Dick in Jane

Did you know that penis size is correlated to genetic viability? It’s true. Big penises fair well in the environment. Growing up, all I heard from people was “big dick” this and “big dick” that. “Bigger is better”, etc etc. I grew up thinking that a big penis would result in a successful pair bond (see: relationship). So, imagine my surprise when I saw my first penis (let’s forget about the fact that I was in college), and it wasn’t as big as I thought it would be and actually complained about it to my friends.

I don’t know why I did that. I wasn’t going to sleep with the dude. I just had this picture in my mind of having a big penis. I was so ingrained to think that a big penis meant I’d have better sex (when I decided 10 years later that I’d have sex).

My first time was with an average sized penis. He fit in me okay and the sex was good. Soon thereafter, I’ve had pretty average sizes with a small one thrown in every now and then. In fact, I just assumed that the average sizes I was being pelted with (no pun intended, okay, pun is intended) were in fact “big dicks”. Up until Enrique, I’ve never experienced a “big dick”.

So as you’ve read, I couldn’t take Enrique. It hurt, barely fit in me, and I never invited him back over again. So it got me thinking what the big hype was with size. I could barely take an average guy (I mean, I’m physically shallow, so that makes sense), but how deep could an average female be? I mean physically, we females are all able to expand to all kinds of crazy sizes, but let’s be serious, even a rubber band has a breaking point.

Okay, so my friend Dom has a big penis. He’s not afraid to admit it and has confessed to me that many girls aren’t able to take it. In fact, only one of the girls he’s been with is able to take it easily. Dom is very good-looking, successful, smart, and has a big penis, it just makes him even more genetically superior. Or so we think.

Moving forward, I want to stick with average guys or less. I’m sorry fellows, but I’m pushing 30. My pussy is in its prime and I can’t go breaking it with some huge ass dude who thinks he’s getting lucky with some hot female boxer who should be able to take it, but is hiding a shallow well.

So you got my opinion on big penises. And I’d love to hear yours. It will help me understand the theory behind why females love a big penis, because I’m more than certain that you females out there prefer a big penis. And keep in mind, a big penis, doesn’t mean average sized, so send me your sizes too. For the record, if I had to choose, I’d take a good 3-4 inches over a girthy 10 any day.

(Editor's note: Title is courtesy of PP).

Black Ops

So the best thing about me is that I cut the bullshit out. Whether it comes to friends, family, or relationships, I don’t ever play games. I give things at face value and can literally read a persons mind by what they are saying and how they are acting. You know what I love about these no frills marathon sex sessions? The fact that we cut the bullshit and both of us are here for one thing and one thing only. There is no need to analyze the situation and wonder whether he likes me or if I like him because who the hell cares. I’m getting off in the end.

It’s not a terrible thing that guys are ready to wine and dine me to get into my pants, but I’m seriously over that crap, and quite honestly, was never really into it. I’m way too independent for that shit, and there’s only one thing I need from a guy that I can't get on my own (I've broken two vibrators, it's cheaper to just find a guy).

Okay so, besides Pecs, I’ve met several dozen guys over the past few months (and for the record, contrary to popular belief, I keep one sexual partner at a time, so besides Pecs, I haven’t slept with any of them yet). I didn’t play any games to meet them and stuck with my obnoxious, no-filter, tomboy, sex-obsessed self. It has resulted in a pretty attractive pool of suitors whom I could call upon if I’m ever feeling restless and without a current suitor. I’m finding, however, that these guys have been programmed to offer a wine and dine prior to any fun in my bed. It’s like they want to pay me in advance for my sexual services.

You know, I could go into an angry tirade about how ALL sex is prostitution no matter how you slice it and how being a whore should be considered a respectable, and profitable, occupation, and that the stigma NEEDS to be dropped. But I won’t. Instead today, I want to talk about a social experiment I want to conduct.

Given my unique personality, I attract a certain type of guy. A sex positive, ready and willing, and able-bodied guy (who usually works out and has a body I can climb). Okay, so I want to switch things up. I want to see what would happen if I put myself out there as a relationship-hungry, marriage-searching, biological clock-ticking, 20-something semi-desperate female.

Here’s the plan. Starting tomorrow, guys I meet will hear a completely different story about who I am. I want to see how many guys will take me out on a date. If the guy is stupid enough to fall for my ploy, I’m going to see how many dates I get before he drops me for not giving it up. My theory is that the average number of dates I’ll be going on will be 2, and after the last date, I’ll hear from him only sporadically and finally I’ll cease to exist. Guys...no, people are an easy read.

I know it sounds cruel-hearted, and it is, and I don’t care. It’s an experiment, a covert operation. And after all, you all are used to playing games, right?

Marriage...and Other Stuff

It’s May. The inevitable season for weddings is upon us, and I’ve been swallowed whole like Jon Voight in Anaconda when he was gobbled up by that giant snake and then spit him out later in front of J-Lo covered in intestinal fluid and saliva. I actually really like that scene.

I can’t stand weddings. Not because I have to mingle with people I haven’t seen for several years who spend 5 of the 10 minutes you speak with them about how much weight you lost, who you’re seeing, and when you’re getting married. No, that’s not why I can’t stand them, well, I mean mostly.

My friends know better than to talk about wedding bullshit with me, but they’re all believers of the perfect union between two people spending the rest of their lives in holy matrimony with a pair of kids in tow.

The sacredness surrounding marriage, or “sanctity” if you will, is forced to say the least. I guess I should start from the beginning. Assumptions around ancient man indicate there was no such thing as marriage. In fact, men vied for several females, and females chose males based on resources and genetic viability. Evolutionary, women would cuckold their mate if a more suitable mate happened to swing by.

Fine. So why does marriage even exist. Who knows? I blame Plato (as I do with everything that has to do with sexual taboo). As I previously mentioned, marriage involves lifelong union and presumably offspring. A law binding two people together so there is never any parental uncertainty. Crap.

If you think marriage is the next step in this thing we call life, that’s up to you. But the truth is, as soon as we hit puberty, we were supposed to begin pro creating, but that’s frowned upon. In fact, we’ve made it a business to publicize this “freak show” of “underage” pregnancies (See: Teen Mom, etc).

I’m not sure where I was going with this. I started out this piece wanting to discuss why people got married. Instead, I’m talking about evolution and bad TV shows. I think what I want to say without going into too much science crap is that marriage is unnatural. I’ve expressed my distaste in monogamy, so I won’t go into a tirade against it, but we were built to perpetuate our genes for purposes of superiority. It just doesn’t make sense to settle with one person when at any given moment a more genetically viable mate could pass by. And I’m not condoning cheating mostly because I’m not condoning exclusivity.

That’s not to say I don’t support my friends who are getting married. Let the record show that I am serving as a bridesmaid for one of my very dear friends. I just think that if she wants to cheat on her husband, I won’t only cover for her; I’ll pay for the hotel room and Trojans.

(Note: I want to dedicate this post to Nikki who is getting married in two weeks and I really couldn't be more happy for her.)

Finish Her

Did you know that females are capable of two types of orgasms during a given sexual tryst? I polled my friends about this. Everyone seems to be aware of the notorious clitoral orgasm. You know the one I’m talking about. The one we first discovered when we were hiding in our bedrooms late at night, living at our parents house, wearing our little flower night gowns.

Now we’re grown up, and it’s still pretty much the only one we know about, and frankly, the only one our male counterparts are familiar with and (hopefully) work hard at getting us off with.

However there is in fact another orgasm , that we, as women, are capable of achieving: the powerful, elusive, and mysterious vaginal orgasm. I first learned about the VO when I was in college. A sex-crazed friend of mine sat me down one night and described the difference between a clitoral versus vaginal orgasm. This friend was a male and I couldn’t take him seriously. What did this “guy” know about orgasms? He finishes through an oversized clitoris known as a penis. I was a virgin till graduate school. I only knew one orgasm. I only studied one orgasm. I only had one type orgasm, but I was intrigued.

I looked into the theory of the “vaginal orgasm”, the so-called G-spot, like an internal release button that’s power is unknown until triggered. Our fathers of sex, Sigmund Freud and Charles Darwin explained the evolutionary and sexual theory behind the “vaginal orgasm”. The possibility of a stronger, destructive, stimulator, I was more than sold, I was pre-ordering.

So, I decided to go on an “archeological dig”. Not the worst phrase considering my means. After several, SEVERAL feeble attempts at triggering this impalpable orgasm, I was beginning to lose faith in my Freudian and Darwinian gods. I’ll admit, it took some time, but one day, while attempting once again, I felt something. A few twists and turns later, drenched in sweat and exhaustion I arrived at my destination.

I mean, I didn’t really know how it would feel, but the effect was mind blowing. If you can remember your first every clitoral orgasm, it’s something like that, but better, because you know what you’re actually doing and how it’s going to feel after.

I was more blown by the fact that it was true. There are two types of orgasms. Both are unique but equally pleasurable. So the next question I had was how could I harness the power of the orgasm to achieve it when I wanted to.

Easier said than done, orgasms aren’t alarm clocks. It took several weeks to find said orgasm again, but this time, I attempted to find the spot, and I did. Slowly but surely, I was able to manipulate the energy that was my internal orgasm.

Okay, enough about that. I decided that I would throw another wrench into the mix (again, not the worst phrase considering my means), and see if a guy could produce the same effect. What I found was pretty interesting. Depending on whom I was with (and how long he could last), I could manipulate my body so as to have him hit the right spot.

Okay, so, I had two orgasms under my belt. I had the elusive vaginal orgasm, and the ever-popular clitoral orgasm. What do I do with them? Well, have sex obviously. What I found was with each partner and each mind-blowing orgasm I was becoming increasingly insatiable. What was even more interesting was that not only could I produce my desired effect, I was beginning to achieve multiple orgasms in quick speed of light succession with a recharge rate of about 2 minutes (gasp!).

This isn’t a “vaginal orgasm” tutorial, mostly because we’re all wired differently and there really is no such thing as a G-spot. I will, however, say this much. A VO isn’t a nub at the top of our crotch (see clitoris). It’s not a spot. It’s a method. Furthermore, it’s not always the guys’ job to produce the VO. In fact, for all intents and purposes, it’s the female’s responsibility to determine a. whether she can achieve the vaginal orgasm, and b. “work it” so that she can get hers. Other than that, I can’t help you.

My belief is that any female is capable of the VO, but it’s an acquired and practiced phenomenon. So ladies, I dedicate this post to you. Take the time out of your busy, career-driven, sex-filled, gym-going schedules and “search within” yourself. I promise, it’s more than worth it.