When my first love and I broke up, I was still new to the world of sex. I was 22 years old when we said our tearful goodbye, knowing full well that what we had at that young age wouldn’t be able to transcend time. I remember thinking I’d not only never love again, but never, ever have sex again either. Sometimes I really miss the equal parts drama and naivety that comes with youth.
As a way to cope with the loss, I set up camp on my couch with endless supplies of veggie burgers and Ben & Jerry’s, and drowned my sorrows in “Beverly Hills, 90210″ reruns. I still contend that Emily Valentine really was one of the highlights of the show, and I have the months of obsessively watching it as scientific evidence. I also saw a wee bit of myself in her.
After a few years had passed, I started dating men here and there, having superficial flings steeped in alcohol as the common denominator, and by the time I moved to New York City, casual sex was all I was really interested in. It was there for the offering, I knew I enjoyed it, at least most of the time, so why not take advantage of sexual opportunities that life presented me?
Then I fell in love again. Keep reading »
There’s nothing worse than being on a date, one that’s not too exciting, and just wishing it could end in sex. It’s as though you’re counting down the minutes, maybe even weighing the social graces of when it’s actually OK to mention that it’s time to head out and get it on somewhere. It kinda makes you wonder why you just didn’t skip the whole date thing and get straight to the fucking, doesn’t it? Besides, it’s not like you’re looking for love at the moment anyway.
Far too many people waste their time on chatter and getting to know someone when in reality they just want to bang. Even my friends who use hookup apps often complain to me that although both parties are well aware that they’re there to have sex, there’s this awkward period of sort of dancing around the inevitable. But why? Why is it so hard for us to just drop our pants and get right in there? Is it that ingrained that forging some superficial connection is a necessary step before a physical connection can be even broached? If so, un-train your brain and go for the jugular, sexually speaking, of course. You’re there to get down, so just do it already. Keep reading »
In a study called Who Benefits From Casual Sex? The Moderating Role of Sociosexuality, researchers found that, “having casual sex was associated with higher self-esteem and life satisfaction and lower depression and anxiety.” Read more on College Candy…
I hate admitting that I even have a bucket list in the first place, but I do and there are many things on it, and I hope to eventually cross
all most of them off. While I know “Yoko-ing” a band and becoming the muse for the fashion designer Nicolas Ghesquière, à la Charlotte Gainsbourg, are likely impossible to achieve, there are still some things that I must do before I die – if only to kill the curiosity within and gain some bragging rights. One such item on the aforementioned list is having sex in public. Why? I don’t know. The thrill, maybe; the been there, done that, need to check it off my list, even more so.
Having just recently updated my bucket list to include a public romp (and running the Boston Marathon — haha, I can’t even run a half-mile!), my new husband and I ventured off on our honeymoon. Italy is a country of love, art, and pizza, so what better a place to have sex in public? It’s not like we’d be the first to take a roll in the grass of Boboli Gardens (where we made our first attempt), nor will we be the last to have sex in a dully-lit alleyway against some ancient ruin in Rome.
My husband, already having done the whole public sex thing, wasn’t as enthused as I was. “It’s different when you’re younger,” he said. But that didn’t deter me. After a couple of minor debacles, we pulled it off like champs, well, as close to champions we’re personally able to be, and I can proudly say that my bucket list is one item lighter. Does this make me a pro? Hell no! But from my experience and the experience of some others, I now present the ultimate how-to guide for having sex in public. It’s the summer, you guys; let’s get the most out of this warm weather, shall we? Keep reading »
From the time I learned what fingering was at age 11, it sounded not that great to me, and that didn’t really change for about 15 years.
Even the idea of fingering (or “fingerbanging,” yikes) sounded bad. It almost didn’t occur to me that fingering would be something I would actually want. I’d even tried it myself but it was just left me bored and with a cramp in my hand. Certainly it did not stand up to the newly discovered pleasures of the shower head. But it was still something I expected to happen to me at some point, a natural progression like moonrise following sunset or whatever. Keep reading »
There comes a time in everybody’s dating career when your dance card suddenly becomes fuller than you know what to do with. One day, you’re swiping sullenly through Tinder bemoaning the lack of attractive, normal-seeming men that are possibly as tall as they say they are in their profiles, and the next, you find yourself drafting a spreadsheet to keep track of the nine dates that you have somehow booked for one week. Dating karma is like that. Like all things in life, your dating life will ebb and flow. Years of Sahara-like drought will give way to a summer full of eternal possibility, teeming with tapas dates and dinner dates and beach dates galore. One day, you’ll wake up in a daze, and find yourself with a bucket full of eligible, decent, good dudes, all clamoring for your attention.
“How could I possibly date two people, or even three people, when handling one person was too much?” you ask yourself as you scroll thru your texts one lazy Sunday. “How could it be that the universe is handing me such a Herculean task?”
Keep this in mind, dear reader. This embarrassment of riches is your prize for enduring countless shitty dates and rebuffing the advances of grody bros in I-banker loafers who are too drunk to see straight while you’re waiting in line for the bathroom. If you ever, ever feel bad about dating more than one person, remind yourself that if you were a dude, this behavior would be second nature. This is unfamiliar territory, and it is perfectly natural to have questions. Let me assuage your concerns. Here are a few tips and tricks for juggling two people — or more! — at once. Keep reading »