You can hear Mama June use her very original euphemisms as she gives the girls a talk about the birds and the bees on tonight’s season premiere of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.” If it’s unclear, the fruit loop is part of the biscuit, which is a part of the woman’s “privatal area.” It’s called a fruit loop because “guys go loopy over it.” Obviously. [People]
Given how more than one huffing and puffing old man has suffered a heart attack underneath his mistress, you might believe a romp is the sack is akin to a SoulCycle session. Your heart rate is going! You sweat! Afterwards you want a Gatorade!
Well, The New York Times Magazine is here to burst your bubble. Keep reading »
This is The Frisky, where we’ve got sex on the brain all the time. Ordering at Sonic. Clipping our toenails. Eating Thanksgiving dinner. All the time. And it just so happens that certain dishes in a traditional Thanksgiving dinner remind of the sex acts we are grateful for all year long. Come on, you know you want to find out what cranberry sauce represents. Keep reading »
One of the hazards of apartment living are thin walls and floors that share your every “Oh, baby!” and bed creak with your neighbors. It’s part of life. You get used to it. All of us have sex (I hope) and no one’s sex should be ruined by whiny neighbors.
The polite thing to do when neighbors are having noisy sex is just ignore those amorous rumbles and smile awkwardly at each other in the hallways, pretending you don’t know they just got banged last night. Only in the most extreme of circumstances — I’m talking you’ve got the flu and a newborn baby — can you bang on the walls. Two or three good thumps should do.
But it’s a violation of alllll kinds of rules of decorum and not-being-an-asshole-hood to post a sign on your neighbor’s front door bitching about their noisy sex. And adding a dis about their stamina?! Oh no, you didn’t! Allow me to introduce you to the lady from Apartment 517 and her crappy sign-writing neighbor. Keep reading »
There’s a lot that I don’t remember from high school. Algebra. Most of the Italian language. But something my high school health teacher said about premarital sex is still embedded in my mind 10 years on.
She said that on our wedding night, when we have sex with our (future) husband or wife, all the other people we’ve slept with would be sleeping alongside us. She meant it figuratively, of course — she was trying to get us to think about promiscuity through the frame of premarital sex being a bad thing. How crowded, she seemed to be asking, did we want our marital bed mattress to be? Keep reading »
We get lots of sex toys sent to us at The Frisky’s office. Like, lining-the-bookshelves lots. Don’t get us wrong: we’ll never say no to a new vibrator or free condoms. But truth be told, the packaging and aesthetic of so many sex toys give us a seedy vibe. We don’t want our sex toys to make us feel like we’re lurking around at the tawdry XXX Love Emporium on the side of the highway. We want our sex toys to remind us of the classy, sexy, sensual women that we are. [Unless we’re using them as decorative conversation starters, that is. — Amelia]
Right from the get-go, the Unbound box felt different: it’s a nondescript white box that arrives in the mail through a subscription service and is filled with sex toys all geared towards women. The toys hail from quality companies like Babeland, Lelo and Glas Toys and are meant for use with partners of any gender or sexual orientation. My Unbound box came in the mail with a clitoral vibrator, a glass dildo, lubricant, condoms, a lingerie bag, and a spare contact lens case to carry in my purse for “sleepovers” — score! When I found out that Unbound is a women-owned startup and that the three founders — Greer, Sarah Jayne and Katie — select all the sex toys themselves, I knew I had to talk to them.
Here’s what a couple of the Unbound cofounders Greer Goldenberg and Sarah Jayne Kinney have to say about their great idea:
Keep reading »