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Who’s Got Masturbation Shame?

I do I do!

Seriously, I’d think I woulda been over this shit by now. (I’ve written a bit about it before.)

But I’m notttttttt!

Or I wassssssn’t when I recorded this 6 weeks ago… (slow on the posting, to be sort of explained next podcast). The odd thing about shame is that talking about it kinda makes it go away some. So maybe listening to me talk about mine can help you give voice to yours…

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Edited: July 7th, 2014

What Triggers Your Shame?

So awhile ago I talked about shame. These were some of my most popular podcasts. And I was surprised. I wasn’t sure if talking about feeling like shit would be all that compelling. But apparently it is! If you can relate to my version of shittiness, that is. And I think most people can, in one form or another.

So I promised I’d talk about shame more about as I learn how to deal with it, let it go, overcome, or whatever happens such that its not the prevalent emotion in my life anymore.

Even Cats Feel Shame...

Even Cats Feel Shame...

And almost 6 months later, its largely not. Its not gone, but its not the #1 thing I feel when I wake up in the morning. That’s new and different. Almost uneasy, because while the shame felt terrible, it was familiar.

So here’s something I’ve realized – shame is an emotion. Emotions come and go. But feelings don’t just come from nowhere, something triggers them, whether or not we’re aware. (And most people are unaware, I was up until recently… and still sometimes.)

Which to me means identifying when the feeling of shame is triggered and what did I see/do/hear/say/remember that brought up that emotion.

And it turns out there are some sexual things that used to cause me a lot of shame. But that really don’t anymore.

At the same time, there are some sexual things that I still do feel ashamed of. Even when my logical brain says everything’s fine, and I wouldn’t judge anyone else for it.

So today I talk more about what I’ve noticed about shame, how it comes and goes, and what I’ve done to let it go.

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Edited: June 3rd, 2014

Obsessive Fantasies About My Sister-In-Law

Ever want someone you can’t have? Perhaps take it a bit too far? Maybe you can relate to this guy’s situation:

Over the past two years I have developed kind of an unhealthy obsession with my sis-in-law. I’ve always been attracted to her, but it’s gotten to a point where I share G-rated pics of her with guys online and jerk off with them while we say anything we want about her. Just wondering what your thoughts might be on this. I have been spending way too much time doing this, and not sure it’s entirely healthy for me.

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Edited: July 23rd, 2013

Lying in a pool of my own ejaculate, I cum.

Lying in a pool of my own ejaculate, I cum.

I already had 2 orgasms. I began watching Elegant Angel’s Lexi – particularly Lexi Belle’s scenes with Riley Reid, James Deen and Dani Daniels. Being blonde, petite, wearing pigtails & knee socks with really passionate sex – I identified with her, perhaps more than any porn star I’ve seen before. Rubbing my clitoris with my fingers, enjoying the tension in my pussy. Stepping up to my electric vibrator, first searching for, then relaxing into the tiny spots sending electric shocks through my body. Enough visual stimulation, I pause screen with Lexi’s face visible, so when my eyes later open – I see her. My alter-ego for the evening. I see me.

I slather my pussy and dildo in coconut oil and spit, slowly penetrating myself with a toy that’s just too big to go in all at once. Warming myself up, I finally slide it up inside. My vibrator finds its way to my clit once again, this time more intense as my pussy has something to grasp. Holding the toy inside, then slowly fucking myself, then faster, then holding. Legs apart, legs together, knees bent, losing all sense of my legs, legs together and I know I am going to cum. The universe seems to slow as I consciously pace my breathing, enjoying the moment just before orgasm. Waves of warm fuzziness through my entire body, I relax into sensation. And I cum, pussy clenching my toy, body contracting.

Relax. A full, complete, satisfying orgasm. My pussy still wants. I feed it with my vibrator and dildo. Exploring – how does it feel if I angle the toy like this, or that? I want to cum. Legs together, lying on my left arm beneath me, holding my dildo and fucking myself – quick, short thrusts – vibrator buzzing on my clitoral hood. This orgasm is fast, over before I know it.

Still hungry. Getting tired, its late, but I want another orgasm before I go to sleep. I try to give myself one. I do the motion that makes me cum… but its not working. Because I know its not the motion that does it. The body is not a machine, its a living work of art. Orgasms are the result of pleasure, not the aim. I observe myself, the way I habitually push myself toward what I want – yet the force pushes it further away. How we do anything is how we do everything. I relax for a moment and readjust.

Suddenly I need to squirt. NEED to. My toy too large to squirt during penetration, I slowly pull it out and gush a stream of liquid. Slide back onto it and off again, fluid spilling out of me. Dropping the toy, my fingers find my wet opening, still squirting. I rub my g-spot, feeling the spray against my hand, as my other hand holds the vibrator just at the edge of my clit hood. The end piece of my vibrator falls off and I almost burn myself because its gotten so hot. I’m still squirting as I quickly put it back together and place it back where it belongs.

Finally emptied, I am laying in a pool of my ejaculate. (Is there a sexier word for this? I don’t know.) Much of the tension relieved, but I still want to cum one last time. Dildo back inside, vibrator on clit, legs together laying on my arm fucking myself again. But this time is different. This time I am swimming in liquid, so much my oh-so-sexy incontinence pad I use to keep things clean is completely soaked. My body weight has kept it from spilling onto the bed, forming a small ocean beneath my pussy. Touching my fingers to the bottom, my fingers are wet to my first knuckles. I am no longer trying, I am enjoying. As I fuck myself, my fingers splash my inner thighs with my own fluid. Waves of myself. I did this. My body did this, what its always been meant to do, to feel. The orgasm comes quickly, yet slowly washes over me and I savor the moment that feels like forever before spilling over the peak. This is what I really wanted.

The bottom of my shirt is still wet.

Edited: July 12th, 2013

What Do You Learn In A College Porn Class?

“The biggest problem with porn is shame felt afterward.”

Edited: May 26th, 2013

Premature Ejaculation Vol. 2: More Tips on How to Last Longer in Bed

Want to cure premature ejaculation and learn how to last longer in bed?

Following up on my last podcast on premature ejaculation, I discuss a couple tips to hold off from cumming too soon!

Subscribe in iTunes!

Edited: May 22nd, 2013

Porn Review: Kimberly Kane’s Beautiful Stranger

I recently discovered director and adult film star Kimberly Kane, in her DVD Beautiful Stranger.

For various reasons, I’d been under the impression that I wouldn’t like Vivid’s films. A lot of their porn is plot-based and most porn stars aren’t great actors. So I’d mentally written off the company even though I barely gave them a chance. This film proved me wrong.

In preparing for my recent interview with Aiden Starr, I found this pic on her website from Kimberly Kane’s Beautiful Stranger:

Aiden Starr - Beautiful Stranger

Aiden Starr - Beautiful Stranger

I thought the pic was really sexy – I love the contrast of a woman’s beauty with a grimy setting, and the stuffed animal gave this dominatrix a sexy yet dirty innocence. The DVD wasn’t like that at all… But I still like the pic.

Onto the video… There was apparently a bit of plot to the film, it began with maybe 5 minutes of story – but I skipped past it to the first scene I watched of three.

Kristina Rose & Bobbi Starr - Beautiful Stranger

Kristina Rose & Bobbi Starr - Beautiful Stranger

Kristina Rose and Bobbi Starr made a great pair. It began with a lesbian domination theme but they wound up trading back and forth, being generally dirty together. I enjoyed the stocking fetish play, tearing them off, Bobbi putting the foot of her stocking over Kristina’s face and making out with her through it was my favorite. I’ve seen pantyhose encasement on and did one encasement clip myself… And I didn’t really get the turn on. But seeing it in the context of two girls getting kinky was arousing.

I skipped the second and third scenes.

Aiden Starr & Denis Marti - Beautiful Stranger

Aiden Starr & Denis Marti - Beautiful Stranger

Aiden Starr was paired with Denis Marti for this boy-girl scene. I’d never heard of Denis but he was pretty good looking, especially for porn guys who often seem to be guys I’d never fuck. So I could imagine myself in the scene enough to enjoy Aiden sucking his cock.

The real pleasure though, came from watching Aiden. There was nothing dominatrix about her in this scene, but she was voracious. When I interviewed her, she said that she always orgasms in her scenes, because they’re HER scenes. I love that attitude. And orgasm she did. I love watching porn where a woman is enjoying it so much she doesn’t care what she looks like. Aiden made the strangest faces and loud squealing noises – there’s no faking THAT level of pleasure. Her response reminded me of some deeply intense times I’ve had with Terry. Because while I watch porn to see pretty girls fucking, sometimes great sex ISN’T pretty – and that’s hot.

Her scene proved me wrong about another thing I thought I didn’t like about porn – the positions that seem to only benefit the camera angle. Like reverse cowgirl where she’s bouncing up and down on his dick – I’ve seen so much porn where girls do this looking bored, and its not something I’ve been particularly into. But damn, Aiden was INTO it. During a behind-the-scenes snippet in the credits, she hopped off his dick and was switching positions. A woman behind the camera (presumably Kimberly Kane) asked if she was having fun – she laughed as she enthusiastically said, “YEAH!” I like being proved wrong.

Kimberly Kane & Savanna Samson - Beautiful Stranger

Kimberly Kane & Savanna Samson - Beautiful Stranger

The final scene began with director Kimberly Kane masturbating surrounded by tall candles, like a seance. I think this was somehow connected to that mini plot in the beginning, but it wasn’t really necessary to enjoy the scene. Kimberly was fantasizing about her dominatrix neighbor. My favorite part was when she said, “I want to taste every cock that’s been in your pussy” while she touched herself – HOT. Blended into a scene of her fantasy, with said dominatrix – Savanna Samson.

I wasn’t that into Savanna and didn’t feel a great chemistry between them, but Kimberly was very into it so she somewhat made up for it. Lots of lesbian action, again my favorite line was repeated as Kimberly licked inside her pussy. YES.

Overall I loved the dirty feel of this film, and the authenticity of most the performers. The camera work was great, and while I appreciated the grimy look – the lighting could have been better at times, especially for close ups. I can’t speak for the other scenes, but I’d definitely recommend. I usually enjoy porn directed by women, and I’m happy I discovered Kimberly Kane. My body liked it too – I squirted 3 times while watching.  I think that speaks better for the film than anything I’ve written here.

Watch Beautiful Stranger here.

Edited: February 17th, 2013

Porn Review of Bobbi Starr’s Vicarious

I recently masturbated while watching Bobbi Starr’s Vicarious.

I first heard of Bobbi Starr’s Vicarious in this article. I figured, if a straight girl is into it – its probably good.

Bobbi Starr - Vicarious

Bobbi Starr - Vicarious

And I was right. While I did a voyeur webcam show, I watched the first hour of this DVD.

All the scenes featured Bobbi’s POV cam, complemented by two (?) additional cameras catching other angles as well as Bobbi filming. I love the concept – I enjoy female POV shots (since its what I see) but other cameras can sometimes get a better view of the action. I would have enjoyed more shots of the entire scene, showing Bobbi holding her camera. It was hot to see her watching the screen on her camera, seeing her capturing her own pleasure. Nonetheless the concept was itself erotic – Bobbi hired these women to come eat her pussy and play with them, filming it herself. Kinda ruins the whole porn-is-made-by-men-for-men argument.

Bobbi Starr POV - Vicarious

Bobbi Starr POV - Vicarious

Each scene began with snippets from a brief interview with her partner – I saw Skin Diamond, Dylan Ryan, and Ash Hollywood. I always enjoy when interviews are included because I like to know the personality of the girl – its what makes me feel attracted to her, and its easier to mentally put myself in the scene. Interviews were short – maybe a couple minutes each – but it broke up the scenes nicely.

Ash Hollywood & Bobbi Starr - Vicarious

Ash Hollywood & Bobbi Starr - Vicarious

What I love about Bobbi Starr is her kinkiness, and though these were girl-girl scenes each included fetishistic elements. All 3 scenes I saw included stockings – I enjoyed watching Skin Diamond lick the bottom of her heels (something I fantasize about but actually doing it – gross… unless they’re unworn). She then kissed up Bobbi’s thighs and ripped open the crotch of her pantyhose to eat her pussy. The scene with Dylan Ryan included some foot play – rubbing her feet on Dylan’s pussy. I wondered if I could have an orgasm from a woman holding her foot against my pussy as I grind against it… probably. Ash Hollywood looked hot licking her ass from underneath, while fingering Bobbi’s pussy – though her fingernails freaked me out. I don’t get how these porn girls have nails and finger themselves without injury.

From the 3 scenes I saw, the DVD had an artistic and feminine feel but with a kinky edge. I’d definitely recommend to anyone into girl-girl, stockings, and/or has wondered how sex looks from a chick’s perspective (you may not see as much direct action as male POV, but its hot in a more subtle way).

Watch Vicarious here.

Edited: February 16th, 2013

Does Women’s Sexuality Have a Place in Sex Work?

The adult industry has a rep for stylizing “male” desires and using the female body to conform. In the internet age, as more women become sex workers by choice, creating and owning their experiences – I’m seeing a new wave in the adult world.

Just wanted to let you know that masturbating along with you for the last hour or so has been an incredibly erotic experience … the perfect meditation that i had been looking for as part of a Taoist yogic practice of prolonged erotic energy play. It was also a wonderful learning experience about female sexuality … getting on to the wavelength of how you touch yourself, how your arousal builds, transforms, etc. After a while i began to mirror your touching, treating the head of my penis like your clitoris, the shaft like your lips, etc. (although mirroring you touching inside your vagina was a bit problematic … so i settled for alternating between the base of my shaft and my perineum. ;-) ) Anyway … thanks for an incredibly memorable experience.

I got this message after one of my voyeur webcam masturbation shows. While I watched amazing female-shot & directed girl-girl porn (review coming soon!), I focused on simply touching my body in ways that felt good. No destination, not trying to have an orgasm or do anything specific. I squirted because my body wanted to, but I didn’t orgasm. And guess what – it was far more enjoyable than the times I’ve tried and “succeeded.”

For all the times I wondered whether there was a place for real expressions of women’s sexuality in sex work – sans performance – this was a nice note to remind me that absolutely, there is. I think the adult world is hungry for women’s true desires… Because I think by and large, the world is malnourished, having learned that a disassociative masculine approach to sexuality IS sex.

When you come across a real, nourishing meal — eat it up.

Edited: February 13th, 2013

Yep, I’m an Exhibitionist

I was the shy kid.

So shy, my classmates would ask me if I knew how to talk. One of the few things they’d hear me say: YES. With as much of an attitude I could muster at the time.

My early masturbation experiences were anxiety provoking. My room was right next to my parents’ and I slept with my bedroom door open. Starting around age 9, I’d masturbate before I went to sleep. Of course, I didn’t call it masturbation… it was just this thing I discovered. It felt good and helped me fall asleep.

But I was always nervous my parents would walk by. I’d hear creaks on the steps and freeze – if I didn’t move, they’d never know.

In middle and high school, I experienced what seemed like overwhelming sexual feelings. I felt like I had to hide it. Nobody else seemed to have these feelings – none of my friends ever talked about it – so I thought I was the only one. I knew people liked sex, but what I felt was so… MUCH. If everyone felt what I did, they’d clearly be talking about it – that was my logic.

I developed a generalized paranoia about being watched. I imagined what it’d be like if there were hidden cameras in every room of my parents’ house. I wondered if God could see my every move, and whether I was doing things I wasn’t supposed to. I was raised as a secular Jew, not religious, but God seemed this being that could know my dirty little secrets. Even if I didn’t tell anyone else. I’d go about my daily business watching myself as if my life were a movie – trying to catch myself revealing too much. I was already shy but became even more internal.

I started being sexual with others around age 14. Shortly after I went on antidepressants. That put a damper on things, though not completely. Having what I saw as weird perverted fantasies heightened my shame. I’d go through periods of trying not to masturbate – if I didn’t indulge it, maybe it’d go away. It always came back.

With guys I often felt frozen. I’d just go along with whatever they wanted, far too anxious to say what I wanted. At that point, I was so disassociated from my sexuality that I didn’t usually know what I wanted anyway. Much of it felt blah. Over time I started resenting the guys who’d get so much pleasure from my body, while I laid there sometimes just waiting for it to be over. Not to say it was always bad, but good sex just “happened.” I never knew how to make it happen, so I’d wait hoping the next time would be what I wanted. Maybe a 1/3 or 1/4 shot.

But what was always exciting was sex in random places. I was usually more bold than the guys I dated. Public sex was one of the few acts I’d initiate. Giving a boyfriend a handjob in class (not to orgasm, of course), fucking in my car in the parking garage, in music practice rooms or offices at school…

Physically, it was still hit or miss (mostly miss). But having sex where I wasn’t supposed to was exciting. I felt alive. The anxiety of being caught was intertwined with my arousal.

So in retrospect, its no surprise that porn appeals to me. As I become more comfortable with my own sexuality, I’m moving away from “performing” what’s requested to simply “doing.” Or “being.” Capturing on film my and my co-stars’ authentic responses. The situations may be contrived, I see it as roleplaying. But our reactions are becoming more and more real.

After webcamming for several months in the typical way girls do – one-on-one private shows for paying customers – I got absolutely sick of it. Not only am I not really into other men, the situation was too forced. I’m not going to have a really enjoyable orgasm in 5 or 10 or 15 minutes, unless I’m sporadically horny in my everyday life. I didn’t like the pressure of someone telling me what they wanted to see. I just wanted to be me.

Tonight was my first voyeur webcam show. Of many more to come, which will soon be free to members of my website. I simply set up my webcam and went about my own business. I was aware the cam was on and felt a small surge of anxiety with being seen – similar to fucking Terry in a swinger’s club. Only I’m alone. Just me. Doing me. Literally.

Being seen doing things I once felt deeply ashamed for feels liberating. Intellectually, I know masturbation is fine, there are no right or wrong fantasies, and any way someone enjoys touching themselves is okay so long as they don’t harm another living being. Yet my sexual response is still tied to anxiety – as if in such a high level of anxiety is a space of calm.

I believe my exhibitionism is similar to people who enjoy extreme sports. Terry, for instance, used to race cars and still likes driving really really fast when no one’s around. He describes the feeling as so intense he has no choice but to be present. To watch his every move, knowing that losing control could mean losing life.

Granted, I won’t die from being watched having sex. But as a kid the fear felt like I would. That response is deeply embedded. But its no longer a problem. Its an opportunity for me to display authentic sexuality to people who are accustomed to seeing over-stylized performances in much of mainstream porn. Or just as bad, romantic movies.

I believe if we saw “real” sex in whatever form it comes, we’d all be better lovers. Myself included. I learn a ton from the women I fuck. If I never entered the adult industry, I’d have no idea just how different every person’s sexuality is. Performing fetish videos and experiencing sexuality with my co-stars has helped me become comfortable with my own weirdness. Which sometimes can be pretty “normal.”

And thus, I’m ready to “come out” with it in a much bigger way. There will always be fantasies I keep to myself, acts I share with Terry I won’t do on camera. I still need a space of privacy and intimacy. But I choose to put a portion of my sexuality in the open, not only because I enjoy it but to show others there are more options for expressing ourselves than we’ve been taught. That the way women get off is diverse, even within ONE woman. That sex IS not anything in particular except that which feels good.

I didn’t choose exhibitionism, but I wouldn’t change it. I’m thankful for my sexuality. And I’m thankful for this lifestyle.

Edited: February 6th, 2013

Exploring My Body Through Masturbation

Before the holidays, I started reading For Yourself: The Fulfillment of Female Sexuality. The author suggested that women who have trouble with arousal, orgasm, or who simply want to improve their sex life masturbate for an hour a day (only 4% of your day). I talked about it a bit on this podcast on masturbation – and my decision to start giving myself the time & space to learn to really enjoy my body. To learn to orgasm easily in ways other than how I’ve masturbated since childhood. To learn to FEEL PLEASURE. To learn to orgasm with Terry.

So I’ve been doing this for 3 days. Tonight I discovered a new sensation I enjoy. Normally when I use a dildo, I just like feeling something inside me. I don’t normally move it in and out, except to get myself more lubricated. But today after I had my first orgasm, I lay there and ever so slightly moved my dildo in and out of my pussy. It wasn’t in very deep – the ‘head’ was JUST in, close to my g spot. It may have been imperceptible to someone watching, but I felt it. A tightening sensation on the top of my pussy, inside. Not exactly my g spot, but nearby.

I had a second orgasm, keeping my dildo stationary at the peak. Feeling like I had to squirt, I quickly grabbed a pad to catch my juices and propped myself up on my elbow. I moved the dildo in and out of my pussy, with a little more depth and speed this time. Within about a minute I started gushing while it was still inside me. And when I pulled it out, clear liquid shot out, near soaking the pad completely.

I tasted the liquid – a very very slight urine taste, as my ejaculate often does. But I’d peed before masturbating so I knew it wasn’t urine, perhaps just a few drops got mixed in.

I love discovering new sensations my body enjoys.

Edited: January 7th, 2013

Learn a New Orgasm

Via Masturbation Advocate Betty Dodson, how to upgrade your orgasm:

Over the years, one frequently asked question comes from women and a few men who are unable to incorporate their current method of masturbation into partnersex.

Many have carried the same pattern of childhood masturbation over into adulthood and it’s now the only way they can get off. Some are stimulating their genitals with one or both hands pressed between legs that are tightly squeezed together while lying face down on their tummies- not conducive to sharing orgasms with another person. Others are humping folded blankets, wooden floors, riding the arm of an overstuffed chair or pressing against hard counter tops.

As kids, the idea was to come fast to avoid getting caught. If we were lying face down, mom, siblings or the baby sitter couldn’t see what are naughty little hands were doing.

While Pressure and Tension orgasms are probably the most prevalent kind for a majority of people, they are limited in terms of bodily sensations- similar to a quick blip on the pleasure scale. The other problem is that they rarely translate into sharing orgasms with a partner. The solution is simple! It’s time to upgrade your masturbation technique.

First let me emphasize, there are a gazillion ways to get off and there’s no such thing as having a “wrong” kind of orgasm.

After years of observing my own orgasms plus all the women I’ve known personally and have worked with professionally, I’ve observed four basic categories: Pressure, Tension, Relaxation and the Combination that I call a “Rock and Roll Orgasm.” This one combines elements of the first three. While breathing fully during a buildup, we are squeezing and releasing our muscles rhythmically with direct or indirect clitoral contact. Pressure or Tension orgasms are most often reached by holding our breath and gasping occasionally. Total relaxation orgasms or what I’ve also termed “Sleeping Beauty” are most rare. To remain totally relaxed while breathing deeply, someone else must do genital stimulation in a manner that is nearly perfect. Ha! If you find that person capture them quick!

While no two orgasms from self-stimulation are precisely the same, most women use some form of direct or indirect clitoral stimulation with or without penetration. The body responds with movement, no movement, along with varied breathing patterns from holding the breath to panting. Other women remain utterly silent while others make a variety of sounds. The mind can be paying attention to what the body is feeling, focused on sexual thoughts, or conjuring up a sex fantasy. Just as long as you’re not planning a dinner menu or running the laundry list.

Click to learn about Betty’s 4 types of orgasm and how you can learn a new technique!

Edited: December 24th, 2012

What’s Your Orgasm History?

Carlin Ross, of describes her “orgasm history:”

The earliest orgasm I remember was in the bathtub. When I was a girl, bath time was the only time I was left alone. My mom would run a bath and I’d jump in with my toys waiting until she left to slide out of the bathtub and ever so quietly lock the door behind her. Then I would turn on the faucet, sit down over the drain, and prop my little legs on either side. The water would run over my clitoris until I had my first orgasm. The first orgasm always took the longest. And the thought of my mother catching me made it all more exciting. She never did come back in time to ruin my masturbation party. She was easily distracted so I had a good 15 minutes to myself.

With each orgasm, I would turn down the water flow so by the time I was 3-4 orgasms in just a trickle of water would send me into orgasmic bliss. To this day, I love to have my clit teased with subtle licking and pressure. When I knew my time alone was about to end, I’d slip back out of the tub and unlock the door. One time my mom asked me about the marks on my bottom – I’d been sitting on the bathtub drain for quite a while and it had left little circles all over my cheeks. She never put two and two together.

One afternoon when I came home from school I found my brother up in a tree hanging gym ropes. You know those thick ropes they make you climb for those state fitness tests. We were all very excited to have school gym equipment in our backyard. I had no idea how much I was going to enjoy climbing those ropes…

Read on…

What’s your orgasm history?

Edited: November 24th, 2012

Female Orgasm Anxiety

A great question about female orgasm from a “new” lesbian, that applies to women of any sexual orientation.

A letter to Dr. Betty Dodson:

Hmmm where to start. Purge. After years of very bad sex with men – quick and fulfilling for one, I discovered my clitoris (with your help) and that I really like girls. I’m very proficient at sex for one, but that’s quick also. Now I have a lovely girl in my life I find the attention and pressure to orgasm too much.

She’s happy, she loves me, and we have lovely times together but I can’t orgasm. She says I need to learn to slow down. I try not to think too much and just enjoy but I can’t help thinking she’s getting bored. I’m ruining this beautiful thing because being the centre of attention freaks me out.

- V

Dear V,

Sounds like you’re suffering from a case of “pleasure anxiety.” Listen to what your GF said about “slowing down.” All heterosexual women struggle with the issue of taking too much time so you need to understand the problem. Straight sex is still based on the male model of sexual arousal. For the most part, men can get turned on quickly and climax easily (often too fast for us) so many women have been conditioned to “hurry up” during partner sex but that rarely results in a full satisfying orgasm.

I suggest the two of you share masturbation together. That way you can both observe the technique you each use for your orgasms. If she’s not “doing you” and you have control of your clitoris, once you have an orgasm in front of her the problem might simply go away. So stop being such a “drama queen” and understand that she enjoys being with and pleasuring you.

Dr. Betty

Masturbating together is great for couples of any sexual orientation – it can be sexy to watch your partner do themselves plus you’ll learn what they enjoy.

Edited: November 12th, 2012

Tantra and Masturbation: My First “Tantric” Experience?

I recently had a crazy “spiritual” experience during masturbation. I’ve been told it isn’t tantra, but I’ll call it tantra for lack of a better term.

I gave myself an evening off an decided to masturbate. I played with my vibrator for maybe an hour and had an orgasm. It was enjoyable, but not quite satisfying. I started back up, when I became aware I was going toward a pattern I recently observed – when I keep going after an orgasm, I’m usually TRYING to have a second. And though I can usually get the job done, TRYING is not satisfying. So I decided I didn’t care about an orgasm and was just going to play around.

I messed around with a new cyberskin dildo I like because its about the size of my husband’s dick. I tried different sensations of moving it in and out, keeping it in, and holding it at different depths of my pussy. I added on the vibrator, trying different areas and amounts of pressure. After awhile I landed on some magically perfect combination of the two, and felt something I never have before.

It was a sensation was of pure pleasure – no fear, no anxiety, no guilt, no fantasy – just intense pleasure, located on one specific spot on the left side of my clit. I tensed up all my muscles, as is my body’s typical response to something feeling good. Normally I would hold my breath as well, trying to move as little as possible to hold on to the feeling (which only sort of works anyway). But this time I consciously breathed while I focused all my attention on that specific spot. Tantra is about using breath to connect to your body and prolong pleasure.

What was already quite amazing turned into a sort of hallucinogenic experience. For a brief moment it felt as if my entire physical body had curled up into itself in this spot. I felt as if my body was that spot and nothing else. It was short, but momentarily time stopped. It was as though I lived my entire life in that moment; I was born in it and would die in it, only there was no death to speak of. It just… was, for lack of a better description. With my next breath I felt a wave of this deep intense feeling wash down from my head to my toes. Then I got excited about what had just happened and lost all focus, laughing to myself.

It was the most physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually fulfilling experience I may have ever had. It felt so deep I could have stopped then and felt more satisfied than if I’d had 10 orgasms. I didn’t stop – I located the spot a couple more times, only after relaxing myself and being completely okay with whether I found it or not. No trying here, just allowing my body to let go and feel it if it was there to feel.

If this is tantra, awesome. If its not…whatever it was, I’m thankful I experienced it.

Edited: June 18th, 2012

Reader Question: Is My Pussy Too Small to Fit a Penis?

Got a question from a young woman this week, concerned that a dick won’t fit into her pussy:

I’m 19 years old and still a virgin (saving it!). I had always been interested to sex, I’ve been watching movies and porns for the sake of pleasure since I’m not getting it, I can’t get it for now. As I’ve seen on those things that I watched, it seems like my pussy is quite small than the usual. My mom is also telling me this before. It’s quite small, maybe because of the thing that I do whenever I feel horny, it’s either I put something in between my legs then clasp, or just my legs alone squeezing my pussy til i’m off. Now, I’m worried if a penis can fit in to it? It’s like a pussy of a 6 years old, it looks like. Ugh. Can a penis fit on my pussy? I’m really worried by this, :(

My response:
Pussies come in all sizes and shapes, so its possible yours is on the smaller end. I imagine you mean the opening of the vagina (the hole) is smaller than what you’ve seen on porn. Keep in mind that vaginas are very flexible – they’re made to stretch so wide a baby’s head can fit through, so chances are yours will be able to accommodate a penis.

Since you’re a virgin, I recommend playing with fingers or a dildo to stretch it open. It does loosen up a bit with penetration, so practice is the best way to make sure a penis can fit (and fit in a way that it feels good!). If you’re not doing so already, start with a finger, build up to 2 or 3, and work your way up to an average sized dildo. Once that fits in fine, you can try bigger toys if you’re feeling adventurous.

The way you masturbate won’t make it small, but if you’re tensing and squeezing the muscles very tight in that area, it can also make penetration more difficult. Try doing yoga or stretching out in the hip and thigh area, as this will relax your pussy as well. You can also do kegel exercises, squeezing your PC muscles (the vagina muscles) and holding for 10 seconds, then relaxing for 10 seconds. Repeat 10 times, 1-3 times per day. For you, the relaxation is the most important part. I used masturbate the same way, and stretching+kegels have helped me learn to relax the area.

Edited: January 23rd, 2012

Masturbation as Empowerment


Say YES to Pleasure and Masturbation

Academia is full of mental masturbation. Physical masturbation, not so much.

Academics notoriously distance themselves from their own sexuality (ask me how I know…). Jessi Fischer, the “Sexademic,” is taking a different path. With a Master of Arts in Sexuality Studies from San Francisco State University, she spoke of her “agenda” at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland:
“I grew up in a world where pleasure wasn’t something I thought I could have. My body was shameful and not really meant for me. When I was able to change my frame of reference and identify my own desires, I felt empowered. Being able to enjoy my own body changed everything I thought I knew about the world. I want to help people do that in whatever capacity works for them. I want to lift the social weights that preclude them from that experience.”

More mental masturbation here.

Edited: December 5th, 2011

I <3 Female Masturbation

Growing up, I knew I couldn’t be the only one masturbating, but not ONE of my friends ever mentioned it. Neither did I. In fact, I told my first boyfriend I didn’t. He said he didn’t either. Liars!

See, I knew he probably did. As Ashley Fryer says, “The world knows men masturbate.” Hello, American Pie. How many movies and TV shows crack jokes at young boys jerking off?

To my recollection, I’ve seen two movies that show a woman masturbating. The first was in Not Another Teen Movie. The scene was a parody of She’s All That and American Pie combined. The second was a seriously hot scene in Secretary, where she masturbates in the bathroom after her boss spanks her for yet another typing mistake.

If I knew other girls masturbated, I don’t think I’d have felt such shame about it. My typical masturbation practice was to get to the point (orgasm) as fast as possible. Then when I was done, I’d immediately get up and do something non-sexual, like my homework. As if I were pretending I hadn’t done it in the first place.

Fryer writes, And really, this is just one tiny part of a much bigger conversation about female sexuality. But for the sake of women everywhere, for whom masturbation is a healthy part of their sex lives, I’m begging the world to get a grip. To the women of the world, I say this: reclaim the rights to your own vaginas. Masturbation is a healthy and happy part of sexuality. It’s a headache cure, a muscle relaxant and an instant high. It’s like cake with no calories. And let’s be honest, if you don’t know what’s going on down there, an inexperienced man hasn’t got a hope in hell. So please, take ownership of your sexuality and let’s stop subscribing to this strange and damaging notion that masturbation is anything other than brilliant.

Edited: November 22nd, 2011

From Childhood to Adult Sexuality: Honoring Where I’m At

When I was little I would get off by laying belly-down on the floor and rocking myself to stimulate my clitoris… It only took me about 30 seconds to come that way… I realized that that isn’t normal. So I stopped masturbating that way…A few nights ago, I stayed up very late masturbating and finally had an orgasm…I think. This one didn’t seem right either because it literally took me about 4 hours to get there and my clit felt kind of sore the next day. I have tried masturbating again a few times, for about an hour each time, but it seems like I’m going nowhere fast and I just give up before I orgasm.

To this, Betty Dodson replies,

Your old method of getting off is quite common… There is no such thing as “normal” but all kinds of habits can be common, unusual or really strange… The body hasn’t had enough time to build up sexual tension so any release will be mild or insignificant. Most important is to give your body time to get used to a new form of stimulation. As you practice awakening your clitoris to using your fingers, be sure to use plenty of massage oil on your vulva especially your clitoris. And re-apply regularly. If you don’t feel anything happening after a couple of hours, just stop. It’s OK to finish off with your old technique so you can relax.

My boyfriend broke his right arm as a teenager. He’s a righty. It took him several days of “hard work” to jack off to orgasm using his left hand.

A few times in the past couple years, I tried to just quit my childhood masturbation method cold turkey. I figured if he could change his method, I could change mine too. One problem – he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to enjoy himself. I did. I’d inevitably get sexually frustrated and get myself off the only way I knew how. Then I’d feel guilty, like I was ruining my own sexual development. I wanted to orgasm another way to better share myself with a partner, and I saw my experience as a personal failure.

So thanks, Betty, for reinforcing what I discovered on my own: play with new ways of enjoying myself. Play all I want. And if I want an orgasm at the end, switch to the old skool method. Sometimes I can bring myself very close to orgasm in my childhood way, then quickly move my body to a new position and come anew. Getting pissed that a new way isn’t “working” makes sex a frustrating chore.

I made a promise to myself. Not explicitly, not aloud, but one I see through my behavior. I promised to honor my own pleasure in whatever form it comes. Only when I appreciate how good my body does feel, however it feels it, will my sexual pleasure expand. Wanting leads to wanting. Having leads to having.

Edited: November 13th, 2011

Self-Censorship: “the worst repression”

In Sex for One: The Joy of Selfloving, Betty Dodson writes:


As a creative person, I’d consistently struggled against social restrictions and censorship. However, the worst repression was the kind of censorship I’d been taught to apply to myself: “What will people think?”


We’re so concerned about what others (might) think that we stop ourselves from being real.  That fear is so pronounced in relation to sexuality, we even stop ourselves when we’re alone and nobody’s there to judge.  We judge ourselves.  Sociologists would say we create a “generalized other” in our minds.  That is, we act based on what we think others would think, even by ourselves.


That’s why masturbation is so important. Dodson’s first book was called Liberating Masturbation. When we’re truly loving and connecting with ourselves, despite social norms that tell us not to, masturbation is liberation.

Not that its a piece of cake to overcome self-repression.  But freedom is in the mind, whether its political freedom or sexual freedom — when we can simply be, that’s when we’re free.

Edited: October 26th, 2011

Objectifying my boyfriend turns me on: Clone-a-Willy

I lay on my belly, hands holding my pink vibrator on my clit, staring at my boyfriend’s dick.  He was taking a nap in the other room, but his cock was staring me in the face.  I brought it in the bedroom with me in case I felt like penetration.  I didn’t.


I gave myself a half an hour simply to be in my body.  That was my only goal.  But I also felt like having an orgasm, and as usual was having trouble focusing.  Until I opened my eyes and saw it.


First, I wanted to put it in my mouth and suck on it while I played with my clit.  Then I remembered the horrible taste – I don’t know what’s in this dildo, but its got the worst flavor of any toy I’ve ever used.  So that was out.  Then I imagined myself being fucked… but I didn’t want to move, either.  I was enjoying the position I was in.


So I masturbated gazing at his clone-a-cock, wanting it in me but unable to have it.  I’ve got a thing for pleasure denial.  I focused on the patterns of his skin, the tiny grooves and creases I don’t usually notice on the real thing.  My eyes followed the ridge of his circumcision and the part of foreskin that looks like it wasn’t cut properly.  I breathed, amazed at the beauty of this… thing lying on the bed next to me.  The literal objectification of my boyfriend’s penis – that I want in me, on me, around me, all over me – that I’d have a threesome foursome fivesome moresome with if somehow I could clone him.


I was aroused by my own arousal, by my yearning for his dick – fake and real.  I came easily.  I savored the contractions that continued even after the peak of orgasm had passed.


How ironic that objectifying him eased my anxiety, brought me into the present, enhanced my arousal and brought me to orgasm.  He doesn’t mind being objectified.  I see it as a compliment to him, that I don’t want anything else in my pussy except his dick, whether or not he’s there.  Funny how feminists never seem to “problematize” realistic dildos.

Edited: October 25th, 2011

My fingers smell like pussy but I didn’t feel my orgasm: on disassociation

I’ve had a tendency since childhood to disassociate during masturbation or sex.  I’ve never been sexually assaulted – let’s get that out of the way.  I had a therapist once who was convinced I must have been molested.  She wanted me to ask my parents if I had an uncle who touched me inappropriately.  I never did.  I didn’t need to.  Plus, talk about an awkward conversation, right?  Therapists love to smash people into their little boxes.


Nonetheless, I’ve carried the memory of a few early experiences that left me feeling shame, guilt, and anxiety regarding sex.  As do many Americans.  Add to that a traumatic gynecological problem – ta da!  My own personal recipe for disassociation.


Here’s what it looked like tonight:

I’ve been reading Betty Dodson’s Sex for One, feeling I’d benefit from more masturbation (who wouldn’t?).  I lay down in bed and set the intention to myself – I’m just going to feel my body.  That’s it.


The next 1-1.5 hours I struggled with myself to pay attention to my actions.  To focus on my breathing, in the tantric way T.A. taught me.  Or on the pleasant feelings in my clit and outer lips.  What I did was a hybrid between my usual childhood masturbation practice and the typical “homework” in how-to-have-better-sex books.  I caught my mind wandering to anxious thoughts and I pulled it back.  Overall, it was pretty enjoyable.


I had an orgasm.  At the height of the sensation, I remembered I had more in my bank account than I thought, due to some accounting issues.  Now, I’m glad I remembered that, of course.  Perhaps another time would have been better though.


The fact that I can articulate this – that I even recognize what’s going on – shows I’m becoming less disassociated… more associated in my body.

Edited: October 20th, 2011

From Fantasy to Reality

This was written a couple weeks ago:

I’m in the process of writing a guide on how to play with fetishes, and it occurred to me one day that I should follow my own advice.  I pulled out my journal and wrote down a few of my most frequent sexual fantasies.  Most I’ve dabbled with but haven’t quite made come to life yet in the way I want.  I made a short list with bullet points of what turned me on and why.  As I looked over my list, I decided it was time to really indulge one of the oldest fantasies on the list – being a submissive, tied up and forced to be pleasured in the way I want.  And then ravaged however he wants.


I ran the general idea by my boyfriend.  “How do you feel about having a date night where I’m your slave?”  I fumbled my way around describing my idea, because even though I knew he’d be down, I was nervous.  Talking is the first step to making it real, and I haven’t made it fully real yet because I’ve been uncomfortable with my own desires.  I told him I’d like if I played the role the entire night and I came up with things for him to make me do in advance (that way he’d know how I want to be submissive, and he wouldn’t have to guess).  He loves my dirty mind, and of course agreed.  Over the next few days, my perverted brain dreamed up different scenarios and evaluated them in terms of my comfort, the logistics of making it happen, and my own ability to communicate what I want.  A day or two before our date night, I told him the basics of what I want: he puts my leash and collar on me, picks out clothes for me to wear out, we go out to eat and he picks out what I have, and then we come home, he ties me up, and plays with my pussy.  I should record myself talking like this sometime, because it certainly didn’t come out as clear as I’ve written it.  I want you readers to understand that this communication thing isn’t easy for me, just like it isn’t easy for almost everyone else I’ve been with.


So date night rolls around, and I’m still stuffed from my sister’s birthday lunch.  I can adapt.  He’s hungry though.  And I just realized I don’t have enough rope to tie all of my limbs up the way I want.  I suggest the following: how about he leashes and dresses me up, takes me out to the sex shop to buy under-the-bed restraints, and then we come back and play.  His response was – (a) he’s hungry so when’s the eating going to happen, and (b) he’s not so sure about going to the sex store with my leash.  He’d be fine doing that at a bar or a party, but not at a store.  I counter that going out in public is part of the fantasy, but he’s just not feeling it.  Okay fine, I’m adaptable.  I sat on the couch in silence for a few minutes and came up with some scenarios we could do just at home.  I tell him this, and he shares an idea of his own – how about he makes dinner for himself while I make donut dough (we just got a deep fryer and we’re on a donut-making kick. highly recommended), which has been his “job” up until now.  Then when we’re done, we can fry up the donuts together and enjoy.  Yum.


So together we build the plot for my fantasy.  First we’ll go to the sex shop as “regular” people to get the supplies I want.  When we get home he’ll put on my leash and lead me crawling around the house.  I want him to pick out something sexy to wear and make me do something sexual to set the mood.  I leave that up to him – sucking his dick, licking his feet or his ass, putting my jewel butt plug in my ass, whatever.  Then we’ll move to the kitchen, where he’ll me how to make the donuts, since I don’t actually know how.  Ooh, I get to obey orders.  Yay.  I have to ask him permission to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water.  And when he’s done eating, he’ll take me into the bedroom, restrain me, and have at it.


We got the basics down, but next I had to tell him what I wanted to happen once I was tied up.  Here’s been the challenge for me — I have crazy fantasies, but I never fantasize about receiving pleasure.  Its all the build up and the general scenario, but because I rarely orgasm from interacting with other people, its hard to imagine what would make me feel good.  Actually, its the other way around – because I don’t see myself getting pleasure from other people, I don’t get it.  That’s what this night is about – forcing myself to be in the position where I have to receive.


I give him a general rundown of what I want, but basically say to try playing with my pussy in different ways and seeing how I react.  I want him to start off light and teasing (I LOVE being teased) and build up to fingering me or eating my pussy.  I’d love if he had me restrained and then left me there by myself for a little bit, so I wouldn’t know when he was coming back.  I tell him not to fuck my pussy because there’s a chance I may be fertile right now and I don’t want to take the risk.  Now, I have no idea how this will go.  It could be amazing or it could be horrible.  However, I want to keep character regardless, so I give myself an out.  If/when I’m over it at some point, I’ll say switch and I’ll do whatever he wants me to do.  That way we both get off to my being submissive.


And so it begins.  We go to the sex shop and buy under-the-bed restraints and, on a whim, a ball gag.  I brought up the idea, but apparently he’d imagined me baking wearing a ball gag.  Great minds think alike, right?


We get home and prepare for the night, setting up the restraints and trying out the ball gag.  Its actually too big for my head, so he plays around with it, experimenting with making it smaller.  He’s great at Macgyvering things up.


So now its time to actually begin.  He tightens the leash around my neck, and walks me into the bedroom.  He picks out my white fishnet dress, pink thong panties that make my ass look amazing (he’s got an ass fetish himself), and pink and white knee socks.  I’m nervous and I put on the clothes he’s chosen.  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, as he pulls his dick out and tells me to suck it.  I take it in my mouth and suck.  So far I don’t feel much different than I normally would giving a blowjob – a bit distracted, somewhat aroused, trying to focus on what’s right in front of me.  But I go with it (I DO love sucking his dick).  After a couple minutes he starts unbuttoning his pants.  What’s he doing?  Is he going to fuck my ass right now?  The not-knowing brings me into the moment and I start feeling it.  He steps back to pull his dick out of my mouth, turns around and pulls his pants down.  “Lick my ass,” he orders, bending over slightly.  I scooch myself up higher on my knees to reach.  Before licking, I press my nostrils against his asshole and inhale.  It smells like him, like a dirty, funky, sweaty version of his body aroma.  Scents are an evolutionary turn-on, you know.  We’re attracted to people who smell different from our families to ensure genetic diversity.  Obviously that doesn’t always work out, but he and I must have quite different genes because his smell is intoxicating to me.  I run my tongue around the edges of his asshole.  My tongue flicks the opening to his hole, and I stick my tongue in just enough that I can taste the almost metallic flavor of the smooth lining of the anal canal.


He’s had enough, refastening his pants.  He tells me to stand up and leads me into our kitchen.  At first I wish he made me crawl in there, but then I remember we have tile floor that hasn’t been cleaned in god knows how long, so I go with it.  He hooks the end of my leash to one of the arm restraints he’d attached earlier and says nobody is allowed to touch it except him.  There’s nobody else here, but I suddenly feel like his property and my heart begins to pound harder.  He tells me how to make the donuts, and tells me to wipe off the counter when I’m done.  We hadn’t discussed that, and I’m surprised that the idea of cleaning for him is turning me on.  Normally I like things being clean, but I hate cleaning.  I’m a perfectionist, and whenever I try I never feel like its good enough, so why bother?  But now I have to clean for somebody else.  Its not about my unrealistic standards.  Its about him.


He starts to make his dinner, and I remind him to gag me up.  Reminding him kills the mood for me momentarily, but its all good.  I go with the flow.  Now I can’t talk, so as I mix up the ingredients I have to use hand motions to ask questions.  Drool is spilling down my chin, though not into the dough.  Not that I’d really care.  My mind is distracted, thinking about work, my family, something on TV yesterday – regular things I’d normally ponder while cooking.  I keep reminding myself that this is my fantasy, that I’m making these donuts FOR HIM.  It helps me stay present and over time I remind myself less and less.  I’m becoming his slave.


He’s becoming my master too.  He starts talking to me like we normally would while in the kitchen, about something political – I don’t even remember what.  I make noises in response, but can’t say anything and nor do I want to.  I start feeling annoyed that he’s talking to me like normal, but realize I didn’t tell him not to so I can’t be upset.  And even if I did, so what?  A one-sided conversation doesn’t last that long anyway, and he quiets down after he finishes his story.  Next time, I think to myself, I’ll tell him the only things he should say to me are orders, compliments, complimentary insults (slut), and anything sexual.  I refocus on the task at hand – making him donuts, and I come back to the present.


When I finish the dough, I wipe up the area of the counter he told me to clean.  And I’m surprisingly enjoying it.  I’m enjoying being his kitchen slave so much I clean up the stove and another section of the counter he didn’t ask.  At this point he’s done cooking and is sitting down on the couch in front of the TV, eating.  With slobber dripping down my chin, I rub the grease and grime off the stove, thinking to myself how I’m cleaning for my master.  I think to myself that maybe we should try this more often, and I’ll get my pussy excited and a clean house.  Who knew I could have both from the same activity?  I see that I don’t mind housework, as long as its appreciated.  And the promise of pussy play definitely shows me appreciation.  :)


When I’m done I walk into the living room, wishing I’d told him to instruct my every move.  I kneel down on the floor in front of him, watching him eat.  I motion with my head to the bathroom, and he asks if I have to go #1 or #2.  I hold up 1 finger.  He asks how bad I have to go.  I shrug my shoulders.  I want to go before we start playing with my pussy, but I can wait.  He says I have to wait then, that he wants it to feel really good when I finally go.  I’m on the floor kneeling on my legs, and I’m in my role.  Even though I don’t have to go that bad, knowing I can’t is making me horny.  I start rocking back and forth, stimulating my inner pussy muscles and clit without touching them.  My boyfriend thinks I’m doing this because I have to pee, and after a few minutes gives me permission to go.  I can’t correct him with my gag on, but it doesn’t really matter anyway.  I still want to go before the real action starts.  I go pee and when I wipe, the toilet paper is wet with pussy juice.  I hope to myself it’ll come back.  There have been times when I’ve wiped my wetness away and the mere act of doing that was a turn-off.  But I was determined to be fully turned ON today, so I decided not to worry about it.  Be in the moment.  Be the slave, and it will come.


He finishes his dinner, and I take his plate into the kitchen without him asking.  Note to self: I definitely want to be ordered to do this.  I point to my gag and he asks if I want it removed.  I’d told him earlier I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it on – it makes the jaw quite sore, like I’d popped some X earlier (I wish).  He takes it off and leads me into the bedroom on my hands and knees.  I climb onto the bed while he fastens my restraints to the bed.  I’m spread eagle and at his mercy.


He sits on the bed between my legs, looking at me, almost like he’s plotting his next move.  Probably is – I hadn’t given him that clear of instructions for this part, so a lot of the action was up to him.  He lightly ran his fingers up and down my thighs and pussy area, relaxing me, reminding me to be present.  He proceeds to play with my pussy in ways he’s never done before.  I still have my panties on, and he teases the fuck out of me by waving his hands in front of my pussy *almost* touching it, just *barely* grazing it here and there.  I lift my hips as high as I can to meet his hands, as he pulls them just out of my pussy’s reach.  Yes, this is what I wanted, yet I never would have come up with this.  Points for my master.  He kisses my thighs and lightly licks my clit.  He tickles my feet, something I suggested he try earlier.  I’ve known there’s something about my feet that seems to be linked directly to my vagina, but haven’t experimented with it much.  His light touch makes me laugh and squirm.


He pulls his dick out of his boxer briefs (my new favorite underwear for him) and lightly rubs it around my vulva, teasing the opening and pulling back.  Its all about pulling back, giving a little then taking it away, more and more and more until I can’t stand it.  That’s what my pussy wants, and I’ve known for a long time but didn’t feel comfortable with it.  I didn’t know how to communicate it.  I didn’t think he or any guys wanted to play that way.  After all, his dick definitely wasn’t getting off on this, though it was hard most of the time (from what I could see).  I see how I’ve pushed my desires aside because of my own hangups + stupid social norms that tell me sex is what makes a dick cum (even though I’ve spent countless hours reading and teaching about how this isn’t the case).  And I can’t help but note the irony of coming to this realization while I’m playing slave.  How its taken completely giving myself over to someone else (a man, in particular) to understand and experience what my body wants.


These thoughts are floating through my mind – can’t experience anything without my own commentary, it sometimes seems.  But I’m largely focused on my pussy, on the experience, since I can’t move anywhere anyway.  I feel how I want him to stop, but I don’t really want him to stop.  I feel how I’d normally push away my own pleasure, how I tend to rush past building up my own arousal because I’m so concerned about his (and so uncomfortable with mine).  I feel it because I can’t change the activity, I’m at his mercy.  I want to tell him to just fuck me anyway, even though my mental fertility alert was high, even though its not really what I wanted in the long run (not that I wouldn’t love it).  But I let the resistance pass.  And pass.  And pass.  It comes in waves, but when I focus on my breathing and my pussy I come back to present.


He builds up my arousal, then gets off the bed and leaves me there.  He’ll be back.  I know he’s going to sit on the couch, smoke a bowl, and watch TV for a few minutes before returning.  I know him.  But I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, or even how much time is passing.  Its probably only a few minutes, but the not-knowing… yeah, I like that.  I’m laying across the bed, and focusing on my breathing, on techniques I read about in Barbara Carellas’ Urban Tantra.  I’m not completely focused, but I’m somewhat there, so I think its helping.  I get distracted when one of our cats jumps on the bed, purring.  She has a great habit of being a little monkey, getting in the middle of whatever’s going on, and today’s no different.  She’s got to check out the situation and rub her purring face all over it, or in this case – me.  I giggle as I see that the universe will always send potential distractions to your “goals,” but the key is to stay focused on what I want.  And what I want is for my pussy to feel things its rarely or never experienced before.


My master returns, and laughs at our silly kitty who’s rolling over on my left side, in the space between my arm and leg.  He gets back to business, now using the cold chain of my leash against my clit, dropping it lightly down (panties pulled aside) to barely touch the hood, sending chills down my spine.  He rubs and licks the outer lips of my pussy, where the legs of the clitoris extend down toward the perineum.  He pulls the leash so my neck must sit up, and I watch him masturbating.  Is he doing this because he likes it, or is he going to do something with his cock?  I love not knowing, and I love watching him jerk off, so I’m happy whatever happens.  He loosens his grip on his dick and places the black leather leash handle around it.  He puts his dick inside my panties (still on), and gives me space to rub my pussy up, down, and around it as much as I’m able while strapped to the bed.  I experiment with the moves I’m able to make, and quickly become tired – these are muscles I’m not used to using.  My arousal is going down, but I’m committed to doing what he wants and giving it my all, so I keep going.  After several minutes, he pulls away – my pube stubble is chafing him.  I tell him my pussy wants to be filled up, half hoping he’ll shove his dick in there anyway, even though I told him not to.  He knows me, real well.  He positions himself almost sideways, so he can get his cock inside, and slowly works his way in.  I’m moaning with excitement, all the while worrying about his precum and knowing this would distract me from my pleasure “goal.”  Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I think by that point we were both losing steam.


He does listen to me though.  He pulls his dick out after a  minute or two, because of the instructions I’d given him earlier.  I ask him to finger me – not very slave-like, and I make a mental note to tell him: next time more penetration, maybe with a dildo too.  Because holy shit did it feel amazing.  Even though I was almost losing interest, my body was already turned on enough that I jump into present as his fingers work my g-spot.  Normally, I’d pull back after a minute or two because the sensation is so intense.  Its not an option this time, and I’m thankful.  The restraints give me something to push and pull against; I try to get away and am aroused by the fact that I can’t.  It forces me to accept what he’s doing to my body and to enjoy it.  I breathe.  I breathe to relax my pussy, and as I do I felt it open, dripping wet.  He works my g-spot for several minutes, as I overcome several urges to scream STOP!  I accept the pleasure, and I even feel my pussy muscles contract a few times around his fingers.  Not an orgasm, but definitely on the right path.  Of course, the moment I notice this I’m pulled out of the situation, which sets me back.  But that’s okay, because what else can I do except get back in.  I want to be in my role, and I’m determined that my body will feel, for once.  So I relax, breathe, and feel the warmth emanate from a place deep inside me I can’t quite pinpoint.


After awhile, his hand gets tired.  I don’t blame him, especially in that position.  And by then I was overwhelmed with the sensation, so I welcomed the break.  Perhaps this means I needed more, I needed to push past this wall of resistance too.  Next time, I think to myself, we’ll play with a dildo more to save his fingers.  Maybe save them for last – my favorite.  He curls them up just right inside my pussy, I can feel it now as I’m typing.


I tell him I’ll do whatever he want now, so he unhooks my restraints from the bed and fastens them to themselves – right arm to left leg and vice versa.  I’m in a weird little doggy style ball, and my hands are right at my pussy.  He expertly works his dick into my ass, licking my hole, making sure there’s enough spit, pushing it in, telling me to squeeze, and pulling it back out.  Lather, rinse, repeat as needed.  He’s great at ass fucking, let me tell you.  He builds up to some hardcore butt fucking while I play with my clit  I can feel his cock pushing against my g-spot through the wall of my anal canal, wanting him to pound it with all his strength (and he’s pretty strong).  Its not as intense as being fingered, its not (yet) orgasm-worthy, but it feels great.  He comes, pretty much all over the bed.  See normally he comes in my mouth, but I’m tangled in my bondage gear and can’t get into position fast enough.  Eh, I don’t care.  We’ll wash the sheets…eventually.  He unhooks me and we both lay there panting, telling each other “I love you” and what a great time we just had.  We’re very appreciative of one another – that’s a big reason we have such amazing sex.  We leave the room to clean up (I’ve got gobs of spit in and around my asshole), and when done I pull him back to the bedroom.  I want to masturbate to orgasm, and I want him with me.


I place a condom on my clone-a-willy of his dick.  Its the only dildo I regularly play with – my favorite shape and size.  It doesn’t wash well and gives me yeast infections, so I have to use a condom.  Besides, the material is a bit rough, so the condom smooths it out.  I digress.  My pussy is wet and open; it slides in easily.  I’m so horny it only takes a few minutes, laying on my back with my legs close together.  While I love the sensation of being fucked, when I masturbate I hold the dildo inside me and pulse it up against my g-spot.  I do this with my left hand, while my right presses against my vulva, or more accurately – my body pushes my vulva up against my hand.  He lays with his armpit near my face, and I breathe in the smell of his sex sweat while I cum.  I lay there for a minute, then do it again.


The whole night came down to those two orgasms.  Here’s the challenge, so to speak, of my body.  We spent the whole night exciting my pussy, and yet my orgasms were somewhat anticlimactic.  I feel my pattern of disassociation, where I stop feeling it just as I cum.  It feels amazing right before, almost at the peak of pleasure, my body yearning to let go and feel it reverberate through my entire being.  Yet as I cross over into the o-zone, the tingly warm fuzziness fades.  My pussy contracts – I feel that the orgasm has happened.  I feel somewhat satisfied.  I’m still horny, but my energy is drained.  Nonetheless, I’m thankful for my orgasms.  Grateful to have some release.  In the past there have been months, maybe years, where I felt none.


Its donut time anyway.


All in all, a great night.  I’ve spent the last two days telling him how amazing it was.  Both in general, and specific points.  Positive reinforcement works wonders.


We’ll definitely do this again.  I’m already coming up with things for me to clean (that stack of dishes isn’t getting any smaller), and now that we’ve done it once we can refine our roles more clearly.  It was an awesome feeling to trust him – to give him complete control over my body, and for him to respect it, playing by my rules.  I don’t know how other couples do it, but in my experience the sub role is really the one in charge.  The sub sets the limits; the dom weaves a tapestry of pleasure for the sub, bringing them close then pulling them back, so the sub can simply experience.  At least, that’s what being submissive means to me.


As I finished up the above paragraph, my boyfriend came in to see me lying on my stomach, naked on the bed.  He called me by one of my 40 vajillion pet names, spread my ass cheeks, and smelled and licked my asshole.  He pulled my body up so he could lick my clit as I grinded (ground? ha) my pussy against his face.  I love my life.


Edited: September 26th, 2011