I was a late-in-life virgin. I’m not talking one of those extreme ones – 30 years old, 35, etc. – I mean, like, 23. So does that qualify? Not really. But my point is that most of my friends went about losing their virginity at 17, and an extra six years of virginity back then — well, it felt like a lifetime. All this is to say that by the time I finally got around to The Knocking of The Boots, I was out of my parents’ house, living in my first apartment with this gay dude who spent most of his time at his boyfriend’s apartment. And all that is to say that a thing I never had to struggle with was finding a place to have sex. I had my own room by the time I really needed one. So any gentlemanly partner in the erotic arts I stumbled across, he and I would just do it in there. Great. Boom. Done. Keep reading »
Oh AshleyMadison.com, I thought that creating a dating website to promote adultery was the douchiest move any single site could make, but I stand corrected.
Today, you guys have managed to outdo yourselves by offering $1 million dollars to any woman who could prove she had sex with Tim Tebow. Really, guys? I understand that it is daring to point out the hypocrisy of others, but what happened to the good ol’ days when people’s private lives were, well, private? Who appointed you guys the moral police squad, anyways? I am pretty sure your site has perpetrated far worse crimes against morality than this dude’s virginity claim. Not to mention, how the heck would a girl be able to prove she had sex with Tim? Would a jock strap with his initials on it be adequate proof? If so, I’m coming by to collect that cash in a jiffy! Keep reading »
Bringing new meaning to the phrase “before the body gets cold,” Egypt is considering a new law that will allow Egyptian husbands to have sex with their dead wife’s corpse up to six hours after death. But don’t get your panties in a knot, ladies. Wives can have sex with their dead husbands’ corpse as well, because the issue at hand is whether marriage is still in effect after death. (Unless rigor mortis sets in southward, we don’t much see the point.) This very important matter of “farewell intercourse” is just one of many measures Egypt’s Islamist-dominated parliament is considering; the others are not so what-the-fuck as they are human rights abuses. Other laws being considered would restrict women’s access to education and employment and lower the minimum marriage age to 14. Pardon my pun, but those are the real issues here, even if they’re not as sexy as the necrophilia law. [Al-Arabiya; Daily Mail UK]
A new study done at Dartmouth confirmed what we already knew: Focus on food and you will probably get fat, think about sex and you are more likely to get laid. Forty-eight females were given brain scans while being shown pictures of food, animals nature scenes and people engaging in sexual and nonsexual activities. Researchers found that women who responded more often to the pictures of food were more likely to gain weight in the next six months, while the women who had a greater response to sexual images showed an increase in sexual desire and activity in the next six months. Scientists are excited because it means they can make predictions about our behavior based on our brain activity. I’m excited because I can choose to think less about Girl Scout cookies, more about sex. If only there weren 12 hot guys instead of 12 boxes of Thin Mints in our office right now, it would be a lot easier. [NY Times]
Let me start by giving you two conflicting pieces of information: 1) I consider myself heterosexual, and 2) At the age of 13 – while in the violent throws of puberty – I saw the iconic Vanity Fair cover featuring k.d. lang in a three-piece suit alongside a leather bathing suit-clad Cindy Crawford, and thought k.d. was the single sexiest thing that I’d ever seen.
For the moment, let’s put these seemingly conflicting bits of information off on the theory of sexuality that goes, “It’s not some hard and fast thing. It’s a spectrum. And we all fall on different places upon it.” You’re 85 percent straight, 15 percent gay, let’s say. Or 60 percent gay, 40 percent straight. Or maybe 95 percent gay, 5 percent straight. Anyway, you get the point. As for me, I’d like to simplify my own sexuality by saying I think of myself as 70 percent straight, 30 percent gay. I’ve always been attracted to men, always figured that a traditional heterosexual future was ahead of me, but that image of k.d. lang, you see, it knocked something loose within and set me on the path to Barbara. Or, as I like to refer to her: Babs. Keep reading »
Years ago, in my early 20s, I dated a guy named Mike. Now Mike, by all accounts, was heterosexual. Perhaps you’re thinking, Um, hello? Duh. Of course he was. He was dating you, and you’re a woman. But as any lady in her 20s living in New York can tell you, this doesn’t always guarantee straightness. No. It does not. However, Mike seemed thoroughly, authentically hetero. And as evidence of that fact – and just to get down to the nitty-gritty of it – I offer you the following: He had a healthy sexual appetite and, more to the point, he really enjoyed the performance of The Oral Sex. And more to the point, he was unfailingly, ahem, aroused after having done so to moi et moi’s lady-bits.
So this one night, Straight Mike and I were enjoying a couple of post-coital drinks and chitting and chatting, and I – in a pathetic if nonetheless truthful attempt to make him think me more worldly than I was/am – mentioned having made out with a girl in college. I said, “Well, there was this month in college when I kept making out with my friend Barbara.”
I expected him to tell me how edgy, original, and adventurous this was, but instead, he went, “Oh, yeah. Well, I mean, I guess I never think that stuff’s that big a deal. I mean, well, I sucked this guy’s dick, like … last year I guess it was?” Keep reading »