Here’s a sex advice question that comes to us via the UK’s Guardian:
I am a 23-year-old man and am obsessed with celebrity culture. Whenever I have sex with my girlfriend, I insist that she must wear a mask of one of the female celebrities who really turn me on, such as Billie Piper or Kimberley Walsh. My girlfriend isn’t too impressed with this, but goes along with it anyway. However, when she wants me to have sex with her when she is not wearing a mask, I don’t think I can, because I can only get turned on by the celebrities.
I think I can speak for all of us when I say WHAT?! Keep reading »
With every New Year comes a new round of technological gadgets that are supposed to make our lives easier. Not only do they usually do that, but after awhile someone realizes that on top of bringing us closer — communication wise — and making the world seem smaller, the aforementioned gadgets are actually really handy when it comes to pornography.
Whether you need a porn fix while you’re on-the-go, or you want to direct your own personal skin-flick, 2013 has some technology to help you do just that. Read more…
It’s no surprise that using a lubricant can enhance your sex life. But what about the rest of your love life — communication, emotional attachment, and intimacy beyond the bedroom? Writer Amanda Green talked to three women about life before and after lube to find out how they came to start using lubricant and how it changed their love and sex lives. What they had to say may surprise you! Read more…
It was after L left and I looked in the mirror that I realized I might have a problem. My breasts and neck were covered in bruises and bite marks. One was even bleeding; that would leave a scar. I was heading to my parents’ house in two days for Christmas, and although I knew I could cover the mess that had been made of my boobs, my neck was going to be a different story. If I had a stockpile of turtlenecks, it would have been one thing, but I’m just not a turtleneck type of girl.
When I first started dating, I knew that I liked to be bitten. There was something both sensual and animalistic about it that I couldn’t help but be enticed by. When I masturbated it was always something I thought about: that aggressive devouring that would leave battle scars. However, high school, and even college guys, were hesitant to rock the boat in their sexual performances. So, when I’d whisper, “Bite my neck,” I would either end up with sad little hickeys or their efforts would be so weak that I would never bother to ask again. There’s nothing worse than a weak bite. Keep reading »
When friend had mentioned she’d been to sex parties, I knew I wanted to go, too. Could she bring me along next time, if it wouldn’t be too weird? As it turns out, she would soon be hosting one at her very own house. Sure enough, an invitation came in my email a few days later, sternly worded emphasis on consent.
In preparation, I treated the sex party as if was a date — a group date, of sorts, where I was sure to get laid. So I did what I’d do before a normal date: I shaved the winter fur off my legs, blowdried my mane, and did my eye makeup real fancy. I squeezed into a sequin Forever 21 dress that I first/last wore at a club on my 24th birthday party, then unrolled it off like sausage casing when I realized I couldn’t breathe. I tried on my sweetest LBD and chucked that aside, too, for not being “sexy” enough. I’m supposed to look fuckable at an orgy, right? I’m a slightly overweight feminist WASP with eczema on my ankles. The Victoria’s Secret definition of fuckable isn’t really my look. I settled on jeans, boots, and a gorgeous silk blouse over some pretty lingerie.
Worrying so much about how I looked was a colossal waste of time. Keep reading »