Archive for sexploreum
When someone says they have no limits in their kink, I give them so much side eye.
I haven’t seen many other subs in action, because I don’t go out to play parties much, but when I was doing phone sex, I heard that sort of thing a lot. These greedy subs would phrase it as a tolerance for pain or humiliation—even though I could tell that they’d never done face-to-face, paddle-to-ass play ever—but really they just wanted to be forced to take a cock the width of the entire known universe into their hungry little butthole.
No shame in having a hungry butthole, but if that’s all you want, then just say it and admit that you do have limits after all.
I laughed at my phone-sex clients for their notion of being the perfect sub, the bottomless receptacle for whatever jizz and verbal abuse I could hurl at them during our few minutes together. They could just ask for whatever they wanted; they didn’t have to say “I have no limits.” They could actually have asked me to shove the entire universe into their ass, and without cracking a smile, I would have described the bumps of the asteroid belts and everything.
The human brain is built to play around with mad pangalactic fuckery, but that wasn’t enough: my clients wanted me to see them as being able to take anything and everything, and they had very specific words for that: "I have no limits."
I could write it off as sheer macho posturing in the face of often “effeminate” fantasies. There is also a compelling gonzo component, when you take “no limits” to logical extremes: you could die from four inches thick and not enough lube, but yes, LET’S GO FOR THE UNIVERSE IN YOUR BUTT.
But hell, I have been known to say “I can take anything” to my partner, and I know damn well that’s not true. So why do I say it? What is that fantasy about? What is it that I’m trying to say?
For me, at least, I’m an overachiever. I want to do better than anyone else. I also imagine that I know what my partner is getting out of topping or dominating me, and I want to be the best target for topping that they’ve ever had. I want to show off, I guess. My ego is there in my submission in a hundred different ways, in the internal tasks that I set for myself: not to move, not to flinch, not to cry at all or not too loud. I want to show to my partner what a good girl I am, that I won’t jump.
But it is not only ego, not by a long shot. With my partner, as with no one else, there is a strange cyclical alchemy of pain and love. I love him so much that I want to give him the gift of my utter submission, to take everything he can dish out. When I endure it, and he sees that endurance and praises me for it, my love expands more and I want to give him even more of that, show him that. And so on, around and around and back and forth.
Thankfully, he knows when to stop, even if I haven’t said my safe word. I am that in love with him that it feels like I could go on forever there, and he knows it, and he also knows that someone gets to put down limits when I am that far gone in my love/pain spiral, and he is that someone. He understands, I think, the space I want to go with my submission.
My body has limits, but my heart does not. I have to balance between the two, and he will catch me, either way.
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FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “How does Mister/Miss Straitlaced keep up with the action in Berlin without burning out?”
The erotic imagination lives in the brain, and you know what they say about the brain…
It’s a muscle. Stretch it. Exercise it. Keep it flexible.
It’s a channel for electricity. Throw out lots of synaptic points and see what connects.
It’s hungry. Give it lots of food for thought.
There are any number of excellent metaphors for what you need to do, but it all boils down to this: to expand your erotic imagination, you need to feed it, use it regularly, and push outside your known zone every now and then.
Feed it. Where you get the fuel for your particular machine isn’t that important, as long as it’s legal, ethical, and interesting for you. Porn can be a good source, if you’re visually inclined, but you can also read erotica, or have a partner read erotica to you. The good thing about written or audio erotica, versus visual, is your mind gets to fill in the blanks. Try reading a piece to yourself, and then having it read to you, just to see changes for your between the two different takes!
What you feed your erotic imagination doesn’t have to be straight-up depictions of sex or kink, either. You can get out there and experience activities that are aimed at the senses. Get a massage; play in water; carefully cook a dinner that requires more than one napkin. Hit a museum or sculpture garden, or visit a fabric store, where you can run your hands all over the silks and satins. (Don’t make groaning noises, that’ll just freak the sales people out.) Go dancing to different kinds of music to see how they feel in your body.
(PSST: go to a Smut Slam near you and hear about other people's sex adventures. You will definitely get some ideas, and possibly some good cautionary advice, too.)
Plain ol’ conversation helps keep your well full, too. Talk with your partner(s) about the things you already do together, as well as the things you might do. Take them with you on these fieldtrips, and talk about what happens there. But don’t just make these forays a one-time thing. You need to…
Use it regularly. That phrase “use it or lose it” is not just a nicely rhyming platitude. This is true of all skills or abilities: if you do not regularly do a thing, your ability to do it will eventually atrophy.
With the erotic imagination, this means both going out and getting your “source material,” as it were, AND THEN making space in your life for playing. Don’t worry about any direct correlation between what you are doing on your sensual dates and what you are doing in your sexy times. You don’t need to force the connection; your brain will do the alchemy on its own.
Push your boundaries. I don’t mean break through them like a randy rhinoceros, or ignore your own internal misgivings or pain warnings or actual hard limits. I just mean, if you discover something that makes you shiver a little, or if your partner suggests something that you know nothing about… maybe try it.
Normally, in the course of your regular sex-having schedule, you’d probably push unknown items back in favor of activities you know and love, right? Go for the sure thing. But in the interest of stretching your boundaries, go ahead and lean on that question-mark spot, when one arises. Obviously, do all the safety prep and checks first: discuss it beforehand, including safe words/signals, investigate accurate technique, and even maybe plot out baby steps to this new and possibly scary thing, if it’s something you really aren’t sure of.
But look: if you’re already making the time for sensual dates, and making regular space in your life to incorporate all that new material, you’ve got enough time to slow down and gently push. Leaning into a stretch is how you make it bigger.
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FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “my partner and I have a Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell agreement, and it’s starting to feel a little weird”
we're on "don't ask don't tell" for our sorta open relationship. I want to be more open about my feelings toward others, but he doesn't, even after suggesting it. I don't mind necessarily, but it's starting to feel a bit secretive.
This is not a question, it’s just a scribbled-down statement about how things are (or were) for someone in the Smut Slam audience, but I felt like I wanted to address it anyway, because there is a question in there: "what should I do?"
If I’m recalling correctly, there were a lot of polyamorous people in the audience that night and when I read this part, a murmur rippled through the crowd. The whole room expressed a sort of “yup, been there” and then sighed one collective sigh.
Many of us have been there. Oh my lord. DADT as a policy statement for open relationships is super common, especially for folks new to open relationships who think it’s some sort of training-wheel approach, just to get started. I know I did, with both the first and second partners I tried an actual opening-up with. I had asked about it, and my partners reluctantly agreed to it, but on terms: “I don’t want to know anything about it.”
And the thing is, that works, on a purely theoretical level, in a world where all you wanna do is scratch that itch and get laid, in and out and back to your “real life” and your “real partner.” Don’t Ask Don’t Tell works there, in that world where all you want are discrete bits of time with people who aren’t asking anything from you except some time with your particular and very discreet bits. DADT works fine, in an ongoing way, when you have a perfectly compartmentalized life and psyche.
In reality, very very few people have that kind of life and/or psyche. You may say you can do it, because good lord, that person is hot and you really wanna scratch that itch! But the reality is, life bleeds out all over everything. You develop feelings for that person who was supposed to just be a no-strings-attached fuck. Or at least you like them—hopefully—so you wind up watching a movie with them that you really love and then you go back to your primary partner and say, hey, I want to show you this movie, and they love it too and they say, “Wow, that was amazing! Where did you find out about this movie?” and you’re suddenly like, eep. Can I say?
What do you do if that happens with a sex move?
No couple magically match up their free time without discussion, sometimes a lot of discussion, depending on the couple and their already existing schedules. Carving out time for other people, without mentioning those other people, is really difficult.
And yeah, those feelings. They do happen, and if you’ve already set down a DADT policy about such basic things as “no mentioning dates with other people” and “I don’t want to know their names,” you’re suddenly going to be in an even more untenable position when the feelings come up.
This is not to say that your boyfriend doesn't have the right to say, "I don't want to hear about what you and your date did in bed last night" or "I'd rather not be the sounding board for any relationship problems you're having with your other partners." Those are pretty common boundaries; hopefully the two of you can hash those out together. But it sounds like the embargo is laid down pretty hard and pretty low, so... yeah. How much of your life/time/attention/heart is wrapped up in these other relationships, and how important is it that you can be open about that?
This person isn’t asking for advice, but for any readers who may be in the same situation, I encourage you to use the Sheelzebub principle, named after a Captain Awkward reader who had some sage advice for anyone wondering what to do in a challenging relationship situation:
Can I live with this for another month? Another year? Another five years? Ten years? The rest of my life? How long?
Maybe you’d be okay with it. What about your partners in DADT-ness? That might feel a bit shitty for them too. You’re feeling a little bit constrained now. How will that feel after five years of it? I can’t answer that question for you, but as someone who tried “don’t ask don’t tell” once, I can tell you I would never go back.
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The frequent stimulation of the throat and experiencing these [throat] orgasms can lead to a better connection with your intuition and feminine wisdom, a deeper expression of your needs, creative and artistic abilities, and your higher potential.
When we regularly deep-throat our partners’ dicks, WE CAN BECOME BETTER WOMEN, HOORAY.
Yes indeed, there is much to thrill the Terrible Sex Tip fan in this article, and by thrill I mean creep you right the fuck out. For starters, it’s another article that makes orgasms feel like Pokémon: gotta have ‘em all!
Well, no, we don’t have to. We’re being told we should want them all, and should strive to have them all because… because... Guh, this is the part that makes me get all tin-foil-hat about a distracted populace being an essential part of late-stage capitalism. MOVING ON.
Let me say that I have had profoundly moving and mysterious experiences in sex. I have come just from squeezing my thighs together and listening to my partner talk on the phone. Mostly I just chalk that sort of thing up to the human mind being a strange and glorious place; I don’t feel the need to pin that down or replicate the experience.
I don’t mind if other people talk about chakras and light and transcendence. If that gives you something to meditate on, more power and blessings be on your sexual-spiritual adventures. But everyone I’ve seen writing for mainstream media about tantric practices, they can’t stop there. Like the writer of this article, they just keep going with what I consider unsubstantiated bullshit.
He makes a little bit of room in the piece for more obscure orgasms, like the nipple orgasm. “The nipples … are connected via energy channels to the clitoris.” Fuckin’ WUT. What energy channels? Nerve endings are real, and yeah, they are weird; I personally can make little sparks happen down there if I stick my finger deep enough in my belly button. (I don't do that anymore, but I did when I was eight. Don't judge me.) But I don’t assume that everyone has that same neurological bridge.
The author put something called a "urinary orgasm" in here. It’s relatively rare, he says. Just drink a lot of water and release it mid-fucking, he says. Put some towels down, he says. That’s called water sports, dude, and relief at getting to pee is not the same thing as having an orgasm.
In classic over-generalising style, the writer dismisses the clitoral orgasm as “shallow” and something to avoid whenever possible—“It just doesn't serve you and charge you like deep vaginal orgasms do,” fucking WAT. He then goes on to describe other types of orgasms that originate deeper into the cunt, with the orgasms supposedly getting correspondingly better until—surprise, surprise!—we reach the cervical orgasm.
Yes, that's the one that you “probably haven’t heard of,” the one that you can’t really have when you’re being a floozy and sleeping around, the one that requires you to fucking get pounded on your cervix… the cervical orgasm is the holy grail for many tantra people, based on what I've read. Like many an article about the cornucopia of female orgasms, this guy pretty cavalierly dismisses clitoral orgasms as being shallow compared to vaginal orgasms, and then vaginal orgasms are like an ephemeral breeze compared to the cervical orgasm.
Please, can you just let people explore themselves and not assign any inherent value to whichever methods and holes and dangly bits they like?
Speaking of holes, this writer went to a lot of effort to hit all of them. I will buy anal orgasms, because when someone is having a good time down your back alley, there’s a LOT going on, sensitive tissues moving back and forth, etc. But throat orgasms? The pleasure I get from deep throating is entirely from being in a certain subby head space, very little if any from the physicality of it, because the uvula is not a clit analogue. The author says there is a minor chakra back there that you can pound, er, stimulate, which he says results in a different orgasm. Don't worry if you start gagging, or “if some fluids come up. You’ll get better at it over time.” And you want this, yes you do! Because…. Wait for it…
“The frequent stimulation of the throat and experiencing these orgasms can lead to a better connection with your intuition and feminine wisdom, a deeper expression of your needs, creative and artistic abilities, and your higher potential.”
When we frequently deep-throat our partners’ dicks, WE CAN BECOME BETTER WOMEN, HOORAY.
To be completely honest, I should probably stop looking at any article that talks about tantra. I experience deep connections, but the spiritual shit sends me right up the wall. I’m sure there’s a way that people can write about those deep connections without COMPLETELY raising my hackles, but I haven’t found it yet. In the meantime, the mainstream articles are going out there, about getting past those cheap floozy clitoral orgasms and being smug about being BALLS DEEP IN SOMEONE'S CHAKRAS.
I mean, is that what tantra is all about? Spiritual deep-dicking? That's what I'm seeing out there, and that's what this article feels like. If not, then please, my tantric friends: get some other writers, maybe even yourself, to WRITE IT BETTER, because your current PR volunteers are not repping you well.
Also, if sex tips leave people feeling bad about the good things they already enjoy, those tips are not transcendent, they are Terrible.
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My hottest epiphany was, in itself, not hot. It was the opposite of hot. It was the coldest that I had felt in my life up until that point, and it happened in my counselor’s office when I was rocking back and forth in a chair that was not designed for rocking, sobbing and doubled over from the psychic pain. But eventually it led to the best sex I've ever had.
Let me explain.
I had gone into counseling because I had cheated on my longtime partner, a woman, with a man. Although my awareness of my bisexuality had been sneaking up on me, to the point where I was starting to feel a little weird at office parties (I had a crush on my male editor at the newspaper), I thought I had it “under control.” When I subsequently went to a newspaper convention, drank two margaritas the size of my head, and rather aggressively pursued a male advertising sales rep from Sacramento… I realized I had nothing under control and sought out counseling.
There in the comfortably bland office, I dissected and discussed my craving for "male company," after nearly nine years of avoiding that shit like the plague. That was not the epiphany. I knew that I wanted cisgendered men back in my life, at least for the bouncy fun bits. The hard part was weighing that desire against everything else in my life.
Because I was still with my partner, and I still loved her, and I knew that pursuing my sexual desires was going to throw everything into chaos. She was already hurting, and I didn’t know how to make that stop. My new-found mantra for that period was You can’t unknow what you know, but saying it didn’t really help.
I felt guilt for what I had already done, and guilt for what I hadn’t even done yet, and deep, deep shame for all of it. It took me months and months to drill down to the core of it, something leftover from growing up in a large religious family with scarce resources and scarce love and sex being a perversion anyway: I felt that I wanted too much. I wanted more than I “deserved.”
Of course this goes back to always being a little bit hungry, and never being able to ask for more because there wasn’t more. But the current-day psychological upshot was that I felt that my wants, of any sort, were excessive. I was "greedy" for wanting what I wanted, and my happiness was nowhere worth near as much as other people’s. I could feel the desire—so profound that it transcended mere tingly bits—and at the same time I could feel my horrified recoil at my own selfishness, so I had been going around and around like a gyroscope, balanced in this endless push of lust and self-loathing.
I don’t know how exactly I broke that cycle. My counselor coaxed me down the path multiple times, as I made little baby steps and then waited for God to strike me down. I had to brace myself against the sure knowledge that yes, my choices would affect my partner, and try and fail and try again to be ethical, to be caring. I had to weigh, over and over, the risks and potential outcomes. I had to be at peace with the nature of my sexual self, and with the knowledge that it shifts and changes.
This is a process more than an epiphany. I still don’t always know how to proceed with my passionate pursuits. I still definitely worry about how those pursuits affect others. But at least I know that I must pay attention to my desires. I can’t always fulfill them right away or at all, because the world is not that kind of place, but my desires are valid and important, and they are definitely not too much.
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