Just tested the language filter on my hello kitty email.
There isn’t one.
I am so putting up a CL ad for people to send their naughty stories to my hello kitty email.
My partner is bringing me a buttplug and beets tomorrow.
I fucking hate the term ‘partner’. We are not cowboys and we are not in business together.
Wait, we could be in the business of making sexytimes. This could work.
About my weekend
Saturday, got prepped for the weekend. Bf’s birthday weekend, that is.
He picked me up and we went and got his place ready. L and her new lady, C, came over to get ready for le fetish party with us.
I looked freakin amazing. New contacts, new style of makeup, new latex skirt. All good shit. Apparently my man buys me presents for his birthday :D
Made it to the club - paaaanic. I could not de-stress. A bit of E and cran cocktail later and I was fiiiiiine.
Apres club, we hopped on a converted greyhound with several other people who were having a few birthdays and headed to the after-party. Got a little more smashed, hung out, a bit of light sexytimes avec audience. Man lost his bad of pills, so that put a bit of a damper on things for a bit.
L and C wanted to leave early, which kind of sucks because the man and I were having fun, but whatevs. He found his pills as he was gathering his stuff. Shit yes. We headed back to his place and got smashed with the ladies, had sex in the lube pool (yessssss lube pool), had a bath, got smashed some more, then called it a night around noon.
Next day, got up, cleaned up, ate, got messed up again. I finally blurted out that I love him. Did not go as I hoped, but didn’t really go poorly, either. There was no ‘I love you, too.’. I still am not sure how I want to deal with that, but he was also still like, nice about it? I am choosing for now to look at it as ‘Well, he didn’t run away and he’s still wanting to see me more and what not.’ I can’t make anyone love me, and I would rather not be sad about it. He’s made me happy for this long without telling me he loves me, so why fuck up a good thing over a concept I’m not even fully at peace with myself? (I have trouble making two views I believe in actually work with each other: One where I think it’s just a bunch of chemicals and behaviours designed to keep the species going, and the one where I feel it deeply and strongly in every part of me.)
I somehow made it to work today, was productive as hell, and feel pretty good.
6. Obviously fake orgasms.
No one buys your insane, operatic, starts-the-second-you-lay-a-single-finger-on-her orgasms. Every time someone fakes an orgasm — especially an orgasm that seems too good to be true (yet is believed by some naive person who just wants it to be real so badly), you are ruining it for the rest of us gals who refuse to fake it out. Every time a man has looked at her with a mix of earnest disappointment, frustration, and disbelief, asking her, “Why can’t you come? Every other girl did,” it is your fault. Yours.
“10 Things Everyone Hates About Sex” (Thought Catalog)
NO. Misogyny fucking central, here. When some dude treats you crappy because he doesn’t think your orgasm was theatrical enough, that’s his fucking problem for not bothering to learn what your orgasms are like, that each woman is different, and for not appreciating you for what your are. And you? You blame SOMEONE ELSE rather than just saying “This is what my orgasms sound and look like”? You’d rather blame some other mystery loud-cummer than fucking talk to your partner?
Oh, and can we go over some reasons why people fake it? Like, I dunno, their sole income is based on their ability to put on a sexy performance? But oh, how horrible of someone to “ruin” your sex life because they want to survive. Or like, maybe their partner is an abusive shitstain and pleasing them sexually makes them lay off for a bit - or maybe they get hurt if they DON’T fake it. Or maybe, just maybe, some people like the way their own overexaggerated orgasm sounds, looks and feels, or the way it effects their partner?
Oh and PS, did I mention not all people orgasm the same? Oh hey guess what, I’ve lad loud-ass, flaily, drawn out REAL orgasms, just as I’ve had silent ones my partner probably didn’t even notice. I can’t imagine I’m alone, here.
Shame on anyone who blames some faceless mystery person for the shortcomings of their partner or themselves. Saves you the work of actually tackling that problem, though, doesn’t it?
I just want to be able to have and think about sex without hating myself, is that so much to ask?
I want to be able to dress up and play sexy without thinking about fucking patriarchy or whether or not I’m secretly sabotaging my mental health I JUST WANT TO BE ABLE TO ENJOY MYSELF OMG SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
God we fuck up teenagers’ heads. We tell them that biological conditions are moral punishments and then we get all shocked when they don’t practice rational risk management of biological conditions. We teach them “sex is super desirable and all the cool kids do it, and it’s hideously shameful and will destroy your life” and we wonder why they act an eensy bit neurotic about it. If you tried to design a system for making sexually active kids confused and unsafe, you couldn’t do much better than the American media and school system.
And for once, the answer is relatively simple. Just talk about sex like it’s a part of life. Some people have sex and some people don’t, because people are different. STIs aren’t bad because they’re Dirty Crotch Rot; they’re bad because they’re contagious illnesses like strep throat or whooping cough, and you can ask a doctor to check for and treat them just like you would with strep throat. Unwanted pregnancy isn’t a scarlet A; it’s a mostly-preventable accident that sometimes occurs when people are going about their normal business of having sex. You can ask the school counselor about a variety of topics, including career planning, problems at home, questions about sex, or conflicts with teachers.
If we could just get the goddamn stick out of our collective ass and accept that sex is a human activity and teenagers are humans, maybe there wouldn’t be quite so many plaintive “I don’t understand my body and I’m confused and scared and I don’t know anyone I can ask in person” messages flying out into the world.
The Pervocracy - “Teenage Panic.”
made re-bloggable for iamkiam~
“There’s no such thing as too much lube!” and the like, in reference to anal sex.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT TOO MUCH LUBE IN YOUR ASS? IT FLUSHES ITSELF OUT.
There is DEFINITELY such a thing as too much. Look up dry enemas.
The icing on this cake? I see it perpetuated by sex ed blogs.