Posted by Lilly | 6 Comments
Wake The Neighbors….
When I recently visited my longtime friend, the topic turned of course to sex at one or two points. Clinical, theoretical, opinionated talks. One topic, after numerous drinks by the couple, turned to how much noise my friend makes in bed. Or, rather, doesn’t make.
My bold, outspoken, ballsy, loud-mouthed friend is the exact opposite in the bedroom. That’s not to say she’s “frigid” (I hate that word). She loves sex. Her sex drive is crazy high. She especially loves sucking cock and freely, openly admits this in most cases. It turns her on immensely. Unfortunately, this is the only real thing that her boyfriend knows for sure arouses her. When it comes to sex she literally tightens up. He will see glimpses of her arousal and pleasure bursting at the seams but the moment a sigh escapes her lips she unknowingly clams up.
The discussion about this was basically him openly, and lovingly, telling her what she does/doesn’t do and telling her why he’d like her to be more free. To wake the neighbors. Not just for him, but for her, as well. He reasons that because she’s not at all vocal, be it in voice or body language, to his ministrations, he’s never really sure what or if she is enjoying. After a while, my friend started to take it all the wrong way and assume that he and I were saying that there was something wrong with her and that she wasn’t good enough in bed. He insisted that the sex is phenomenal, he loves it, but he knows that she could enjoy it even more and therefore so could he. That getting her off gets him off. Seeing that he is indeed giving her great pleasure is the best thing for him. I would have to agree with him on that…I absolutely need that feedback, I thrive off of it. I know my husband does, too.
We know why she’s like this. She was married to the first and only guy she ever slept with for a long time. Her and her ex had been together for something like 15 years. Her ex wasn’t much into sex. He never, not even on their wedding day, told her he thought she was beautiful. Sex was always brief, perfunctory and very infrequent. Quiet was encourage. Experimentation was not. So the boyfriend of less than a year has a LOT of “damage” to undo. My friend just feels weird making noise. Or saying anything. And then the circle goes right back.
Another topic in this long conversation came around to how rough each of them likes their sex because somehow my friend and I got to talking about BDSM a little bit. She wanted to know what it all stood for, what the words meant. She liked the sound of both masochist and sadist. Rough sex was discussed between the two of them….a little spanking, a little throwing around, etc. They’re both in great shape and she’s got the most incredible pain tolerance. Yet he’s not quite comfortable with being rough enough to spank her. He’s afraid he’ll hurt her. She’s afraid of hurting him. Despite both of them sitting there telling the other “It won’t hurt that much, don’t worry about me”, they kept insisting the same thing. It was like a huge circle talk of frustration. I’d like to think that some good came out of it all though. I’m hoping it did, since last week she texted me for recommendations on ball gags and wrist restraints. Yay!
So what do you think?
Does making noise mean better sex, if it’s genuine and not re-enacting the scene from When Harry Met Sally? Are there better ways for people like my friend to convey what is working and what isn’t, when they’re not comfortable saying a peep?
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Posted by Lilly | 8 Comments
The Fake Orgasm: You think you know, but you have no idea
Women fake orgasms. Not all women or not all the time. It is slowly becoming less prevalent but it still happens. Just a few generations ago women were not taught much (if at all) about their sexuality, their sex organs, or about sex and pleasure. Our grandmother’s mothers probably told them that “sex is for men and making babies”. Virgin brides were worried about it hurting and were told that it would hurt. Word of mouth was all that they knew; if you came from a Catholic family …. forget it.
So a few months ago a post was highlighted either on Facebook or Twitter and I skimmed it and bookmarked it for later; the title, “He Doesn’t Deserve Your Validation: Putting The Fake Orgasm Out of Business”, didn’t leave me feeling negative about the article. I was prepared to write a post agreeing with the author.
I’m not agreeing with the author on many things. I do agree to the basic message though – a faked orgasm doesn’t do us (either person in the equation) any favors. And as soon as I typed that out my brain went “Well…..sometimes it does….”
A woman faking an orgasm is now sort of, just part of the deal, isn’t it? You just do it; it’s almost like something that’s passed down from generation to generation, like makeup tips or a recipe. It’s a gift women give to men, because it’ll just keep him satisfied and calm. Many of the women I’ve talked with see faking an orgasm as a little gift, a favor for the man they’re with. That makes no sense to me. Faking an orgasm is not like making him a snack after he comes home from work or remembering what kind of beer he likes to drink.
Really? A gift to men? I used to fake….a lot. I did not ever view it as a gift to my partner. Did I do it sometimes to keep him from feeling inadequate? Yes. But then again in many aspects of life I’m the one asking “Well what do YOU want to do?” Because I’d much rather go along with their plan and see them happy than me choose the restaurant/movie/place we’re going and feel guilty the whole time because they’re miserable. Is that my responsibility, is that fair? No.I really want to know though what many women this guy is talking to, what their age range is. I am 34 and I have faked orgasms. There ya have it. But I have never and will never qualify doing so as “I did it for him”. For US though? To keep both of our happy glows? Yeah. Mostly. Sort of. Because deep way down at the heart of the matter it wasn’t JUST about avoiding that let-down look of “I’m terrible at sex and now I feel guilty” that would end up ruining what had actually been fun and pleasurable experience and even bonding for me or emotional (It felt good. Great, even, but I couldn’t quite orgasm).
I faked orgasms because I didn’t know how to have one.
In fact, I don’t think I would have recognized an orgasm if it bit me in the face. And when I compare sensations and those little after-shock contractions now vs then….um yeah I actually did have orgasms. The contractions, and especially the twitchy minutes-long aftershock contractions, are never present for me if I didn’t orgasm. Ever. I know this now. I didn’t know it then because I didn’t know how to orgasm. I didn’t know what I needed. I didn’t know how to give it to myself much less ask for it (pre-vibrators). The first boyfriend I had sex with (I was 18) I also watched some soft porn with occasionally. We were horny little bastards. I liked the sex. I liked most of what he did to me. What I didn’t like I didn’t know why I didn’t like it so I couldn’t give him any feedback. Did I see fantasy-world porn and fantasy-world “orgasms”? Yep. Did we both watch that porn and use it as our manual and expect our results to be the same? Yep. I don’t think though that I faked it modeling after what I saw on porn. I think I was mimicking him. His pleasure built and built and built and it was obvious and then….crescendo! angels! choirs! He was exhausted and delirious and right there was the proof positive of his orgasm, filling up the reservoir tip of our condom.
I’ve almost never been with a guy who wasn’t like me in some regard – my pleasure was his pleasure and vice versa, our arousal and enjoyment fed off of the other’s arousal and enjoyment. So yeah he was going to make sure that I came, too.
I was too embarrassed to tell him I didn’t. That I didn’t know how to have an orgasm, that I’d never (to my knowledge) had an orgasm and that frankly I wasn’t positive that I knew where the clitoris was (I didn’t, I found out in my mid-twenties).
I faked an orgasm (or 300) because I was self-conscious and woefully un-sex-educated.
Because even when I would finally learn where things were and what I (or my partner) was supposed to be doing with them I still couldn’t orgasm. I’d get close….and maybe I did actually have a mild orgasm but I didn’t know it. I thought it was supposed to be bigger, better and more obvious. “You’ll know” I was told by the few female friends who had experienced an orgasm. Fireworks. Earth moving1.
I faked orgasms because I didn’t want to explain all of the above.
Many of my “fakes” were faking in the way of saying “Yes I came”. Actually verbalizing the words because I was asked if I had. Did I? No clue. Did it feel realllly fuckin good though? YES. I’ve had a lot of really good sex where he’s hitting my g-spot over and over and it just feels fucking fantastic and I’m vocal about that. My “holy shit”s and “oh fuck yes”es are not theatrics and they’re not lies. It feels awesome. And then he came and it was done and I knew I wasn’t going to come because I just don’t/can’t get there and I didn’t want to ruin the awesome sex and the whole vibe by saying that I didn’t come.
Many women fake their orgasms as a means to end an un-pleasurable sexual process.
Ok….yeah. If it’s a one-night-stand or new boyfriend or whatever…yeah. I will totally fake for that reason. I’d tried the honest route and was met with puppy-dog “Let’s try it again!”. No no, I’m dried up and rubbed raw and no longer aroused.
In the end I appreciate the effort this guy and others are trying to put forth. It’s the thought that counts. Kinda. But seriously, would the people talking about this shit stop fucking assuming that there aren’t a multitude of reasons why we fake and that many aren’t “a means to an end” or “a gift”??? You’re. Not. Helping.
I try to avoid being and sounding prescriptive in my writing, but in this case I am begging women to put the fake orgasm out of business. Men don’t need or deserve more validation—we get it every day, in many different ways.
I do not fake to GIVE YOU VALIDATION.
Most women have yet to discover their true sexual power—not power over others—but the power they can feel within themselves. So when men maintain women by doing a little here and there in the bedroom, and women fake it, it just leads to a diminishing of female power.
No, honey, I just had yet to discover where the fuck my clitoris was, what was required to stimulate it enough to orgasm and that the magic answer for me was “vibrator”2. And once I discovered “vibrator” I had to discover what kind and what style and how best to use it. Some women do that with fingers and tongues. I spent 10 years on fingers and tongues. I should have a fucking PhD in the failure of the application of fingers and tongues to my clitoris.
There are so many women who are going to disagree with me. Am I giving others permission to fake? Well, no. A lot of the women agreeing with the original article all proclaim that they have high sex drives (Hi, me too!). Do they perhaps have higher self-esteem or better sense of self than me? Were they taught or just inately knew all their years where everything was and what you were supposed to do with it? Quite possibly yes to all of those. I have distinct memories of high arousal as a girl and then teenager. But I had no fucking clue what to DO with that arousal. You’re hungry? You eat food, you don’t feel hungry anymore, you feel happy and sated. You have to pee? So go, pee freely, “aaahhh” as it comes out and your stretched bladder feels more normal. But as a woman/girl who just knows that there’s all these feelings and sensations and they generate from perhaps the vulva-region but were not taught that masturbating relieves the built-up sexual tension from arousal and you feel sated like you just ate a chicken after not eating for 2 days.
For men it’s pretty easy. You get aroused and there’s no question about the origin of those sensations because it’s sticking straight out suddenly and so as a kid you touch it and….hey…..please may I have some more? And then oh! There ya go! Isn’t that better? That was pretty easy.
WE AREN’T LIKE THAT.
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Posted by Lilly | 8 Comments
Does Size Matter?
This question was very simply asked of me recently on my Formspring. It seems to be a very popular question for men to ask of women. Is it perhaps those that might fall into the smaller-than-average camp doing the asking so that they hear more women say “No, it doesn’t matter” to bring up their confidence? Or are too many men made to think that anything less than 7″ is considered to be small?
Britni recently addressed something similar, regarding being a size queen with dildos but not with bio-cock. I’m pretty much the same as her. I am most definitely a size queen when it comes to my sex toys…but there’s a reason for that. Using a dildo is very VERY different from how I get fucked by a guy. The angle, the force behind it, the speed, etc. When I’m using a really fat dildo, I tend to barely move it at all. I like the full feeling, the pressure. I’ve never fucked a guy with a cock quite as big as the fattest dildo that I’ve used. My husband is fairly well-endowed, and there was a pretty long time period in my life when the first few moments of penetration with him were painful. I’ve luckily moved past that now, but why I did I have no clue.
Too big?
There is, in my opinion, such a thing as way too big when it comes to bio-cock. I have to be perfectly honest with you….if your cock is any more than 8″ long or 2″ around….I’ll likely pass on sex. Especially in length. The vagina can and does expand during arousal and penetration, especially the last 2/3; the cervix will retract as well. The amount of expansion and retraction though varies from woman to woman. Some women can accommodate a 9″ cock…some can only handle half of what I consider my max. To me though whenever I get the ubiquitous cock-shots from Craigslist or dating site emails, if the guy is showing off his monster cock…..I utter an “eeek!” and move along to the next one.
Some positions, for my husband and I, are quite difficult. Doggie style for instance. In that position, if he’s not careful, he’ll bang my cervix and it’s quite painful. And sex isn’t as fun for either of us if we have to focus on being careful.
Too small?
“It’s not the size of your cock, it’s how you use it” is true 97% of the time. But back in the day I can recall being with a couple of guys whose cock was shorter and thinner than I was accustomed to…..to the point where I had to actually ask “is it in yet?”. Either they were unskilled or what, I’m not sure but I do know that there is a “too small” for me…… However, I’ve yet to meet a man again who was that small and it’s not common. “Too small” in my opinion is less than 4″ long and less than 1″ wide. But that’s only my personal opinion and my vagina.
Average is not Average
Considering that the average length of the human male penis, aroused, is ~5-6″, the word “average” shouldn’t ever be taken here as derogatory. Average is more than fine with me. After all, my g-spot is probably only about 2″ deep, and the most concentrated nerve endings are in the first couple inches of the vagina. There are positions to change up the depth of penetration during sex and also affect the snugness of the vaginal canal during penetration.
One of the things that I feel bad about with my husband’s length is that I can’t really get much of his cock in my m0uth for a blowjob. I can’t deepthroat. Guys who fit into the average range are more likely to consistently receive a “full coverage” blowjob, where someone can meet their nose with pubes, lol.
We all have our hang-ups and fears about our body parts during sex. Porn can contribute sometimes to these hang-ups, seeing as how they tend not to show men less than 7″ in porn. Guess what guys? We’re not all multi-orgasmic from penetration like the women in porn. We don’t expect you to shoot your load across the room. We don’t expect John Holmes-sized cocks to be hiding out in your pants. Porn is a caricature, often times. (this is why I prefer amateur porn)
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Posted by Lilly | 7 Comments
Fucked by a Stranger
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this bizarre, twisted fantasy. The roads leading to it were different, but the end result the same: a stranger fucking a very willing me in my bed in the dead of night. I would never see much of him. Perhaps the strangers intent had been rape but instead he’d happened upon a half-naked horny girl……(me) one who was already wet, already willing and able. These fantasies have roots in a time when I didn’t fully understand the mechanics of sex but I knew I wanted it. Before I even knew how to pleasure myself properly, I had firm belief that this rough stranger could please me.
I’d wondered how I could live out this fantasy…make it reality and yet still make it safe despite the underlying danger in it. Even if I’d spoken to the man before online I still wouldn’t *know* him and be able to trust him. Trust that it would be just him that night. Trust that he wasn’t a complete psychopath. I came close once to setting something up but I chickened out at the last minute. I don’t think I could safely pull this off without involving a third party. A third, trusted party who would vet the stranger and who would keep a far-away eye on the scenario.
I pictured myself waiting for the stranger in one of those picnic pavilions we have here in parks. Sitting on the top of a picnic table, facing away from wherever he would be coming in. I would be wearing a summer dress and nothing else; easy access to a shaved cunt and braless tits just about to pop out of the top of the dress. I would hear his footsteps and not see him. I would feel a heady mixture of equal parts fear and arousal take over my body. My body would be humming in anticipation of his touch as his footsteps drew closer. He wouldn’t say a word to me. Just come up to me and……
(you finish it…..)
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Posted by Lilly | 16 Comments
Mental Health and Relationship Health
It’s no secret that I don’t possess “normal” brain chemistry. If you want to label it, the best label is ADD-Inattentive with a side-order of fibromyalgia (body disease but also affects the brain and can act like ADD) and an occassional helping of some other as-yet-unnamed disorder. I’m not easy to treat with meds. I’m a puzzle and doctors don’t usually want to spend the time on me. I’m not responsive or overly responsive to many meds, thanks to the fibromyalgia. And so, since brain chemistry affects sex drive, mine is like a rollercoaster.
But my husband….he’s also got a dopamine-deficiency disorder. Which exact label, we’re not sure. His acts different than mine and gets treated differently from mine. He’s more susceptible to outside sources affecting his chemistry levels….from food/sugar/caffeine to emotional stresses and lack of sleep.
It’s not easy being a couple. I think he has more patience than me, because I’m losing mine. Back in December he had a big ole upswing and was better than he’d been in years. Our relationship was great, I was pleasantly surprised to be able to rely on him for husbandly duties like coming with me to visit my mother. And sex. It was more often, and better. But then a month or two later, his shitty job and his difficult programming class started to get the better of him. And it’s gone downhill. Everything.
I’m walking on eggshells. Silently losing patience and, for brief moments, respect. But then I remember that he can’t control his brain chemistry any more than I can. But then I have moments of “But *I* work and *I* go out shopping and *I* do XYZ…..why can’t HE??” and the cycle starts all over again. And the health of us individually is failing, but also the health of our relationship. I can’t even recall when we last had sex; it might be a month or two months, I’m not sure any more. We spend our evenings in different rooms of the house. He babbles on about hockey because it’s one of very few outside sources that stimulate his adrenaline and dopamine in a good way. He babbles and I tune out because as much as I want to care about something he likes, I just can’t care about hockey, lol.
I get advice but it doesn’t help because only he and I can figure us out and what to do for us. Nothing can be forced or wrenched into place. It’s true, I’m losing my patience with him and the state of things. But I’m only human…right? It doesn’t make me feel any better though about losing my temper and patience and blowing up. It doesn’t make me miss “us” any less.
If you’ve gone through this, how did you come out the other side in tact?
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