I'll Call You Tomorrow - **Guest Blogger**

**Note from the editor:  So, after all my crazy rants and cynical assumptions (truths), I've decided I need someone to counter all my bullshit.  Enter, Ralph, a pseudonym, and a friend who will be chronicling her search for the perfect mate.  You can generally find her updates on Wednesdays and all comments are welcome.  Enjoy!**

About a month and a half ago, @controvershiL had asked me to be a guest blogger on her site.  As she claims to not believe in love (a point which I argue with her about on many occasion), she felt her readers would relate to me and my quest to find that quintessential long-term male companion (i.e. – a husband, a soul mate, whatever term floats your boat).

The funny thing about this is that a month ago, I wasn’t sure I could write about my trials and tribulations in the crazy anxiety-ridden world of dating because I was actually blissfully involved and infatuated with someone who appeared to be kind, honest, hot and humble.  Add to this the fact that he came from my religious background and was looking for a serious relationship and you can imagine my true sense of joy and quite frankly, relief.  Finally. Finally. Finally.  I had found him!

Days and weeks can pass in a flash when you’re a 29 year old Indian girl in the beginning stages of new love.  You can get involved with someone so profoundly in the span of just 7 weeks that you truly look past all potential pitfalls and keep going.  You keep your rose-colored glasses glued firmly on your face so that you can finally get to that proverbial finish line before it’s too late.  I constantly feel like I am running a race that everyone else in my life has completed.  They are all at the finish line, re-hydrating and carb-loading and I’m still panting away, with the finish line so far away I can’t even see it.  At this point, I’ve fainted and I’m laying on the track, my heart beating fast, my eyes closed.  Everything’s blurry and I’m dizzy.  Someone call an ambulance – I can’t breathe.

Honestly, as I sit here typing away– I still don’t know what happened with the above mentioned male.  Our conversations went from serious discussions of the future, to mystifying texts filled with false promises. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow : )”,  “Sorry today was crazy – call you Sunday : )”.  Ugh. The smiley face text – meant to disengage the reader, but really I just view it as aggravating passive aggressiveness.  Emoticons are cute in your teens.  In your late 20s/early 30s?  Man up and call a girl.

I’m not sharing this story with you all to bore you or gain sympathy points.  I’m sharing this because I’m sure its relatable and because I truly believe that if you really truly want love or babies or whatever it is...then it will come and these relationships that don’t work out are all land mines that you’ve been blessed enough to avoid.  I won’t go into detail about the aforementioned mate – but there were large flaws and compromises I was open to making just to be with him.  And I can’t help but wonder if, 5 years ago, I would even have considered him a viable option.  Are we so scared of being alone that we’ll take whatever we can get?  I’m not sure.  I’m slightly afraid to say, that in my case, up until this point – that answer may just be a resounding yes.  So – in the last few months of my 20s – I plan to change this way of thinking.  I plan to be even more thoughtful with who I decide is appropriate to date, and I plan to be less emotional.  I plan to date multiple people at the same time until one person shows me security over a time period of several months.   I will reopen my biodata online dating accounts that I so gleefully closed when meeting the former object of my affection.  It’s time to move on – no time to grieve over someone who can’t even be bothered to give you a reason for his ambivalence.  Gotta move on.  Gotta stop listening to sad Bollywood love songs.  If you want that big love in your life, there’s no time to grieve over the landmines that you’ve thankfully avoided.  Get to it.  It’s a job.

Oh, Zuckerberg

The Facebook IPO dropped, the zombie apocalypse arrived, my old boxing coach offered words of reconciliation (thus I’m back on the Golden Gloves train), and two white boys called me on the same night for a booty call.  Shit is officially hitting the fan.  What did Zuckerberg think would happen after he married an Asian girl?  Apparently, none of us are safe and the white boys are on the hunt.

I ended up meeting one of the guys for a drink later in the week.  I’ve slept with him before and he was good so I thought what the hell.  In the end, I didn’t end up sleeping with him merely because I wasn’t interested in bringing him home.  Not to mention, I generally get bored after the first time I sleep with him which got me thinking to some of the guys I’ve given a 2^nd chance to.

Over the sobriety gig, I called the other boy to see if he’d come over for a quickie and lucky for me, he was available this Saturday for some Saturday morning sex.  Afterwards, I kicked him out to load up on Starbucks for my next 2 hours at dance.  I ended up falling asleep while we were texting that night, and the next morning I wake up to a text asking me if I was mad and I flipped my shit.  I know I shouldn’t have, but really dude?

It seems that more and more dudes are getting emotionally attached after one-night (morning) stands.  Then I realized that we’re at that age where it’s not just females looking to settle down, but males too.  And as I asked around, most of my male friends tend to agree.

It seems that “settling” down has become a common theme in many of my (male) friend’s mission in life, and while I’m not mad, I do feel a little concern for both parties on the term “settling”.  Why should one EVER settle?

We go through life avoiding settling on colleges, jobs, cars, etc and yet, when it comes to someone we are thinking about spending the rest of our lives with, “settling down” has become a kind of hysteria spreading around in our generation. 

I mean, how many girls did Zuckerberg even date before he rashly (perhaps?) decided to get married?  And you know that kid would have gotten plenty of play.  Sure, the majority would have been gold digging hoes with nothing substantial to offer, but still, at least he had options. 

What’s going to happen later down the line, when he realizes that A.  Facebook is dunzo.  And B.  He should have checked out his options?  Maybe it’s the cynic in me, but I’m still very light hearted to anyone who jumps into something without giving it a thorough thinking.  I’ve had several conversations with married couples who “settled” and are now, I hate to say it, regretting their decisions.

So what’s the deal?  Are we just getting scared of being alone so we settle with the next person who gives us a little attention and compromise all of our expectations into an unhappy or unfulfilling relationship?  I’m seriously hoping that one of you can prove my theory wrong.   

Head Games - **Guest Blogger**

**while I'm not one to enjoy cunnilingus, I'm likely in the minority, please enjoy a piece submitted to @controvershiL from @PatakhaKuri** 

For the longest time, I was a 'giver' in bed.  I mastered the art of going down on a guy, giving blow jobs that would blow the minds of guys away (modest, I know).  But I was uncomfortable with the idea of a guy going down on me.  I’d want to please my partner so he’d know that I’d be even better in bed.  The thought of a guy “eating me” and then having to kiss him after was just gross. 

After speaking with some of my friends, I found that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.  They, too, agreed that it was a little “gross”.  On the other hand, however, guy friends have hardly ever said anything negative about going down on a girl.  In fact, most of the guys I’ve slept with have all wanted to go down on me, some even before I sucked them off. 

So then a few years ago, I was dating this guy.  He planned this sexy, racy night for us (see:  red satin sheets, wine, dirty play list, etc).  After being wined out drunk, my inhibitions lowered and I let him go down on me.  And for the first time, OH.  MY.  GOD.  I decided then that if you are sexually active, and haven’t had a guy go down on you, you are missing out.  I know that there are several girls out there who, like me, are uncomfortable with the idea of it, but the truth is, once your guy starts licking those lips, your brain, won’t even work. 

While it took me a while to get used to it, I fully embrace cunnilingus.  I always advise my girlfriends that we have to love ourselves, our bodies, and especially our vaginas.  If we can stay comfortable with ourselves, our male counterparts will too.  We simply need to get over our fears and plunge in.  And if you need additional convincing, the orgasms (yes plural) are phenomenal!

Jeal?

I’m not even going to lie when I say I’m one psycho bitch.  I can tear someone up just by pulling a silent shutdown (something I learned from my less psycho mother).  At 27, I got kicked out of a club for punching a girl at my best friend’s birthday.  At 28, I started anger management, and at 29, I have been known to socially murder anyone who does anything that rubs me the wrong way. 

The problem with me is that while it doesn’t take a lot to get me angry, I have a hard time getting jealous and haven’t really been known as the psycho jealous chick.  After writing papers upon papers about jealousy in graduate school and understanding the intrinsic value of it, I realized that while it may be justified, I haven’t been blessed with the “jealousy gene” which furthers my belief that I’m being evolutionarily weeded out.

Whether you are a female or a male, and you say that you don’t get jealous, you are either lying (which is usually the case) or you really lack the gene and weren’t meant to procreate, let alone be in a relationship.

So when a friend of mine asked me if I would be jealous of the future Mr. ControvershiL (I can’t even type that without laughing out loud) speaking with, flirting with, hanging out with other females, I was inclined to say “yes” for fear of being judged.  But I said no, and watched her judge me instead as a liar, which is fine. 

 The down and dirty is the whole idea of cuckoldry, right, so males don’t want their females to copulate with another male for fear of uncertainty of their kin, while women don’t want their males to copulate with another female for fear of resources being expended elsewhere.  Genetic superiority, yada yada yada. 

Back to being a psycho jealous, I think in the end, there is probably a healthy dose of jealousy one can maintain while still being able to maintain a strong relationship.  In fact, I am inclined to believe that a relationship can’t survive without jealousy.  I mean imagine being in a relationship where your counterpart could give a shit what you did (actually after typing that out, I realized that might actually be the perfect relationship for me), but seriously.

I’d like to pose this question out to my readers (who seem to enjoy responding on twitter, which is fine, do what you will, assholes).  Do you get jealous?  If not, are you lying to yourself or are you being genetically weeded out?  If so, how do you deal with it especially if you are in a relationship?  Do you get irrationally angry/agitated/etc?

Off topic, it’s been 3 months since I’ve gotten any and I’ve come to terms with it.  Because the next time I get it in, you better believe it will be good with something for me to write about.

Dedicated to all my jealous bitches (including the jealous dudes who act like bitches).

I'm Not Trying to Get Married

I’m not trying to get married.  Biologically, it’s not natural to be tied down to one person so I can’t even take marriage seriously.   Even as I’m invited to be a bridesmaid to random weddings overseas, I can barely fake my enthusiasm.  I won’t even apologize, since it’s bullshit.  Marriage is bullshit. 

I know that most of you reading this are now thinking that I’m bullshit, and you aren’t too far off.  You are probably thinking that I just haven’t found the right person, and again, you are probably right, but I’m too cynical to care.

This got me thinking about my married friends.  I wonder if they are happy, faking happy, or miserable.  I’m actually inclined to think the latter simply based on science and reason, and the emails upon emails I receive of both males and females unhappily married.  And I sure I’m only hearing one side of the story, but I can’t help but be biased after reading some of your letters.

And instead of being an asshole and just outright saying you should leave your significant others, I’m actually going to offer some general advice on how to attempt to make this work (if that is really what you want). 

If you read my work, and you know me, you know that I’ll tell you how it is.  And that is how it should work with any type of relationship.  Communication.  If you can’t communicate with someone, whether it’s a friend or someone more than a friend, then it’s clear you aren’t meant to be.  I hate to say it, but its true.  Yeah, you are going to say that it is easier said than done, and that’s true.  But if you can’t man up to communicate what the problem is, then you can’t complain about the issue.

And further more, if you can’t communicate pre-marriage, then what the hell are you even thinking?  Walking on eggshells your entire life is bullshit and that’s what I’m hearing in your letters.  It’s not going to get you anywhere and you will end up in more than resentment.

It gets me thinking about this whole arranged marriage fad.  Is it because of society or is there really something to it?  My parents were semi-arranged and they are almost 30 years strong.  No walking on eggshells, communication on point.   Comparing them to some of my married friends, I’d have to say that I’m actually more in favor of an arranged marriage over those who actually do it willingly. 

I commend my married friends who are “happily married” and subsequently have healthy sex lives and have kids and are STILL happy.  

End rant.

What are your thoughts? 

Dedicated to my married friends.  One pair in particular.  They know.  They’re assholes.   

Spank Me

I asked this guy out on a date once.  We went to this fancy noodle house, which was actually pretty sexy.  Afterwards, I invited him back to my place with no real intention of sleeping with him (with every intention of sleeping with him on the second date).  After some serious 2^nd base action, I kicked him out with a 2^nd date scheduled.  Post 2^nd date, I went back to his place, a cute Brooklyn railroad style apartment where I wasted no time stripping naked and jumping into bed with him.  The sex was pretty much the best I’ve ever had, but not without a “WTF” moment. 

What’s up with dudes and wanting to spank you?  I was going to say, “I don’t get it”, but then I realized I’d be a hypocrite, because I don’t mind being spanked.  The problem I had in this situation was that he didn’t even warn me.  It kind of came out of nowhere. (And thank goodness he only knew a pre-boxing controvershiL, because dude would have been left with a hard right on his high cheek bones)

I’m totally into S&M, but spanking someone does NOT put you in charge.  In fact, if it comes out of nowhere, then it just makes you like a pansy ass that is afraid to divulge his inner most desires. 

Back to S&M, I’m totally into domination.  I like being in charge.  I know what I want, I know what I like, and I’m not afraid to tell it how it is (as if that wasn’t obvious).  And doms like me are into guys who know how to take charge.  The problem is that they are far and few in between. 

I think it’s kind of cool to relate to this my life in general.  I’m a take-charge kind of person.  I do what I want, when I want, without any shame or worry about the consequence.  And perhaps that isn’t the way it should be, but confidence can take you everywhere.  And I don’t want to push this post into how confidence is what makes the world go around, but it really is, and frankly, whether you are a dom or a sub, all you need is confidence to make it work.

And while I like playing by my rules, I can totally accept a guy who will step up to the plate and try and take charge.  In fact, he doesn’t even need to warn me if he isn’t just going to be a pansy ass spanker.  I know that kind of sounds hypocritical, but it’s the truth.  Some dudes know how to “take it”.  While others just play like they can. 

So readers, I would like to pose the question to you.  Are you a dom or sub?  What are some of the things you like to do in the S&M world?  Do you prefer your better half taking charge in bed?  And the most important question of all, are you a spanker?

Dedicated to my one true love, who took care of my while I was sick this weekend, Scandal. 

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There's nothing wrong with you.

No Sex in the Champagne Room...or Any Room

Been pretty cranky lately.  Could be due to lack of sex.  Sure it was my own decision, but I’m feeling the effects of it and more so on my mood than anything else.  People ask me why I’m doing it and the only thing I can say is that it’s something I need to do.  Just need to be sober for a while.  And while the first month was atrocious with restless nights, this past month hasn’t been so bad with the exception of my blatant crankiness/bitchiness. 

It got me thinking about some of my friends who are attached.  Who are either in a committed relationship or flat out married.  Some of these very people have reached out to me divulging that they in fact are living a lie in the relationship.  They are putting on the front that they are in a great relationship and that life is all great, but in the shadows of the background, they are living one of the scariest predicaments one can have, a sexless relationship.

I hate to say that sex isn’t everything in a relationship, but I’m feeling a little bit more open-minded lately, so I’ll go with it for the purposes of this piece.  Sex isn’t everything.  I get it, but it is something.  The first time you meet someone, you are attracted to him or her.  There is something about them that attracts you to them, which is a physical reaction, which we are created to act upon.

So then when does the emotional connection become so strong that the lack of a physical reaction bears nothing on the foundation of the relationship?  I find it hard to believe that there is a fear instilled that if they broke it off that they wouldn’t be able to find someone.  Have relationships become that diluted?  That you have to put on a show to keep society happy?

What about my married friends who have kids and are no longer having sex?  Is it that their schedules are too packed to make time for each other?  Or has the physical attraction just died since the purpose of mating has been completed?  It’s kind of a sad thought and more prevalent that you might think.

Then I wonder if there are people on the other side of the spectrum because if there are, I haven’t met them.  People who are only in relationship filled with physical attraction and sex where there is no emotional connection, feelings, or the like.  While I fully believe that one can have emotional-less sex, I don’t see a relationship evolving from it.  In fact, I don’t think “relationship” can be defined as 100% physical or 100% emotional.

If someone asked me what I would do in this situation, the answer would be easy.  I’d leave.  Biologically, you need a healthy dose of emotional and physical attractiveness for any relationship to take.  And I don’t believe that physical attraction can just die (unless you count having kids, which I mention above, and will need to take another blog entry to discuss). 

So I want to pose the question out there to the blog world.   Do you think it is appropriate to stay in a sex-less (physical-less) relationship?  Would you do it?  Why or why not?  Do you think you can have a “relationship” that is based solely on sex?  Would you consider that a relationship?  What kind of advice would you give to those who are in these situations?

Undercover Hos

I struggle to make sense of people who can’t own up to their inner slut, like those girls who will sleep with anything and everything or those guys you know get so much fucking play because their hot as a mother fuck (like MBB from college, who coincidentally is now engaged!).  But they don’t own it.  It’s a secret, and you know damn well we talk about them behind their backs in hushed voices, while I’m silently shunning them from the “Getting Yours” brotherhood (see me for details and initiation package).

I knew this girl in high school who would sleep around with everyone.  She wouldn’t own it, but I don’t think she cared what people thought about her.  Either that or she didn’t know what people thought.   Looking back, I realize that I may have judged her.  But I’m basically living her life right now and fully respect her choices and the fun she must have had. 

Then I knew this girl in college who penetrated (best word EVER!) our friend circle and tried to sleep with everyone in it (including Christoph), only one of which bit, who later was more than heart broken.  I actually used to like her, even respected her for her boldness, up until she did that. 

Sure, I slept with Toby and Christoph, who were both at one point friends or cool or whatever college guys are with one another, but I never thought about the ramifications about it until recently.  Until I started pushing 30 and realizing that my insecurities from then would NOT fly in this day and age.

So, I’ve had sex with plenty of my friends.  In fact, many of the guys I’m friends with now are guys I’ve slept with in the past.  (It’s kind of like how I initiate you into my friend circle.)  In any event, I didn't think I'd see most of these guys after I banged them.  It was kind of like a hit it, leave it, over it kind of deal, but lucky for me, I got a friendship out of it (I mean, mostly because I’m awesome, but who knows).

Leaving college has kind of changed my mentality, because at this point in time, I have several friends that I’ve yet to sleep with and frankly don’t really want to.  I suspect the sex would be great, and my friendship wouldn't be ruined or anything, but I just prefer not to compare them to some meaningless sex I have outside of the circle and I’m just secure enough with myself to make and keep a friendship without the hit it quit it clause. 

Does that make sense?  What I’m trying to get at is that we’re at a point in our life where you can’t get away with the shit you used to.  Go ahead and sleep with the person you meet in the lounge at the Coffeeshop on Saturday, but don’t try and sleep with the friend you grew up with or try to sleep with a friend circle or anything of the like.  It’s bad practice, and frankly a clear sign of insecurities. 

Trying to find the one girl or guy who will fall for your bullshit just so you can get what you want out of the situation.  Get the fuck out of here.  No one appreciates that shit.  Get over yourself, your insecurities, your low self-esteem, and get a new hobby.  We’re almost 30 and everyone can pick up on your bullshit.

I spoke with several colleagues about this subject.  People are certainly judgmental of people who are out to get theirs (present company included).  Sleeping around is not exactly rewarded, but sleeping around in a circle of friends, and further not owning up to it, is just plain bullshit.   

Just own up to the fact you are trying to get yours and the dudes will come flocking.  Trying to be an undercover slut will just give you the reputation you aren’t trying to have.  Don’t be that person.  Look amongst yourselves.  I wouldn’t write about this if I didn’t see it.  Although, you probably don’t read this, so it will be lost on you. 

Dedicated to my two non @ buddies.  You know who you are (clichéd, I know, but whatever).    Also dedicated to Toby who was a “down low ho” in college, we all knew, and talked about it all the time ;). 

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You are NOT a loser. 

Single and Scared

Here’s the problem.  The weather is getting warmer, and girls are breaking up with their winter boyfriends, and single guys are running wild and free just aching to get into my bedroom.  The problem is that I have taken a vow of celibacy until further notice so I’m trying to avoid any temptation.  Not that I see any since no one seems to be capturing my interest lately.

So, let’s talk about relationships and how more often than not, like these cold weather hook-ups, they don’t last.  These days, divorce rates are around 50% and the more I talk to people in my age group, the higher the fear of commitment.  More recently, I’ve been talking to several people, both male and female, who are recently single, separated, or divorced.  And the fear of going back out there is highly prevalent.

Not to mention, my 30-something friends who are still single simply because they don’t want to end up single, separated, or divorced.  It’s sad but at the same time, it’s understandable.  The one thing I can’t stand is the stigma associated with having an ex.  Sure it’s kind of crazy and baggage-y when a partner brings up the ex-files, but is it really that big a deal.  So, s/he was in a relationship, and so it didn’t work.  What the hell does that have to do with you?  Not a goddamn thing.  And you have to keep telling yourself that anytime you wonder about his/her past life, because it has nothing to do with you. 

Those of you who have had relationships that have ended, whether you were dating or married, there is nothing wrong with putting yourself out there again.  It might take awhile, sure, but don’t judge every future relationship based on the one that didn’t work.  They are out there.  Don’t just shut the idea out.  Whether you want to believe or not, emotions are harder than you think to control. 

And what’s wrong with a guy or a girl who was in a long-term relationship and left because they realize it wasn’t going to work?  I must say I respect these brave souls the most.  Not only did they take the risk of exclusivity, but also they were mature enough and strong enough to get out of a shitty situation.  How can you not be attracted to something like that? 

With that being said, I’m feeling a lot better about keeping my own mind open about the possibility that I might have found someone who I can relate to.  I’m definitely having an internal struggle dealing with a new kind of emotion that I’m feeling on top of my daily bouts of anxiety and panic attacks.  I’m not scared of it. 

Riddled with grammar mistakes, rambling dialogues, and sporadic curses, this one is dedicated to you.  I’d say, “you know who you are”, but that sounds stupid and clichéd.  So instead, I’ll say, I know who you are. 

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To live with or without?

A ControverSHIL Confession

The last time I was in a relationship was with Christoph, seven years ago.  He was the average guy next door that many wouldn’t even look twice at.  I made that mistake when I first met him thinking that lunch outings would be harmless.  The more we went out, the bigger the knots in my stomach grew.  That’s when I knew I wasn’t just a sexpot vixen trying to have my next big orgasm; I actually had the ability to become emotionally connected with someone.  

The thought is mind blowing right?  I realize that emotional connections are normal for most, but not something I’m used to since I only ever play off the physical attraction I have with someone.  But I’m not devoid of emotions, and in fact, I think I’m actually insatiable.  And instead of being only halfway satisfied emotionally, I tread on being 100% satisfied physically to avoid the danger of someone coming up short and focus my emotions on other shit (See:  boxing, dancing, volunteering, mindless sex).

Since Christoph and I broke up, that weird stomach knot anxiety hasn’t hit me often.  Sometimes I’d think about Toby and it would slightly hit.  Or a tad with Rick two years ago, where I actually stalked him to drop off a Valentine’s Day card, on Valentine’s Day (Actual poem I wrote in the card:  “Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Let’s get a Drink, So I can get to Know You”, complete with phone number). 

But what happens if the emotional connections are inevitable?  I slept with this guy last spring that I thought I was getting emotionally connected to.  In the end, I suspect I was wrong, but he didn’t share the sentiment so we went our separate ways (and to clear my mind of the bullshit, I went on a full on fuck fest that summer, good times).

For me emotional attraction is dangerous because it’s like heroin.  Don’t do it, and no one gets hurt.  Because just like heroin, if you do it the after effects are sick.  I’d end up doing two a days with my therapist. 

I was never good at expressing myself emotionally.  I’m always upfront if I think you are attractive, being an asshole, if your tits are out, etc.  But I have a hard time telling a guy that he genuinely makes me laugh.  That I enjoy his company.  That I ultimately want to spend more time with him.  That I am willing to go straight for him.  That I don’t want to sleep with him right away.  That he gives me weird knots in my stomach. 

…that it’s been seven years since I’ve felt this way.

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Some things are better left to Pavlov. 

Porn Plug

One of my best friends went out with this douchebag who told her told her wanted to have an open relationship and then proceeded to ask her if he could meet her friends.  I feel like you can get away of that shit if you are hot (which still isn’t acceptable), but this dude couldn’t even get a cute from me. 

Open relationships are great.  I think that’s the way all couples should function.  It’s the safest way to commit (does that make sense).  But frankly, if you are going to have an open relationship with me; you better know that it won’t be with my friends (unless you have been deemed community property which is another post I won’t go into tonight).

I could launch into a tirade about how this douche is pretty low on the evolutionary ladder and how his dick is half the size of my thumb.  Instead, let’s talk about porn.  I’m not going to go into the history of porn (which if you are really interested in, HBO provides a great overview in their Real Sex series).  I think what most are wondering is whether it is appropriate or not.

The truth is that it is.  Single, engaged, or married, watching someone else have a sexual tryst is not just exciting; it’s kind of a societal taboo.  Again, I could launch into how this is bullshit, but we’re not talking about that.

I especially hate when females get angry because their significant other or even some random dude watches porn.  It’s a fucking hobby.  It’s like getting angry for watching some cheese TV show like Psych (which by the way is the best show ever).  I know some of it has to do with jealousy and insecurity, but most of it has to do with the societal taboo and acts associated with watching it. 

I know plenty of guys and girls who watch porn.  Some watch it to get off, most just for the mere allure of watching someone else get off.  Others to get ideas.  A small percentage watch for the art of it.  I watch for all.

Males who watch are not physically cheating on their mates, nor are they emotionally cheating on them.  It’s fiction and fun.  It’s natural sex (okay the stuff with the anal beads are a little unnatural, but still).  I want to open this up to the females who have an innate, unfounded hatred of porn.  What’s the big deal? 

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Stop smothering her, bro. 

Nooner with Nooner

The drought is officially over.  Nooner and I were able to have a real life nooner for a change (the fact that it was at 2pm the day after Valentine’s Day doesn’t really mean anything to me).  I mean I don’t have to tell you that the sex was amazing despite my premature ejaculation (what? It was a long 3 months).  This time I knocked his socks off (only he would get that joke).

It took awhile before he made the move (with an extra heavy episode of SVU playing in the background), but eventually he made a move, trying to convince me that since it was my place, I had to make the move, bro, please, I have enough to worry about.  I wore a cute Miu Miu bra and panty set, not that he noticed, but just goes to show you that lingerie does NOT go a long way. 

I like Nooner because we both have psycho schedules so meeting at noon isn’t out of the ordinary, and in fact preferred.  When physical chemistry is this good, however, I try to see if I can push the envelope, and during our post-coital chitchat, I offered up the idea of going on an actual date (which to me, includes dinner, drinks, and sex).  I find myself doing this whenever I meet someone I have a great physical connection with.  

That being said, I’m kind of surprised that I was even able to get it up for him.  Lately, it’s a session or two and I’m over you, but maybe it’s because I don’t see him that often, and he isn’t trying to be cutsie with me that lets it work for me.  It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot and left me with my legs quivering. 

Nooner is a good guy.  I keep pushing him to find himself a good girl simply because a good guy like him should be with a decent girl.  I also like Nooner because he’s not intimidated by me, and there are few dudes out there that are like that.  I’m sure he’s not perfect, but at this time, a dude like him is all I need.

In any event, if any of you ladies out there are looking for a good guy, I know one.  This one is dedicated to Nooner, who fully satisfied me, without his socks, for Valentine’s Day. 

My Latest Post on TwoMangoes.com

She's not too hot about his female friends.

The Other First - **Guest Blogger**

**a piece submitted to @controvershiL, enjoy**

It was 3 in the morning on a humid, summer night. I was sitting in a yellow cab across from this gorgeous, confident black woman with a glowing face, wearing a gold sequined dress revealing her long thin and playful legs, no purse, no past. She leaned toward me and threw her left leg across my lap. She was wearing matching flats. She spoke in a casual voice as if we were chatting it up in a café.

“You seem nervous. Have you been with another woman before?”

My first thought.

‘How the hell did I get here? I must be the luckiest bi-curious girl on earth, because I just landed the hottest girl in the bar.’

Earlier that night, I was hanging out with my surfing buddies when one of them, a dude who I was chasing, tried to branch out and hit on this girl at the bar. From out of nothing, I grew this confidence, and drew from my lips the most badass lines that made her abandon her drink and follow me home. Of course I don’t remember any of it.

Now back in the cab, the sobriety found it’s way back quickly, stripping me of all certainty of anything. Yeah, I’m nervous, but I couldn’t lose my chance of embracing her slip away by being my babbling self.

“Yeah I have, I just don’t believe in PDA.”

Back at my apartment, she retreated to the bathroom and came out naked asking for a towel. I handed her one, but not before squeezing her breasts first. They were much firmer than mine. She showered and I grew bored and tired. It was fucking 3 in the morning. Every few minutes, I took a piece of clothing off while reading a magazine and by the time I was in my panties, she finally emerged.

We lay naked for a while, talking, and I realized her stories contradicted the ones from before. I threw myself on top of her and we made out for a while. Her kisses were slow and in rhythm with mine, something every guy I had been with needed training to accomplish. I reached down to prepare my self-proclaimed signature finger-fucking moves, and she stopped me.

She took charge and rotated us until she was on top and her tongue went straight to my clit. Shaking, jittering, quivering in complete pleasurable agony, I felt the obligation to hold her free hand when I remembered, to let her know that I acknowledged her being responsible for my euphoric state, which she couldn’t possibly have shared. We weren’t fucking each other, together. When there’s oral involved, there’s sacrifice, and the unspoken promise that the eaten will soon eat. We kissed some more, and I knew it was time for me to give her the mind-blowing time I think I promised her at the bar. My trigger fingers reached down, and I was preparing to motion her to come here like a speed-laden metronome until she did.

“No penetration.” She corrected me by pushing my hand away. What? I was shocked by this revealed truth that all girls were different—that the move that gets me to the moon in seconds is shunned away by someone else.

So I went down and tried not to let her know that I had never seen a black pussy before. There was no pink plushy insides—just a monochromatic throbbing, oozy black pussy ready to release…I engorged myself in her world, starting slow, finding my footing until I clicked in and sought patterns within patterns as the metronome ticked faster. She breathed heavier and let out a moan. A fucking fake moan. Of course I recognized it. I’ve done it so many times with the guys I’ve dated. It was the primary reason I decided to start hitting on girls.

“That was…great.” Fucking liar. She threw her head back on the couch and in a moment’s time, she was out cold. I retreated to my bedroom, and the next thing I knew, I was awoken by a stir in the living room. I cracked the door open enough to see a pair of feet stumble out the door when it shut.

Still half asleep, I texted my friend, “dude, I brought a girl home last night. I told you I was bi. You owe me dinner.”

Late into the next morning, I woke up again. Did this really happen? Was I dreaming? I walked into the living room. A pair of gold-sequined flats, size 11, had been left behind. The girl, who arrived in almost nothing had left barefoot en route to Brooklyn.

The beginning.

Rubbing One Out - Lesson 1

I’m not like Samantha in that episode of Sex and the City where she is the Queen Bee of masturbating, but goddamn am I the Queen Bee of masturbating.   I’m actually surprised that I haven’t written about this topic and then this week someone asked me about jerking off and vibrators and I wanted to point them to my blog post and there was none (shocker!).  So instead of ranting and raving about the uselessness of virgins, I’m going to write about masturbation. 

I’m not above touching myself to get off.  And I hate when people call it “touching yourself”.  I’m not so much touching as I am rubbing.  Clit stimulation is easy, but you don’t want to rub one out in five minutes (I mean unless you got somewhere to be in which case, I completely understand).  Remember that there are two ways of getting off, clitorally and vaginally, so get your life together before you dive into attempting to get yourself off on either one.

Needless to say, you can’t just jump in if you aren’t in the mood, so make sure you go in there stress free and horny.  The easiest route to go is clitorally.  Right, so depending on how much time you have, there are a number of ways to do this.  Vibrators are the obvious choice, but since some of you aren’t as blessed as me, I’m going to offer some tips on how to do this.  First, figure out how much time you have.  If you have the afternoon, you are luckier than me, so set yourself up.  Have a glass of wine and don’t just go for the win. 

There is an area above the clitoris known as the clitoral hood.  If you place a finger there and offer varying degrees of pressure, which allows you to increase or decrease the amount of time you have.  Plus this keeps your pussy clean because I know damn well you didn’t clean your hands.  If you don’t have a lot of time and I suspect plenty of you are urbanites that don’t.  Just go straight for the gold.  Figure eights are your best bet with medium pressure.  You do it right; you’ll get off within five minutes.  

Hitting your g-spot is something I can’t offer any advice for you on.  This is simply because you have to find it yourself.  Fingering your self is a better method to find your g-spot than using a vibrator, but either way, you’ll need time to find it and it won’t just happen over night (nothing like a clitoral stimulation).  Speaking of vibrators….

So if you know me, I’m not pro vibrator.  I always used to say that there was no point in getting off if there isn’t anyone in your bed helping you.  But, then I broke up with my boyfriend and found that it’s not always possible to have a dude in your bedroom at all times (and trust me, kidnapping them has only worked so many times).  So I stepped into the world of sex toys for the first time at age 24, right in the heartland of all things show stopping, New York City.

I bought my first vibrator at a shitty sex shop on Saint Marks street with my friends Wayne and Toby.  Wayne wanted to get something for his then girlfriend, and I was just there for the ride.  On second thought however, I was in the middle of a drought and ended up buying the same vibrator Wayne bought.  Looking back, I was such a fucking amateur.  That was the shittiest vibrator ever.  Sure it was cheap, but it was a clit stimulator and they literally can only go so far. 

It broke within two weeks.  Thankfully, by then, I’d started a steady stream of sex worthy dudes in my life so the incentive to get a new one was pretty low.  I managed to find myself in the Lower East side one afternoon and decided to browse the famed sex toyshop, Babeland.  They offer a wide array of vibrators, from clit stimulators, to dildos, to life like dicks ripe for the riding. 

I first purchased a Lelo Lily for a friend of mine.  I thought she would appreciate it, because you could just put it on your clit, literally lie back, and do something else (read a book, watch TV).  It’s the lazy person’s vibrator, and highly recommended if all you want is a clit stimulator.  I purchased for myself a Lelo Ina, which I like because it’s a G-spot stimulator, but it also has a dual clit stimulator, which by god, is genius!  You can’t go wrong with Lelo.  They’re the Chanel of the vibrator world.  I also own a Hitachi.  I think every woman needs to own a Hitachi.  They are durable and classic.  And you can use it as a legitimate massager as well (just clean that shit before you do it). 

Hey, don’t take my advice.  Plenty of women get off in their own methods that work better than mine.  We’re all created a little different so my figure eights might not work for you (try figure nines, those shits are crazy!).  So, ladies, leave some of your own methods and favorite sex toys, would love to get some idea of what my readers are into.  Plus, I want to experiment with a few other methods, so I'll be sure to report back.

This one is dedicated to my sister.  Happy Birthday, baby!