“Men cannot like rabbits,” lamented writer Dave Good in his Salon essay about how the pet bunny he adopted was not the chick magnet he dreamed it would be. In fact, the “quiet little guy who lived on salad, used a litter box, and slept under the bed” ruined his sex life. “Somewhere in mid-stream,” he writes of the one time he was able to lure a woman back to his place for sex, “the bunny snuck under the bed and began madly pounding the floor with its feet — rabbitspeak for danger — which scared my date. She left, and I never saw her again.”
That does sound unsettling — to hear a bunny pounding away under the bed while you’re getting pounded. But we’re not entirely sure the problem is the rabbit. Rather, that Dave lets it live under the bed. That doesn’t seem normal. And … we can’t help but wonder if he cleans the litter box often enough. Women don’t dislike bunnies, but we do hate the smell of rabbit scat. Some things that will make it absolutely impossible to do the deed. We’re willing to look past that moldy dish towel for one night, but it’s hard to ignore a bunny under the bed. Below are some more vagina killers that have sent us running. Keep reading »
I have been a symbol of sex my entire life. As a black woman from a poor, single-parent household, I know the script that is written for me far too well. Black women are always more appealing as strippers or “hoes.” Before I even hit puberty, this script was shoved in my face and I was forced to memorize it.
When I was 11, I lived in a predominantly underprivileged, black neighborhood in Houston, Texas. Everyone knew each other. My mom worked nights at the local hospital, so often I was home alone with my brother, sister and an older cousin. My mom thought the high fences that surrounded our complex kept us safe from what was on the outside. Little did she know, what was on the inside tormented me daily. Keep reading »
A new paper published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior profiled “Stephen,” a 45-year-old “socially anxious but pleasant and cooperative” man who voluntarily checked himself into a psych ward complaining of his intense desire to be “consumed by a large, dominant woman and then defecated by her.” Stephen also admitted to fantasizing about “being feces or semen and being expelled by a person.” Strangely, Stephan’s main reason for seeking professional help was the fear that he was gay. Keep reading »
In the light of recent sex scandals involving yoga “gurus” Bikram Choudhury and John Friend, Miami-based Budokon teacher, Cameron Shayne (pictured above), who’s known as the “world authority on yogic and martial arts integration,” penned a lengthy, braggy, philosophically dense missive for RebelleSociety.com about why having sex with students is totally ethical. In his piece, “Hot Sex For Real Yogis: Can I Have Sex With My Yoga Teacher?” Shayne seeks to answer the question: “Should we as Yoga teachers, and others as yoga students be restricted or limited regarding our sexual partnerships in order to accommodate the beliefs of others?”
The “beliefs of others” being? Well, I’m not sure, but his answer is obviously NO considering that he opens by confessing that he’s slept with several of his students. “As a single male yoga teacher, I have had on more than one occasion engaged in deep and meaningful intimate relationships with a woman I have met either in my class, workshops or in the yoga community,” Shayne writes. In addition, he makes it clear that he doesn’t regret any of these sexual relationships — even the ones that ended like a “Woody Allen tragedies” because “mistake-making [is] essential to the human experience. Therefore you cannot have sex with the wrong person — only a person that provides you with another intrinsic part of the whole that becomes your story.” Keep reading »
I am done with penis.
I knew I was finished with it years ago, but, stupidly, I kept holding out as if I just hadn’t found The One True Penis — say, one that glittered or was bent upwards at the perfect angle. But penis-in-vagina was such a simple go-to when I wanted to have sex! Sometimes, I would pull him into bed with me so fast that even I thought I wanted him inside me. But then, no matter how eager and considerate the lover or great the dick, my arousal would sputter a few minutes after he was in. It was like dumping ice cubes on my vagina.
Thats why I’m swearing off cock–or more particularly, penile penetration. I’ve tried all kinds of things to get penis-in-vagina sex to work for me: large cocks and small cocks, silicone and flesh, bent at different angles and attached to all genders of bodies. I’ve put on blindfolds in order to narrow my sensation to just to what was between my legs and had some of the most talented people I could find manipulate my g-spot. All to no avail. Keep reading »