Do or Don't: Anal Sex

OMG, SO DO.

There’s something fiercely elating about having a penis up my ass. It makes me feel unconquerable…which then of course leads to my wanting the guy to try and conquer me. I love that deliciously naughty tingle that I get from feeling as if I’m dancing on the edge of dirtiness, when I want to be on the verge of moving from erotic intimacy to a rough, animalistic plundering of my body. When a guy’s plowing my backfield, I like him to force my head down and unyieldingly thrust into me, his balls smacking off my clit, along with some slaps to the ass or scratches down my back. If I’m bone smuggling from the top, I want him to hold me down by my tits and my hair and bite my ear and neck.

Fuck, do I need a cock in me right now.

Anyway, so ladies: I know how uneasy you must feel to think about traveling the Hershey highway when your body tells you to park the pink bus in the furry garage.

Ok, that’s a lie; as soon as I discovered how mind-blowing it was to put a dick inside of me, I was trying to put it in every hole I could find.

But I suppose I could see how you might be…anxious. To that I must say, butt sex is like coffee…or gothic art: it’s an acquired taste. Not gonna lie, it does feel unusual the first time you try it. But when you relax your body and find a position that works for you, it starts to feel surprisingly scrumptious.

If you’re new to uphill gardening, I suggest starting with normal boning to get his willie wet or using a condom. Don’t use lube…just trust me on that one. The position I would recommend to start with is lying on your side with him behind you. Allow him to ease his dick in, so you can become acquainted with the sensation. Have him whisper some light filth into your ear. Don’t forget to relax; tensing your body will make it more difficult and perhaps slightly painful. Once it’s in, have him slowly hump your ass, not bringing his dick out all the way before thrusting again. Take it slow until you feel comfortable with his sausage up your ass and then have him take longer penetrative strokes. From this position, it’s relatively easy to transition to doggy-style banana dipping. After that, the sky is the limit!

When I’ve expressed my passion for having a penis up my poophole, a question I am often asked is: isn’t it messy? (Note to the men: you may want to skip to the next paragraph.) My response is, although more often than not the cock comes out clean, I have had a few instances where there was a bit of…residue, if you will…involved. I would like to point out that it happened the first few times my boyfriend and I played in the muddy snake hole, and we’re now happily together for over a year. If life has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes shit happens; you have to roll with it and get what pleasure out of it that you can. In my opinion, not trying anal sex at all just because you might get a little dirty is a cheap excuse.

Being confident and adventurous with your body is just as mentally rewarding as it is physically rewarding. So go forth and conquer some cocks with your butthole.

If the bra fits...

Ladies, imagine you’re at a party and you meet an insanely good-looking guy. You hit it off, laughing and flirting all night; he’s funny, smart, charming, and best of all, it looks like he houses a monkey in his pants. You go back to his place and are excited when kissing turns into stripping. He gets naked and you are taken aback to discover a disturbingly small dick. How do you feel?

 

PISSED OFF, right? I mean, you were under the impression that it was going to be a struggle to walk the next day and now you’re hoping that you’ll be able to feel it go in. (This is where you get oral and get out.) But the point is that what you got is not what you expected. So how do guys feel about a meeting a girl who appears to have two melons in her shirt and then later finding out they’re really just two kiwis?

 

Okay, as long as their little general sees some action, it might not be a huge deal. However, I haven’t met a straight guy yet who doesn’t love to play with your twins…your REAL twins, not the pushup girls (I read this about Wonderbras: “Why do they call them Wonderbras? Because when women take them off you wonder where the tits went.”). While guys don’t mind seeing a little cleave, it’s been my experience that au naturale is hella sexier to them. And ladies, I don’t know about you, but I feel sexier when I go out without a bra than when I go out wearing a pushup. I’ve heard the argument that wearing a pushup can make a girl feel more confident and that guys like confidence. Sure, but which is more confident: feeling good about your boobs looking bigger than they really are or feeling good about the real size of your chest and not being afraid to show it? When a girl rocks what she was born with, now that’s fucking confidence.

Instead of hoisting the hunnies to ungodly heights, show off other areas of your body; wear a short pair of shorts or skirt (what guy’s gonna be disappointed in seeing some leg?) or maybe a backless shirt (which will reinforce that the boobs they see are the boobs you’ve really got). If you’re worried about looking like a peanut smuggler, there’s stickies for that; some of them can be reused (and they’re waaay more comfy than bras). Besides, in this summer heat there’s tons of great skimpy tops that you don’t want to have to wear a bra with.

 

Little boobs should never hold a girl back from getting laid. If you have some fear that they are, then find a way to “make up for them”. Suck boys dry, try anal sex, or give double penetration a go. Or just plain fuck the shit out of them.

So ladies, lose the bra (or just the pushup…baby steps) and let the girls breathe…besides, it’ll be one less thing he’ll have to take off later.

An "Oh Shit" Moment

So this is probably one of my favorite stories. It was passed on to me by my boyfriend, and I am now passing it on to you. Enjoy.

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So there's this girl...let's call her Karen. Karen has a major crush on this guy...let's call him Bill. So they're hanging out one night, flirting, drinking...it's inevitable they're going to hook up, and Karen is thrilled. So they go back to his place. Bill tells her that he has to get up early but that she is welcome to sleep in and stay as long as she pleases, and the door will lock itself behind her when she leaves.

So they do the nasty (I wish I had more details on this, but it's not really a part of the punchline anyway). When Karen wakes up the next morning, sure enough, Bill has already left. She lies in bed for awhile, happily remembering the night before. She then realizes she needs to use the restroom; only, she really has to take a shit.

So Bill's gone, she's alone. Karen figures it's fine, he'll never know she took a dump at his place. She goes into the bathroom and drops the kids off at the pool. When she goes to flush it, however, the toilet doesn't flush. Panicked, she realizes that Bill will know she shat in his apartment.

Karen decides that she'll scoop the poo out of the toilet and dispose of it; that way, he'll never know. So she scoops it into a bag, and then decides to write him a note before she leaves. She lets him know she had a great time last night and that she also noticed his toilet is broken. Satisfied, she walks out the door to head home. Just as the door shuts and locks, she realizes she left the bag of shit on the counter. Right next to the note telling him his toilet is broken.

Needless to say, Bill never called Karen again.

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So ladies, when you go to a guy's house for a midnight fuckathon, make sure you don't leave your shit (or anything that could render your phone speechless for the next few weeks) behind when you leave. When you leave the house the night before, make sure you have with you only what you'd want a complete stranger to find. If you're going to play all coy, at least make sure the panties that you "forget" don't have skidmarks. And for God's sake, know how to macgyver a fucking toilet; that's right up there with knowing how to use a screwdriver and deepthroat a sausage. 

If you think you'll end up playing a game of musical cocks or pin the tail up the butthole, there are a few items that might come in handy. For the late-evening festivities, a useful sex kit might involve some of the following: mouthwash, condoms, edible body spray, hand sanitizer, a mini vibrator, and a hairtie. Throw in a pair of furry cuffs or wear your leather pants if you feel like getting a little kinkier. And always wear heels, it gives you a few more options when it comes to sex positions. Have fun, and hopefully your "oh shit" moment will be one of pleasure, not poo.

Your Dick is My Drug

Hello, my name is S, and I’m a cockaholic.

I love sex. I also love cheese, puzzles, aquariums, and kittens. What separates sex from the rest is that I NEED to have sex. I NEED to be penetrated. I NEED to be taken to Pleasuretown. And the more I get, the more I want and need. I get a slow, deep heat in my loins that grows to a lustful, burning sensation, and every move I make, no matter how minute, triggers a more intense desire to be touched…a stronger urge to straddle someone…an inexorable requisite to be railed and ravaged. I want my hair pulled and my pussy plowed. I want dirty words whispered into my ears. But most importantly, I want to cum. I need to cum. I need to feel those precious seconds of mind-blowing ecstasy, to lose control of my body and be aware only of the incredible, toe-curling pleasure rushing through my body…oh GOD, do I need that.

Why is it that if I have to go a few weeks without a nice, wet Willie, I start to cope a little better? Although I’ll still constantly think about sex, my vagina has been able to somewhat wean itself off the wiener. But as soon as I bone my man, it’s back, and I have to go through withdrawal all over again. The last time I drove back from seeing my boyfriend (who lives many hours away), I wasn’t halfway home before I had to masturbate; I didn’t even stop the car, the urge was so strong and immediate. I hit cruise control and took care of business.

So I started to wonder if there’s some way to explain the drug-like affect orgasms have on me. After doing some digging, I found a few interesting tidbits of information. According to one article: “a scientist watching brain scans of men having orgasm concluded that the scans resemble those of people shooting heroin.” Another article from the same site went into detail on the neurochemistry behind the orgasm and the post-orgasm hangover; in short, during an orgasm dopamine (the neurochemical that activates the brain’s reward center) levels are extremely high. When these levels are raised, we are focused on that specific activity only (“I gotta have it” mentality). Biology has allowed this to occur in order to promote the passing on of genes, and ultimately, the survival of our species. However, dopamine levels drop after sexual stimulation and can lead to addiction, depression, low libido, etc. Extreme swings of high/low dopamine levels can lead to addictive behavior, meaning someone could turn to substance abuse, gambling, or even use a sexual partner to “self-medicate”; anything to get their dopamine “fix”. (If you want to learn more, this website had some great info: http://www.reuniting.info/science.)

Hmm. So all those one-night stands and forest escapades in college was really just self-medication? So what are my choices to avoid “needing a fix”? An article on the aforementioned website stated that the safest way to avoid the extreme swings in dopamine levels is to have sex without climaxing.

 FUCK THAT. Orgasms are my favorite thing in the whole world. Why on earth would I have sex and not cum? That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard.

 Looks like I’m stuck with the cravings. Guess I’ll have to start smoking crack in between romps with my boyfriend. But first, I think I’ll go find some new batteries for my vibrator.

Do or Don't: Warming Lubricant

DON'T. It will inevitably end up in your mouth, and it's not enjoyable to feel like you're eating spicy food while bumping uglies. My belief is that when you're boning, you should have all senses tuned in to the feel, smell, and taste of the sex itself. Not of the lubricant. 

Focus on the fuck. The orgasm will make it worth it.

And that's all I have to say about that.

My favorite dessert: afternoon delight

One of the things from college that I miss the most is the fact that it was a sexual smorgasbord. Thousands of young, hormone-ridden men at their sexual peak, ready to greet you with open beer and bedroom doors. But the best part is that you were free to frolic and fuck whenever and wherever you so pleased. My personal favorite was in the middle of the day. When I worked at a bookstore I would go to my boyfriend’s house during my lunch break and get a quickie in. Or if I was in class and craving a good romp I would text my latest bump buddy and arrange a rendezvous. Not only was it fun and sexually satisfying, it was also a great way to de-stress and clear your mind. Some of the best studying I ever did was after a vaginal workout.

So now that I’ve survived college, how will I survive the deprivation of sexual freedom? How can I get my daily fuck fix?

Currently, I come home from work and paddle the pink canoe (such is the life when in a long-distance relationship); it’s not ideal, but it gets me off. What I would love to do is take those lunch hours and turn them into brief, steamy, moments of thrusting passion. I’d love knowing that I wore my lacy black thong to work so that someone actually got to see it. My thighs would quiver subtly throughout the afternoon and I’d have that just-got-railed glow and had-my-tresses-used-as-reins hair. This vision is incredibly sexy to me: a strong, smart woman takes a lunch break to get on her hands and knees for a ride to brown town. Maybe this occurs in a hotel room or a co-worker’s office…or a park…or a Chipotle bathroom. For those days that you wish you could beat your boss over the head with a baseball bat or punch that girl in the next cube over who laughs like a hyena, it might be a good idea to have a number or two…or five…that you can call up for a cockmeat sandwich. Who better to whip you back into a good mood than someone’s little general? Doing the deed in broad daylight makes it that much more exhilarating; it’ll be impossible to not have a smile on your face afterwards. If you live close to work, even better; have someone over and break in that kitchen table. If you’re like me, you don’t use it to eat on anyway…may as well get eaten out on it. Seriously: the best cure for a bad day, overzealous sex drive, hangover, revenge on your ex-boyfriend, revenge on your roommate, or the lust you’ve had for the mailman, is the same for any diet, from carnivore to vegan…a little afternoon delight.

You know what they say about guys with big hands…

I love a guy with nice, strong hands. And what turns me on even more is when he can perform mechanical tasks with those hands…you know, if he can lube stuff, contort his body to reach into small spaces, use his finger to clear debris from a bearing…oh GOD. Maybe it’s the engineer in me, but guys who use their hands to make a living are fucking sexy. When I’m at work, all I can think about is sex. Okay, so that’s not much different than any other time of day, but at work I think about sex to a point of wanting to rip my clothes off, grab the closest grease-covered redneck, and tell him to pre-lube his packing and mount it to my discharge flange. I have studied the hands of every man I’ve come in contact with at work...and at machine shops, the local Valvoline, and anyone who looks like he knows how to use a lasso.

Anyway, a long time ago, I heard that you can tell how large a guy’s fully-erected dick is by looking at the distance from the tip of his middle finger to the bottom of his palm (right before you get to the wrist). So for a while, I sized men up by using that trick. Then, a few months ago, I heard that the average man’s hard penis is 3 times the size of his thumb. Now I can’t stop looking at men’s thumbs. Guys, it doesn’t matter how fat you are, how tall you are, how much hair you have…I will look at your hands, I will judge the size and shape of your penis, and I will wonder if you prefer top or bottom…or something a little more frisky (okay, I don’t do that last one for the fatties…that’s fucking gross, and you know they can’t even see their dick let alone try and use it in a position that requires additional muscle exertion).

So all that being said, is it true? Is there a correlation? Now, the logical thinker in me wants to go and corral subgroups, take samples, and use statistical analysis to find a trend…the sex addict in me wants to go ride a few herds of bologna ponies and see who gives me the most intense orgasm. For the sake of time and the fact I’m in a monogamous relationship, I decided to do a little research. Many question & answer sites said no, there is no relationship (note: most of these were men’s health websites…surprise, surprise). I found one interesting site that discussed the statistics of penis size, including flaccid and erect length and standard deviations of the majority of the population.

But the argument that caught my eye states that: “Penis size does not follow the same rules as bones and muscles, which have to match the overall height in order to sustain body weight and maintain the erect posture”. The article then goes on to state that the penis should be compared to parts of the body that aren’t influenced by body height, like ears or nose. Hmm. I suppose that could make sense; but from personal experience, the size of the hands doth a package make. Yeah, yeah, I know there are those statistical outliers whose trouser snakes refuse to hang with the majority of society. But I want to be able to look at man and know if I’d be boinking Little Willie or shaking someone’s third leg. A tall, slender gentleman with long, fingers probably has a long, slender dick (if you like having your uterus poked but not feeling anything anywhere else, he’s your man). Anyone with chubby fingers probably has a chubby lil’ penis. I like to look for strong hands that are slightly more vascular and thicker/firmer; these guys tend to have good length and nice girth (and I looove me some girth). Also, guys who are around 5”10 to 6”2 (a little taller than my 5”7) tend to have nicely-sized cocks and are a good height for trying out various sex positions.

So ladies, I still encourage looking at the hands. If not just for the appearance, then for how they use them. Imagine those hands on the girls…or on your clit…or creeping their way in to occupy Vagistan. Are you wet yet? If not, next him. Or bone him anyway and then next him…that’s what I’d do, but simply because I enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that my hypothesis was correct…and of having a good ol’ romp. But if you’re a little pickier, someone within 3-6” inches taller than you might be a good start; especially if you’re looking to play hide the salami while doing a headstand. Regardless, have fun exploring the male anatomy (if he’s fat, it’ll be more like an expedition just to find the one-eyed monster)…but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do twice.