I am presently married, but before I reached this impressively adult position, however, I had my way with a series of gentleman across the fair island of Manhattan. I was a little late to the online dating game, and once I discovered it, look out! I had a date more than half the nights of the week. And, if I’m being honest, I slept with a decent number of them. What can I say? I’m a fan of the one-night stand.
One night stands, I think, are like that very, very rich piece of cheesecake: Delicious and a total treat, but if you had it every day, you’d be like, “Oh my god. I’m disgusting. I feel gross. I hate myself.” They’re not for every day, but they’re for sometimes. The key is in the approach. You need to practice moderation. You need to find the right guy with whom to do it. And the right guy is simple. He is someone you’re very attracted to and with whom you have zero interest in a relationship.
Now that I’ve laid the criteria for the gentleman with whom you want to have a one night stand, let me work to convince you further as to why you should indulge … Keep reading »
Is there anything more visceral than the words “hate” and “fuck?” Each triggers a distinct primitive heat that arises in the chest (well, perhaps in the groin for “fuck”). Without even having the word defined or a personal experience with hate fucking, the two words together almost immediately produce a visual that makes its meaning very clear. Hate fucking is expressing hate or anger towards another person through the act of sex. It titillates that odd part of the human brain where the infliction of pleasure and pain meet, though the act of hate-fucking isn’t necessarily so seedy or scary. One can hate fuck in a variety of contexts, the ugliest being quite literally, fucking someone you hate, or using sex to get out anger and aggression. As a partner once viciously put it: “I want to put my hate inside you.” HOT. Keep reading »
While watching your partner have sex with another person is common enough to play a vibrant role in swinging and orgies, and to spawn porn parodies like “One Flew Over the Cuckold’s Nest,” in general it’s safe to assume that a conversation regarding your partner’s sexual history rarely ends well. Recalling Amsterdam trips at 19 or drunken indiscretions with a married man upon moving to New York typically don’t make for the best dirty talk. While honesty is the best policy, exchanging such details in a new relationship often leaves you wishing you left them in your past like your Bob Marley wall tapestry rather than stamped on your present like the peace sign tattoo on your ass.
As a sex writer, I can attest to the usefulness of personal anecdotes in writing. (See: This article.) People tend to be more interested in learning about “sounding” (the practice of inserting objects up the urethra) when you can describe a British man exhibiting such a kink in your bed after a tea date than simply an interview with a sexologist on the practice standing alone. Less clinical, more relatable, with a punch of humor. “The truth is stranger than fiction” said Mark Twain, although I don’t think he was referring to pinkies up pee-holes. While the general population tends to appreciate such tales, the one reader group that grimaces, perhaps secondary to my parents, are my boyfriends. Keep reading »
I’ve always been a fan of lube, but until now, I’ve never really been a hardcore lube advocate. For years, I’ve kept a generous stash of KY in my underwear drawer for emergency purposes, and dive in when necessary. As a healthy, sexually active 27-year-old, I don’t usually have problems getting wet down there, but I do sometimes struggle with staying wet down there. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been lucky enough to regularly experience multiple orgasms during intercourse. But, like clockwork, once I have that first orgasm, my lady dam starts to dry up. Keep reading »
Welcome to our new weekly column Dater XY! Our anonymous MALE dater will be revealing the adventures and misadventures of finding love from a dude’s point of view. Let’s give him a big welcome!
With a high of four degrees and over a foot of snow, the weather was not fit for man nor beast. But I had a date, so off I went into the icy cold. I’d met The Teacher through an online dating site, like so many of us do these days. I had sent her a message to see if she wanted to share a drink, she accepted, and we met at one of my favorite restaurants.
Over dinner, we chatted about the usual first date things: where we were from, how long we’ve been in the city, music we like, if we enjoyed our meals, etc. The more we talked, the more our chemistry grew. Of course, the chemistry could have been the Malbec. But judging by the smiles on our faces, The Teacher and I had something more. After a few hours of flirtatious and witty banter, we paid our check and I walked her to a cab. Our next date was set in two weeks and I was a happy guy. Keep reading »
I know, I know, you’ve all been waiting with bated breath to find out if Scar Twin and I got it on. And BOY, DID WE.
You see, after I quite cathartically wrote to you all about my dilemma last week, it became evident to me that the real reason I wasn’t having sex wasn’t because I felt emotionally unready. My relationship with Scar Twin is going well, has been progressing on all levels, and I feel very confidently that this “thing” we have was (and is) headed in a positive direction. Our chemistry is undeniable, and it was obvious that we were both itching to do the deed. After all, sex is an important part of any relationship, and it’s fair to say we were both ready to see if we were as compatible in the bedroom as we are out of it. I think, underneath all of the questioning was just plain fear of rejection. Once you sleep with someone, you become vulnerable in a way you weren’t before. You’re more invested, and yes, sometimes people become attached. More than anything, I think I worried that becoming even more intimate with Scar Twin would make things hurt even worse if they didn’t work out. But then I realized that I was depriving myself of a healthy, natural thing that could take our relationship to the next step, so I said “fuck it,” and knew what I needed to do. Keep reading »