Unforgettable Affair

 “Damn!” I swore as I broke my nail on the car door.My boyfriend, who was always too busy for me, was now too busy to book his parents 25th wedding anniversary. So that job was on me. A broken nail and planning an event for his mom and dad. Ya-fucking-hoo!

I was still annoyed at having to go on yet another unappreciated errand as I approached the doors of Chicago’s newest upscale catering business. When I opened the French doors, the strong odor of fresh paint, new carpeting, industrial air-conditioning and deep rich leather furniture enveloped my senses.

“May I help you?” asked a man who had sneaked up on me. I turned my head and felt weak in the knees as I gazed into the eyes of the most attractive man I had ever seen. His dark black hair contrasted with his fair skin and his light green eyes made my thoughts scramble as I tried not to stare.

“I’m Shannon White, I have an appointment with…” I trailed off.

“Michael,” the hottie answered with a knowing wink. “Follow me,” he said as he began to show me around the ground floor.

Each room was more beautiful than the next, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts on the business at hand. I pictured what he would look like in the buff. Strong, hard, lean—he was the perfect specimen of a man. He showed me picturesque artwork and expertly detailed sculptures. I was so curious about this man. Did I mention whose anniversary this was for? Did this piece of eye candy know I had a boyfriend? I wouldn’t let him be an issue if I could get a piece of Michael.

For the first time in my life, I felt a confidence I never felt before. I wanted to grab this man, throw him to the floor and fuck him until he begged for mercy. I watched and studied his hard ass from every angle as he walked me around presenting room options and menu suggestions. All I wanted to know was if he was wearing briefs, boxers or nothing at all.

He confessed that the Starlight Room was his favorite because it had a spectacular view during both the day and evening. As he stood behind me pointing out the landscaping through the veranda, I leaned back against him. His body was as solid as I imagined, but what I didn’t expect was to feel his hard cock pressed against the inside of his tailored suit pants.

I leaned back just the slightest bit more and felt his hardness pressed against the small of my back. A slight moan escaped my open lips.

Michael pulled away and took me by the hand. “I have so much more to show you.”

He led me to a deep-carpeted staircase and smiled. “After you,” he said. Michael then let me walk about five steps in front of him so he had a birds’ eye view right up my short skirt. I was wearing my skimpiest thong. Was he burning for me the way I was for him?  How I want this man!

He directed me to the top of the stairs where I was surprised to see a wedding in progress.

Flashing his adorable grin he motioned me to continue up yet another, smaller staircase which led to multiple balconies overlooking the entire affair. We proceeded upward and Michael placed his hand around my waist and gently rubbed the base of my well-formed breasts. Slowly he moved his thumb up to the center of my now heaving breast. I turned to him, eyes closed, mouth opened and gave him a kiss. He pulled the pins from inside my hair and let my long flowing tresses drop around my slim shoulders and back.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed my ear lobe and inside of my neck. Ever so slowly he opened the buttons to my blouse and proceeded to gently nip and suck my breasts.

“Come with me,” he whispered as he clasped my hand and led me through the dark corridor.

In front of us were private suites overlooking the grand wedding that was taking place below. He shut the door and pressed me firmly against it with his body. He held both my wrists over my head with one hand and kissed me deeply and passionately, all the while grinding his dick against me. I couldn’t believe the erotic sensation I was feeling, until I came. I felt like a teenage girl having her first hot sex session in the backseat of a car.

I was a bit embarrassed. Here I was, a grown woman, having orgasms while I was still fully dressed. Michael noticed the flush in my cheeks and kissed me until I was ready again. Ready for the real thing.

He led me over to a plush couch in the comer of the large suite and kneeled in front of me, his hands roaming slowly up and down my inner thighs. I raised my toned, hard ass as Michael slowly removed my thong and tossed it aside. I reached down and felt again his thick solid cock, but this time it was pulsing between my fingers and the rich material of his slacks.

He put my hand on his shoulder and slowly kissed his way down to my throbbing, awaiting pussy. He flicked my mound with his vibrating tongue, teasing me, making me push my whole body toward him. I arched my back uncontrollably as he zeroed in on my beckoning clit. I could no longer hold off the climax and pressed the back of his head against me. I came with such force tears streamed from my eyes.

Through glazed eyes I looked again at the wedding beneath us. The guests were none the wiser. I did not look up at Michael’s handsome green eyes but at his straining bulge of manhood. I opened his leather belt, unbuttoned his pants and undid his zipper. His cock was huge and perfect and all I wanted to do was taste it.

He pressed my back against the sofa in an effort to enter me. “I want to suck you,” I muttered as I bent down toward his dick.

I licked the thick, glistening member, which was extended to its maximum girth. The smooth helmet pulsed with wetness as I tasted his love juices. I remembered a trick I learned in college but, until now, had never felt hot and horny enough to try it. I sucked his whole member deep into my throat and moved my tongue along his balls.

I felt his rhythm and licked up and down to the movement of his hips. I reached behind him and delicately teased his asshole with my finger. His body stiffened.

“I have to be inside you,” he moaned.

With one last suck, I let his beautiful member fall from my lips. He sat on the plush couch, and I let my long legs straddle his muscular thighs. With slow pulses and a combination of intensely delicious pain and pleasure, I took his whole giant rocket deep inside me. He pushed me up and down, teasing me with just the head, rubbing it against my wet opening. When my juices seemed to flow down his hard dick, he pumped me with his entire length.

I exploded in a spasm of ecstasy and lay spent on top of him.

“Rest here,” he said, as he covered me with a silk tablecloth that was lying nearby. I watched as he pulled on his pants and straightened his tie. “I’ll be right back,” he sensuously told me.

My eyes gently closed to the sounds of the wedding band. Not long afterward, I was awakened by the smell of a delicious buffet of the finest delicacies. Michael had his chefs prepare an elaborate display: lobster, filet mignon, caviar, oysters, clams and rich desserts. My stomach growled. He poured two glasses of sparkling champagne. “Only for our finest clients,” he said as he leaned over and kissed my breast.

Michael looked deeply in my eyes and lifted a forkful of truffle cake to my lips. “Hungry?” he innocently asked and proceeded to feed me a multitude of spectacular foods, each more delicious than the next. He pulled the tender lobster from its shell and let the sweet butter drip into my awaiting mouth. I cringed at the salty caviar. He held an oyster to my lips and told me to suck deeply.

But all the while I ate, I gazed in his eyes and thought, “Fuck me again.” As if reading my thoughts, Michael began to kiss my neck and suck his way down toward my tight abdomen.

“Now for my dessert,” he said and kissed me passionately. Michael buried his gorgeous face in my lap. He licked and teased me until I spread my legs wide. He ate me like the delicacies he previously shared. He timed the pressure perfectly and ground his tongue into my bright pink knob, causing me to climax yet again. Within a moment I heard Michael climax too. I was so involved in his excellent oral I didn’t even notice his beautiful dick in his hand.

We polished off the leftover food and laughed and talked. Never had I had so much great sex, in all my life! I’ll be limping tomorrow, I thought and smiled.

He helped me from the chair and raised all the sides of the tablecloth. China, silver and all crashed together as he removed the dishes and placed the sack-like tablecloth to the floor. He leaned my back against the hardwood table and entered me easily. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pumped me methodically. I felt my swollen mound tingling with each thrust.

I backed away and released his manhood from my smooth wetness. He moaned with displeasure.

I positioned myself in front of him and placed each of his hands on my breasts. I knew Michael pumping me from behind would be sheer ecstasy. I pressed my firm ass toward his erect dick. His cock seemed to jump to attention. I raised myself on tiptoes and reached behind me to place him inside my wet pussy. He rocked slowly in and out until his whole length was penetrated deep within my creaming walls. Michael reached around to my hard throbbing clit and rubbed firmly with the ball of his hand. Wave upon wave upon wave of orgasm washed through me.

I felt Michael stiffen against my ass and shoot his juices within my now soaking walls.

He collapsed on me. We dressed in quiet contentment. “Please call me again,” Michael said, as he walked me to the door and handed me his business card. We kissed deeply and I almost didn’t go. I turned and walked to my car while the guests from the wedding were waiting for the valets. I looked at the business card and a sly grin touched my lips: “Michael Crispin, Owner. Crispin’s: For An Unforgettable Affair”

I knew I’d be calling again.

Otherwise Engaged

ne year before her nuptials, Leah begins checking off every item on her sexual bucket list. Call it creative monogamy!

They’re not married yet, but Leah’s tired. Tired of missionary and tired of the same face in bed every night. “Eddie is sweet, and I do love him. But I think there’s more. I want to know about more.”

Leah, a 5’2” brunette with green eyes and full lips, is a 26 year old event planner in Long Island. She’s been dating Eddie since they were 17, and have been engaged since she turned 24. “There’s a lot of stuff I wanted to do – sexually – before I got serious with Eddie, and I thought there’d be time for it. Like, in college, maybe.” But one thing led to another, and they were engaged.

I met Leah through our mutual friend, Zoe. Zoe and Leah have been best friends since they met in ninth grade, and I was Zoe’s roommate in college. A few weeks ago, Zoe contacted me to see if I’d want to chronicle the months leading up to Leah’s wedding and the interesting agreement she’s made with her fiance. Of course, I said yes.

Leah’s never been with anyone else, and despite her reservations, her eyes glitter when she says, “The wedding’s planned for next year. We wanted to wait until after Eddie passed the bar to plan a date. Too many of my friends gave up their whole lives just so they could get married, and now they’re all having babies and I’m traveling whenever I want.”

Still, life’s not all perfect. “I’ve always wanted to be with a woman. I’ve always known I was bisexual, but I never had the chance to try anything out.” Like most girls, she experimented at parties, but it never went further than kissing. And for a long while, Leah never thought it would.

But last week, things changed. “Eddie and I talk a lot in bed, like, our fantasies and stuff. He’ll talk about stuff I want to do, but I know that’s all it’s ever going to be. I’m happy, and when it comes to the vanilla stuff, I couldn’t ask for more. But there’s a part of me that wonders if I’ll regret not experimenting when I had the chance. I don’t want to be old and wondering. I don’t think he knew how much it mattered to me.”

She was flipping through a bridal magazine in bed when Eddie noticed her lingering on a photoshoot for wedding night lingerie. “I knew it wasn’t just the clothes,” he said.

“She’s talked about wanting to be with a woman before, but I didn’t realize how serious she was. I thought it was just talking.”

“I was so surprised when he gave me permission,” she said. “I didn’t think, in a million years, he would go for it. But he saw me looking at the girls, and they were just so soft and lovely and…I don’t know. I think he likes the idea of it.”

“I didn’t want her to be unhappy,” Eddie said. “If she needs to get it out of her system, I’m not going to stand in the way. And I’m not going to act like I’ve never thought about it. Leah’s sexy and if she wasn’t going to be my wife, I’d totally want to watch. So I said yes. Just as long as I don’t know the details, I’m fine.”

Leah, an hourglass beauty with breasts just verging on a D cup, is almost shaking with excitement when she says, “He told me that I can experiment up until the altar, as long as he never has to know what I do. Then I can only be with him. But up until then…I’m free.”

Zoe was just as surprised at Eddie’s rule. “Eddie’s so tightly wound. I’m pretty sure he was born in a suit. None of us could believe that he’d said it. But he did. I’m so happy for Leah. She’s been talking about wanting to try it with a girl since high school, but it just never happened. I think monogamy’s been hard on her.”

Arrangements like theirs are not actually as rare as you’d think. According to one study, as many as 28 percent of couples allow for “nonmonogamy,” depending on the circumstances, and as many as 5 percent describe themselves as polyamorous.

Zoe, who went to school with Leah, has beautiful dark skin and perfectly manicured, thick, long braids that reach down to her waist. She works as an assistant editor at a fashion magazine in the city. “I have some gay friends who’ve been wondering about Leah for a while. I brought up their deal over lunch last week, and a couple of them got really excited about it, so I figured I could invite them all out to a bar and, like, see what happens.”

Leah was anxious about the night. “It was all great in theory, but in practice – I mean, how do you dress to attract a girl? How do you flirt with a girl? I felt like a total fish out of water at first, but it turns out it’s not all that different from what I’m used to. Like, other than the obvious. But otherwise, it was truthfully pretty easy.”

[adrotate group=”9″]In the end, Brooklyn ended up taking her home. When asked, she said, “Are you kidding? Leah’s hot. We’ve all noticed her when Zoe’s brought her to work functions and stuff, and a long time we thought they were dating. But it was even worse when we found out about Eddie. When Zoe told us about their deal, we were all too happy to help out.”

Leah blushes when she says, “I don’t want to go into too many details, but it was exactly what I wanted. Brooklyn’s gorgeous. She’s a redhead and she has this tattoo that goes from just to the side of her bellybutton down to her hip and…oh, just yes. I had a lot of fun.”

Brooklyn’s a little less shy when it comes to what happened. “We ended up at my apartment, on the counter in the kitchen. Leah was so sweet and nervous, but she’s a natural and really eager to learn. I mean, the first thing she did was push me up on the kitchen counter and spread my legs out across the marble, and while she ate me out, she was making this really intense eye contact with me. Lips, teeth, tongue. She’d speed up or slow down based on my reactions, and after she slid her fingers into me, she found my g-spot like she fucking lived there. I’ve been with plenty of full-time lesbians who weren’t even half as good as Leah.”

Leah shrugs at Brooklyn’s compliment, though she’s clearly pleased. She says, “I mean, I know what I like. I figured I’d use that as a starting place and then let her guide me from there. And I certainly got a lot of practice – we’d stopped in the kitchen, the living room, the bathtub, and on top of the washer before we even got to the bed. God, that sounds awful, doesn’t it? No. Brooklyn’s something else.”

Brooklyn says, “I could suck on those breasts alone all day and not get tired of it.”

Would she repeat the experience? “Oh hell yes. Any time.”

Zoe said, “I’m just glad that she found what she was looking for! But knowing Leah, that was hardly the last straw.”

Zoe couldn’t be more right. After getting dressed in the morning, she said, “Technically, Eddie said I could experiment as long as we hadn’t gotten married yet. And there’s a lot of stuff I want to try out before I walk down the aisle. I’ve never been with a black guy, or a stranger, or more than one person at a time. I’d love to try sex on ecstasy – Zoe says it’s amazing, but Eddie won’t go for it since his firm does drug tests all the time. So, I’ve got a year to try things out, and I intend on trying everything out.”

Stay tuned for Leah’s next adventure in creative monogamy!

Further Reading

 Are you in a relationship with someone who has expressed interest in “opening the relationship?” Maybe you are the one dissatisfied with monogamy? Have you been thinking about polyamory as a lifestyle, but don’t know how where to start? If so, this book is for you. The Open Relationships Handbook is an introduction to the most common types of open relationships: swinging, non-monogamy, and polyamory. In this book, we’ll cover definitions, important questions, and things to keep in mind in deciding what shape your love life will take, and how to negotiate changes with your partner.[/]

 Applying new research, esteemed scientists David P. Barash and Judith Eve Lipton dispel the notion that monogamy comes naturally. In fact, as The Myth of Monogamy reveals, biologists have discovered that for nearly every species, cheating is the rule — for both sexes. Careful to separate scientific description from moral prescription, Barash and Lipton still poke a little fun at our conceptions of monogamy and other kinds of relationships as “natural” or “unnatural.” Shoring themselves up against the inevitable charges that their reporting will weaken the institution of marriage, they make sure to note that monogamy works well for most of those who desire it and that one of our uniquely human traits is our ability to overcome biology in some instances. If, as some claim, monogamy has been a tool used by men to assert property rights over women, then perhaps one day The Myth of Monogamy will be seen as a milestone for women’s liberation.

Writing Erotica to Lose Your Inhibitions

 Okay ladies, time to fess up. Whether it’s been hidden under your pillow or right there for all to see on your bookshelf, we’ve all had/barrowed/stolen at least one. A sexy novel. Yes, I’m talking about that smutty little drugstore book that has a picture of a beautiful, busty woman with a tiny waist and long flowing hair. Somehow her ensemble seems to dripping off her nearly naked and perfect body as she’s held tightly in the muscular arms of a disturbingly handsome Adonis of a man.

My mother had two hiding spaces for her guilty pleasures; between the arm and cushion of the living room recliner, and underneath her bed. I first found them when I snuck into her room to look for a favorite shirt she took away because it was too low cut. I ruffled through her closet, bed stands, and dressers to no avail. As a last ditch effort I got on my knees, lifted the old bed skirt, and behold! A plethora of books! As an avid reader myself who had read through her own little library through and through, I quickly forgot about my shirt (which to this day has never been found) and gathered as many of those little books as I could and stashed them in my room to read.

Now I understand what you’re thinking. A child, a wee babe, with her hands on those smutty, erotic books? No good could come of this! Let me assure you that I was going on sixteen, and most boys my age and even younger were already stealing their dad’s porno mags. However, while they were stealing theirs for visual titillation, I was stealing mine for a more soul- feeding reason.

After bed I would shut my door, turn on my little bookmark light and read, famished for the written word. And yes, while I did read and memorize certain techniques that to this day make my lovers go, ‘oh!’ The books did something else for me, something far greater.

In a society that predates back to the dawn of humanity, women have always been shunned for liking sex as much as, if not more than men. Yet in these books, somehow, one woman is lucky enough to be seen as more than just a wife and servant to her husband. She is a vixen, a temptress. She is smart, beautiful, and cunning in her seduction. She is given the chance to blossom into her sexual nature through her lover’s gentle education, and is not only able to be whatever her husband needs, but also what she needs.

Now, as both an adult and ghost writer for such naughty novels, I pour forth that power of claiming sexuality into the female characters I create, as well as the romantic relationships I hold in real life. An erotica gives us the freedom to be uninhibited with our lustful fantasies. Personally, I’m quite uninhibited. I have a thirst for knowledge in all aspects, including sex, but that doesn’t mean that writing erotica can’t be for you if you’re a little more-shall we say, tame? Every woman, shy or brazen, deserves to be comfortable in her sexuality.

When I first started writing erotica’s, I wrote them for myself. I wanted to see my lust printed on paper and somehow, by seeing that, it helped me take my secret desires from page to person. It opened me up in a way that has led me to some extremely fun nights with my paramours. For example, it was through my writing that I was able to explore idea of polyamory, which is when a person opens up to multiple romantic relationships by using trust, honesty, and open communication. Through my writing I was able to highlight the best possible erotic situation, thus creating a new and exciting sexual experience for me and those I became involved in. However, now that I’m writing for companies, they are a more tailored for a target audience.

That being said, how could writing out your fantasies not be good for a woman’s sexuality? It’s freeing in a way that promises a lack of judgment. The best part about writing is that you can share it with everyone, or no one. You can keep your fantasies locked up in a journal or you can put them on the internet for all to see. So I ask you, readers of all calibers, what are your fantasies? What or who is it that you crave the most? Either way, you will be surprised how much you can open up about your sexuality when you have a creative outlet for it. Whatever you choose, you are taking a hold of your desires and putting them out of your head and into the world, breathing life into the passion you desperately want. Personally, I like sharing my erotica with my partners. If they can handle what is on the page then they can handle what’s in the writer, if you know what I mean.

Dr. Valentine

 I was alone in my chiropractor’s waiting room. Relieved the day was almost over and looking forward to tonight’s Valentine’s dinner with my boyfriend. We’d been having problems lately and I had hopes of putting the relationship back on course.  I took a deep breath while typical doctors office saxophone music seduced my ears. It was one of those days of unexplained arousal where I just wanted a good fuck to set me straight.

The rain fell hard against the window. A moist twinge between my legs made me anxious. I ran my tongue across my cherry-flavored lips, and heard a man’s voice.

“Hi! Miss Lenore? Dr. Ross had an emergency and had to leave for the day. I’m his new partner, Dr. Foster.”

I shook his hand. He looked young and delicious in black slacks fitting snug below the belt, a black Polo short-sleeved shirt, and brown, slicked-back hair, and he had lust in his eyes, the bluest I’d ever seen. They reminded me of a calm sea inviting me to swim through them naked. Following him into the examining room, I bashfully glanced over his backside and became excited with the thought of his dick becoming hard.

This was actually one of the issues my boyfriend and I had. He accuses me of having a ‘roving eye’ when it comes to other guys and that I’m really not ready for a commitment. My thoughts are that just because you have the car you want doesn’t mean you can’t admire other cars (even test drive them when on one is looking!) My boyfriend is a Mercedes but I do like Corvettes! Dr. Foster was definitely a Corvette!

I climbed on to the black leather table, and his assessing hands were already on my back. My body purred in response to his touch, my tingling, soft flesh wanted him madly, and my nipples were attentively erect. I wanted him to just lift up my skirt and climb inside of me without asking for permission. “Here we go. This should help, Miss Lenore. Let me know if it’s too hot.”

He slowly took off the back-length pad and revealed my body. I was wet with the thought of his eyes having undressed me as he stood next to the table. His fingers pressed firmly into my knotted upper back muscles, kneading me like dough.

“Ouch! That really hurts,” I said, my hands gripping the metal bars at the top of the table, thinking my breath had just been taken away.

“I can imagine. It’s hard for me too,” he said, and I giggled. My mind was turning everything into something sexual. I felt the hard-on in his trousers when he pressed into my back. Dr. Foster gently moved my hair out the way and softly massaged my shoulders, neck, and back. The thought of his cock so close to my face made me drip with desire. His strokes became affectionate, slow, and deep.

“There it goes,” He remarked as he pushed hard into my upper back. Next, he made an adjustment while in a hug-like position over me. When I took a deep breath, he lowered me down slowly with his fists cupped behind my back, and pressed firmly into my spine as I let my breath back out. I was slightly apprehensive and nervous. I closed my eyes when I felt myself tense up. My pulse quickened with his arms around me as the scent of his cologne made me weak. His hot breath tickled my neck.

Crack. His body felt so good over mine. I wanted to grab hold of his waist and wrap my legs around his tight ass. I batted my long eyelashes and smiled. Dr. Foster backed up a step or two and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Is it hot in here, or is it me?” he laughed.

This time, he bent over me with a different look in those ocean blue eyes. His hand touched my face to move the hair away from my lips. He embraced me more passionately than before. Again, he lowered me down to the table. Crack. He didn’t pull me back up. Instead, he wiggled his hands out from behind my back to rest his elbows on each side of my head. I was inches away from his lips and raised my head to meet his mouth.

His lips were soft and full pressed into mine. Once his tongue parted me, his kisses became more erotic with intense desire.

“Doctor, I want you,” I sighed.

He was gorgeous with a fire ablaze in his eyes. He unbuttoned my blouse and unfastened my black, lace bra and flung it over his shoulder. His mouth and hands groped my breasts hungrily.

With his pelvis face level to me, I tugged at his belt and found the zipper and unbuttoned his slacks eagerly. I reached for his very hard, wet cock. My lips wrapped themselves around his warm dick. The salt tantalized my tongue and I wanted more. His moans sent chills through my body.

Then Dr. Foster knelt in front of me while he lifted up my skirt to expose my thighs. The black G-string panties came off swiftly and I gasped in ecstasy with his warm breath between my legs. His lips caressed my wetness as his tongue lapped me gingerly. He reached up every few minutes to fondle my perky breasts and erect nipples. His mouth sucked on my tits before letting go to get on the table and lie on his back. I climbed on top into a 69 position. His tongue probed its way inside me. The Doc’s cock filled my mouth completely. I danced my tongue over and around his hardness with quick sucks at the tip, then taking the length of him all the way down. My hand worked feverishly as I stroked his cock while my mouth sucked him faster and faster.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned.

I felt his thighs tremble with pressure. He spilled himself into me. When his warm, thick cum slid down my throat, I swallowed every drop in contentment. My legs quivered in delight. I rocked back and forth into his face and climaxed with shallow, panting breaths. His lips and tongue ate me out in a frenzied, desirous passion.

His tongue slid across both mounds of my ass. I arched myself up like a cat being stroked just right. “I want you to fuck me so bad, it hurts,” I moaned while looking back at him.

Once he swelled again with arousal, his warm body climbed over me. He slid his cock inside my slit. A pleasured chill ran through me at once. In fevered passion, he rocked me with force. It was a tender, erotic ache. His hands forcefully locked onto my hips to keep me firmly in place. He was long and thick, filling every space I had.

I panted with shallow breaths and bucked back against his pelvis, begging him to finish me off. The erotic pressure felt incredible as I rubbed my clit to his thrusts. “Oh, yeah..mmm” he moaned.

His warm release filled me completely. I quivered in my own orgasm, knowing his juice had exploded into me. He rested over me for a while; our bodies both moist in breathless satisfaction. This adjustment was just what the doctor ordered and exactly what his new patient needed. As I dressed, he pinned me up against the wall for a long, wet kiss goodbye, then whispered in my ear to come back next week.

I had just enough time to get home an shower for my Valentine’s dinner date with my Mercedes. Driving this Corvette, though, was a hell of a lot of fun!

~Lauren StClaire

Guys We Fuck: A Candid Sinterview With Podcasters Corinne and Krystyna

 Welcome to guys we FUCKED is the first thing you hear when you click the play button. It’s also the second thing you hear. Both times it’s emphasized for effect, instantly revealing an I don’t give a shit who’s precious morals we offend with that word or what it means attitude. Guys we FUCK! Guys we FOOOK!  The words come courtesy of Corinne and Krystyna, standup comedians who’ve used their gift of humor to effectively become sex and relationship therapists for thousands of millennial women. Using the name Sorry About Last Night, they started their phenomenally popular podcast Guys We Fucked after Corinne was dumped in a Panera Bread restaurant. Along with Krystyna, she parlayed that heartbreak (or momentary inconvenience)  into an influential online empire. Their anti-slut shaming podcast features interviews with guys they’ve  slept with, resulting in some seriously funny moments and some serious life lessons.

In the past 2 years, they have interviewed countless comedians and other people with cool sexual stories. These self-proclaimed feminist women have used their platform to empower women’s sexuality. I got to speak with them about sex, podcasting, slut shaming and more.

How has the podcast affected your real life relationships and sex life? Like, are you more inclined to try new things (i.e. sex clubs, threesomes, etc) to talk about them on the podcast?

Krystyna: The podcast has affected my sex life with my boyfriend, Stephen, in a lot of ways, both good and bad. We had a major fight after he listened to the first few episodes because I enthusiastically shouted to the world that he loves to get his butt hole licked. His freak-out was totally understandable, especially considering he lives a very private life. I mean, he JUST recently put a profile picture of himself on his social media. I think Stephen knew I was going to divulge some personal things, but it came as a big shock when he listened because I blurted a lot out without getting his consent first. Now, if we try something new in bed or if something goes awry as we try to bone, I ask if he’s cool with me talking about it on the podcast. We recently had our first ever threeway experience which was a big success and brought us closer together. I give major credit to the podcast for making that happen, specifically our past guest, comedian Chrissie Mayer. She was a unicorn in several threeways and after hearing her talk about the fun she had, I was inspired to take action and make it happen. I’ve talked to Stephen a lot about wanting to have a threeway in the past and he was on board (duh), but every time he would try to take action, I would chicken out. The podcast has taught me that I need to speak up about my fantasies instead of waiting around for him to make the move. And to anyone reading this, I say: If an idea titillates you, talk to your partner about it and see if they would be on board! Hell, even talking about a threeway with Stephen and incorporating it into dirty talk made our sex hotter.

Corinne: While cathartic in some ways, the podcast has kind of put a damper on my bachelorette lifestyle because I can no longer trust peoples’ motives for wanting to sleep with me. And that’s sad because I am not famous. At all. I feel like, if anything, I am more sexually conservative than when we started – mostly because knowing you will have to talk about something if you do it really helps you filter out questionable decisions you might’ve otherwise poo-pooed. I absolutely never do anything just to talk about it on the podcast. Believe me, I had been to an S&M club ages before Guys We Fucked was even a glimmer in my mind. I am and have always been a sexually explorative person. As far as relationships go, after almost two years of doing this, I’m just not sure it’s possible to start a new relationship that is healthy under these circumstances. But only time will tell.

Have you encountered people who want to fuck you just to be on the podcast? Or the opposite- people who don’t want to fuck you because they don’t want you to talk about it?

Krystyna: I make it pretty clear that I’m in a relationship, so very rarely do I get approached by guys we are trying to get it in.

Corinne: I have encountered many people* who want to fuck me just to be on the podcast. Dear god, aim higher, this isn’t even televised. I have not encountered anyone who won’t fuck me because of the podcast. I mean, remember I’m fucking straight guys here! But I think many people who could’ve been potential boyfriends remained purely physical because of the podcast – not because they didn’t want to talk about the sex on air, just because straight men don’t stereotypically have an ego that can handle a girl who has fucked a lot of guys and spoken about it very publicly in great detail. And, that, my friends, is why slut shaming came to be in the first place. Let’s control these women who are getting what they want and enjoying it by telling them what they are doing is gross and devalues them. It’s pretty genius, really. If religion is the opiate of the masses, slut-shaming is the herding of the whores.

*comics

Since this is an anti-slut shaming podcast- how have you experience slut shaming/sexism? How do you think the podcast is helping to change that?

Krystyna: I’ve had many instances of cat-calling since my double D’s came in. The ones that infuriate me the most are when I don’t answer the guy, or tell him to stop talking to me, and he responds with “FUCK YOU BITCH, YOU UGLY ANYWAY!”. Doing the podcast and talking that frustration out has made it clear that those dudes are just butt-hurt that you don’t want to entertain their advances. It still blows my mind when it happens, I will say. One theory that Corinne and I talked about early on in the podcast is that whenever a person uses the term Slut/Whore/Ho/Etc. in a malicious way, it comes from one of two places: 1) They’re angry that you don’t want to sleep with them or they perceive you to be the type of person who would never give them the time of day or 2) They are threatened by how comfortable you are with your sexuality. For this reason, we really try and encourage people to be as comfortable with their sexuality and themselves as possible, whether you love sex and sleep with whoever you want or you aren’t that sexual or you’re a virgin or you  prefer to save sex for someone you’re in love with! None of these mindsets are “wrong” and if more people were comfortable with themselves, they would stop drinking so much Hater-ade and put an end to projecting their insecurities on to others.

Corinne: Every particular group of people experiences shitty stuff that is unique to that group and women are no different. I’m not one to go around belly-aching about injustice – I’ve led a fucking nice life so far and I’m pleased as punch and super grateful – but what I will say is that it’s crazy to me that in the year 2015, after we’ve put a white man on the moon and a black man in the White House, that I just got barked at on the street last night because I was wearing tight pants. I think the podcast is just part of this amazing feminism revolution that’s happening right now – Krystyna and I are two of many strong voices that I don’t think a lot of people, especially men, really even thought were out there. I think the podcast takes this statistic of women not being treated equally and puts two faces to it.

What was the experience of being censored by iTunes and then being number 1 on iTunes like?

Krystyna: That gave me so much reassurance and joy. When we were initially censored, we weren’t told exactly why and it was a frustrating battle to get in touch with someone at iTunes who could explain the removal. Fortunately, the listeners rallied with us and tweeted at/emailed iTunes and it worked! We got a phone call a few days later from Apple, they explained the mishap and put us back on the charts that day. I understand that from looking at the title of the podcast, most people think one thing and then after listening, have a totally different impression of the show and what we are all about. We did that on purpose. iTunes promotes and sells songs that have extremely misogynistic messages and that’s fine because: Freedom of speech! We got that point across to them, and I’m happy to say Apple was very apologetic and understanding.

Corinne: It was like the first time “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls came out and then when Geri left the Spice Girls. But reversed.

Does talking about sex all the time make sex less sexy? I’ve always been afraid that if I made something I love my job I would stop loving it, but I don’t know if that would apply to sex. What are your thoughts?

Krystyna: YES! It really does. It’s like if you work at a coffee shop and all your friends talked to you about coffee when you are at work and then when you go out to bars your friends are still talking to you about coffee and their issues with coffee. The last thing you’ll want after that is a cup of coffee. Ok, I’m being a little dramatic, but it does make sex stale at times. What always brings me back to loving what we do is when we hear from the listeners about how much it’s helped them feel better about themselves or improved their sex life. We have received so many mind blowing emails from people who have overcome the most horrific circumstances and they tell us something like, “and then I started listening to your podcast and was finally able to see myself as a sexual being.” That is the most priceless thing to me. Corinne and I are big on doing comedy with a purpose and this show has a very important purpose to a lot of people all over the world and I couldn’t be happier about that.

Corinne: Dear god yes. At this point, apart from when I’m actually recording the podcast, I would rather talk about anything in the entire world except sex. Including sports. Ok, actually, I just took that way too far. Number one thing I don’t want to talk about off-air is sports, number two is sex. I get sick of things very quickly. After I graduated film school, I didn’t go to the movies for an entire calendar year. I think the reason behind this is that I have a severely over-analytical mind (like, Dawson Leery bad) and so once my brain is trained to dissect a topic I can’t shut it off, and, instead, I just need to avoid whatever that topic is at all costs. In this case, sex. Sex is so much about losing yourself and it’s very hard to lose yourself when you’re thinking about the deeper meaning in why the guy you’ve always done missionary with suddenly decided to initiate doggy after a weird text exchange earlier that week when Mercury was most definitely in retrograde.

Is it difficult or weird to put so much of your personal life out there? I mean, I know from listening regularly I feel like I know you guys. Do people you meet act like they already know you just from listening?

Krystyna: It is, but I’ve been listening to podcasts for a long time now and I’ve felt the same way about people like Marc Maron. I geeked out so hard when I met him because I felt like we were good friends. When I would listen to his show, I could tell when he had a crush on his guest, I could tell when he felt intimidated by them or when he didn’t like them, I could tell when he was having an off day because his cat ran away. It’s such a unique situation because a podcast listener has a one-way intimate relationship with the hosts. When people meet us at shows they all say they feel like they know us, but I completely understand/love that part.

Corinne: It’s very weird. I wouldn’t say it’s difficult because that’s obnoxious since this was our fucking dumb ass idea in the first place, but it’s stressful for sure and I struggle with it a lot. It’s funny, all I ever wanted to be was famous, the most over-exposed thing you can be, and now that I have this teeny little taste of notoriety I honestly think anyone who enjoys fame must be mentally unstable. Like monogamy, it’s completely unnatural. I try not to think about it too much so that the podcast can continue to be as open and honest as it always has been. The fuckers definitely come up to us with a lot of knowledge of who we are, but I wouldn’t call it an act because, hey, they do. This podcast is the ultimate overshare. That being said, while a lot of people know a lot of loose (pun totally intended) facts about me, I think a lot of people still fall short of truly grasping who I am. And that’s not to say that I, in particular, am so complex, but I think humans in general are just more complex than even the most personal podcast would be able to capture. And I find great comfort in that.

What value do you think women discussing sex openly and honestly has?

Krystyna: It encourages other women to be honest and more accepting of their sexual choices. I also think there is a huge benefit for men listening to the show, we’ve heard it a lot in emails. Men listen to the podcast and it gives them more insight into what women are thinking sexually because traditionally, straight women aren’t open about that with straight men. It’s funny because we’ll talk about sex very openly… to the people we AREN’T having sex with. Most slut shaming is rooted in the fact that our society isn’t comfortable hearing women owning their sexuality but I’m very happy to report that both men and women seem to want more of this in their lives because side effects include things like having better sex!

Corinne: I think, quite simply, when you talk about something publicly, when you stop hiding something, the “shame” naturally melts away. Secrecy and shame go hand-in-hand — once secrecy peaces out, shame is left at the party without its wingman. It’s like, if we all start talking about this thing, we’ll all start realizing that we all are thinking these same “fucked up” thoughts. And, if everyone is having similar thoughts, common sense says they aren’t so much fucked up as they are perfectly human.

You have had episodes on serious subjects such as pedophilia, abortions and rape. What’s a perspective/story you would like to have on the podcast that you haven’t had yet?

Krystyna: One story that I really want to cover is from the perspective of the perpetrator in those situations. I want to talk to a rapist or a pedophile because while we hear stories from the victims of these horrible events, we NEVER hear from the fucked up mind that is carrying these things out and that would at least give me some insight and understanding. It would be very difficult to be in the same room as one of these people, but as Corinne has said on the podcast time and time again, if our society just casts these people away as monsters never to be seen again, it won’t solve the problem. Not saying that hearing one of these people will solve it, but it will at least give us some important information as to why these desires arise in the first place.

Corinne: We, like society, tend to concentrate on the perspective of the victim. I, however, am a firm believer that if we talk to the “bad person”, if we learn how he/she thinks, why he/she did what they did, maybe, in the future, we can have less victims. It’s all about understanding. And, to fully understand something, you must see it from all angles. So, I would like to speak to a rapist and a pedophile. I truly don’t believe many people wake up in the morning with the goal of being evil. I think, for the most part, people try to do the best they can with what they have while carrying all the baggage they have accrued over the years. So, what brings someone to treat a fellow human with such lack of dignity? That’s a conversation I want to be a part of.

What is the number one thing you want listeners to take away from the podcast?

Krystyna: Be comfortable and happy with who you are and the choices you make. If you aren’t happy with yourself, take a step back, re-evaluate and make the necessary changes that YOU feel you should make (not your friends or your parents or your co-workers). It’s not an easy thing to do, but the world will be a better, happier place if we all did!

Corinne: Confidence. It’s the number one thing lacking in pretty much everyone I know. And I’m not talking about wearing the word ‘CONFIDENT’ screen-printed on a tee from Forever 21. I’m talking about a true sense of self, or at least the foundation to start building that. You are in charge of quality control for one product and that is you – don’t be an item that gets recalled.

I love the collaboration you did with Poprageous- the leggings are obviously making a statement and by wearing them I would say that it’s a way of reclaiming these words. Do you think reclaiming the word slut helps women to be sexually liberated? 

Krystyna: I do! I think it’s another way of taking ownership of your sexuality. Plus, it’s a great conversation starter.

Corinne: First off, thank you SO much. Secondly, it’s like, if I’m wearing these words on spandex that’s cradling my vagina, obviously I am comfortable with them and it’s you who is not. We are the ones who give words meaning, so why would we ever let a word that women are called way too often have a negative connotation? Sure, call me a slut – it says it on my leggings!

 

Private Partners

 There was no one on the planet that could anger me quite like the man sitting across from me at the conference table.  It was if he made a point to counter any statement I made with some obscure fact that negated my argument.  We were both partners in our law firm and why he was so intent on undermining me was a mystery unless it was because I had repeatedly refused to sleep with him.  It wasn’t that I wasn’t inclined, but he had been up for partner after I had already made it.  I wasn’t about to let some overzealous lawyer sandbag me with office scandal.

Now, he was a pain in my ass and I was tired of it.  I decided I was done with his games.  I had never denied that he wasn’t incredibly fuckable.  He took care of himself and had those dark good looks that make women swoon.  Most of his clientele were rich divorcees who, no doubt, got more than one bang for their buck.  Angry at his latest attempt to minimalize my talking points, I sat seething in my office for hours after the other partners were gone.  Finally, I threw the brief I had been rage writing into my briefcase and stormed out.

There was light coming from his office, though the rest of the floor was dark.  Seeing an opportunity to corner him and end this nonsense once and for all, I yanked open his door and found myself face to face with him hunched over his desk working on something I couldn’t quite make out from my side of the desk.

“What are you doing?” The look on his face was one of confusion and shock.  It almost made me laugh.

“The bigger question is, “What are you doing?”  I am sick of your tactics to make me look like a fool in front of the other partners.  What is your problem?”

There it was, that smirk that made me just want to shove him out a window somewhere and walk away.  I stood looking at him for a moment.  This wasn’t the way to go about this.  I was a woman.  He was a man.  If I wanted to shut him up, I would have to speak a language he could understand.  My face instantly softened as I smiled down at him, walking around his desk as I spoke.

“Who dresses you?  Your Mom?  That tie is hideous.  Do you have another one?”

“Now, you are just being mean.”

I walked over to his office closet, where I found several spare ties.  Pulling a couple of them free, I walked toward him with them in hand.  I could see his surprise when I knelt down and turned his chair toward me.  He watched, completely mesmerized, as I used his ties to tie a single hand to each arm of his chair.  I removed the one around his neck and used it to tie his feet to the bottom of his chair, but only after I had stripped off his pants and underwear.

“Listen up.  We are going to be friends.  I’m going to offer you an olive branch that only you can truly appreciate and then you are going to back off.  Fair enough?”

“Sure, why not?”

The broad smile on his face told me that he thought he was winning whatever this little contest of his was.  That was okay.  I was about to get two things I wanted.  He was going to be a good little puppy from now on and I was going to get laid, something I hadn’t had time for in quite a while now.  I let him watch as I got undressed.

“Oh, yes.  Let me touch you.  You’re just as beautiful as I imagined you would be.”  He was almost panting, which meant that he was mine.

“No touching.  Not yet.”

Straddling him, I began riding him slowly as he leaned forward, attempting to capture a bouncing nipple in his mouth.  I leaned back each time, denying him access as I plunged down harder and harder on his swollen phallus.  I had expected him to be quick.  He wasn’t.  His staying power was quite incredible, in fact.

My original intent had been to fuck him and leave him here tied to his chair, but I was enjoying this so much I thought I might keep him around as a toy for later use.  Reaching down, I untied his hands and allowed him to touch me.  He rained kisses on my breasts and shoulders as he continued to drill me harder with each stroke.  We came almost simultaneously, collapsing against one another.

Now, we have an understanding.  He doesn’t make me look bad and, in turn, I make it worth his while.

~Andrea

San Jose

A Modern Happily Ever After?

 

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a beautiful princess stood across from a handsome prince and spoke her vows before her family and devoted supporters. From then on, admirers held her marriage in the highest regard, envious of the love her and the prince clearly share. Little do they know that late into many evenings, after all the land is nestled in their beds, this beautiful princess retires her royal garb, slips on her stiletto heels, and travels to neighboring lands in search of wealthy patrons. As a professional companion, the princess maintains her healthy glow and funds her love of lavish gowns by warming the loins of her devoted fans by candlelight before returning to her thrown at the rise of the sun.Over breakfast, the prince listens open-mindedly to tales of her affairs with affection, only wanting to make her happy. It is the new Happily Ever After.

Although she claims bipolar disorder and post-partem depression, two very serious conditions, drove her to an advanced sexual state, former Olympic runner, Suzy Favor Hamilton seems to have figured out the secret to a successful open marriage: Escorting. She reveals her experience in her recently published memoir, Fast Girl: A Life Spent Running from Madness. As college sweethearts, Suzy and her husband found that their once steamy sex life was falling flat, and like many scandalous tales, this one begins to sizzle in a Las Vegas hotel room with her husband and a hired escort. It’s after this experience that she and her husband decide to begin their journey towards their own version of Happily Ever After. A version filled with guilt-free sexual exploitation with hired partners. The ultimate marital freedom.

Isn’t this what we all want? To find that one person who’s your best friend and companion through life, but who will also understand that when the sex gets dull, it’s okay to stray? I mean, it’s just sex! And sex without intimacy is harmless, right? Well, this is certainly what Hamilton and her husband thought.

Spoil Alert: Things get awkward.

Readers are sure to cringe (or thrill) as Suzy enthusiastically tells her husband detailed accounts of each of her juicy escorting feats, as he nods along, unwilling to put an end to her newfound happiness. Suzy just can’t seem to pick up on his discomfort and since he gave her the green light to become an escort, she continues to head to Vegas every few weeks, taking on the persona of her deliciously sexy alter ego,“Kelly”.

So, how did she get her husband to go along with this? It was a steady progression accomplished by following several rather simple steps.

Step 1: Have a Three-way

Suzy and her husband agree to hire a female escort on their anniversary trip to Vegas, beginning the necessary conversation that hiring someone for sex is unemotional and should not be considered cheating. By giving her husband the permission to be with another woman, she was able to get her husband to be more open to her being with another man. Because if hiring a female escort is okay, why not a male escort as well?

Step 2: Hire an escort on your own

After Suzy and her husband get home from their trip, she decides that it’s only fair that she get to explore her attraction to women on her own. And her husband agrees. Why wouldn’t he? It’s just another woman. But then she casually slips into the conversation that she might hire a male escort as well. She’ll already be in Vegas, it only makes sense to take advantage, right? Since her husband had already agreed that hiring a female escort would be okay, denying her the right to hire a male escort seems just…wrong. She seals the deal by saying, “He’s an escort. It’s not like I’m going to have a relationship with him. It’s just for fun.”

Step 3: A solution to his financial complaints

Escorts are expensive! Between the flights, hotel bills, and hired entertainment, her husband had every right to ask her to quit this habit. So, what’s Suzy’s solution? To become an escort herself of course! This way she’ll still be able to have great sex and simultaneously cover the cost of her travels.

And just like that, with the approval of her husband, Suzy successfully formed an open marriage in just three simple steps. Of course, in the end, it didn’t work out for them. Mostly because she had a well-known face in the nineties and the press started to catch on. But for us normal folk, would this work? Is this the key to a modern Happily Ever After?

Gray Rape: What it is. How to Avoid it

 A few years ago, I had a “meeting” with someone who was a member of my general social circle, but not someone I would describe as a friend.  I use the quotation marks around “meeting” because I was told we were going to discuss the possibility of me doing some writing work for a project he was starting, but I suspected other motivations on his part.  We had met years before when we were dating a pair of sisters and then ran into each other again on a fetish dating website, so we knew of each other’s proclivities and he had made it no secret that he was attracted to me.  I was in an open relationship at the time, which he knew as well.  My attraction level to him at that point was fairly non-existent and could’ve gone either way depending on how things went as we got to know each other better.

The meeting took place at his house and began w

ith wine.  Once things got a little tipsy, he started massaging my feet and I didn’t protest.  Though I was in a relationship, our sex life had been going through a lull and the physical touch felt good.  We did talk about business for a while, but nothing much of consequence was said.  Then the conversation turned to a more personal, more sexual nature and this did not disturb me.  Given my career and lifestyle choices, I frequently have conversations that center around sex, so this was not unusual.  He came around eventually to propositioning me and suggesting a BDSM encounter between us.  I did not reject the idea.  In fact, I acknowledged that it may be a possibility in the future, but said I didn’t want to do anything tonight.  I was tired and I wanted to get home to my partner.  He said okay and changed the subject, poured me another glass of wine.  He continued to rub my feet and slowly move farther up my leg.  Again, the touch felt good, but I wasn’t ready to go any further with him that night.  I reiterated that I had to get going and actually stood up to leave at one point.  He was a smooth talker and ended up convincing me to stay.  Then it was “just one kiss,” then it was “let’s go into the bedroom,” then a blindfold was put on me and then some harsh treatment of my breasts and a rough blowjob ensued.  It stopped there and I went to the bathroom, saw the damage done to my easily bruised skin.  I cried a little in the bathroom, but put on a composed face before going back out.  He asked if I was okay.  I said that it was too intense for me at the time and I didn’t enjoy it.  He apologized.  We hugged.  I went home.  I never once said no.

Some people, including many people that I personally know, would call this rape.  I would not.  This is the kind of situation that falls into the weird, uncertain area of “grey rape”, a term popularized by Cosmopolitan magazine in a 2007 article that discussed the “new kind of date rape” that results in one or both parties being confused about whether what happened between them can actually be called rape.  The term has come up a lot in discussions of what the media and the American president have dubbed the epidemic of campus sexual assault plaguing the nation’s colleges.  It was bandied about after an episode of HBO’sGirls showed one of the lead characters having a sexual experience with a guy she was dating which she did not enjoy during or after, but to which she never explicitly said no.  It’s a dangerous term, because rape is a serious crime and an incredibly traumatic and damaging event in a person’s life and when we call a sexual encounter that we didn’t like, but didn’t expressly refuse, the same thing, it threatens to delegitimize and take the power away from the word itself.

Based on my own experience, I have a few suggestions for how to avoid being involved in a grey rape situation.  My intention is not to victim-blame or slut-shame, but as women who are fully in control of and enjoying our sexuality, we need to take some responsibility to make sure our sexual encounters with all our partners are as mutually satisfying, respectful and safe as possible.  These are things both sexes could incorporate and remember, especially in an increasingly casual hook-up culture.

 Be Clear About Consent And Mean It

If you want to have sex, come out and say, “I want to have sex.”  Don’t be vague.  Don’t be coy.  You’re a modern woman and your desire should not only be allowed, but encouraged.  If you don’t want to have sex, say, “I don’t want to have sex,” and then, importantly, don’t have sex.  If you’re not sure if you want to have sex, say, “I’m not sure if I want to have sex,” then move on to the next step to figure out how to talk about hard and flexible limits.

 Know The Difference Between Hard Limits And Flexible Ones

Hard limits is a term that most people outside the BDSM community may not be familiar with, unless they’ve read 50 Shades Of Grey, I suppose.  These are the boundaries that you are not willing to cross under any circumstances or, at the very least, without serious, sober discussion and consideration well ahead of the act.  Whether you’re into the BDSM scene or not, it can’t hurt to discuss hard limits with a sexual partner before things get started.  Once you set these limits though, do not go back on them in the heat of the moment.  If you’ve decided that oral is okay, but any intercourse is out, keep it out.  At least until you’ve had time to think about it and discuss it together before your next encounter.

 Eliminate The Intoxication Issue

The effects of alcohol and drugs are a huge issue when it comes to grey rape since it can be so difficult to tell how much a person’s judgement is impaired when they are drunk or high.  One person might easily do their taxes after a case of beer while another might be completely out of the range of sound mind after a couple.  Even if an intoxicated person directly says, “I want to have sex,” they may be too incapacitated to make that decision legally.  Things get even dicier when both parties are wasted and it becomes harder for either person to determine if the other is sober enough to make the right decision.  The best policy is to be completely sober while having sex, but, let’s be honest, a lot less sex would happen that way.  It’s not exactly realistic to avoid any intoxicated sexual activity in a culture where drinking is the norm in clubs, on campuses and in our homes.  So, with that in mind, keep the drinking to a minimum, especially during your first encounters with a new partner.

Get Your Shit Together

Human beings have sex for all kinds of reasons:  physical gratification, affection, self-validation, loneliness, status, societal expectation.  Not all of these are good reasons to have sex.  If your desire to be with someone is born of insecurity, isolation, a desire to fit in and do what’s expected or other general mental fucked-up-ed-ness, there is a good chance that you will feel bad about having sex after it’s all over.  Again, it’s not exactly realistic to expect that we will never have sex when (or because) we’re feeling shitty.  It’s human nature to want to fill up voids with something that feels good and damn the consequences, but you are much more likely to come away with a positive experience if you go into it with the right intentions and motivations.

Don’t Worry About Your Reputation

A lot of people stick with a sexual situation that doesn’t feel right to them because they’re worried about what the other person will think if they put the brakes on.  This happens a lot to younger people, but any of us are susceptible to it whenever we’re feeling less than confident in ourselves.  What if the other person gets angry and never wants to see you again?  What if they call you a tease?  What if they spread rumours about you in your social circle?  What if they just don’t think you’re as cool and sex-positive and open as you want them to think you are?  First of all, there’s very little chance that any of that is going to happen, especially once you’ve graduated high school.  Regardless, none of that matters if you’re going to leave the encounter feeling bad about it.  If it’s not right, don’t do it.Anyone’s who is not willing to wait for you to figure out what you really want is not worth having sex with anyway.

Get The Fuck Out!

There were several points during the experience I described above at which I could have and should have just left the premises.  I should have left because I wasn’t sure about this guy yet.  I should have left because I said I was going to leave and made excuses in order to leave.  I should have left when I started not liking what was happening.  I should have left because I could.  I should have left to give myself time to think about whether it was something I wanted to pursue or not.  I didn’t leave and it ended up being an unpleasant piece of my sexual history that I hope not to repeat by being clearer, more sober, mentally healthier and less worried about what anyone else thinks in the future.

Regret isn’t a bad thing.  It teaches us what to do differently in the future and helps us set a standard for ourselves.

The Greek Girl’s Guide to Feminism

 Thousands of bright-eyed young women enter college campuses across the country every September. If there is Greek life on campus, many will be faced with the decision of whether or not to rush. Joining a sorority can often seem like the biggest decision she’ll need to make at that momentbecause it can shape your entire college experience. If you’re still trying to figure out what and who you are, like many college freshmen, the idea of joining a sorority can be extremely appealing. Who wouldn’t want the big, terrifying world of college suddenly narrowed down to a close-knit group of girls?

But the reason that makes a sorority so appealing is also the reason why it can be daunting. College is supposed to be scary, unknown territory. It can be nerve-wracking to join a group might tell you how to dress, what to say, who to see. Based on the stereotypes of Greek life, freshmen girls might think there is a ring-leader in every sorority and she has to be mean to the incoming fresh meat – after all, what about hazing?

Today’s women grew up in a politicized environment. We are the children of the first and second waves of feminism, the products of the social upheavals and sexual revolution of the 1960s.  Women’s equality is a battle we’re still waging but now we’re winning it. We’re wiser at our age than our mothers were and have complete autonomy of our minds and bodies.  College girls may be attracted to the sisterly bonding and party girl image sororities have but the misogynistic history and structure of Greek life might be off-putting to some.  After all, “Greek” live gets its namesake (and letters) from ancient Greece, a society where women had no legal personhood and were assumed to be part of the oikos headed by the male kyrios.

How can this be reconciled?

As with most things, your experience depends on the sorority and it depends on the school. Joining a sorority is, by definition, overwhelming. If your school has fall rush, then you go from being a high school student, to a rushing freshman, to a sorority “new member.” If there’s winter rush instead, as soon as you understand college, you are thrown into completely different territory. Sorority members receive weekly social updates, telling the members where the parties and mixers are that week. Members’ inboxes are bombarded with quizzes, announcements, updates, schedule changes, and questions. As a new member, you want to attend every meeting and every event, for the fear of being left behind.

It can be difficult to find your feminist voice when you are trying to fit in like this.

When you are a new member in a sorority, it can be intimidating to speak up. You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the seniors, or in front of your own pledge class, for fear of alienating yourself. After all, even though they are your new sisters, you still need to form a genuine relationship with them. Greek life in general can sometimes feel like an uphill battle against feminism. The “hook up culture” is especially prominent amongst sororities and fraternities, and it can feel especially patriarchal, since all the parties and any sexual encounters are on the boys’ terms.

Set the Example, Be the Change

As you, the new member, become more comfortable with your pledge class, you will begin to talk about these issues with some of your new friends. It will start out innocuous, talking about everyone’s hook up horror stories on Saturday morning, and then talking about why we have to do a walk of shame after a night of carnal debauchery when the boys only have to do a walk. You may question the tradition of only have parties at fraternity houses, NEVER Sorority houses, and how terrifying it is to be there alone for fear of what could happen to you.

After you have the support of this small group of new sisters, your confidence grows. You plant seeds by questioning the patriarchal traditions that are part of Greek life. You realize stereotypes about sororities, or girls in general, are inherently wrong.

Speaking out about these issues doesn’t embarrass you in front of the seniors anymore. On the contrary, they’ve been thinking about these same issues for years and you begin building allies and winning over girls to your point of view. But overcoming several centuries of tradition won’t happen overnight.

Start a Sorority within a Sorority – Don’t just be a Greek, be a Spartan!

The status of women in most of the Greek world was similar to the status of women under the Taliban and other Middle Eastern countries today. But Sparta was different. Spartawas a prominent city-state in ancient Greece known for two things – their dominant military and a social structure that put women on equal – and sometimes superior footing – than the men in their society.

Observers from other Greek cities were appalled that, not only did Spartan women have opinions, they were not afraid to voice them in public.

Women were revered for their child-bearing capabilities and female Spartan babies were significantly more nourished than other female Greek children. In their youth, female Spartans competed in gymnastics, wrestling, foot and horse races. Women were also known to compete in the Olympics and other important athletic events, usually wrestling.

Women were educated to read and write and trained in the arts, music, dancing, and poetry. Under Spartan law, women could be landowners and inherit wealth from their fathers and husbands – something unheard of in the ancient world.

Spartan women, according to historians, were very open sexually. Visitors to ancient Sparta have written that married women could sleep with other men on a whim, leading some to believe they were polyandrous.

Consequently, Spartan women were allowed to divorce their husbands without fear of losing their personal wealth. As equal citizens of the community, women could divorce and were not required to or discouraged from remarrying.

In a frequently quoted incident, the wife of King Leonidas was asked why Spartan women were the only women in Greece who “ruled” their husbands. Gorgo replied, “Because we are the only women who give birth to men.”  In other words, only men with the self-confidence to accept women as equals were men at all.

With Sparta being a part of ancient Greece, imagine the attention and notoriety your Sorority would get by having a Spartan committee to advance female equality in the Greek system?

Membership has its privileges

One of the many wonderful aspects of being a part of a sorority is all the connections that are made. There is likely a girl in almost every club in the school, which puts sorority members in a unique position to create change and exert influence. You probably have connections to feminist groups on campus, to student government, and to hundreds of other clubs without even realizing it. If you wanted to sit in on a student government meeting, just send out an email blast to ask who’s in the club, and your sister will likely happily have you tag along.

Because of all the stereotypes there are about Greek life, many people think being a sorority girl and a feminist at the same time is contradictory. You can prove them wrong. You can show them that you can be feminine and sisterly and still have self-respect and be an outspoken feminist. The world just sees the letters you wear. But you, as the now experienced member, see all the wonderful sisters who wear the letters with you. You, as a member of Greek life, have a fantastic support system of young women trying to figure out the world and women’s issues just like you are. Again, depending on your school and your sorority, Greek life is likely a generally close-knit group. It’s not just your sorority. You have an unspoken bond with all the sororities and fraternities on your own campus, and anyone who wears your letters nation-wide. What once seemed intimidating to you now seems comforting. But to the rest of the world? Two hundred girls passionate about women’s rights? The world better watch out.

Women and Sexting: Why We Shouldn’t Be Ashamed

 Sexting.  The term was defined by the court in United States v. Broxmeyer (2010) as the exchange of sexually explicit text messages, including photographs, via cell phone. However, Merriam-Webster’s collegiate dictionary claims the first known use of the word was in 2007.

Needless to say, sexting isn’t new–so why is it taking the world so long to accept sexting as an act of consensual sexual expression? More importantly: why are women the ones bearing the brunt of the shame?

In 2014, a number of women celebrities had their cell phones hacked, and their self-taken nude photos exposed to the internet. The torrent of victim-blaming and slut-shaming that followed was enough to make any woman second guess sexting for herself.

New York Times tech columnist Nick Bilton tweeted, “Put together a list of tips for celebs after latest leaks: 1. Don’t take nude selfies 2. Don’t take nude selfies 3. Don’t take nude selfies.” Ricky Gervais made a similar joke on Twitter: “Celebrities, make it harder for hackers to get nude pics of you from your computer by not putting nude pics of yourself on your computer.” Clay Aiken told the Washington Post, “Anybody who takes inappropriate pictures of themselves deserves exactly what they get.”

The stars affected by the recent mass leak of nude photos aren’t the first to be publicly shamed for their choices of sexual expression.

In 2007, Disney’s High School Musical star Vanessa Hudgens fell victim to a similar trauma. Disney’s response? They chalked it up to a “lapse in judgment” by Hudgens, adding that they “hope she’s learned a valuable lesson.” The notion that sexting is wrong, and these women should never have done so in the first place removes the blame for the heinous crime of exploiting these photos from the hacker and instead places the shame on the women. The idea that these women behaved themselves inappropriately, and therefore deserve the humiliation they received is patronizing, and misogynistic.

What’s most unfortunate about the association of sexting with embarrassing behavior, is the sense of disgrace and disgust internalized by women who sext. We cannot ignore the gendered implications of these media bashings. The explicit message sent to women who sext is that they should not express their sexuality through any technological means. This attitude is part of a universal context in which women are denied their sexual agency, and their related behaviors are demeaned, criticized, and demoralized. These ideas manifest in women’s sense of dignity, ultimately leading women to feel as though they’ve done something wrong. If exposed, women feel required to defend their actions, but not their sexual agency.

Jennifer Lawrence, one of the stars most notably affected by the recent leak, told Vanity Fair, “I was in a loving, healthy, great relationship for four years. It was long distance, and either your boyfriend is going to look at porn or he’s going to look at you.” Here, Lawrence, like so many other women, feels compelled to create an excuse for her behavior. Mary E. Winstead, another celebrity who had her privacy violated, tweeted “To those of you looking at photos I took with my husband years ago in the privacy of our home, hope you feel great about yourselves.” Winstead, here felt the need to highlight the fact that these photos are old, as if to say that she’s learned better since then. Vanessa Hudgens opted not to defend her actions and, instead, simply accepted the shame placed on her by the public. She issued an apology: “I am embarrassed over this situation and regret having ever taken these photos.”

Women should never need to defend their choices of sexual expression.  They shouldn’t have to explain themselves or their actions. The women affected by the hacking didn’t need to speak out at all. But they did, and it was so important that their voices were heard.

Although any type of conversation takes place between two or more parties, the parties most often penalized for partaking in a sexting conversation are women. Men are rarely shamed for sexting. Roxane Gay wrote, in an article for The Guardian, “The further away you are from living as a white, heterosexual, middle-class man, the less privacy you enjoy.” A woman’s choice of sexual expression never belongs to her. It is always the decision of the patriarchal society around her. So if a woman and a man involve themselves in a sexting conversation, and someone else becomes aware of it, the woman’s behavior is criticized. This criticism is often referred to as “slut shaming,” or, as described earlier, denying women their right to sexual agency.

There are, of course, documented cases in which men received incredibly negative attention for their sexting conversations, after having their privacy exposed to the media. Anthony Weiner was infamously thrust out of politics after enduring two instances of sexting photo leaks to the internet. However, right alongside with Weiner were “Weiner’s Women,” receiving a rivaling amount of negative attention. The women with whom Weiner engaged in sexual texting conversations were shamed by major media sources such as Fox News. Even the New York Times published an op ed, written by Susan Jacoby, demeaning the women’s behavior.

These media messages aimed at women who sext are intended to remind us that women cannot be sexual however and whenever they please. As Gay says, “We are never allowed to forget how the rules are different (for) girls.”

It’s not a shame that women sext; it’s a shame that in the year 2015, people are still offended that women dare to express themselves sexually.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t sent nude pictures of yourself to someone you feel comfortable sharing with,” tweeted Alyssa Milano, another victim to the photo leak in 2014.

Regardless of the sexist and biased connotations of sexting, the morality of the activity in general remains in question, which is strange, considering it is the same sort of behavior one would normally partake in, were the conversation or exchange a face to face experience. If you would share your body with someone behind closed doors, what reason do you have to feel ashamed of doing the same via text?

Society vilifies sexually explicit conversations via text messaging, deeming the act to be deviant or perverted behavior. However, sexting, when not exploited by oppressors, is not the social evil that it is considered to be. In an age when most of our lives have distended to include the digital realm, it should be completely understandable that sexting is now a normal part of sexual expression.

Greek Girl on Hookups: Games are for Kids

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