Vanilla Ice Cream versus Hot Fudge Brownie Sundae toped with Peanut Butter Sauce

Vanilla ice cream is okay some of the time. Plain Jane ice cream can be soothing after being bombarded with a variety of other flavors. However, I tend to lean towards the peanut butter chunk ice cream on top of a warm, moist brownie, doused in hot fudge and peanut butter, smothered with whip cream. Full of flavor and full of POW. And this is also how I order my sex: intense, over the top, and full of treats. However, like making out of this world sundae, not all the ingredients are in the kitchen for crazy sex. The energy that goes into sex that is far above vanilla standards is tremendous. Both partners need to be up to the task of performing, and if role play is involved, both have to get into character. If the couples completing coitus are acting out a fantasy, all the tools and the perfect setting must be set. There can be no forgetting of the plaid skirt or sexy nighty. The handcuffs and belts must be in reach. Pleasure tape has to be purchased, but no one can ever seem to remember to buy it. Lube must not be lost in the limitless pit of the bedroom, hindering the ritual of obscure positions and anal sex.

Am I saying I have a lot of boring vanilla? No, actually my sex life is far more exciting than most and I have the bruises on my ass to prove it. We screw around every time we see each other, whether it be very public head or cervix pounding sex. But my quest is to increase the intensity even beyond what we have. So starting this month I will remember the pleasure tape so I can be the kidnapped

The Flood Waters without the Thunder and Lightning

I have no problem having sex. This must be made clear. My problem lies in the lack of conclusion. There is no pinnacle of excitement and definitely no big bang. The waters down south do begin flowing and clearly I am aroused physiologically, but the lighting never strikes and the thunder never shakes my body.

My SO does not have any problem having an orgasm. Sometimes his experience is so intense, he is completely dumbfounded. His is like a huge release and is accompanied by the blowing of a huge load. Sometimes this splatters in my mouth, across my body, or reservoirs in the tip of a condom. I can tell by the look on his face that he is happy.

I want this experience too. I want a magnificent orgasm that I can revel in for a few moments. But rarely do orgasms happy, let alone mind blowing experiences. I no longer masturbate because all it does is frustrate me by not producing an end result. Sometimes while my SO is doing all the right things, my body is just throbbing but the lightning never strikes. This great feeling of being on the edge of something grand eventually takes it toll and becomes painful and I have to ask him to stop. I know he is doing all the right things; He spends a great deal of time stroking me, rubbing me, nuzzling me, and sucking on me to no avail. It gets to a point where I just want him to thrust in me and get it over with.

It is a source of great frustration to me, but I know it is a burden to him also. He feels as though he is performing inadequately. But it truly is not him. This is all on my shoulders. I have had this problem for a while; before it was only when men were working on me that the end was never in sight. Now I cannot even get my own rocks off. It is a shame.

If anyone has any suggestions, please say something. Frustration and anger are obviously not helping. Also going off meds does not seem feasible, but if that is the cause, I might have to. I want some fucking lightning.

Please Use the Backdoor...

From what I gather by reading a variety of post online, anal sex is gaining popularity because of how taboo the practice still is. From my own personal knowledge of the subject I can think of three main reasons it is so taboo.

Hygiene is probably the first reason I can think of why anal sex is considered a bad thing. It is true; a great deal of bacteria does pass through the anus in the form of feces. However as long as the area is cleaned and whatever objects that enters the anus enters no other part of the body, the risk of spreading bacteria drops significantly. Also wearing a condom helps maintain a cleaner safer experience.

Another reason anal sex is so taboo is probably because is more dangerous than vaginal penetration. The walls of the rectum are softer and more easily damaged than those of the vagina. In addition, the pushing of an object through the two sphincter muscles (which old things in) can be quite painful and also create quite a bit of tearing. Any opening of the skin puts the receiver at greater risk of infection and the transmission of STIs. But these tears, on their own, can become issues. They can increase in size and depth, creating fissures and fistulas. Wounds like these can cause infection and break down in surrounding tissues leading to feces being evacuated through openings that feces should not pass through.

But the real taboo nature, I believe, comes more from the culture we are brought up in. Many religions consider anal sex a sin because it has no real procreative value and is often the practice of homosexual males. Growing up Catholic did not have a stifling result on my sexuality, but I do know how my religion interprets sex. It should only be penile-vaginal intercourse because that is the only way two people can procreate; procreation is the only purpose for sexual intercourse. Sodomy is mentioned often in the Bible in the terms of sinning. People consider this fact the reason not even to try anal sex. They consider it a grave violation of everything God has said and created. I do not agree. I do not believe that God would let something be pleasurable if it was a deadly sin. I believe more along the lines that the reason sodomy is a sin is because it was a practice that could be found outside of those who worshipped God in ancient times. The believers in God could use this fact to place themselves about the “pagan” and “heathen” sinners.

I recently read an autobiography by Toni Bentley called The Surrender: An Erotic Memoir that discusses this taboo topic in great detail. In this book, Bentley describes how she was an atheist and found God through anal sex. I enjoyed the book, despite the author’s apparent mental and emotional health problems. She made some valid points about the enjoyment anal sex. She mentioned it is not for everyone, and if it causes one severe pain and bleeding, one should most definitely not do it. I agree with this sentiment completely.

Another huge factor that goes into having enjoyable anal sex is trust and communication. If the receiver is not communicating with the giver, damage is inevitable. If the giver is pushing to hard and too fast, the receiver needs to speak up and suggest maybe a more gentle approach. A more gentle thrust decreases tearing and pain, making the whole experience for the receiver more pleasant. Also, the giver can experience quite an intense orgasm from slow thrusting. Fighting the urge to jam and ram it all in there really creates quite a release. From reports of guys I know, they say it is quite a mind blowing experience doing it slowly and not as savage.

The act also involves a lot of trust. One has to be able to trust that the giver will listen to their desires and will stop if necessary. If this trust is not present, the receiver may become tense, tightening the muscles in the area, making penetration all the more painful and dangerous. If a person trust their lover, relaxation will occur, which in turn makes most experimentation easier and less stressful.

Overall I do not oppose anal sex. I believe it can be quite enjoyable if both participants are on the same page. So please, enter by the back door only if you and your partner are in a good, solid, open, and intimate relationship.

YES!!!!!!!!

So this past weekend I had my first orgasm in quite some time. I was riding my SO while it happened, and then I just kept going to he could ejaculate all over my back. The lack of orgasms is not the fault of my SO; it really is my fault. The medications I am on makes it harder to have an orgasm (but not harder to become aroused). I just wanted to share my joy. I promise I will return to a more philosophical stance on coitus next week.

Oh Rapunzel, Rapunzel, May I Pull Thy Hair

Some believe that the payment for vanity is to lose that source of pride. I know this all too well. My hair was my crowning feature. I held it above all else. I was quite vain about my appearance and my hair was the greatest embodiment of my vanity. But then I became ill. My body began to wither away. Yet my hair remained strong and shiny. My hair was the last part of my exterior that felt the toll malnutrition was taking on my body. When it began to fall out I was devastated. I even cut it off to hope that the loss would stop. However the hair loss increased. I was effectively going bald. Now, as of writing this I have a very thin pony tail.

My hair was an integral part of who I was. It was long and luminous. It graced my lower back with its natural beauty. My luscious hair was not only beautiful but strong, strong enough to put Rapunzel to shame. Slowly I pray that this new hair growth I am experiencing will return my beautiful prized possession.

This sudden hair loss and lack of glorious locks has impeded my sex life. My hair took a paramount position when it came to attracting my partners. My long hair helped showcase my “exotic” facial features and highlight the thinness of my face. Now I keep it pulled back to hide my unattractive mullet (yes you read right MULLET). I cannot run fingers through it to display my desire to be approached and caressed. Flipping my hair around is no longer a viable option for arousing men (and some women *wink*). The worst part besides being less attractive is the sex. I cannot lie their, writhing in pleasure with my hair spread out behind me like some angelic halo. And being called a cum slut while sliding my lips along a hard cock is not the same without the affectionate hair tug. Hair pulling really puts me in my place; my complete submission is demanded by this tool. I am subjected to his will while he has a fist full of my hair wrapped around his hand twice. The pain serves as a motivator for me to please. I become more eager to please with every tug, yank, and gentle stroke. I would even be willing to be dragged around by my hair.

The fantasy most impeded by this lack of luscious glowing hair is my Rapuzel fantasy. I have the desire to be like Rapunzel, locked away alone waiting for a man to come and fuck me silly. He would call for my to lower my hair, so he could tug on it as he hoisted himself up into my bed chamber. His thanks for a heroic rescue would be he could have me to be his. With all that hair, the pulling and the tugging and the riding would be fantastic. He would be able to pound me from behind and grad a fist full of that hair and give his thrusting an added punch.

But this is not an option at the current time. Sad, but true. So until my hair returned to its full gorgeous self, I will be longing to hear “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, may I pull your hair.”