about ‘their number’ and working hard to keep the ever escalating tally under wraps.

Ladies, when a man asks you how many sexual partners you’ve had do you:

a)  Lie?

b) Tell the truth?

c) Refuse to answer?

Well, according to Skye, most of you would pick ‘a’ and falsify your numbers by ‘forgetting’ to count a few of your past bedmates. Personally, I can only ever remember asking the question after having been asked first, but I must confess that it is not a conversation that fills me with dread. I’m not afraid of learning that my partner has had countless lovers before me. Nor am I afraid of hearing that a potential lover has had more partners than me. To me it’s just a number.

There’s a scene in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral where Carrie (Andie MacDowell) reveals to Charles (Hugh Grant) that she’s had 30+ sexual partners in her life. Many men I know would be mortified to know their current or potential paramour had this much mileage on the old odometer. But Charles (who reveals he’s only had 9 partners) doesn’t seem all that disturbed. And you know what? I wouldn’t be either. In fact, if given a choice, I’d rather date the woman who’s had 50 partners than the woman who only had 5.

For numerous reasons (too numerous to expound upon here) upon hearing that a woman has had say, 50 partners, many men would assume some variation of the following:

“Damn, she’s been around the block.”

Or

“God, she must be a slut/whore.”

Apparently you women are quite aware of this. So, to avoid societal judgments and your beau deeming you to be a card carrying  ho for having slept with more than 10 guys, you choose to lie rather than face the crushing weight of someone else’s morality. To my mind however, this kind of logic and thinking on the part of men is really just coded language for, “man she has lots of experience, has seen many a phallus and how can I compete with that”? Whereas men like me (and presumably Charles) think:

“She’s experienced and should know how to handle her business. Sweet.”

That’s not to say that every woman who’s had many sexual partners automatically qualifies as a love goddess (as anyone who’s read A One Sided Conversation or Rise of the Starfish can attest). Nor does it mean that a relatively inexperienced partner doesn’t know how to “work the middle”. But, in my experience it’s easier to get a woman to throw down if she’s been in the ring before. It’s like knitting or macramé. Practice makes perfect.

Now, assuming that she is in the habit of practicing safe sex, I can see very little wrong with falling for or falling into bed with a woman who’s scored more than Pele (for all you number crunching fiends, that would be 1 087 goals between 1956 and 1974). In fact, the only real issue that I can pinpoint has nothing to do with the actual number per se, so much as the context of the numbers.

To illustrate, a friend of a friend was dating a girl who had only slept with six men before him. Well, the proverbial shit hit the fan when he found out that she had once worked at

…a local rub and tug

…several days a week

…for half a year.

Then there is that famous scene in the film Clerks where Dante finds out that his girlfriend, who had only slept with three guys before him, had conveniently forgotten to mention that she’d also given head to 36 guys – not including him.

These are the kinds of issues you potentially run into when you put too much emphasis on numbers.

Sex isn’t baseball, people. The stats don’t matter all that much. Many of us have grown up hearing the axiom “numbers don’t lie”, but what is also equally valid is that numbers don’t tell the truth either. They don’t make moral or ethical judgments. They may tell a story, but they certainly don’t tell the whole story.

My girl Skye is one of my closest friends, and she and I talk about everything under the sun—politics, relationships, sex. You name it, we’ve talked about it. We’ve developed a truly open and honest relationship. There is very little she could say or very few topics she could bring up that would truly shock me (and vice versa). That’s why I was genuinely taken aback when she reacted with a mixture of astonishment, horror and dismay when I told her about some of the more passive…ahem…encounters I’ve had in the boudoir.

Part of the reason I was so surprised by Skye’s reaction, is that I’ve always known that ‘starfishism’ is pretty common. Like many men out there, I’ve had my fair share of bad sex. But don’t get me wrong people. I’ve also had plenty of many mind blowing experiences and most of my sexual dalliances would be filed in the adequate or better category. Still an alarming number of my sexual experiences have lacked a certain… participatory element. And trust me, every man – not some, but every man – has a host of these stories to tell.

Take my evening with a woman we’ll call Sarah as an example. I met Sarah at a New Year’s Eve party. Soon after we were introduced by mutual friends, we ended up on the dance floor together. Now, this woman had moves. She could do things with her waistline that questioned, and then answered all the laws of physics. As the night wore on, I was sure that the fireworks we had created on the dance floor would translate into something explosive in the bedroom. I was wrong.

After fumbling our way through the dimly lit room like two circus clowns we undressed with the sheer hormonal enthusiasm of teenaged virgins at the prom after party. We eventually made our way to the bed and started getting busy. Or more correctly I (please note the emphasis) started getting busy. I’m not sure if Sarah was worried about messing up her hair or if she was engaging in a new form of Zen Buddhist sexual practice that required cemetery silence, but her stillness was startling. Perhaps she’d been taught that the missionary position only works if the female (non)participant lays still and remains quiet as if locked in prayer for the duration of the proceedings?

Now, I know what you are all thinking. Sam Sharpe, what did you expect? You didn’t even know her. It was a one night stand and there wasn’t any time to develop chemistry. Okay, I’ll give you all that, but then how do we explain Jules?

Now Jules was a sensuous looking woman. She wasn’t emaciated like a model or Hollywood starlet. She was curvy and solidly built. She was the kind of woman who oozed sex appeal, and who commanded a room upon entrance. Having said that, despite the fact that Jules and I dated on and off for about two years, I can count on one hand the number of times she kissed me below my neck.

As far as I can recall there were only a handful of times that she initiated any kind of action. After enduring a few months of this one-way traffic my frustration boiled over. I felt it was my duty as a man to speak up, so I did.

“Jules, is it too much for me to ask you to do a little something when we’re in bed? You know, like move, touch my body or do anything else that comes to mind.”

Do you want to know what she said to me people? Can any of you guess what her response was? Well, with a straight face, my sweet Jules said…

“Why, should I do anything? That’s your job.”

At first I laughed hysterically. I knew she had to be joking. I was so sure she was joking.  But when I wiped the sweat from my brow and stared into her eyes I could see that she was serious – dead serious.

And that’s the crux of the problem. Although Jules may be an extreme example, far too many women out there believe that sex isn’t something they do. Instead they think (and I have yet to figure out why) it’s something that’s done to them. Unfortunately, women who approach sex this way miss the best part of the action. Much like any group activity, sex is better when all parties involved take an active role.

No matter what size queens and the porn industry want you to believe, good sex isn’t about how big, how long or how much. It’s about how open you are to your partner. So if you’re tendency is to lie lifelessly on your back while your partner pounds you, you’re not really adding anything to the conversation.

And take it from me, The F’in Man, virtually no one (at least not anyone worth being around) enjoys a one sided conversation.

I was at my girl C’s house reasonin’ about events of the day when the topic of young starlets and sex tapes came up. It seemed to us that in recent years ‘leaked’ sex tapes were launching careers in Hollywood the same way glossy nude photo spreads in Playboy used to. In an effort to understand how a sex tape could elevate someone to celebrity status C and I decided to do a little research.

C quickly booted up her laptop and typed ‘Kim Kardashian sex tape’ into the search bar on Google. Once we found a site that actually had the tape, we started the short video clip. Rather naively we both anticipated viewing some scorchin’ hot action, featuring Kim throwing down like a porn star. So, you can imagine our horror when a minute or more into the clip Kim was still just laying there while Ray Jay pumped her like a flat tire.

‘My God, she’s not even moving!’ C exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. ‘Have we been working too hard in bed all this time Skye?’

‘Apparently,’ I replied, transfixed by Kim’s vacant eyes staring into the camera as she lay on her stomach beneath her man, moaning wantonly. ‘Maybe most guys like it that way?

‘Skye please. My man would go on strike if I made him work like that.’ C shook her head from side to side. ‘It’s girls like her that give the rest of us a bad name. Poor Ray Jay’s workin’ like a beast, while she’s laying there like a–.’

‘Starfish, C. Kim Kardashian’s made it big in Hollywood by playing the role of a starfish – really well.’

‘Indeed.’ C powered off her laptop, signalling her dismay. ‘And it’s a damn shame.’

After seeing Kim in relative ‘inaction’ I decided to do an informal survey by asking my boys how often they encountered ‘starfish’— women whose active participation in coitus is limited to showing up and getting naked for the event.

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Girls, I’m sad to report that man after man told me that many of their sexual partners did little to nothing besides ‘fluffing’ them and then quickly assuming the position of the day. And more than a few of my male friend’s complained that their women were loathe to initiate sex; provided blowjobs grudgingly; and didn’t seem inclined to take on their ‘fair share of the responsibility’ for achieving the ever elusive female orgasm.

By the completion of my survey, I had to concede (as The F’in Man predicted) that the numbers of starfish among us seemed to be nearing pandemic proportions. Of the 22 men I queried over ¾ said they’d encountered a starfish in their adulthood, and 14 (that’s almost 64% girls) said they’d had a starfish in their bed within the last 12 months.

Based on the shocking results of my survey I have to assume that some of my readers are, have been or know starfishes. If this is the case, I can only guess that there must be some damn good reasons for choosing to approach sex in such a passive way. So, for those of you who fall into one of the aforementioned camps I have a few questions:

1. Why are so many of we women ‘falling down on the job’ in our boudoirs according to the men in our lives?
2. Just how many starfish are out there?
3. Would you consider being labelled a starfish an insult?
4. If you think you may be a starfish, would you be willing to broach the subject with your partner or have him broach it with you?
5. Is being starfish a chronic condition or can it be overcome with ‘training’?
6. Is the affliction partner and/or situation specific?
7. What is the root cause of ‘starfish-ism’? Not knowing what to do? Being told that sex is dirty and unladylike by a well-intentioned mother? A lack of self-confidence? Not enjoying sex at all? All of the above? None of the above?
8. Are women who gleefully and actively participate in bedroom gymnastics part of a very small minority?

Dear readers please forward your comments to help me to understand why so many liberated, sexy and beautiful women out there are suffering from this condition.

Thanking you in advance for your assistance,

Skye