Becca's SexBlog

SmartHotFun.Com

2011-09-06T21:04:00.000-04:00

Hey Folks!

So, I've decided that blogging is totally my jam. I love it enough where I'm going to try to make it something that also puts food on my table!

SmartHotFun.Com is in production and the initial launch is set for October 1st!

You can check out the countdown to Launch at SmartHotFun.Com!

Thanks and Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Dropping the F-Bomb: Insight on Constructively Incorporating Swearing in High School Classrooms

2011-02-13T01:08:00.002-05:00

Disclaimer: There will be swear words in this post. Read at your own discretion.

This blog, for those of you who are unfamiliar, is a blog dedicated to thinking critically about the craft of teaching human sexuality. Although I write this post as a student earning their M.Ed in Human Sexuality Education, I’ve been rocking sex education in American classrooms since 2003. So when the assignment of writing a ‘how to teach sex-ed’ blog post was given, my mind went in a million different directions.

As a sex educator, I have stood in front of a diverse array of American classrooms. I have taught comprehensive sexuality education to high school freshmen. I have taught adults how to become more fully orgasmic, love their bodies more than they thought possible, and how to pleasantly surprise their partners with a lil’ something extra in the bedroom (or on the kitchen counter). I have fielded questions from 12 year olds to 80+ year olds about masturbation, BDSM, safer sex, sex toys and body hair. I have taken high-risk youth and given them sex education and community by being open and honest about sexuality issues that affected them.

Needless to say, that list isn’t exhaustive.

At the end of my reflection on my experiences thus far, the only thing that I could say was constant across all these interventions was swearing.

I am a huge potty mouth. I am of the opinion that there are simply some emotions that cannot be expressed without letting a good four letter word tear across one’s lips. And although substitutes like ‘dang,’ ‘fudge,’ and ‘shoot’ can be used … it’s kinda like watching Arena Football* when NFL and/or NCAA ball isn’t in season. (Or for those of you what aren’t football fans, it’s like drinking de-caf when the pot of caffeinated coffee is empty.) It kinda gets the job done, but is not even half as satisfying.

I also reflected on how the bulk of my experience is in teaching high-school aged teens.

So, as the cliché goes I’m going to write what I know. I’m going to discuss how swearing – something normally forbidden within high school classrooms – can be utilized constructively within the context of a sexuality classroom.

First, I’m going to give you some context for how the use of swearing within my sexuality classrooms was done. Then, I’m going to show you why I have support for allowing swearing in the classroom. Finally, I’m going to pull it all together in a neat little package for your further consideration.

1. You can say, “Fuck Yeah,” but not “Fuck You”

When I told my students they could swear, it was within a context of a larger ground rule entitled, “Respect Yourself, Others, and our Space.” Essentially, my students were told that non-directive swearing, or “bad” language, was fine so long as it was used within the context of respect. Students were also allowed to express any particular words that triggered negative emotions so that other students would be aware and try not to use those particular words.

2. After-School Programming

This particular program was a once-a-week after school program that students volunteered to be a part of.

3. Group Rules vs Teaching Rules

Although I allowed students to swear in the program, I explained to them that it was not cool while they were teaching condom use in freshmen classes during school hours. Although I told them I was aware that freshmen also swear, I elucidated for them that even though we had rules set-up for swearing, not all classrooms were set-up similarly.

4. When I Swore

(And oh did I swear.) I swore judiciously. I either did it as a natural part of my speech patterns during more informal parts of our session, or did it when emphasis that only swearing can provide was needed. And I never, ever tried to use swear words or “bad” words that felt uncomfortable coming out of my mouth.

Other Considerations

· I was a school district employee, but not an employee of any particular school. I actually facilitated three different groups at three very different schools within one school district. So while I tried to respect most school policies and rules, I was only partially accountable to the school administrations.

· I was young-ish when I taught these classes. My students ranged in age from 14-19, and throughout the duration of my teaching, I was anywhere from 23-25.

· I grew up in the neighboring school district to the schools at which I was teaching. I never attended any of the schools at which I facilitated these after-school groups, but I had a pretty good cultural understanding.

Now you know the how. But … did it work? And how do I know it works?

Not surprisingly, there isn’t a whole lot on using swearing effectively in a classroom. But what I do have is access to Hedgepeth and Helmich’s (in my opinion) amazing text that outlines strategies for making a classroom an effective space for sexuality education.

Thanks to the internet and facebook, I also have access to my incredible, amazing, fantastic, and extremely honest former students. (Yes, I am so biased in their favor. Even though it’s been anywhere from 2-4 years since I’ve spoken to some of them, they continue to inspire me to this very moment.) When I decided to write this post, I asked those of them who had the time to shoot me an e-mail or a facebook message telling me about their lives AND how they felt about being allowed to swear. 18 out of around 90 responded.

So through the use of my (very informal and not scientific by any means) survey in conjunction with methodological considerations, I’m going to break down how swearing fits into the idea of an effective sexuality classroom. When I include how actual, real, living, breathing teens felt about being allowed to swear and hearing their facilitator swear, they will be directly quoted. I will also include three pieces of demographic information about them:

Gender (M or F)
Ethnicity (A = Asian, B = Black, L = Latin, W = White)
Year in Group (’07, ’08, or ’09)

I’m not including their names or the name of the group in order to protect their privacy.

Let’s get started.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

Hedgepeth and Helmich (H&H) discuss how one of the elements of an effective sexuality classroom is the need for programming to respect and empower students.

Right away, H&H discuss how creating respect and empowerment within programming hinges upon interfacing with the reality of students.

Let’s take a look at what some of my students had to say about whether or not allowing swearing reflected their realities:

“I think swearing is an essential part of how teenagers communicate. It is hard enough to be yourself in high school without being able to express yourself the way you want to.” (F, W, ’07)

“I feel like letting us swear … gave sex-ed [class] a sense of reality. ... In reality, most people, if not everyone curses.” (F, W, ’09)

“I think that swearing is just a part of teenage life.” (F, L, ’09)

“I know it makes me feel more real if I didn't have any vocabulary limited when I try to voice my opinion and experience out.” (#1 M, A, ’09)

“C'mon, these folks are in high school. Ya gotta understand that most teenagers incorporate cursing in their day-to-day 'language' …” (#1, F, A, ‘08&’09)

“but as for about swearing? i loved it, like to me swearing is nothing, its like talking regularly.” (#2, M, A, ’09)

It would appear that many of the students who responded to my query agree that allowing students to drop the occasional F-Bomb (that’s ‘fuck’ in case you were wondering) simply reflects the greater reality of how teens express themselves.

H&H also outline how the classroom that fosters “respect, confidentiality, openness, collaboration and mutual support” helps students to become comfortable enough to engage critically with the learning (pg 21).

Amongst many of my students, there was an idealization that swearing fostered a sense of openness for how they could express themselves:

“In regards to swearing in Sex-Ed, I think it helps with allowing everyone to feel comfortable. It's better that you allow people to say what they feel and not let them feel contained in a box, … just knowing that it's allowed won't make students feel like they have to act a certain way, especially if not swearing is way far from who they actually are....” (#2, F, A, ‘08&’09)

“I'm a potty mouth. It was nice being free to express myself during sessions without being judged or hushed.” (#1, F, A, ’08)

“…i felt more free with my expressions. like if i was fairly pissed off, or extremely happy can say what i felt in the words that fit right instead of having to chose words with lesser meaning in my mind.” (F, L, ’08 & ’09)

“Swearing essentially allows everyone to talk about their passions more freely and creates a classroom environment when [sic] students are more comfortable having discussions.” (F, W, ’07)

“Being able to swear in class is awesome. Its like you bring the YOU out of you. You dont have to keep everything in and replace it with something your not, and that is just being true to yourself and everybody. It kept me confident knowing that i could say whatever i want comfortably in front of my peers, even outside of class.. HAHA! Its soooo AWESOME.” (M, A, ’08 &’09)

Although those are just a few quotes, almost every student responded with some form of affirmation that being allowed to swear helped them to be comfortable with either expressing themselves, being in the classroom, or engaging with the learning.

Some also spoke to the importance of the fact that swearing was set up in the context of fostering support, rather than being used for malicious purpose.

“[Swearing] should be used to bluntly express, not to belittle someone.” (F, W, ’09)

“Swearing should be used to empower, not to tear down.” (F, W, ’07)

“…there's a line between sprinkling swear words into a sentence and addressing someone offensively. If swearing doesn't interfere with the learning environment, then there should be nothing against it.” (#1, F, A, ’08)

Creating a Democratic Learning Environment

Within the context of empowering students, H&H discuss how many contemporary classrooms mirror “benevolent dictatorships” more than they mirror the democratic structure in which American students are expected to become a part in the future. I agree with H&H in respect to their assertion that this means encouraging greater student agency over decision making and responsibility in the classroom.

Despite my agreement, I would actually take it a step farther and say that to truly demonstrate ideals of democracy, you have to allow and role-model them. Freedom of expression is our 1^st amendment. The first one. The one our ancestors wanted to make sure got on the books. And yet in classrooms across the country we shut down certain forms of expression completely, rather than role modeling responsible, harm-free use of truly powerful ways to express oneself.

I didn’t, however. As I said, I swore all throughout all three years of running these after-school programs. Here is how it affected some of my students:

“You swearing like we did helped to create a bond.” (M, B, ’09)

“I think when you (Becca) used swear words, it made people more comfortable with you because it let people know that you were here to teach us, not to discipline us like the image people have of most teachers. It also put us all on the same level. Instead of being afraid of you we respected you.” (F, W, ’08)

“When you did it, i felt really comfortable being around you, since i didnt have to watch myself every single time and it felt like you were really one of us. You weren't our boring, get in class, read and get done homework "teacher" you were our mentor and I really did consider you as my friend, because of that I was more than glad to go to class and always excited to learn all the new things you were about to discuss. … I've always had and still do have a huge respect for you.” (#2, F, A, ‘08)

“…but also made me feel that you were one of 'us ' more then someone higher that we had to almost impress.” (#3, F, A, ’08)

“When you swore, it created a more relaxed environment and I felt the teacher/student divide lessened.” (F, A, ’07)

“when you swore along with us it made me feel like we were all on the same level, you werent any greater or lesser than us (even though you did have power haha) it didnt feel like we were being forced to be under your conrto [sic]” (F, L, ’08 & ’09)

“I can look up to you as someone that I can talk to as an equal. … Not only that, when you talked about your day in SES, it was actually pretty amusing to hear a swear word here and there...having your period with the fucking cramps, It just made it more easier to understand how you're feeling and in all honesty, I can totally relate.”(#3, F, A, ’08)

As you can see, my use of swearing did a great deal to change the power differential. Although the students cite respecting me, and looking up to me, there was less of a constraint around feeling like they had to express themselves the way they would to a teacher. Which, going back to H&H’s previous point, also helps the classroom to be an open, comfortable space for exploration.

Let’s Bring This Home

As a potty mouth who had potty mouth students who all loved swearing … I am highly biased toward allowing it to occur.

But what about you and your sex ed classroom? Keeping the aforementioned discussion of effective sexuality education classrooms in mind, here are some questions I would ask myself before hopping on the F-Train.

To Swear or Not To Swear

1. What are your organizations’ rules around swearing?

a. Is the language ambiguous to the point where swearing could be considered appropriate if properly defended?

2. What are your students’ thoughts and feelings about swearing?

3. If swearing is prohibited or frowned upon by your higher-ups, do you think you could convince your bureaucracy of why it’s a good idea?

a. Despite my perceived benefits of allowing swearing to occur in a classroom, H&H do encourage having your administration on your side when setting up sex-ed. I’d have to agree. It’s better to keep your job and prohibit swearing than to allow swearing and risk your livelihood.

4. Is swearing conducive to encouraging comfort and learning?

a. Example: Reproductive biology is sex-ed. Is swearing necessary to help students learn this?

If You Can Let Swearing Go Down

1. Can you defend your reason for allowing students to swear?

2. How can you set up ground rules that make swearing constructive and not destructive?

3. How do you plan to enforce transgressions of any ground rules that occur?

4. If having a power differential is a part of your educational style, how can you ensure that the power differential stays intact, despite allowing a broader range of student expression?

When You Swear

1. What words are swear words that you use normally, if any?

2. If you’re going to swear, what are your motivations?

a. Are you swearing to ‘look cool’?

b. Are you swearing for emphasis?

c. Are you swearing as a part of your normal form of expression?

3. Based on who you are, how do you think teens will respond to you swearing?

4. How can you role model constructive, supportive use of swearing?

5. Are you okay with allowing teens to swear even if you choose not to use swear words?

If the answers to the question are not conducive to increasing learning and engagement based on Hedgepeth and Helmich or the learning philosophy you live by in your classroom, swearing may not be the best strategy for you and your sex ed classroom.

However, if you can manage to make it something constructive, I hope that you’ve seen the possibility for how it can positively affect a classroom space.

Fuck yeah!

Becca Brewer

*My sincerest of apologies to any Arena football players or fans.

On Vacation

2010-05-27T17:48:00.000-04:00

I've decided that I'd like to spend my time in San Francisco with my family, instead of blogging.

BeccasSexBlog will return on Monday, June 7th.

See ya when I get back!

Oh Disney...

2010-05-25T08:53:00.003-04:00

As you may have noticed, I did not post yesterday.

I am flying back to my homeland today and had a busy day yesterday.

I don't have anything too substantive, other than this excellent commentary on Disney Princes.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Becca Rants About Adults Ruining Everything

2010-05-20T18:26:00.002-04:00

Note: Link, fixed. My apologies.

Recently, the following video came to my attention.

As the title says, those little girls killed that dance. They rocked some moves that I can only dream of making look half as convincing. From what I saw, they loved doing it too.

So enjoy their joy!

End of post, right?

Wrong. Of course, there is controversy around this video.

I bet you all can guess the controversy before I even type it: Should those girls be doing those dance moves in those outfits?

This blog is a rant on why my answer is unequivocally, ‘Yes!”

As someone who spends her life swimming in the intellectual water of sexuality, here’s what I saw:

I saw little girls who are beginning to understand the power of being able to use their bodies to create art that makes people stand up and applaud. Because that applause was not for those outfits, it was for the level of skill the audience saw.

I saw little girls who possibly knew the word ‘sexy’ could be used to describe those outfits, but at that age probably understand only that ‘sexy’ means good.

I saw little girls who spent hours and hours learning how to pop it and lock it and pirouette and do a whole other host of dance moves that I could only dream of making look that good.

I saw little girls whose hopes and dreams may be someday to dance and were being trained in the craft of contemporary dance, in all its raw sexuality and power.

I saw little girls working together and sharing the spotlight.

I saw little girls having the time of their life.

I saw powerful little girls.

That’s what I saw. But there are a whole other host of people who maybe saw that, but it all took a back seat because they also saw sex.

And when sexuality and children come within range of one another, we’re living in a cultural epoch where, for most adults, shit just does not compute. Children are supposed to be ‘innocent’ and ‘asexual’ until puberty, right?

Wrong. Children are sexual from the moment their hands can touch their genitals (in utero, yo) to the moment they kick it (talking about death).

And even in saying that, the reality is while children may be sexual before they even pop out into this world, their experience of sexuality is not an adult experience.

Let me repeat that: CHILDHOOD SEXUALITY IS NOT AN ADULT EXPERIENCE.

This is where shit gets hard. Because of course, adults are terrified when they see things they think are sexual because most of us here in the good old U.S. have grown up in a world where sex is bad and shameful in most contexts. Plus, for adults, sex isn’t just sex. It has such incredible nuance, that when we see a 9 year old displaying sexuality, we automatically equate their action with our perceptions.

Let me give you a non-kid example of how this happens:

How many times have you seen someone, let’s say … eating a popsicle. Let’s say it’s one of those “big stick” popsicles. They liberate it from the wrapper. They examine it closely, and then plunge it into their waiting mouths. They plunge it deep, toward the back of their throats and you see their lips wrap around the popsicle at they bring it back out. Over and over and over.

What are you really thinking about right now?

Whether or not you’re thinking about how that person is totally blowing a popsicle, I can guarantee you, all that person is thinking about is how fucking delicious that big stick is. A BJ wasn’t anywhere in their consciousness.

It’s the same with kids. We see something, we say it’s sexual, but our perception is completely estranged from their actual experience. Those little girls were dancing, but all we see is pseudo-lingerie and some sexual movements.

So we ask, "Should they be doing those moves in those outfits?"

And in doing so, I am of the opinion that we negatively affect those girls.

I’ll say it again. We’re not protecting them from being sexualized by posing that question. All we really accomplish in asking it is shaming them.

Rather than congratulating them, telling them they did a great job, telling them that they are valuable and important and incredibly talented, we reinforce stigma.

We tell them they shouldn’t be wearing that (i.e. be ashamed of your body).
We tell them they shouldn’t be doing those moves (i.e. be ashamed of your sexuality).
We devalue all their hard work and effort in one fell swoop because we can’t see past the sexuality that I doubt they even thought about while learning that routine.

So, do I think that those little girls killed that dance routine, sexy moves and all? Hell yes.

I even think that their cutsie little outfits made me appreciate it more because I saw what their bodies had to go through to make that dance happen. Mad respect to those little ladies.

Do I think that someone should sit those little ladies down, and tell them that someday when they’re powerful adult women they can try to change all of dance culture so they can dance in whatever outfits they want to? Hell yes!

Do I condone adults continuously ruining everything for kids because we can’t separate ourselves from our own adult experiences of sexuality? Hell no.

Rant. Done.

Keep Thinking.

-Becca

Susan Faludi Figured Out Why American Dudes Don’t Feel Like Real Men

2010-05-17T10:37:00.001-04:00

Considering I’m in school, I’m sure you all are shocked at the lack of paper translations this semester. Well, due to a number of circumstances, I didn’t have a paper returned to me until a few days ago. But here we go.

Original Title: Seeking Masculinity

New Title: Susan Faludi Figured Out Why American Dudes Don’t Feel Like Real Men.

As you know, the dudebro (aka, the “real” man according to a bunch of academics), is a dude who only feels manly when he is in complete control over money, emotions, and society AND when dudebro is dominating women and not doing anything that would get him called ladylike. Susan Faludi wrote a book called “Stiffed” which looks at how that definition hella backfired on the dudebro in post WWII society, leading to a sense that no one actually knows what it means to be a real man.

BREAK IN PAPER TRANSLATION. I realize that I need to do some summary for y’all before I can continue with my paper translation. We’ll continue in a moment.

According to Faludi, when soldiers came back from WWII, they were given these tokenized jobs making lots of money with no real purpose. (Holler at Corporate America). Rather than learning a skill or a trade, their jobs were to watch other people do their jobs, and no one could tell you what they did. Empty jobs to make money, basically. As a result of this, dudes basically became ladies.

Wait what’d you just say?

During the years following WWII, ladies were taken out of the factories and put back into the home, and told that their sense of happiness lie in raising kids and spending all this money that their men were making. It was what was supposed to define ladies as ladies.

Guess what happened? It was meaningless. Buying things didn’t make ladies happy. Ladies weren’t happy about being shoved back into the home. So guess what happened next?

Feminism happened, friends. And from then until present, women have been working to get much more meaningful roles within society.

However, dudes never had feminism. So, when their wives said “F This, I’m out” all they had left were their paychecks. Whereas before, ladies were defined by how much green their dudes brought home, and dudes were defined by providing for a family. Now, dudes were simply defined by the size of their paycheck and their ability to buy things.

Sound familiar? Dudes are now defined exactly the way ladies used to be defined before feminism happened.

BACK TO PAPER TRANSLATION

Because of this whole fathers having meaningless, tokenized jobs, there was a lot of talk of fathers not really being present for the sons of post WWII America. Dads just weren’t around either literally because they were working so much, or figuratively because they realized that they didn’t have any wisdom to pass to their sons. For the dudebro whose dads weren’t around, they had no one to ask ‘what makes for a real man?’ These are the dudes who engaged full tilt in consumer culture or celebrity seeking, only to find that they still didn’t feel like real men and still didn’t know what it meant to be a real man, despite their stuff or their fame.

For the dudebro who had a father figure, it was all about utility. These dudes who worked in this shipyard in long beach had great ‘father-son’ relationships. The older shipyard workers would pass knowledge down the younger ones, and while in the shipyard, people felt like real men. However, the shipyard eventually closed, and when it did many of the younger workers transitioned to not knowing what it felt like to be a real man outside of the shipyard.

So, basically, looking to a father figure in post WWII to figure out how to be a real man … wasn’t’ really working.

So what about looking to each other?

Still didn’t really work, unfortunately. The first reason was institutionalized homophobia (like in the government during the Lavender Scare where they made laws to fire gay people). The second reason was the rising resentment over ladies being in the workplace. The third was trying to define masculinity as anything that wasn’t feminine. These three things together made it so that dudes couldn’t be intimate with other dudes for fear of being seen as gay or ladylike. Even in groups that were supposed to be about growth and support (like this group called the Promise Keepers), the group still only found friendship around buying Promise Keepers gear and spending hella money on Promise Keeper conferences.

Even dudes who were trying to break out and find support were trapped by the dudebro style of masculinity.

So, wtf? What’s a dude to do in a world where looking to their father figures or looking to each other always leads down a path to a definition of manliness that is totally empty and meaningless?

Faludi thinks that’s it’s gonna take letting the dudebro definition of masculinity go. Instead of defining one’s masculinity as opposite of femininity, it’s time to create a new definition. One where the definition of being a real man revolves around embracing some of those girly things like being intimate with same sex peers, and caring for more than just the self, and wanting more than just lots of money to spend on empty things.

END

For those of you who have time to sit through a 600+ page book, Stiffed was actually a really engaging read with much more nuance than I was able to provide in a translation of a 2 page paper.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Becca Answers D’Angelo’s Rhetorical Question

2010-05-13T17:12:00.000-04:00

A couple days ago, I was rollin’ through Philly in Lil’ Berry (that’s the name of my car for those of you who aren’t familiar), and D’Angelo’s song “Shit, Damn, Motherfucker” from his Brown Sugar album came on.

For those of you unfamiliar with the song’s premise, it’s pretty simple. The main character of the song (we’ll call him Dudebro for the rest of the post) finds his woman sleeping with another dude, pulls out a gun, kills them, and gets arrested.

For the full lyrics to the song, you can click here.

The song is basically a series of rhetorical questions. The rhetorical question that got me really thinking was:

“Why am I in handcuffs.”

There was a bit of disbelief in that question. And the disbelief, regardless of how heinous the crime, may actually be for a reason.

Mad props to Dr. Susan Kellogg-Spadt for doing an amazing lecture on the physiology of love during one of my classes. This rhetorical question could not have been answered in this way without her course.

Why is it that Dudebro can’t believe what he’s done?

Because his brain may have been firing off chemicals that make his decision making completely different than when he had not just found out his boo was sleeping with another dude.

It all breaks down to three brain chemicals: dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin.

To explain those really simply:

Dopamine (dope -ah-mean) = The chemical that makes you want to go out and seek pleasure and reward.
Norepinephrine (Nor-ep-en-eff-rin) = A stimulant which make you energetic, sleepless, exhilarated (sound like Cocaine much?).
Serotonin (sare-oh-tone-in) = The chemical that creates calm.

When someone is in a state of love rejection (like Dudebro in the song), dopamine and noreprinephrine are hella high, and serotonin is hella low.

This means that there is no sense of chill, the person is jacked up and looking for an easy way to solve the problem they've encountered. When the brain is all out of whack, it can cause rash decision making.

It’s why someone who really likes food but normally may be able to control their food portions will eat themselves into oblivion after getting dumped. It’s why sometime people will show up on doorsteps or stop at nothing to try to see their ex. Although there’s more to the story than just brain chemicals, they play a part in that impulsivity.

So, to answer D’Angelo’s rhetorical question, ‘Why am I in handcuffs?”

It’s all because dudebro:
a) Had a gun.
b) Probably had some socialization that taught him violence was a way to solve problems.
c) Had out of whack brain chemicals.

BIG IMPORTANT NOTE: Just because brain chemicals are out of whack, that isn’t ever an excuse to kill, stalk or otherwise do something nonconsensual to anyone else. Brain chemicals are NOT the whole story, they're only part of it.

I’m sure someday D’Angelo will thank me for answering a question he never needed answered.

My work here is done.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

The Chicken Man

2010-05-10T18:23:00.001-04:00

First, my apologies for the Radio silence on Thursday. Sometimes even I need a day to recover from life. Thursday was one of those days.

But, I am back in action today with something a little different. I've found myself thinking a great deal about acculturation. You know, the process where little kids learn about how their culture works. We do it everyday by telling kids what actions are good and bad; by rewarding them for good actions and punishing them for bad ones.

We also teach kids how to act through our own actions. One of these actions being storytelling. We tell our kids stories or read them stories. The topic of the stories often have morals that we're trying to portray. A common moral for these stories is: someday you are going to fall in love with one person and be with them forever. (And a lot of them are like 'when you're a lady, you're helpless but some faceless dude will come save you and THAT will be the person you're with for the rest of your life).

It makes me stop and wonder what life would be like if we had different stories for children. So I wrote one. I'm thinking it's more a late-childhood story, but I don't usually write for people who are younger than teens, so I have no idea if they'd get the moral. In any case, I thought I'd take a swing, and here it is.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

The Chicken Man

Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl named Parker who grew up in a small village next to a river. Parker lived with her mother, father, and 3 brothers. Parker and her family ran a small inn where weary travelers could go to rest their heads and fill their bellies. Parker liked working in the inn because she got to meet a whole bunch of interesting people.

One time, a man with a boat full of 700 chickens stayed in the inn. When Parker found out about his cargo, she said to him “I will call you the Chicken Man”. The Chicken Man was very handsome and also very nice. He smiled at Parker and said “Then that will be my name.” Parker grinned a wide grin and noticed that her mother was also grinning at the Chicken Man.

That night, Parker thought that she would bring an extra glass of water to the Chicken Man because he had been so nice to her. She knocked on the door to his room. No one answered, so she slowly peeked her head in to make sure he was all right. Instead of the Chicken Man, her father was sitting on the bed, reading a book. She was so surprised that she dropped the glass on the floor.

“Father,” Parker said, “Why are you staying in the Chicken Man’s room? And where is the Chicken Man?”

Parker’s father looked at her for a moment. Parker was almost 13 years old. She had started her monthly bleeds over a year ago and her breasts and hips were starting to fill out. She watched her father look at her until he said “Parker, it is time you know how love really works.”

“But father” said Parker “you’ve already told me of love. Was everything you told me a lie?”

“No, child” said Parker’s father “but I did not tell you the whole story because you weren’t of an age where you would understand. I think that you are old enough now. Would you like to learn?”

Parker nodded her head and sat with her father on the bed.

“If I am in the Chicken Man’s room right now,” Parker’s father asked “where do you think the Chicken Man is?”

Parker thought long and hard. She figured he wasn’t at his boat. It was too cold and all those chickens must be really loud. She figured he wasn’t in the dining area. She had just cleaned that up and it was empty. She figured he wasn’t in the washroom. She had seen one of her brothers go in there with a book. He’d be there for a while. She thought and thought and thought, and then it finally dawned on her.

“If you are here, the Chicken Man must be in your bedroom with Mother,” she said.

Her father smiled at Parker, and she felt proud of herself for being so bright. Then, Parker got confused.

“Wait a second,” Parker said “Why is Mother in your bedroom with the Chicken Man?”

“What do you already know about love?” asked Parker’s father.

Parker repeated what her father had told her many times, “Mother is the love of your life. You care for her more than anyone. Well, except for my brothers and me. The only person that you want to share the rest of your life with is her. You like seeing her and being around her very very very much. And she feels the same way about you.”

“That” said Parker’s father “is emotional love. But there is another kind of love called ‘physical love’.”

Parker’s brow rumpled in confusion. “What is the difference?” Parker asked.

Parker’s father smiled and asked, “When you look at Jared from three cottages down, how do you feel?”

Parker’s face turned red from her chin to the roots of her hair. Jared was tall, had dark hair, and could climb a tree higher than any other kid in the village. How could her father know that looking at Jared made her heart race and her stomach do loops? She had never talked to Jared in person, but she wondered if her father knew that she thought about Jared and touched herself.

Before she could say all this out loud, her father said, “What you feel when you look at Jared are the pangs of physical love.” He told Parker that ‘lust’ was another word for physical love. Lust was when you wanted to rub and touch and sometimes have sex with another person.

“Do you and Mother have lust for each other?” asked Parker.

“Very much, Parker,” said Parker’s father. “But sometimes we also have lust for other people.”

“I always thought that once someone fell in love that they didn’t feel lust for other people,” Parker said, confused.

“I think it would be easier that way, sometimes,” said Parker’s father “But, the idea of two people falling in love and then NEVER feeling lust for anyone else is a fairy tale. Even when you love someone as much as I love your mother, sometimes you still feel lust for other people.”

“But shouldn’t you just ignore those feelings? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you love someone?” asked Parker.

“Some people try to be in love that way,” said Parker’s father “For some, it works and they are happy. For others, they find lust to be too powerful and they rub or touch or have sex with another anyway. When their love finds out, they can be hurt or sad or they can fall out of love. Your mother and I decided that we would rather tell each other first. This way, if we are feeling hurt or sad, we can tell each other before we fall out of love.”

“But when you have lust and you rub or touch or have sex with someone that isn’t Mother, do you love Mother less?” asked Parker.

“No Parker,” said Parker’s father, “When I have lust for other people, it is usually only lust. After I rub or touch or have sex with other people, I am still very much in love with your Mother.”

Parker thought and thought and thought and then said, “So mother is feeling lust for the Chicken Man. And that is why she and the Chicken Man are in a room together. That is why you are in the Chicken Man’s room.”

“You are a very smart girl, Parker,” said Parker’s father. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Yes. Let’s say Jared and I fall in love. Does that mean I could still lust after and rub or touch or have sex with Adrian from the market?” Asked Parker.

Parker’s father laughed loudly and smiled deeply at Parker. “Yes. But you would have to have lots of talks with Jared first,” said Parker’s father.

“What kinds of talks?” asked Parker.

“That, my love, is for another night. It is past your bedtime,” said Parker’s father.

As Parker went to bed, she thought about her mother and the Chicken Man. She understood a little better why her mother had been grinning at him so widely. She bet that her mother was still grinning.

Becca’s Gonna Valprehend You (If You’re Lucky)

2010-05-03T00:01:00.003-04:00

val.pre.hend [vālp'rĭ-hěnd']
v. valprehended, valprehending, valprehends
1. To actively grab or seize with a vagina or rectum. When in reverse cowgirl, she valprehended his cock until he orgasmed and passed out.

Believe it or not, when I write these posts, I think very carefully about the language that I use and the way in which I say things.

Despite how much time I put into thinking about my language, I am not always perfect.

Sometimes, I’m not perfect on purpose because I feel that a less ‘pc’ phrase or statement is more powerful than one that isn’t.

Sometimes, I’m not perfect because I’m writing a blog post in less time than I should because I’ve procrastinated.

And then there are times when I’m not perfect because there is no language with which to describe certain things.

This is how the word ‘Valprehend’ came to be.

A reader sent me a message concerning how they had issues with my Yes, No, Maybe Chart. Not huge issues, but simply issues with the fact that in the section pertaining to penetrative positions, I defined all of them in terms of the penetrator. The critique was that this creates a framework where only the person penetrating gets credit for effort.

And while at first I was like, ‘I’m just trying to make things clear,’ I eventually put my ego in check and realized that my reader was totally right. However, upon examining words that exist, I could not find any that, for me, had the equivalent power of the word ‘penetrate.’

Being someone who has valprehended many a person in her day, I know how active, powerful and strong valprehending can be.

But I hadn’t found a word yet, so I turned to someone that I consider a good resource for sex language, Charlie Glickman. He also didn’t know of a word, so he suggested we make one up.

So, being as that lots of English is based in greek roots, I scoured the interwebs and found out that Val means strong and Prehend means to grasp or seize. Imagine my joy when I put those together to make a word that has strength, agency, and the same sizzle as penetrate: Valprehend.

I e-mailed my idea to Charlie, and he dug it. He breaks it down in a really great way, so you should check out his post on Valprehending too!

So here’s why I think actually using this word is important, and although there are many viewpoints that could back me up, I’m going to use the one I’ve heard most often from the dudes I’ve been chatting up lately.

A HUGE complaint that I get from lots of these dudes is that they have to do all the work during penetrative sex. They’re the ones thrusting and grinding and riding and whatnot, and their partners are just laying there receiving. While this is okay part of the time, these dudes that I’ve talked to often mention that it would be nice (and hot) if their partner would put in a little more effort.

Although there have been many folks who have valprehended in the past, many who are velprehending right now, and even more who will valprehend in the future, up until this word they were simply ‘receivers.’ Regardless of the work the valprehender was putting in, their actions were reduced to passivity because of the limitations of language. No matter how hard they worked, the receiving partner is never seen as active in language.

Until now.

The word Valprehend is a word that is meant to make people feel powerful (val does mean ‘strong’ after all). It’s specifically designed to bring up the idea of a person doing work, being active, and putting in effort.

And if we all begin to use a word with that meaning, it makes the concept real and makes the activity more likely to occur in reality.

So for all you ladies and gents who identify as penetrators, you should use the word to help your partners get on equal footing and maybe get those passive partners to step up their agency. And for all you receivers out there who have been grasping and grinding and putting in effort, you should use the word to give all your effort meaning.

Although Valprehend may not be a word you shout during sex (unless you’re me and love nerdy sex talk), using Valprehend in everyday conversation can make a world where there is a possibility that anyone can be the active partner.

So go out and have some consensual valprehensive sex. You deserve it!

Keep Thinking (and Valprehending)!

-Becca

Becca Copes with Being Dumped

2010-04-29T00:56:00.001-04:00

Although I usually like to spit straight knowledge at y’all, I thought that I would provide a different service today.

Today I’m going to show you how I’m coping with being recently dumped (for the first time ever).

But first, because I understand that just like my daily poop, not all dumps look the same, I will describe to you the situation.

Basically, I met Dude while he was in a polyamorous marriage where Wifey knew about and approved of Dude dating me. When I started dating Dude, he told me his marriage was on the rocks. Throughout the time I knew Dude, shit with Wifey was confusing and shaky, as relationships on the verge of divorce tend to be. Not to mention Dude and Wifey have kids, which makes things more complicated.

(And yes, I realize that while managing to avoid relationships most of my life, I picked the least complicated situation to try one out in.) <-- Sarcasm

So, although our relationship was no doubt fun and introduced me to many a new experience, Dude had some serious personal shit that he needed to take care of.

And so on Monday, Dude held my hand and in a very compassionate manner told me that he couldn’t see me anymore. He couldn’t do right by his family or by me by splitting his attention, and I’ll be damned if he didn’t make the right choice by choosing his family.

Bummer, right? Well, yeah, but I’m coping.

And I feel like because many of the ways in which people cope are seen as qualities that constitute weakness or frailty (in this culture, anyway), that people don’t share what goes down after that bombshell moment.

So, even though I know I’m probably not out of the woods yet, I felt like sharing my process might a) help me to continue on my stellar processual trajectory and b) perhaps help my 12 readers to process previous or future moments where they are the dumped.

Or maybe even just help people out there to know that they’re not alone in their emotions.

Coping Mechanism 1: Hella Crying

When he told me, after he told me, 24 hours after he told me, and still sporadically when it needs to happen. Crying, sobbing, bawling. All different kinds of crying to best suit the emotion.

Crying has probably been the most healing part of this process. I’m not sure why it feels so damn good, but all these good cries I’ve been having have helped tremendously in letting me get out the wordless emotions that I’m currently experiencing.

Coping Mechanism #2: Thinking About The Relationship

Have you ever had a chancre sore or a cut in your mouth? You know how you lick the wound and it stings the first time you do it … but as you do it more and more the stinging sensation dulls and then goes away, eventually?

This is like that, but with thoughts. At first, thinking about the experiences that had gone down brought me to mechanism number 1. Many times.

But as I thought about the same moments on loop, they began to dissociate with the hurt. That is to say, the more that I thought about my memories, the more they regained the emotion originally associated with their creation.

Which, generally means the re-associated themselves positively and no longer produced a crying response. This serves to both help me hold on to some of the really positive elements of the liaison, and to not ruin the whole experience simply because I currently feel shitty.

Coping Mechanism #3: Doing Math

Apparently, doing math is my new favorite thing!

But I looked at Day 1, and Day 1 was filled with hella crying pretty consistently.

Day 2, I didn’t wake up crying, but there was a good amount of it throughout the day.

Day 3, I maybe cried like 5 times.

The amount of crying and feeling bad about the situation is exponentially decreasing day by day.

This makes me even more driven to repeat step #2, as that seems to be helping in decreasing the instances of crying.

Coping Mechanism #4: Having a Good Friend on Call

This friend happened to be pretty familiar with the whole situation. Although I’m not entirely savvy with pouring my heart out, I felt like my homey’s very presence and support has been pretty clutch in quickstyle healing.

Coping Mechanism #5: Food Therapy

Ice cream, coffee, cheesesteaks, soda. I’m mandating an end to this by Friday, but a little food therapy has gone a long way in making me feel better about all this. I do love me some delicious comfort food.

Coping Mechanism #6: Substance

Not too much, but enough to help my brain shut-off for a couple hours at a time. Although thinking about what went down has helped me to desensitize, sometimes shutting down and giving my brain a rest was a good call.

Coping Mechanism #7: Complete Electronic Censoring

So, something that I’ve always said is that the best way to get over someone is to simply cut them out of your life for a while. I’ve never really understood the whole ‘let’s be friends’ concept because I think all it does is create emotional confusion. Don’t get me wrong, I think after a period of separation (and that period, of course, depends upon how long the relationship lasted), peeps can totally be friends.

I don’t think that’s possible until emotional separation has been completed. And I don’t think emotional separation is possible in a world where you’re still connected to that person.

With that being said, I deleted text messages, facebook contact, twitter feeds, and wherever else I was connected to Dude.

Although thinking about him is important, being subjected to his reality is something that I don’t need until I’ve completed my emotional separation. I’m not trying to erase the past, but I don’t need him to be a part of my present until I’m ready to make that a conscious choice.

Coping Mechanism #8: Seeing the Ending as a Possibility.

I don’t know why I see every ending as a new possibility, but it’s something that I have endless belief in. Doors have to close, eventually. And for whatever reason, I feel like all this time I now have is going to manifest in a level of productivity I’ve not yet seen out here in Philly.

Along this end, I’ve been keeping busy, which is always good. Keeping busy means that I am, at times, distracted. This keeps me from being holistically preoccupied with the situation. The more I spend time in good, busy time, the less time I’m able to spend wallowing.

Coping Mechanism #9: Self-Absorbed Blogging

Gotta admit, this shit is therapeutic. Although for some, escaping is perhaps the easiest way to cope, for me, making this as real as possible is helping me to work through it.

Sharing it with my 18 readers makes it real.

Coping Mechanism #10: Asking You To Forego the Pity

Because of all my coping mechanisms, I’m chill. I don’t need a Pity Party. You’re welcome to try to give me a hug, but that’s like the extent of my tolerance for pity. I don’t pity me in this situation because I actually respect Dude’s decision and think it’s for the best. I just wanna get rollin’ on the rest of my life, because life moves whether or not I’ve been dumped.

In Conclusion:

I don’t know how you all have coped with being dumped in the past, but I’m feeling pretty good about things … all things considered.

I would also like to say that although I love talking, educating and thinking about poop … I’m not a fan of the word ‘dumped.’ Sometimes, ending a relationship doesn’t need the connotation of excrement … because sometimes it really isn’t that bad.

Just Sayin’.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

How Ditching Pads and Tampons Can Save The World

2010-04-26T19:41:00.005-04:00

Those of you who are close to me know how much I love Menstrual Cups. When I began to hash this post out, I was simply going to rave about how amazing menstrual cups are.

And believe me, they are. They last for up to 10 years, can be worn for up to 12 hours, are hypoallergenic, have no TSS risks, don’t suck away the body’s natural fluids, are easy to carry, easy to transport, and are really cheap. Plus it’s my personal opinion that because they require manual removal by putting your fingers in your vag that they eventually make you less grossed out about periods, and help you to become more connected to what’s going on with your body.

But this post is not about all that stuff. This post is specifically going to speak to helping you all think more critically about how pads and tampons affect the environment.

DUDES. FELLAS. GUYS. PEOPLE WHO DON’T MENSTRUATE. This post is for you too. Even though I know that you don’t surf the crimson wave, I’m assuming that you may know one person who does. Maybe you have a wife or a girlfriend. Maybe you have a sister or a mom or an aunt or a daughter. Maybe you have a female friend. Maybe you know someone with a uterus. Even though you can’t use a menstrual cup, you can forward this post along or have a conversation with your uterus bearing acquaintance.

So let’s get on with it!

Pads and Tampons made by mainstream companies (Tampax, Kotex, OB, Playtex, Always, etc), are made in such a way that they do not biodegrade. This means that when you use these products, they will sit in a landfill far after you’ve stopped menstruating and even long after you’re no longer on this earth (either because of interplanetary travel or, you know, death).

And I’m not just talking the actual pads/tampons themselves. There are also the plastic tampon applicators, the plastic packaging that the pads/tampons come in, and any plastic packaging used to sell the products in multiples (assuming it’s a non-recyclable plastic).

All of it becomes waste that just sits in a landfill forever.

How much waste? Let’s do some math!

• Tampons are about 5 cubic inches in size.
• Since I’m supposed to change my tampon every 4-6 hours, I’ll probably use about 6 per day.
• If my cycle is 5 days, that’s 30 tampons.
• Every cycle, I will create about 150 in3 (or .01 ft3) of waste that will sit in a landfill forever.
• If I menstruate from the age of 11 to the age of 51 every 28 days; that means that I will have 521 cycles over the course of my menstruating life.
• Over the course of my lifetime, I will leave behind 78,150 in3 (45 ft3) of non-biodegradable waste.
• To reiterate that, I will leave behind a box that measures 3’ x 3’ x 5’ of used tampons (plus all of the plastic waste that came with my tampons) as a gift the next generation has to deal with. (And that box will be larger if I use pads.)

Now a 3’ x 3’ x 5’ box doesn’t seem like all that much space. Except, I hate to break this to you all, I am not the only menstruating woman in the world.

There are about 3 billion women in the world, actually. At some point in their lives, if not currently, most of these women will experience menstruation. Which means that even though I only fill a small box personally, if even a quarter of the women in the world use mainstream tampons … we’re working together to create some serious long-lasting waste.

To counterpoint this with Menstrual Cups; here’s some more math:
• Menstrual Cups are about 1.6 in3 (.0009 ft3) in size.
• Over the course of my lifetime, I might go through 5 menstrual cups.
• Which means, if the cup doesn’t biodegrade (some do), I will leave 8 in3 (.005 ft3) of waste behind.
• To reiterate, that is a box that is 2” x 2” x 2” of waste over the course of a lifetime. (Note that this is a tiny 2 inch cube, and the last example was a box measured in feet).
• The cardboard box (if it came in one) and the paper instructions, along with the fabric bags I carried my cup in were all recycled or will biodegrade.

In addition to landfill space, there’s also the manufacturing process to think about. Now, I’m not a tampon manufacturer and I surely don’t know the process involved, however I’m assuming that to manufacture tampons, one needs electricity, raw materials, chemicals, and water.

Which are things you also need in manufacturing menstrual cups.

But, because I’m all about math right now, let’s look at this in numbers again.

• If we go back to the 30 tampons per cycle and 521 cycles in a lifetime model, over the course of my lifetime, I will need 15,360 tampons.
• Let’s say I buy my tampons in 20 packs. This means I’ll need 782 packs of tampons over the course of my lifetime.

In thinking about my tampon use, I need to think about more than just the waste that results when I discard my tampons. I also need to think about all the resources required to make them AND the resources required to make the packaging my tampons come in. (Not to mention the shipping process that gets them into stores).

I need to think about this with menstrual cups too, but over the course of my lifetime, I may only need 5.

15,360 is way more than 5. 782 is way more than 5.

So even if it takes more resources to make 1 menstrual cup than it does to make 1 tampon, I’m using so many less menstrual cups that in the battle of both product and packaging manufacture, using tampons results in a much greater environmental strain.

Not to mention that tampons and pads are manufactured with chemicals (bleaching agents, adhesives, etc) that (while being bad for your body) also leach into the soil after you’ve thrown them away.

Now in terms of why they’re manufactured this way, I have no answers for you. But I can tell you that you’re not powerless in all this.

So what can you do?

Depends on your commitment. I’ll break it down for you:

Starting Small:
• Switch to tampons that don’t use applicators or that use cardboard applicators instead of plastic applicators, thereby getting rid of applicator waste.
• Use the smallest pads/tampons possible for your flow to cut down on the number of pads/tampons you’re using per cycle. (Don’t, however, leave them in/on longer as that could result in TSS or infection.)
• Switch from pads to tampons.
• Forward this post to other people you think should know about this.

Getting Serious
• Switch to 100% cotton pads/tampons (Natracare, 7th Generation, etc) because they will biodegrade AND because their packaging is often paper-based and recyclable.
• Write to the mainstream pad and tampon companies asking why they’re not making environmentally conscious products.
• Ask your local drug stores, health food stores, and other retailers to have products like 100% cotton pads and tampons, cups, and reusable pads in stock.

Go Big or Go Home
• Switch to a menstrual cup (Moon Cup, Diva Cup, The Keeper, Miacup, Lunette).
• Switch to a washable, reusable pad (Glad Rags, Lunapads, etc.)
• Start a petition to major corporations demanding they change the way their products are made.
• Start a petition asking major tampon/pad companies to start manufacturing a line of ‘Green’ products.
• Petition large retailers (like Target, Walgreens, Rite-Aid, etc) to carry products like cups, reusable pads and 100% cotton products for purchase.

In Conclusion

Go Green! And although I didn’t mention this specifically, this is one of those instances that by going green, you’re also going to save some green. Do I hear more math? Hell yeah!

• So, we’ve already discovered that I’m going to use 15,360 tampons over the course of my life.
• I randomly looked up tampons on Amazon and the cheapest deal I could find was $.15 per tampon.
• Which brings my lifetime grand total to: $2304 (pre tax and shipping).

• I’ve estimated 5 menstrual cups over a lifetime, but I’m going to up it to 10 for this example (people lose things, burn things, etc).
• On Amazon (although I’ve found them cheaper elsewhere) the cheapest cup price is $22.
• Which brings my lifetime grand total to: $220 (pre tax and shipping).

A total savings of: $2084

By switching to a cup, you’ll be saving your bank account AND the world.

Keep Thinking

-Becca

10 Sexuality Haikus

2010-04-22T14:02:00.001-04:00

As The Sun Rises
Tired, Sexy Awakenings
Morning Sex is King

Hitachi Magic
A Guaranteed Orgasm
Wand Your Clit Daily

Wrapped Around a Cock
Watching in a Sex Mirror
Damn that’s Fucking Hot

Peeing before Sex
Keeping UTIs Away
Let’s Pee After Too

Bend Over Boyfriend
Harness Strap-On Dildo Fun
He Loves Taking It

He has a Prostate
She’s Rocking Hella Skene’s Glands
G-Spot Fun for All

Hair Pulling, Spanking,
Hands Held Firmly Above Head
Let’s Do Light SM

Pull Boobs Out of Bras
Nipples, Nipples Ev’rywhere
Need to Find a Mouth

Mainstream Tampons Are
Non-Biodegradable
Try a Menstrual Cup

Don’t Hate on Foreskin
More Sensitive Penis Heads
Maybe you’re Jealous

I Love a Haiku!
Fun to Write and Fun to Read
Keep Thinking -Becca

The Black Box

2010-04-19T14:22:00.003-04:00

Throwback Erotica from my days as an undergrad! Enjoy!

-Becca

My hands are tied behind my back. I’m sitting in the most uncomfortable chair I’ve ever been in. I’m completely naked except for the stilettos on my feet and the bow in my hair. I couldn’t get out of this even if I wanted to. He enters the room with a box. I get wet thinking about what could possibly be in that box.

He smiles at me coyly, and sets the box down on the floor next to my feet. He looks at me and just smiles. This silence from him is unbearable, as he is usually already barking commands at me. He’s fucking gorgeous draped in black leather. His eyeliner is perfect, and his long raven hair is pulled taught back away from his face. He begins to touch my face softly, and I can smell that his nails are freshly painted. The smell of the enamel kisses my nostrils, and I close my eyes to take the smell in.

Upon seeing this, he harshly grabs my chin, forces me to look at him, and shakes his head ‘No’ at me. I don’t want to be punished too harshly this evening so I stop. His hands move from my face to caressing my belly and nipples, and I marvel at how gentle he’s being with me this time. It makes me even wetter, while at the same time I want him to be a little rougher. He sees this in my eyes, and he crouches down over his black box.

He takes my nipples into his mouth, while forcing my head back so I can’t watch. And then the harsh, painful sensation rushes into my nipples. I look down and he’s applied clamps on my now heavily throbbing nipples. The clamps are smaller than I’m used to, and the pain is so intense a tear escapes my right eye.

He sees this and smiles. He licks the tear off my face while he forces my legs apart. His mouth travels in between my tits, grazing the clamps, reasserting the pain on my nipples, and then his tongue is quickly buried in my wet cunt. He is only gentle with me at first, until he knows that I can handle what he has to throw at me. What started as soft licking becomes a hard pointed tongue stabbing at my clit. My back begins to arch in approval, but he plants his hands on my hips, constricting their movement. He then sucks and bites my clit, sending shocks of both pleasure and pain coursing through my body. It’s so fucking amazing I’m about to come, but he’s definitely not finished yet.

He brings his face away from my cunt just a few minutes before I’m about to come. I’m sweating and wanting nothing more for him to let me finish right there. He sees this in my face and once again, wordlessly, lets me know that it’s his show, and I’m going to come when he very well wants me to.

He turns his back to me, and leaves me there, panting, wet, sweating, and helpless. I can see him put it on. He pulls it up over his pants. I know what’s coming, and I only hope that he hurries the hell up. I want it and the thought of it makes me almost lose my shit right there, alone, in the chair.

He looks over his shoulder and sees the anxious look in my eyes. He walks behind the chair without turning around, and then there it is. Large, black, and silicone. Not like flesh colored black, but a deep ebony black, like piano keys. It’s sitting there, on my shoulder. I turn my head to lick it, but he pulls my hair and wrenches my mouth away from it. He moves the dildo in the crook of my neck, near my mouth, teasing me with it. I let out a little whimper, hoping he will hurry it up, because I want it in me. He forces my head back and, again, without a sound lets me know that he’ll do it when he’s good and ready.

He slowly rotates around the chair, and the huge dildo is right at the level of my mouth. He grabs my head and forces my mouth around it. I take the dildo in as far as I can, gagging every so often as he tries to force it farther down my fairly inexperienced throat. As I go down on his massive silicone member he fiddles with the clamps on my nipples. The pain of the rubber cock in my mouth as well as his tampering with nipple clamps makes my body throb.

My clit is burning, waiting for attention from him. But instead of just proceeding, he steps back from the scene. He slips a hand under the harness into his pants, and begins to rub his cock. He’s looking into my eyes, with a smirk on his face. I begin to rock my hips in an attempt to satiate my yearning clit, and he immediately rushes over and prohibits any movement on my part.

He straddles me and the huge black dildo is positioned in between our stomachs. His hand is in his pants still caressing his own cock, and his hand is close enough only to tease my clit. I’m starting to get impatient, but afraid to act, in fear that he will stop.

He moves so that his hand hits my clit as he caresses his own dick. The contact is small and indirect, but it fucking felt great. As I’m starting to enjoy this more and more, he gets off me and crouches down to untie my ankles.

He licks my dripping pussy once and then pulls my legs open and forward, positioning my pussy on the edge of the chair. He pulls one of my legs up and thrusts the large dildo into me. It’s wider than I’m used to and is uncomfortable at first. As he thrusts in and out in long, fast strokes it gets easier and feels better. He’s thrusting hard and fast and I can see the perspiration stand out on his forehead. As he thrusts, he roughly plays with my clit. After only thrusting for a few minutes, my body is hot and I know I’m going to come. I look at him to let him know, and I rock my hips in time with his thrusting. The dildo is still moving smoothly in and out of my pussy as I start to come. My eyes roll back into my head and as they’re half open, he rips the clamps off my nipples. The pain rushes into my nipples and it adds a whole new level to the intensity of my orgasm. I spew juices all over the cold floor and my body, covered in sweat, goes limp in the chair.

He unties my hands, and lays me down on the cold, wet floor. He collects all of his materials, puts them in his little black box, and turns to leave. Just before he leaves, he pulls the bow out of my hair. He looks at me, and I know he wants to take it with him. I nod at him approvingly, and he places the black ribbon in his black box.

“Thanks.”

Chla … what? Chlamydia!

2010-04-15T15:35:00.003-04:00

‘They’ say that you should always write what you know. And right now, something that I know a whole bunch about is the Sexually Transmitted Infection, Chlamydia.

So sit back, and enjoy the obligate intracellular bacterial pathogenic ride, kiddies.

First things first, Chlamydia is actually a genus.

Not a genius, a genus. That means that there are actually HELLA different species of Chlamydia. And most of those species actually affect animals (like hamsters, cats and livestock!).

Two species of Chlamydia affect people: Pneumoniae and Trachomatis.

The sexually transmitted one is Trachomatis (pronounced track-ohhh-mah-tis). That’s the one I’m talking about!

Second things second, Chlamydia Trachomatis affects five places on your body.

Cervixes, Urethras, Rectums, Throats and Eyes.

This means that any time affected fluids come into contact with one of those surfaces, Chlamydia can spread. (Which means you may want to think twice before you ejaculate or fejaculate into someone’s eye.)

Third things third, Chlamydia is the most common bacterial STI around.

There are an estimated 90 million cases of Chlamydia Trachomatis worldwide per year, and 2.2 million in the U.S. Now, that doesn’t mean 90 million people a year are being infected, as Chlamydia can reinfect you even after you've been treated for it. Which means that it COULD be 3 people getting infected 30 million times per year (it's not).

Fourth things fourth, Most people don’t know when they have Chlamydia.

It’s estimated that 75% of ladies and 50% of fellas who have Chlamydia have no clue that they have it.

Why?

The most common thing that happens to your body when you get Chlamydia … is absolutely nothing. But even though you’re not showing any symptoms, you can still totally spread Chlamydia to other people.

Fifth things fifth, let’s talk about what happens when Chlamydia gets into your body.

In the short term, if you are gonna rock symptoms, ladies will have things like inflamed cervixes or urethras, which can lead to irregular discharge (yellow, usually), irregular bleeding, painful peeing, pain and/or bleeding during sex.

For fellas, it’ll be an inflamed urethra, which can lead to irregular discharge and pain when you pee.

Anuses can also get inflamed, so if you’re receiving anal sex, make sure the person testing you knows.

Also, if you have a sore throat and can’t seem to pin down why it’s sore … it’s possible you’ve gotten Chlamydia back there if you’ve been giving head.

For ladies, leaving Chlamydia untreated can lead to health problems like PID (Pelvic Inflammatory Disease), Salpingitis (inflamed oviducts), and Endometriosis (where uterine tissue grows outside the uterus). These, in and of themselves, can be a painful ordeal. These can also cause scarring in your uterus and oviducts (fallopian tubes), which can lead to pregnancies in the fallopian tubes (ectopic pregnancies) or the problems even trying to have babies (infertility).

For fellas, long term effects are rare, but can lead to something called epidimo-orchitis. What? That means that your epididymis (a part of your testicle) can be painful, you can have a fever, and sometimes it can lead to infertility too.

Remember … these symptoms could also be signs of about a million other things. The only way to know what’s going on for sure is to talk to a health care practitioner!

Sixth things sixth, what in the hell does Obligate Intracellular Bacterial Pathogen Mean?

Well, I’m glad you asked. Obligate = C. needs a host (person) to survive. Intracellular = C. reproduces inside a cell. Bacterial = C. is a single celled organism. Pathogen = a disease spreading agent.

So wait what? Basically, in order for Chlamydia to spread, it HAS to get into the cells of a host.

So, if you ejaculate onto a table, the Chlamydia isn’t going to be able to reproduce, because it doesn’t have a live host to feed off of.

Also, because Chlamydia only attacks certain cells (the ones on the sites I listed earlier), you also can’t spread Chlamydia by say, fejaculating all over your partner’s back. Although it comes in contact with cells, they aren’t the right cells.

Seventh things seventh, there are certain ways to spread Chlamydia.

Penis-vagina sex, penis-anus sex, oral sex, mother-to-child, and by sharing sex toys.

And, like I mentioned, if sex fluids get into eyes or throats, that can spread Chlamydia to the eyes or throat.

In terms of mother to child, this isn’t an ‘in the womb’ kinda thing. Basically, babies get Chlamydia in their eyes while they’re being pushed through the birth canal.

This means that preventing infants from getting Chlamydia is as simple as making sure that Mama has been tested and treated for Chlamydia BEFORE she gives birth.

Eighth things eighth, Chlamydia is totally preventable.

Don’t want Chlamydia? There are lots of things you can do to not get it.
1. Dry hump, strip tease, have cyber sex, or basically do anything where you avoid coming into contact with sex fluids.
2. Not realistic for you? Then when you are doing things that involve sex fluids, make sure you use things like Condoms, Female Condoms, or Dental Dams to avoid as much contact with sex fluids as possible.
3. Get tested! If you have a partner, get them tested. If either of you have Chlamydia, get treated for it, and hold off on having sex until you’ve finished treatment completely.
4. Be fluid bonded. That means you both get tested (for all STIs, of course) and then you only have unprotected sex with each other. If you have other partners, make sure that you’re doing step 2 with them.

Ninth things ninth, when should testing happen?

1. Anytime you have symptoms, or anytime a partner tells you that they’re infected.
2. If you’re having sex with more than one person, get tested at least once per year.
3. If you’re pregnant.
4. If you are a lady under 25, you should be especially vigilant with testing because your cervix isn’t fully developed and more likely to pick up infection.

Tenth things tenth, Chlamydia is totally curable.

Luckily, Chlamydia is caused by a living thing. Living things can be killed. For you, that means that Chlamydia can be completely removed from your system through treatment.

If you get Chlamydia (and unless you’re allergic to these meds or pregnant) your doc will hit you up with a 7 day, twice a day dose of Doxycycline, or a 1 shot dose of slow-releasing Azythromcin.

Conclusion

So … what should you take away from this?

• The best way to deal with Chlamydia is not to get it at all. So rock some dry humping, testing, and/or condoms to keep yourself having to deal with it.
• Although you may not be showing symptoms, it’s possible you may still have Chlamydia, so make sure you get screened regularly!
• If you think you’ve got it, hit up a doctor or clinic.
• If you do have it, don’t have sex until your treatment is over AND make sure you’re following the instructions for treatment.
• Obligate Intracellular Bacterial Pathogen is a sweet phrase.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Sex? WTF is Sex?

2010-04-12T19:06:00.000-04:00

First, my apologies for this post being on the later side. After a long ass weekend of crazy hardcore studying so that I could rock a presentation on the physiology of Chlamydia AND pass a test on sexual physiology … I did not want to use the brain at all. But luckily, my brain is pretty resilient, and we’re back in business. So let’s get to it!

So, this is a sexblog, right? Right.

Being as that this is a sexblog, I’ve decided that I’ve missed a very important opportunity to take the time to give you all a solid definition for the word 'Sex.'

My apologies for those of you who have been reading this and have been like … wait, sex? WTF is sex?

So … wtf IS sex?

Aside from being the second track on Oomph!’s album ‘Sperm’, sex, in the way that I think most peeps think about it, has two main definitions.

One definition is talking about biological sex. I.e. when a baby pops out of a vag or gets pulled out of a uterus surgically, or whatever … the doc opens up the baby’s legs, looks at the tiny genitals and goes: “This baby is a ….” And then based on that, we either slap a football in its hand or tell it it’s going to be a great mother someday. This is not the kind of sex that I will be defining for you today (although based on my previous statement, perhaps I need to dedicate some blog time to it).

So what am I talking about then?

SEX. Sex. Sssssseeeexxxxx.

Say the word. Roll it around in your mouth and in your brain. What do you think of?

If you’re a dictionary, my guess is you think that word means sexual intercourse … which in dictionaryland is most commonly defined as a penis going into a vagina (i.e. coitus).

Some of you, even if you’re not dictionaries, may have thought that as well.

I’m guessing that many of you thought of something that was completely different. Maybe what you thought about didn’t have anything to do with a penis. Maybe it didn’t have to do with a vagina. Maybe it involved other parts of the body. Maybe it didn’t involve two people. Maybe it involved more than 2 people.

For those of you whose definitions of sex don’t line up with the dictionary, I’m here to assure you that you are 100% correct in your definition.

Because, the thing about sex is that there is no simple dictionary definition that can encompass what sex really is. Not to mention that the dictionary definition of sex implies that the only kind of sex you can have is heterosexual sex designed for making babies. Most of the sex that we have in this world is not designed for making babies, and I definitely know that non-hetero folks have sex too.

So the meaning of the word sex is totally up to you to define.

If walking through a field of daises holding hands with your partner is sex to you … then it is.

If putting your penis in a vagina is sex to you … then it is.

If having peanut butter licked off your toes while you sing the national anthem is sex to you … then it is.

If putting your vulva in someone’s mouth is sex to you … then it is.

If transferring certain bodily fluids is sex to you … then it is.

And if two of those things, none of those things, or all of those things are sex to you … then they are (or aren’t).

So if I had to scribe a dictionary definition of sex, what would it say?

Sex (seks) – noun – Whatever you damn well think it is.

Keep Thinking (about sex)

-Becca

PS. Despite the fact that I believe that you can define sex however you'd like, I do also still believe that when you're having sex, it needs to be consensual.

What do YOU wanna know?

2010-04-08T16:09:00.004-04:00

So, I'm not gonna lie, my previous blog post needs to be the feature for at least a week. So if you haven't read it already, please do.

Even though I'm trying to keep the focus on last week's piece, I realized today that I have more than 3 readers.

Which is awesome! Keep reading and forwarding posts to people you think could benefit from a little light (okay, sometimes heavy) reading.

But because I realize I have more than 3 readers, I also realize that there are some topics that you all may want to hear about. Don't get me wrong, I have lots that I can continue to pump out, but I also like to gear my content toward the people who are reading! Because, well, this blog really is for you (okay, it's for me too ... I think writing is pretty damn fun).

So, have a topic that you want to know about? Post a comment with your topic idea. Send an e-mail to smarthotfun at gmail.com, and let me know what you'd like to hear about!

I can't guarantee I'll ever write about all the topic ideas I recieve, but I promise I will keep a repository!

Also, I finally caved and got a twitter. Follow me at @SuperHotFun!!

Keep Thinking (about what you'd like me to write about)!

-Becca

Moving Past Rape Permissive Culture (aka: Yous a Douche Alex Knepper)

2010-04-05T00:00:00.004-04:00

Recently, the following controversy over the views of an editorial writer (Alex Knepper) for American University’s student newspaper was brought to my attention. You can click here for the original column.

I read both pieces and at first was simultaneously dumbstruck and not completely unsympathetic. But because I often feel I cannot fully grasp sexual assault and rape because I've never experienced either, I almost decided not to respond.

Because when I sat down to write I thought, “What could I possibly lend to this topic? I am one of the lucky ones.”

And then I thought very critically about that sentiment.

I consider myself lucky because I have never been sexually assaulted or raped. In considering myself lucky, that necessarily points to an idea that rape and sexual assault are so normal, so routine and such a common occurrence that if I haven’t experienced it, I am amongst a charmed few to escape something that is so pervasive it has become normalized.

Although I am one of folks who sees the sexualized world we live in through a slightly more nuanced lens than others, I am still a part of the culture which I so carefully critique. When I use the word lucky to describe the fact that I’ve never been raped or sexually assaulted, I am contributing to a cultural consciousness that is permissive of rape because I am essentially saying that rape is something that is destined to happen.

Because I believe in a world where that someday isn't true, and because I know that my silence is just as permissive as using the word ‘lucky,’ I realized that I perhaps can contribute to this conversation by, at the very least, critically looking at Alex Knepper's argument.

To begin, and perhaps controversially so, Alex Knepper’s opinion piece does not make me feel that he is pro-rape.

He is in my opinion, however, deeply entrenched in and a contributor to rape-permissive culture.

Although I feel that he expressed himself in possibly the douchiest way available* (not to mention I think his ideas about feminism are antiquated, his notions about the gendered nature of sexual passion are narrow, and he is misguided if he thinks that rape and hate violence against gays aren’t interconnected…), I don’t think that his sentiment is wrong.

What Alex Knepper was trying to say, if I’ve got the story straight, is that there is a level of personal responsibility that, as adults, we need to keep in mind when we’re engaging in any activity.

In his specific example, if you go to a party and get blasted, there is always a chance that you’re going to make a bad decision and bang someone you shouldn’t have banged. In which case, you shouldn’t go crying rape afterward just because you regret it. I totally agree.

(This is COMPLETELY different than if you go to a party, get blasted, and someone forces you to have sex. Then, of course, it is well within the purview of rape, and you should definitely report it, in my opinion.)

However, where Alex Knepper fails, and where he will continue to fail in his argument, is that he only seems to put personal responsibility on one party. He basically says that if you’re a lady, and you have hella drinks, and you go to someone’s room, you’re giving them the hint that you want to have sex. If they end up banging you and you regret it, sucks for you, because the responsibility is all on you.

But as the cliché statement says … it takes two to tango … so where is male responsibility? He says that as adults, there are certain responsibilities that we all need to keep in mind. So where was the part where he reminds guys that there may be all these ladies drinking it up and when they’ve got 5 drinks in them, no matter how much it may seem like they want to bang you, there is a good ass chance that they don’t. That it’s the alcohol talking and not them. So if a lady goes back to your room, maybe instead of trying to bang her right there and then, as an adult, it’s your responsibility to be like, “I’m cool, let’s bang when you’re sober.**”

?

Where was it?

It wasn’t there. Why? Because Alex Knepper, younger than me though he may be, has grown up in the same rape permissive culture I have. He has grown up in a culture where we tell women and girls, “Don’t go out alone at night, don’t wear certain clothes, don’t get too drunk at parties, and say ‘No’ when you don’t want sex. Rapes are probably going to happen, but you can maybe avoid them if you follow these rules.”

Although I personally chafe when I hear some of those messages because they feel a little bit like victim blaming, they are nonetheless, not bad messages. Although I might teach them a little differently (the word “don’t” is not often an inspiring teaching tool), these messages teach the responsibility piece that Alex Knepper is talking about.

The issue is that this is an unbalanced message. We don’t teach personal responsibility to would-be perpetrators.

We don’t teach boys, “Don’t drink too much, don’t sleep with drunk girls, don’t assume that because she hasn’t said no that she means yes, and just because you can see her cooch hanging out the bottom of her skirt, doesn’t mean she wants you to put your dick in it. Keep these things in mind, and rape might not happen at all.”

Don’t get me wrong, I teach those things … but there are many parents, teachers, and other educators, who don’t. It’s just not the water we swim in when we live in culture that assumes rape will happen. I assume that growing up, Alex Knepper was never taught these messages, which is why he can wholeheartedly believe that it is only a lady’s responsibility to prevent rape in this situation.

Teaching a balanced message can take care of one of Alex Knepper’s concerns over the lives that are being ruined by false rape accusations.

If we teach dudes not sleep with drunk chicks (as well as the prevention messaging we can send to ladies), a whole hell of a lot of those false rape accusations are never going to happen. You don’t want your life ruined? Take personal responsibility and know that a false rape accusation could happen if you fuck a drunk person.

Knepper also seems to be really concerned that men can’t know what women don’t tell them … but he also paints a picture of asking for permission in a way that makes it so that I wouldn’t want to ask for permission either. He’s really concerned about the lack of knowledge, and yet admonishes getting permission. Despite communicating this in his signature douche-tooley way, he brings up a really good point about how this culture views getting permission for sex.

We live in a culture where asking for permission is viewed like this:

“I would really enjoy having sexual intercourse with you. Does that sound to you like a good course of action?”

Although it could work, it isn't very sexy. I would be like "Hell no. I'm done."

But what if we lived in a culture where asking permission is viewed like this:

“Mmmmm. I want you to feel my cock deep inside you. You want that? Huh? You want it?”

Or this:

“I’m going to slide myself over you excruciatingly slowly at first because I want hear you to beg for more. Ready to beg?”

Or even:

“When you put yourself inside me I feel so much closer to you. It’s like my whole world opens up. Will you do that for me?”

I don’t know about you, but I’m both ready to ask for permission and be asked my permission.

Going back to the issues raised by Alex Knepper, if he could widen his idealization of consent, he could solve the problem that he’s so concerned with. Dudes can’t know what a lady is thinking … unless dudebro takes the 2 seconds to ask. And asking can totally happen in a sexy-ass way.

Perhaps by teaching that consent can possibly be one of the sexiest things there is (and that verbal cues need not be the only way to establish consent), we can begin to change a culture that sees rape as inevitable. If we can teach that there are ways to ask for permission that don’t ruin that raging clitoral hard-on, maybe people would ask more often.

In Conclusion:

Dear Alex Knepper,

I don’t think you and I will ever be friends, but I’m glad that you’ve brought up male concerns around rape and sexual assault. People educating (myself included at times) are just as entrenched in rape-permissive culture as you are, and our messaging often excludes being critical of whether or not we’re perpetuating the idea that rape is inevitable.

Because you’re such a huge tool, I will commit myself to continue to encourage personal responsibility on both sides of the issue, and will continue to encourage the eradication of rape permissive attitudes. Because, honestly, I don’t want more people spouting the nonsense that you’re spouting.

Also, although you may feel that rape is rape is rape, Date Rape is important terminology in a culture where most people think that rape happens because of a stranger in a dark alley. The word date rape helps us to remember that the majority of the time, rape is actually perpetrated by someone the victim knows in a place that is familiar to the victim. Just because you don’t understand things, doesn’t mean they’re bad, guy!

I also hope that you, as a self-proclaimed gay man, begin to understand that when we say that the responsibility for violence falls solely on the victim, we are in essence allowing the violence to persist. We, as a culture need to recognize that when we put responsibility solely on the victim, we are giving perpetrators permission to say "that victim shouldn't have been there, it's not my fault." Just as I hope that one day women can walk alone at night without fear of sexual violence, I also hope that you will one day be able to walk down a rural street holding hands with another man without fear of bodily violence.

Even if you are a douche.

Keep Thinking

-Becca

PS. I am a feminist who understands biology, history, psychology AND sexuality (probably way more than you do, sucka).

* This is not about him being douche, BUT since Alex Knepper uses a very gendered critique where men are perpetrators and women are victims, I am going to be using that language throughout this post. However, I do want to put it out there that anyone of any gender can either perpetrate or become a victim of sexual assault or rape.

**I also understand the whole “but what about the fact that drunk people do stupid shit?” thing. I’m working within the framework that Alex Knepper set up, which is apparently that if you’re binge drinking, you can make solid decisions. NOT TRUE, but that’s the world that Alex Knepper has painted.

You’re a Douche-Bag, Douche-Bag

2010-04-01T00:05:00.006-04:00

We live in a culture where we use sexuality related terms in a negative way all the time. You don’t like someone? They’re a dick, an asshole or a cunt. When something doesn’t go my way, I personally say ‘balls.’

The list for the ways that we use sex language to mean negative things could go on and on and on forever. I could write a whole blog post about how using sexual language that way perpetuates a sex negative culture. But instead, I want to talk about the one word that, I personally, am totally okay with meaning something negative.

And that is the word “douche.”

Let me tell you why!

Let’s start by talking about what a douche is for those of you who may not know. Aside from being that coworker who always steals your lunch out of the communal fridge, a douche (or douche-bag) is a bottle or bag full of liquid, attached to a nozzle. Upon insertion of that nozzle into the vagina, you squeeze the bottle/bag and the liquid goes into the vagina.

What’s the purpose of this liquid? To ‘clean’ the vagina.

Now, what any sex educator (or high school student in the Daly City/Pacifica, CA area) knows is that the vagina is self-cleansing. That means that through a series of amazing processes to maintain a balanced equilibrium, the vagina keeps itself clean.

This means that when you’re taking your weekly shower, there is no need to clean inside of your vagina. (Washing your vulva, however, is totally legit.)

In fact, if you douche, you’re washing away all those lovely natural fluids that help to keep your vagina in balance. This can actually increase your risk for things like yeast infections.

So … if douches aren’t actually good for your vagina? Why do douche-bags even exist?

Aside from annoying you by cutting you off on the freeway, douches exist because they make money. I don’t know if you follow advertising, but there are lots of ad-campaigns (whether it be for douches, feminine washes, or those pads that come with wipes) that are designed to make women feel insecure about the way their vaginas smell.

Summer’s Eve (being the Douche Kings … and I say Kings because it’s a male owned company), does this by saying things like “During the busy week you need to take time for yourself. Our products let you do just that. So no matter what your day brings, you can face it comfortably and put your best self forward.”

Because apparently if her vagina doesn’t smell like “Sweet Romance” or “Tropical Rain” there is no way a lady can be confident enough to get through her day.

That, for those of you who don’t pick it up well, was sarcasm.

Vaginas aren’t supposed to smell like an “Evening Breeze” or an “Island Splash.” (I’m not even making this shit up.)

Vaginas, my friends, are supposed to smell like “Vagina.”

And I don’t know about you, but I happen to like “Vagina.” It’s a smell that I think is sexy and timeless.

Douche-Bags, just like the woman talking hella loudly on her cell phone about how her 43 year old mother is banging a 17 year-old in a Planned Parenthood waiting room while you’re trying to watch Spiderman, however, are not.

At the most, the scents inside of douches and/or the very fact that they’re washing away your vagina’s natural elements, can contribute to infection. Not to mention they contribute to a system of advertising that makes women feel bad about something they shouldn’t feel bad about.

At the least, they’re wholly unnecessary.

This is why I support Douche as an insult. Because Douches, just like closeted politicians who vote against gay rights and then get caught blowing someone of the same gender in a public bathroom, don’t make any sense.

In closing … douching is a bad call, but calling people douche-bags can be quite fun.

Keep Thinking

-Becca

There Are HELLA Myths About G-Spots and P-Spots

2010-03-29T09:49:00.012-04:00

Myth: The ‘G’ in G-Spot stands for “Good”

Fact: The "G" in G-Spot Stands for Grafenburg.

Although, for some, it may feel quite good when stimulated, the “G” actually stands for Grafenburg. As in Dr. Grafenburg; the dude who “discovered” the G-Spot.

Myth: Dudes don’t have G-Spots.

Fact: Hell yeah dudes have G-Spots!

It’s called the Prostate (although you may have heard it called the Male G-Spot, P-Spot, or A-Spot). From here on out, so as to not confuse the two, I will refer to a lady’s G-Spot as a G-Spot, and a fella’s G-Spot as a P-Spot.

Myth: Once you find your G-Spot or P-Spot, you are going to have the craziest orgasms of your life.

Fact: The G/P-Spot isn't for everyone.

So, SOME people will start having crazy, intense orgasms once they find their G/P-Spots. For others, G/P-Spot stimulation may not actually be all that exciting. For some, it can even be downright painful. Just like everything in sex, what works for some doesn’t work for everyone.

And lemme tell you, you’re no less of a person if this particular part of your body doesn’t do it for you. I’m sure that there are plenty of amazing spots all over your body that bring you pleasure. So don’t worry if you’re not a fan of the G/P-Spot.

Myth: Someone was playing with my G-Spot, and I orgasmed so hard, I peed all over my bed.

Fact: Fejac and Pee are NOT the same thing.

Although I know that after you had an orgasm you looked down and there was probably one hell of a wet-spot … if your G-Spot was being played with, chances are you just ejaculated. Female ejaculate (or Fejac as the ladies of Female Sexuality liked to call it), has been chemically tested and is actually chemically similar to the fluid that comes out of the prostate.

Also, the volume of Fejac can range from 2 tsps up to 1 cup! Which means you may experience a wet spot … or you may experience a small lake of fejac on your bed. Either way, enjoy it (and maybe have some towels on hand)!

Did you just read this and go, “Me! Me! I wanna do it!”

In order to reach your Fejaculatory Potential (that phrase is straight copywrited, fools), try having a clitoral orgasm (or two) without anything in the vagina. Then, bring yourself to orgasm with G-Spot stimulation included. The more turned on you get, the more likely the G-Spot will expel fluid. If you’re not a lady who can have more than one orgasm per session, bring yourself to the brink of orgasm a couple times and then go for the G-Spot stimulation.

Remember, not all people can Fejac, so if you don’t reach your Fejaculatory Potential, no worries. At least the journey will be fun.

Myth: The G/P-Spot is in the same place for everyone.

Fact: There is a general location, but the location of G/P-Spots vary.

Think of G/P-Spots like they’re noses. Even though the nose will generally be found below eyes and above mouths, where they are in that space can vary.

It’s the same basic principle for the G/P-Spot. It will always be on the anterior wall of the vagina or rectum. Anterior means the top wall, or the wall closest to someone’s bellybutton. But some people’s G/P-Spots are really close to the openings of their bodies, and some people’s G/P-Spots are farther back.

That being said, don’t expect someone else to just know where your G/P-Spot is. If they’re searching around for it help them out by communicating that they’re on the right track (for example: “You have located my G/P-Spot. Excellent work.” OR “OOOOOHHHH GOOODDDD YESS. THERE. THERE. THERE.”)

Myth: Once you find your G/P-Spot, it will always feel good when you stimulate it.

Fact: Your G/P-Spot sensitivity can change.

For some this true. G/P-Spot stimulation feels good anytime they are in a consensual sexual experience. However, sometimes getting pleasure from G/P-Spot stimulation happens, and sometimes it doesn’t. It can depend on things like how turned on you are, who your partner is, where you’re at in your menstrual cycle, the nature of your poops that day, whether or not you’ve been drinking, etc.

So if one day your G/P-Spot is the best thing ever and the next day it’s just not doing it for you … never fear, that is totally legit.

Myth: I was looking for my own G-Spot and I couldn’t find it … so I probably don’t have one.

Fact: Your G-Spot may have been 'hiding.'

This one is specifically for our lady-bodied people. The prostate in fellas is shaped like a walnut and is always protruding into the rectum. That’s why Docs can find it pretty easily when they’re doing a prostate exam (which, by the way fellas, you should start getting at age 40/50).

But, for our ladies. So, you’re like “I’m gonna find my g-spot today.” You strip down, you put some fingers in your vag, and you search around and you’re like …”WTF, where is it?”

Instead of concluding that you don’t have one, try getting yourself turned on first. Watch some lady-friendly, non misogynistic porn. Read some erotica. Diddle your pearl (i.e. masturbate your clitoris, sucka). Have a dirty talk session with your boo on G-Chat. Whatever works best for you.

Then, after you’ve gotten plenty turned on, try to find your G-Spot once again. You may find that with the increased blood flow to the pelvis everything is more sensitive and finding the G-Spot is easier. If you’re having issues getting the angle right on your own, you may also want to use a G-Spot toy (a toy with a curve, generally) OR ask your favorite sex partner to come on over and lend a hand.

Pun TOTALLY intended.

Note: If you do happen to find your G-Spot, there is a chance that when you first play with it, you'll feel like you have to pee. If you just let this feeling ride for 10-30 seconds, there's a chance the 'needing to pee' feeling will go away. If it doesn't go away, you may just need to pee. Crazy, right?

Myth: Only gay dudes let people play with their P-Spots.

Fact: As someone who has personal experience playing with the P-Spots of some of the straightest dudes I know … all I can say is this is hella not true.

They may have let me put my fingers in their butts, they may have moaned and asked for more, but at the end of the day, they only enjoyed every skillfully implemented moment because there was a hot lady doing it.

Something I encourage every man, woman, and post-pubescent child to do is think about how homophobia may be limiting your sex life. Doing things that gay people happen to do doesn’t make you gay. In fact the only thing that does make you gay is if you look at yourself and say, “Dude, I’m gay.” True story.

But, getting back to the P-Spot. If you let someone play inside your butt and you like it, what that means about you is that you like when people play inside your butt. It may also mean that you’ve opened up a whole new avenue of pleasure for yourself.

AND letting someone play with your P-Spot (or just ejaculating on a regular basis, for that matter) can help to reduce the risks of prostate cancer later in life by regularly flushing potentially carcinogenic (cancer causing) cells. You could be saving your own life by letting someone play with your P-Spot.

Myth: If someone wants to play with a P-Spot they have to go through the rectum.

Fact: You can indirectly access the P-Spot by playing with the taint.

To directly play with the P-Spot, this is true. It does require fingers or toys or penises covered in lube (the lube part is important) going inside someone’s butt.

However, you can indirectly stimulate the P-Spot through the perineal body (also known as the Taint, The Gootch, or The Grundle). It’s that spot between the balls and the anus. If you put firm upward pressure on that spot you’re directly stimulating the root of the penis AND you’re indirectly stimulating the P-Spot.

Myth: I have one more myth to talk about.

Fact: I don’t.

BUT, one last thing to take with you is, whether you own a G-Spot OR a P-Spot, your brain is still the most powerful sex organ you own. Especially if you’re a first time G/P-Spot user, I recommend looking for your G/P-Spot at a time when you’re least likely to be distracted (and that means either distracted in the moment OR distracted by things happening in life).

I wish you and your G/P-Spots the best!

Keep Thinking

-Becca

A Journey Through Sexually Transmitted INFECTIONS

2010-03-25T00:22:00.002-04:00

Some of you who aren’t in the sex ed world may notice that throughout my blog posts I refrain from using the acronym ‘STD,’ and instead use the acronym ‘STI.’

Have you ever wondered why?

I am going to take you on a journey through STIs to give you the lowdown on what I think is important for everyone to know. This journey will also enlighten you as to why I'm ditching the 'D.'

1. STIs come in two basic varieties: Curable and Treatable.
What does “curable” mean? It means that if you get it treated right away, the antibiotics get the infection completely out of your body. Of the most common STIs, the following are curable: Chlamydia, Gonorrhea (The Clap), Syphilis, Trichomoniasis and Pubic Lice (Crabs).

The other four STIs are classified as “treatable.” This means that while there are no medications available to get them out of your system completely, they are manageable with a regiment of medications. HIV/AIDS, Herpes, Hepatitis, and HPV (Genital Warts) are all treatable STIs.

Want an easy way to remember the difference? Of the most common STIs, all the treatable ones start with “H.”

Side Note: You can’t cure crabs by shaving off all your pubes (or even waxing for that matter). Why not? Because the little bugs in your pubes lay eggs in the hair follicle. Even if you don’t have a bushy forest for them to grow in, it’s possible for the eggs to last long enough to sustain your infestation when your pubes grow back in. The only way out of a crab infestation is to get a medicated pube shampoo from a clinician.

2. When treated, STIs will not kill you.
Unless you leave an STI in your body without taking medication, you shouldn’t have any fear of STI related death.

And because of the advances in HIV meds, people are living long, long periods of time. And although HIV sets up your immune system for failure, it is actually an opportunistic infection (i.e. a type of illness that wouldn't normally kill you, or wouldn't affect a healthy immune system) that becomes cause of death for folks that have HIV/AIDS.

3. The most common thing that will happen to your body when you get an STI is …
…NOTHING.

That’s right kiddies. Even without symptoms, you still have the STI. This means that you can still spread it to others AND that it’s still in your body. If you leave some STIs in the body untreated they can result in complications to your reproductive system later on down the road. Also, if you’ve been rocking STI symptoms and they go away … that doesn’t mean the STI is gone. You could totally still spread whatever you’ve got.

4. How do you figure out if you have an STI? Get tested. When?

At a time where someone calls you up and says “Um, hey brah, I have Chlamydia. I’m pretty sure I had it while we hooked up.” That’s a time where you should get tested right away.

Or maybe, you’ve decided that you and your partner are going to (safely, of course) stop using condoms. That’s a time where you should get tested right away

Or you look down and your genitals are unexplainably itchy, drippy, smelly, swollen, bumpy, or in any other way not looking or feeling like they usually look or feel. That’s a time where you should get tested right away.

Or if you’re deciding to sleep with somebody new and you happen to have two weeks to wait for test results. That’s a time where you should get tested right away.

If none of that is going down, rocking to your doc every 6 months for an STI screening is a good call. Note: This is even important if you’re in a long-term monogamous relationship. Not because STIs will magically arise out of thin air, but because People Are Probably Going To Sleep Around, Even If They’re In A Relationship.

5. STIs are spread through sexual contact.
Like i just mentioned, STIs don't just magically appear. Either you or one of your partners has to have one for it to spread. If one of you does have an STI, keep reading to see what kinds of stuff will spread an STI.

If you’ve got a penis, you can spread or get an STI when you…
• Put your penis in an anus (butthole).
• Put your penis in a vagina.
• Put your penis in someone’s mouth.
• Rub your penis on someone else’s penis, vulva or anus (without putting it inside).

If you’ve got a vagina, you can spread or get an STI when you…
• Wrap your vagina around a penis.
• Wrap your vagina around a sex toy that someone else used without cleaning it first.

If you’ve got a vulva, you can spread or get an STI when you…
• Put your vulva in someone’s mouth.
• Rub your vulva on someone else’s vulva, penis, or anus.

If you’ve got an anus, you can spread or get an STI when you…
• Wrap your anus around a penis.
• Wrap your anus around a sex toy that someone else used without cleaning it first.
• Put your anus in someone’s mouth.
• Rub your anus on someone else’s anus, vulva, or penis.

6. There are things that are more likely to spread an STI than others.
The order is Anus-Penis Sex, Vagina-Penis Sex, Oral Sex, and then Skin-To-Skin Contact.

STIs can also sometimes be spread with fingers, but the likelihood is pretty low. Wait, how, you ask? If you’ve got an open cut on your fingers, an STI that travels via blood could possibly get into your partner, or your partners fluids could possibly carry an STI into your blood stream.

7. STIs are preventable.
One of these ones is not like the other one. Guess which one and think about why!

• You’re on public transportation and the person who you were lucky enough to get crammed next to coughs on you the whole bus ride home. You wake up the next morning with a wicked cold.
• You’re walking down the street and all of a sudden a crazy dog starts chasing you and bites your forearm. You go to the hospital to get patched up and find out you’ve got rabies.
• You’re having sex with a slammin’ hottie and you decide you want to fuck them without latex getting in the way. You wake up a week later and your genitals are dripping and itchy.

I’ll give you a moment to think.

So, obviously the third one is the one that’s different. Why? Because of the choice factor. Although you could choose to not take the bus, walk down the street, or have sex ... you can’t choose who you stand next to on the bus, you can’t choose not to get attacked by a rabid dog, BUT you damn well can choose to use a condom when you're fucking.

Important Note: I want to acknowledge that despite my former example there are times when people are forced to have sex against their will and contract STIs as a result. Obviously in a scenario like that, there is little choice in being able to prevent an STI.

8. Barrier?
When we’re talking about sex, a barrier is a piece of latex (or sometimes Polyurethane or Polyisoprene) that stops STIs from jumping from one body to the next.

Condoms can be used when a penis involved, either during insertion OR during oral. Condoms can also be used when there are plans to share sex toys. Dental dams or plastic wrap can be used on a vulva or anus during oral sex. Gloves can be used over fingers.

REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE: DO NOT. And I mean seriously … DO NOT try to use plastic wrap (or plastic bags or sandwich bags) as condoms. Seriously. It won’t work.

9. Condoms are pretty damn good, but not perfect in preventing STIs.
Condoms have been shown to be super effective in preventing STI transmission when they’re used correctly.

However, some STIs (like Herpes and HPV) can spread through skin-to-skin contact. So if there are any parts the condom isn’t covering, STIs could spread.

And … sometimes condoms fail. There is a 2% chance that any condom you use (even if you’ve used it perfectly) will malfunction.

This means that the most effective way to prevent an STI is through avoiding all the activities listed in #4. That doesn’t stop you from some hot dry humping, a sexy massage, convincing your partner to rock a sexy strip tease for you, or even jacking off out a window. (That last one is stolen from Ricky Gervais’ standup.) There are some seriously creative ways you can still have hot sex with your partner without putting yourself at risk.

10. Time to bring it home.
So, now that you know all this new information about STIs, why is it that there has been a switch from using ‘disease’ to using ‘infection?’

Disease. Say it out loud (or think it in your head if you’re at work). What do you think about?

When I asked this question to high school students, the answer I usually got went something like, “When you have a disease, you get really really really sick. And then you probably die.” Not only is that the connotation that comes with the word disease … but then there’s also the idea that it’s uncontrollable and non-preventable. Also, if we’re talking specifically about the definition of disease, it is generally associated with some sort of symptom.

Now think about the word infection. Say it and/or think it. What do you think of now?

Still not the most pleasant of words, but ‘infection’ definitely has a different swagger than disease. It’s still not something you want, but it does have the connotation of at least being something manageable. Infection is defined by the characteristic of the body being invaded and preyed upon by whatever has gotten in there.

Although there are lots of justifications that folks have come up with in terms of phasing out the "D", the information I've shared with you today shows you why I use STI instead of STD. I feel like calling them STDs would be misidentifying them both in terms of raw definitions AND in terms of the connotations associated with them. As someone who likes to promote accuracy, calling them STDs, to me, feels inaccurate.

And now, my friends, you know.

Keep Thinking.

-Becca

Masturbation is like Basketball Practice

2010-03-22T01:52:00.002-04:00

So, with March Madness in the air (oh Bears … at least you made it past the first round), I’d like to take this time to talk about some reasons why fucking yourself is basically the same thing as practicing for a basketball game.

First, let’s define masturbation. Masturbation is when the person giving sexual pleasure to you … is you. And that could look like anything. You could be lying on your stomach, humping your favorite pillow or using vibration on your nipples while you stare at yourself in the mirror or simply thinking sexy thoughts until you get turned on and or/orgasm.

(And BTW, Mutual Masturbation is when you are pleasuring yourself while your partner(s) is pleasuring themselves. If you're touching each other ... that is mutual manual stimulation.)

To really understand how Masturbation is like basketball practice, I want you to think about playing a full-fledged game of basketball (or whatever sport or exercise you’d like to swap in) without ever having played before. That’s right, you’re a newbie and this is the first time you’ve ever stepped foot on a court. You may have seen some other people play, you may have read some rule books and strategy guides, but you’ve never been in on the action, personally.

Based on the aforementioned scenario, I want to talk about how people would do during this theoretical game.

The rare person is gonna go out onto the court, grab the ball, out-play every other player, and at some point during the game, even possibly break the backboard with a huge slam dunk. I mean, obviously.

Some people will get out there and do alright. They’ll know to dribble, they’ll understand which basket they’re playing toward, and they’ll have a general idea of what will cause a foul. Even though they have an understanding of the game, actual knowledge of physical execution is lacking. They’ll make it through the game; it just might not be pretty.

Then there are those who will get out there, and just fail. They’ll travel, they’ll double dribble, they’ll airball, they’ll get picked, etc. Just plain awful.

Since it is only the rare person who’s gonna go out there and immediately school people … it’s obvious that most people could benefit from what, now kiddies?

That’s right, practice.

If those who were failures had gotten out on the court before the game and practiced dribbling while running and maybe even a little shooting, they may not have been complete failures.

If those who did alright had gotten to translate their knowledge into action before game-time, they may have actually shown some of the other players a thing or two.

Even the natural all-star could benefit from practicing free-throws to make sure that their fundamentals were on lock.

If you haven’t already picked up where this metaphor was going, let me spell it out for you.

Masturbation = Basketball Practice
Sex (However You Define It) = The Basketball Game

So, just like basketball practice preps you for playing in actual games, masturbation preps you for sex play.

When you masturbate, you’re learning the rules of your body.

When playing a game, each basketball player has an individual way in which their body moves as they’re on the court. The way players run, dribble, and shoot will all have individualized style. Practicing is the way in which players figure out what will make them most successful while on the court.

Masturbation is like basketball practice because you’re going to find out how your unique body works. You’ll figure out what feels good when it’s touched, what doesn’t feel so good and what could possibly feel good. As you masturbate more and more, you’ll figure out what pressure, intensity and duration are needed in order to really get you going. This knowledge will give you a huge advantage because it’s something you can share with your partner(s).

When you masturbate alone, you’re contributing to sexual strategy.

So, you’re in basketball practice, and you are the fucking free-throw master. Your free throw is always on point, and you have no problems getting it into the basket. You’ve gotten that good because you also practice shooting free-throws at home in a no-pressure, no-audience situation. You’ve been able to really think about how your body needs to move in order to make the free-throw happen.

Just like shooting free-throws alone, pleasuring yourself alone provides plenty of time to explore in a pressure-free environment. It can just be you and your body and you may figure things out that you wouldn’t think about, or perhaps were too distracted to think about, while someone was watching. You can also practice pleasuring yourself in different ways to increase the number of stimuli that get you off.

If you masturbate with an audience, it contributes to sexual strategy.

If during basketball practice it becomes obvious that you can’t make a 3-point shot to save your life but are a beast in the paint … your teammates are going to know by watching you play during practice. This knowledge will ultimately help your stats and the team’s chances to win. If it’s a clutch moment, they know when to pass to you and when to just let you play D.

When you masturbate in front of a partner(s) (to orgasm or not) you’re showing your partner(s) strategy for success. They can see where and how you touch yourself, they can see what kind of touch gets you revved up, and they may even be able to pick out what kind of touch pushes you over the edge. The more times you’ve practiced (i.e. the more experienced of a masturbator you are), the more this act will be meaningful because of the likelihood that you’ll be better at getting yourself off.

Sometimes, masturbation can sometimes be just as, or more satisfying, than sex.

You’re practicing for a game, and for whatever reason you’re on fire. You’re making all your shots, you’re drawing offensive fouls, and fools are can’t touch you while you’re playing. Even though there wasn’t the same energy as there is during a game, you leave practice feeling great because of what you accomplished. A a good solid practice often feels better than a lost game.

After a solid masturbation session, just like after a solid basketball practice, life can feel pretty good. Although it may not have the same energy and excitement of a game, a good self-pleasuring session always has possibility to leave you feeling good and satisfied afterward. Also, just like in basketball games, things don't always go as planned. In times like these, masturbation can be way more fun and satisfying than sex.

Masturbation can prepare you for some things – but not everything – sexual.

So you’ve never played a game before, but you’ve conditioned, shot so many lay-ups you can make them with your eyes closed, and know how to elicit fouls better than anyone on your team. In practice, you’re at the top of your game, but it didn’t prepare you for the noise of the fans in the arena, the heat of the lights, or the way it actually feels to play another team. Although you’ve got those fundamentals down, it is a whole different process to apply them during the game atmosphere.

Masturbation is definitely like basketball practice in this respect. There are just some things you can’t prepare for. The way your partner(s) scent makes your mind go blank … or the fact that your partner’s hands are a different size than yours … or that having sex in a different bed (or not in a bed) changes your response. Also things that may not feel good during masturbation may feel great during sex, and vice versa. So while solo-pleasure is super important to having good sexual game, one also needs to be aware that partnered play also increases sexual game and sexual knowledge.

Going back to the basketball metaphor, its why even sometimes the most promising of freshman recruits or rookies may not shine as brightly as they did at the previous level. Although they have practiced and played before, they have to learn how to adapt their skills to the new arena.

Conclusion: Practice Makes Perfect

Masturbation, orgasms and sex are all learned skills, just like basketball skills. You may not be an all-star your first time out, but there are things you can do to at least up your game a little bit. You wanna get really good? Practice, practice, practice.

(And, just like in sports, practicing sex safely will help make it so that you can avoid being benched due to STIs and/or unexpected pregnancy.)

That’s right, I just gave you permission to touch yourself … often. So while you're not watching the tournament (even during the half or a commercial if you're so inspired) remember to practice some skill-building self-lovin'!

And, of course…

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Becca's Back In the Pleasure Party Business!

2010-03-18T09:53:00.004-04:00

I was having some major writers block last night, so my apologies that this is late.

Before I begin. Remember my Yes, No, Maybe Chart post? Well Charlie Glickman, PhD (my former boss and all around awesome dude) wrote a great blog post on the topic. Check it out!

So, as many of you may (or may not) know, when I was chillin’ back in San Francisco after I graduated from Cal, I got a gig with Good Vibrations as a pleasure party consultant. I was the senior-most pleasure party consultant for the company until they discontinued their program in late 2008.

As of a couple weeks ago, it looks like I’m getting back in the game!

Since it’s on my brain and I can’t muster up anything else (and even though I know this is shameless self promotion), I’m going to talk about reasons why pleasure parties are awesome!

#1 A Sex Toy Store (basically) comes to you!
Just by setting up a date, time, location, and inviting 10-100 of your dearest friends, a person who has some serious Sex Toy expertise will trot out to your house with a bag full of sex toys and answer all your burning questions about how sex toys can make a great addition to your bag-o-sex-tricks.

If you happen to get a rep with major education (like yours truly), you can also get hella other sex questions answered as well.

#2 You never have to leave your comfort zone.
For some folks, rocking into a sex toy store ain’t no thang. For others who have never been in sex shops, who live too far away from good sex shops, OR who possibly had a bad experience in a skeezy sex shop … going to a sex shop might not be within their comfort zone.

Parties are great if you’re really interested in toys, but aren’t interested in being a public space while you learn about them. You can be in the comfort of your own home, or at least in the comfort of a friend’s home.

#3 If you don’t have a lot of experience with sex toys, having a Pleasure Party rep there to help you out can be just what you need.
Because they know the product line pretty well, they'll be able to listen to what your needs are, what you're looking to use the toy for, and steer you in the direction of the best sex toy for you!

#4 Pleasure Parties are a fun way to celebrate basically anything.
Seriously anything. A birthday, marriage, a new baby, graduation from college, Thursday … whatever.

Pleasure Parties are a super cool way to get friends together and hang out AND learn a whole bunch about toys and your body.

#5 You can even do Pleasure Parties in the store.
Don't want to open your home up? Don't want to have to clean up after the party? Many sex shops that do pleasure parties will allow you to host a party in the store either during store hours or after-hours. Which means that after your official presentation, you get the added bonus of being able to take your sex toy home right away (instead of waiting for it to be shipped to you).

Pleasure parties are way fun, and wherever you live, if you get a chance to either host or attend a pleasure party, it’s an experience I highly recommend!

As per me, I will be doing pleasure parties through The Velvet Lily, an up-and-coming store in the Northern Liberties Area in Philadelphia. If you're currently living in or around Philly, you can click here to book a party. If you want me as your rep, put “I’d like Becca as my rep’ in the ‘comments’ section!

Also, here’s a fun review of the store that you can check out!

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Condom Shopping

2010-03-15T00:39:00.006-04:00

Condoms.

In the past, I have been guilty of educating that condoms will fit any penis. I’ve blown up condoms to the size of large watermelons and asked classrooms full of students if they thought any human’s penis was bigger than the blown up condom. No? Then, it’ll probably fit, right?

Well, yes. It is true that you can force a condom onto pretty much any penis … but as my penis’ed brethren may know … just because it fits doesn’t mean it feels good.

And that’s because it’s true that condoms mute sensation during penetrative sex. It’s the trade-off for STI and/or pregnancy prevention.

With that being said, you can still totally find condoms that will work with you, and will probably also come across some that will work against you. Which condom is which varies greatly from dude to dude, lady to lady, couple to couple, and even session to session. So … how do you figure out which condom is best for you? You gotta think about a couple things, and then you’ve gotta do some exploration.

Here are some tips for stuff to think about when you hit up that huge wall o’condoms at your local drug store.

#1 Material

Condoms currently come in four materials. I will list out some details about each.

Latex. Someone give you a free condom? It’s probably going to be a latex condom. If you’re buying condoms, these will have the lowest prices on the shelves, generally.

Polyisoprene (Lifestyles Skyn Condoms) – Does your skin get itchy or swollen when you use latex? Then these are a great alternative. They’re usually a bit more expensive than Latex, but not by much.

Polyurethane (Trojan Supra) – Also a non-latex style. These tend to be more expensive than polyisoprene or latex. These condoms also tend to be wider than ‘standard’ condoms, so they may not fit smaller penises.

Lamb Skin – These DO NOT. I repeat DO NOT protect from STIs. They will keep you from getting pregnant, but you could still get an STI while wearing a lambskin condom. These are by far, the most expensive of all condoms. The reason? Most are made from sheep intestine. It’s much more expensive to harvest intestine than it is to manufacture the other three materials. (Word.)

#2 Brand
This is one where it’s definitely different strokes for different folks. People have their total go-to brand, some people can use any brand of condoms, and some people go through phases.

Don’t know what brand you like? Go to your local sex-shop or go online and between one of the two you'll be able to find a sample pack of your liking.

Buy a condom sampler, and get ready to experiment. You don’t have to try to the whole condom sampler in one night, but I do recommend trying 2-3 condoms per session. (You don’t have to ejaculate 2-3 times, but you can take the condoms off mid-session and swap in a new one). This way, instead of forgetting which condoms you liked or didn’t like, you’ll at least remember the best of the three.

#3 Size
Although you can go to this website and get custom sized condoms (at least until the end of March, as it looks like they may be discontinuing production), condoms generally come in three sizes.

Now before I begin this, I need to iterate that buying condoms should NOT be about you or your partners’ ego. Whether you walk out of the store with Slims or XLs, I feel like you should be damn proud of yourself for being smart, regardless of what those condoms say about the size of the penis they’re going to be put on.

The first size range you’ll find is for folks with penises on the smaller side. If you look for words like “Slim” or “Snug Fit,” those should totally help you get the job done.

The second size range is ‘standard.’ This is for folks with average sized penises. How big is an average sized penis? 5 – 6 inches long. Most condoms that are ‘one size’ or have no sort of markings to show they are different sizes are ‘standard.’

The third: XL, XXL, Xtra Wide, Large, etc. These are for penises that are generally wider than the average penis. Now, I have no stats on penis width, so I will say this. If the ring at the bottom of the condom is really uncomfortable or even painful at the base of your penis, you may need to shop for a larger condom. Although they can be, many XL condoms aren’t much longer than standard condoms.

#4 Thickness
So, the thicker a condom, the less sensation passes through that condom. Although using lube can help to increase the sensitivity, if your condom is 8 inches thick … it’s not going to feel good.

Now … I don’t know how thick every condom is, but something that is true is condoms made by US manufacturers tend toward the thicker side.

Your best bet, if you really want to avoid thick condoms is to go for a Japanese brand (Like Kimono) OR just look for the words “thin” on the package.

#5 Shape/Texture
Now, let’s talks bumps, ridges, nubs, etc. Do these do anything? Not for everyone. Some folks can feel the nubs or ridges because their bodies are super sensitive. Other folks can’t feel things like that at all.

One’s best bet in terms of finding condoms that may feel different is looking into condoms with non-traditional designs. For example, the Pleasure Plus condom essentially has extra space in the head of the condom. This extra space allows for the head of the penis to ‘breathe’ a bit more. There are condoms that have extra room in the head, spiral shapes … all kinds of stuff.

#7 Lubed Up or Not
So, some condoms come with lube already added, some are non-lubricated, and some are spermicidally lubricated. So which do you choose?

Most condoms that read ‘lubricated’ will have a silicone based lubricant already applied (some may be water based). If you’re into more lube, this may not be enough, but at least it’s there.

Non-lubricated condoms are … well … not lubricated. They’re usually covered in a white powder (so the latex doesn’t fuse together) and they are BONE DRY. You should buy these if you are a lube snob and only have a specific kind of lube you like. OR, if perhaps you or your partners have sensitive tissues that require that you only use a certain kind of lubricant.

Spermicidally Lubricated Condoms. As an educator … I don’t advocate for these personally. Although the idea of spermicide is cool, the chemical agent used in spermicide (nonoxynol – 9) can be irritating to tissues. When tissues are irritated, they are more likely to let STIs in.

Also, just because we’re on the topic … adding 1-3 drops of lube on the inside of a condom can make it feel better for the person wearing it. But remember … only 1-3 drops. If you put anymore lube than that on the inside of a condom … it could slip off. Whoops!

And! Using flavored condoms for intercourse is a poor choice. They break a lot easier AND the lube on those can burn for the person on the receiving end. No fun.

#8 Some last things to keep in mind.
Sharing sex toys has the potential to spread STIs as well. If you are sharing sex toys, throw a condom over it, and then change the condoms between partners.

In terms of condom use, remember to check your expiration dates, pinch that tip as you roll the condom down, change your condom any time you lose wood AND when you’re pulling out, make sure you hold on to that bottom ring so the condom doesn’t slip out inside your partner.

Keep your condoms in a cool, dry, sharp-object free place. That means no wallets, no pockets (for long periods of time), and don’t keep a condom free-floating in a purse or backpack.

Altoids Tins make great condom cases.

I feel like this is a no-brainer at this point … but just in case … remember … DO NOT put oil on condoms. Things like lotions, massage oils, chap-stick (word), Vaseline, etc will pop your condom. (If you want to do something fun, you can blow up a condom and rub baby oil on it for a bit. That’ll teach you what oil does to condoms real quick.)

If you are planning on fucking (or even if you’re not) … prep by packing a condom. Condoms are everyone’s responsibility. And hey, you never know when a friend might need to borrow one.

Have fun Condom Shopping. Have more fun condom sampling.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Another Wasted Night At The Bar: Legit Reasons to Think About Online Dating

2010-03-11T00:29:00.002-05:00

So, there are lots of reasons to go to Bars. Drinking, dancing, de-stressing, chillin’ with your peeps, escaping your reality … whatevs.

But a big reason why people go to Bars is because it is a socially acceptable place to look for love (whether that be a night of lovin’ or the love of your life).

However, after a couple convos with friends, acquaintances, and a stranger or two, I’ve come to realize that while folks totally dig on bars, there are some laments in terms of finding quality hook-ups or quality love at bars.

So they ask me, “Becca, where do I go instead?”

And my first answer is always “Online.”

To which I am met with shock and despair. “Becca, obviously only desperate, sad, ugly, pathetic, losers shop for love online right?”

To which I reply, “What is this, 1996? Get with it, suckas. Not just the desperate are turning to online sources for anything from a hook-up to long-term love. Many totally healthy and well-adjusted folks have found that in an age where the only spaces just for young single people seem to be bars, more and more young, hot people are turning to the internet for quality connections.”

To which they reply, “I dunno, brah. Still sounds sketchy.”

To which I reply, “Well, here are some things to think about.”

#1 Alcohol
So you’re at a bar. You see a CRAZY hottie shaking their groove thang on the dance floor. You take another sip of your 4th or 5th drink of the night and you walk on over and ask if you can shake it with them. You guys dance a little bit, chat a little bit, and then at one point one of you asks the other if you’d like to go home with them. You’re passionately making out, you start to get naked.

And then someone’s dick doesn’t work, or someone’s clit isn’t sensitive enough, or shit is just plain sloppy, or you can’t get the condom on correctly, or you wake up the next morning not remembering how you got there, or you wake up the next morning and realize that the hottie was NOT actually a hottie. Another wasted night because of the bar.

Alcohol, as we know, both impairs judgment and actually creates physiological barriers where sexy messages don’t get to the brain as clearly.

By dating online, the decision making process (unless you’re getting wasted while surfing profiles), is sober. Which means that you’ll have more ability to be discriminatory when choosing whose ads you’re going to answer, or whose profiles actually strike your fancy. When you meet someone in person, you can even choose to skip the alcohol altogether.

#2 Shy Folks
So, you’re at a bar. You’re really shy. You have a couple drinks to try to shake off some inhibition. But really, you’re still shy after a couple drinks. You wait for someone to approach you. Nobody does. Another wasted night at the bar.

If you’re the type that, even with a few drinks in the system, has issues just walking up to folks and talking to them, an online venture may be perfect. You have time to carefully think about what you’d like to say, you have lots of time to think carefully about messaging the person in the first place, and then you have lots of time to decide whether or not you’d like to meet them in person. You can also be straight up and put in your profile “I am kind of shy, but I love responding to messages, so hit me up, brah!”

#3 Rejection
So, you’re at a bar. You see a mad hottie. You go up and introduce yourself, offer to buy them a drink. They laugh at you and say no. Or they chat with you, and you think you’re doing really well, only for them to ditch you for the first Jersey Shore lookalike (no offense meant if that’s what you look like. Good for you for scoring a hottie!). Not only did you get straight rejected, but now you have to watch the object of your advances grind up against another person all night. When you return to the bar next week, they’re there, and you have to relive the rejection. Another wasted night at the bar.

When you message people online, usually the worst thing that happens when you’re getting a rejection is people don’t message back. In the best rejections they do message back, but are polite about it. Sometimes people are blunt can say pretty f’ed up things when they reject you online. But, usually no one is there to witness the rejection. A huge bonus for folks who aren’t a fan of being rejected to their faces. Also, the chances of you ever seeing that person in the non-online world are pretty slim.

#4 Specific Needs
So, you’re at a bar. You figure, it’s a bar, there are bound to be a good variety of folks to choose from. You happen to be a sugar daddy and/or momma looking for a sugar baby with a Jewish background. You look around and proposition everyone in the bar. But all the people you talk to are either catholic or aren’t interested in being your sugar baby. Another wasted night at the bar.

Because many people are hooked into the internets, there are a variety of ways to find exactly what you want. Some sites connect you to other people through demographic specific marketing (like dating sites for the Jewish community). Some sites connect you to other people through relationship specific marketing (like dating sites for sugar babies and sugar daddies/mommas). Other sites are larger communities for people of all backgrounds where you can choose options for nature of relationships you’re looking for (casual, FWB, long-term, etc). And then there are even sites where you simply place an ad looking for EXACTLY what you want (someone who wants to give me non-reciprocated head while I sing the national anthem).

#5 Variety
So, you’re at a bar. Let’s say there are 100 people in that bar. Hella people from whom to choose the love of your life, right? Except, 50 of those people are not of your preferred gender. 26 of those people are already in relationships. Of the 24 that are left, 3 are not your preferred orientation, 15 are not of your preferred aesthetics, and 4 are not going to be interested in you. Which leaves you with 2 possibilities. Let’s hope they’re not D-Bags. Because if they are … it’ll just be another wasted night at the bar.

So, that’s an obviously exaggerated example, but statistically speaking you will find both greater variety AND larger numbers of people online. Instead of 100 people to choose from, you may be looking at up to 10000 profiles. And because the love of your life may not live in Manayunk (believe me, mine doesn’t), searching online may help you to find that person across town, across the state, across the country, or across the world that totally rocks your socks off. Statistically speaking, online dating gives you access to a greater variety and volume of people.

#6 D-Bags
So, you’re at a bar. You’re kicking it with friends, looking slammin’ and scoping the bar for hotties. But people keep being all up in your business talking to you. Offering to buy you drinks, asking you if you wanna dance. But they’re all douchey about it. You fend them off, but it’s get old telling people you’re not interested. So many douchebags talk to you, you just get frustrated and give up on finding an actual connection. Another wasted night at the bar.

With online dating, you have so much choice and control over who you talk to. People can message you and hit you up, but you have the option to not message them back. Also, in cases where people are persistent, there are often options to block people from being able to contact you. So instead of having to have your friends run defense, you can just have the website programming do it for you. (You can also put, “Don’t message me if you’re a douche,” in your profile.)

#7 Dealbreakers
So, you’re at a bar. You’ve totally hit it off with this major slammin’ hottie. They’re smart, funny, consume all the same media that you do (including Becca’s Sex Blog). They lean in, you get butterflies in your stomach, and they ask “Wanna go outside and grab a cigarette?” And you’re like “No. Fuck. Dealbreaker. Sorry.” You explain that your ex-partner had a terrible smoking habit and you just can’t handle kissing ash-tray mouth ever again. Another wasted night at the bar.

Don’t want a long term relationship? Don’t like cigarette smokers? Don’t want someone who has kids? Don’t want a pet owner? With online dating, you can screen for lots of dealbreakers ahead of time. When meeting someone at a bar it may be off-putting for you to be like “Hi, my name is Becca, you’re hot, but I’m not really interested in talking to you if you want kids in the future.” In the online world, that is both totally legit AND expected behavior. It’s cool to lay everything out in blunt, open terms, so that you’re not wasting your or potential partners times.

So then, my friends are like, “Ok … but are there any ways that they’re tied?”

To which I say, “Hell Yeah!”

#8 Rapport
So, you’re at a bar. You’re chatting it up with someone, and you two have great rapport! You decide to meet with them when you’re sober and your rapport is still phenomenal. And things are awesome. A productive evening because of the bar.

But, sometimes, you’re at a bar. You’re chatting it up with someone and two have great rapport! You decide to meet with them when you’re both sober, and it turns out that your rapport was aided by alcohol. And things are awful. Another wasted night because of the bar.

With online dating, sometimes people require lots of time chatting online, talking on the phone, and establishing a sense of trust before taking the plunge and meeting in person. However, online rapport, phone rapport and even webcam rapport can be VERY different than rapport in person. So sometimes, even though you’ve put a lot of work into getting to know someone via electronic means, when you meet them in person … it turns out be a waste of time because your in-person rapport sucks.

But of course, just like switching from drunk to sober … switching from online to in-person can be just fine.

And then my friends say, “So, I feel like dating someone you meet online is like buying a car without going to the showroom first.”

To which I respond, “Well, except for the fact that I'm not really a fan of that analogy, there is one big advantage to meeting people in a bar first. What you see is, sort of, what you get.”

#9 Senses
So, you’re a bar. You can see, touch, smell, feel, hear, and sometimes even taste your potential future partner. Biologically speaking, this is actually really important to mate selection (do I smell a post for a later date? Hell Yeah!). Although usually they smell and taste like alcohol, being able to do these things is, biologically speaking, important. Even though your judgment might suck, you get a good general idea of how the person physically exists. Sometimes, nights aren’t wasted at the bar.

With online dating, there is a rift between how a person exists online and how they exist in real life. If you’ve only seen a picture of someone, it doesn’t describe their 3 dimensionality (not to mention that sometimes people show up and can look VASTLY different than the pictures they’ve provided). Also, while you might like the way someone looks via a picture, you may hate the way their voice sounds. OR, you may like the way they look, like the way they sounded via webcam, and then show up and their scents (either artificial or pheromonal) may just totally turn you off. Another wasted online effort.

And then I always like to close with my favorite joke that only folks from Philadelphia will get (and my apologies to anyone who identifies as a Manayunkian. I know that when you’re not in the bars, you’re probably not as douchey).

#10 Manayunk
So, you’re at a bar. Either a DJ or a cover band is playing top 40 hits. Everyone around you is either a dudebro or a bitty (the dudebro’s female counterpart). Everyone apparently bought their clothing at that “I was in a Greek organization in college and don’t know how to move-on” warehouse. As a woman, at any age older than 26 you are a cougar. You attempt to talk to people, but they stare at you blankly when you use polysyllabic words. Another wasted night at the bar.

Online dating allows you to not date people who go to bars in Manayunk.

(Again, I don’t like to generalize, and it’s not THAT bad. And not everyone in Manayunk bars are like that. If you ever rock a bar in Manayunk, you might just love it.)

At the end of this rather long and detailed conversation, I like to end by saying, “Whether you decide that you still are going to find love in a bar or take the plunge into the world of online dating … I hope you’ve at least learned something. I also hope that you realize that there are legit and rational reasons for anyone to try online dating. So in the future, perhaps you can be less of a hater when talking about people who choose to date via the internets.”

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

Dr. Granville

2010-03-08T00:43:00.003-05:00

Erotica Throwback. Enjoy. -Becca

PS. The Erection Physiology Lecture is total fantasy. Just keeping your knowledge up.

“More touch. Listen, you’re never going to pass if you don’t touch more than my tits, ass, and cunt. There is more to my body than those three parts. Lesson 1, remember?”

As she yelled at him, his breath intensified and his cock got so hard it was almost painful. She was a rigorous instructor, and wouldn’t stop until he got it right.

He thought back to the day it started.
….

He entered the class late.

Ha had entered this way for the past few lectures.

Not late enough to be too disruptive. Just late enough so that he would be seen as he walked through the class.

It was for her.

She was a substitute instructor in his Human Sexuality lecture. The rumors that this class was a GPA boost because it was all based on bullshit introspection proved true originally. As long as you turned in the assignments, it didn’t matter what you wrote. Well … until she showed up.

“Here’s something I know. I know half of you are in here because this class is marginally interesting and you want to learn about Sexuality. I also know that half of you are here because the normal professor is so old that you know he falls asleep before he can finish grading assignments. To the formerly mentioned group, we will get along just fine. For those of you in the latter category, you will put in the work to learn. If you don’t I will fill your spot with someone on the waitlist. Welcome to college, loves.”

And she wasn’t fooling around either. He started failing after her 3rd week. Not because she wasn’t a great instructor. She was. He had learned more about his sexuality in 3 weeks that she had been there than he had in the entire 19 years of his life.

The problem was that she was a slammin’ hottie. Olive skin, light eyes, brown hair, a killer bootie and the woman could lecture like no one he had ever experienced.

And all the homework was still introspective, but for real. So every time he went to write, there she would be, in his head. He couldn’t shake it and could never clear his head long enough to finish adequate assignments.

So he started coming to class late. Hoping that his slightly frazzled late appearances might be a good cover that he could milk to explain his recent failures.

“And that is physiology of male g-spot stimulation. When we resume next Tuesday, we’ll be discussing role plays that center around the exchange of power, highlighting the role of the submissive. Also, is Mr. Desorio here? Ah, yes, you need to come visit me during office hours. We need to discuss your performance. Or rather, lack thereof. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.”
….

“There you go Mr. Desorio. When you stimulate the whole of the network of nerve endings in the skin … you … get … a … better response. Mmm… god. A much better … response. Uuggh.”

He remembered the skin rule. He just preferred when she yelled at him a little bit. As he ran his hands from her face, down her neck, across her always hard nipples (how did they do that?), into the warm, damp crevices between her legs, to her calves, his cock pumped fuller with blood as she trembled under his hands and he remembered the first time she yelled at him.

“Flip me over and touch there too. We’re never going to get to penile vaginal if you can’t get these simple lessons Mr. Desorio.”

“Yes Dr. Granville.”
…

He took a deep breath and stepped into her office.

“Mr. Desorio, we have a problem. You have been late to my past 3 lectures, which is disruptive. You have failed to put any actual thought into any of the assignments that I’ve given. As I mentioned when I took over, there are plenty of people clawing to get into my class who will complete three weeks of assignments to be seated in my lecture.”

“I know … I just … have been having some issues.”

“Mr. Desorio. I’m not convinced by your ‘showing up slightly late everyday, failing assignments, call for help’ strategy. Even if it were pointing to a real problem, I still wouldn’t really care. I only work with those who want to work. People who want to work don’t let their personal lives get in the way, no matter how hard that is. So perhaps you should consider seriously if you should maybe withdraw from my class and let someone deserving take your spot.”

On the one hand, he was stoked that she had noticed him. On the other hand he was in jeopardy both because she had totally called his bluff and because he was starting to get a raging woody. Crap. He could either stand up (well not literally) and hope that taking a stand (again, not literally) would sway her to let him stay in the class. Or, he could grovel.

“Listen, Dr. Granville, you’re right.”

She was surprised, good.

“I haven’t put in the work that I’ve needed to. (…crunch time. Blunt and honest … or grovel. Okay, blunt.) And it’s your fault. You are so incredibly intelligent and your lectures have changed my entire life. And so when I try to write assignments, all I want to write about is you. The assignment on genital self exploration … all I could imagine was you exploring my genitals. The prostate massage assignment we have to do over the weekend? I can’t imagine someone who could teach me any better than you. Maybe if you tutor me I’ll start to do better.”

And then she did something that surprised him. She brought her hand to the clip holding her hair in place and let it down. And she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, so her cute perky tits made the slightest of appearances.

His cock, which had been, up to that point, on the fence in terms of whether to be hard or not, came completely to life. Shit.

And then she walked around the desk and sat on the arm of his chair and brought her mouth close to his ear. Her breath kissed his lobe and he shuddered in anticipation for something he had imagined so many times.

“What you just shared with me is very close to being sexual harassment, were this not a confidential space. To be completely frank, I could care less that you’re having little fantasies of me when you do your homework. You need to get over it, immediately. You want to stay in my class? Do the work and stop making up excuses.”

She then she buttoned her shirt back up and clipped her hair back into place. Not exactly what he was expecting. Damn.

“As if I would risk my career to fuck you. There have been much hotter and much more experienced men who have walked through this office asking me to do the same thing. I have worked too hard and come too far to risk it all hooking up with a student. I expect you’ll be on time next Tuesday. Now get out.”

Shit.

Walking out of that office was potentially the most embarrassing thing he had ever done. And even though he knew he must have hallucinated, he swore that he saw her smile ever so slightly as she realized his predicament.

That Tuesday, she changed the lecture topic to “Erections: Spontaneous, Inspired, and Completely Controllable.”
…

She lay on her stomach, and he thought his penis would explode. He had been taking lessons for six months now, and they had done more sexually then he had ever imagined. When he started taking lessons she promised that with work they would fuck. Without work, no dice.

And he had worked.

“Tell me what you’re going to do next, Mr. Desorio.”
Dirty Talk

“I’m going to run my fucking hungry mouth all over your amazing body. I want to taste every sexy fucking inch of you. I’m going to start with your ears, and wait until you’re squirming with desire for me to move to your shoulders and neck. Just when you can’t hold out any more and your cunt is dripping with anticipation I’m going to move there. But I’m not going to give you as much as you want because you’ve done nothing to deserve it. And … I want to leave you wanting more.”

Submission

“Mr. Desorio, deserve has nothing to do with it. You’ll keep your mouth there until I tell you to move.”

“Yes, Dr. Granville.”

Sexual Multi-Tasking

As his mouth worked her ears then neck then shoulders, he ran his hands through her hair, across her back, down her legs. He started again with his hands on her breasts and moved them slowly down her full, curvy hips, over her fucking amazing ass, and brushed her clit, ever so teasingly.

“Mmm… you’ve been studying.”

Kissing, French Kissing, Etiquette, Hygiene, Trimming, Accessories, Prostate Massage, Self-Touch, Role-Play, Strap-On Play, Role Reversals, Breathing, Sensory Deprivation, Hair-Pulling, Pinning, Sensation Play, Bondage, Discipline, Erotic Pain, Eroticizing Safer Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Mouth Work, Hand Work, Anal Play…

More than he could imagine, but he had worked hard to just be here and he wouldn’t stop working until he got to slide his cock into her cunt. He had been allowed to fill it with his fingers, tongue and a multitude of toys, but the two times that she said he was close; he fucked a small detail up. But, judging by her response, today was the day.

His hard work would finally pay off.
…

After that harrowing meeting, he was determined to not only pass her class, but be her star pupil.

To get her out of his head, he wrote out the fantasies that swirled through his head. With that distraction gone, he actually found that her class had even more impact than if he just attended lectures.

Her class became his success.

Every night was the same. He would sit down at his computer, write about her, and move on to complete whatever homework was due next. The fantasies helped him focus, and actually helped him to excel in other classes.

But still … being her star pupil wasn’t enough. He needed more.

And the final project in the class gave him his window.

“To pass this class, you will need to turn in a project that illustrates the range of what you have learned as a result of this class. The project can be amorphous in terms of medium, but should represent 15 or more hours of work.”

He turned in his fantasies in chronological order (with her name changed, of course) and then did an analysis of how his desires had become more nuanced throughout the duration of the course.

He was pleased with his work until he received an e-mail from her.

“Mr. Desorio.

Based upon your work in my class since our first meeting, we need to discuss your final project … and its shortcomings.

-Dr. Granville”
…

“Beg.”

He must have looked surprised, because he was. This wasn’t something they had gone over. The dirty talk lessons were always on aggressive dirty talk. Shit.

“Please let me eat you out, Dr. Granville?”

“No, Mr. Desorio. That is not begging. Remember the confidence rule.”

He took a deep breath. He couldn’t take this any more. He had been patient, and had not once complained. He flipped her over and straddled her belly so she could both see and feel how his penis was on the verge of blowing up all over her. He held her arms down, so she would have to look at him.

“Dr. Granville. With all due respect, I have been nothing, if not the perfect pupil. I take in everything you say, I follow your lessons to the letter. And I really thought that I would finally get to fuck your brains out tonight. So please just finally submit. It’s fucked up that you would make a man wait this long to fuck a woman who is so incredibly irresistible it takes all his strength not to whip his cock out at every empty moment and masturbate to the thought of everything about you.”

He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered.

“So, please. Dr. Granville. Give my poor dick a break. Let me grab those condoms that have been taunting me for six months, slide one over my cock, tease your beautiful hole with my tip, and slide it into you so slowly so that not only can I feel every millimeter of your amazing vagina closing over my piece, but so that you plead with me to go faster so you can fully experience my girth inside you. So that I can fuck you until you beg me to bang you until your cervix can’t handle being slammed into any more. Until you’re screaming for me to pull out that big fucking thing you call a vibrator on your clit so you can have a body-rocking, sheet-staining, glass breaking, nail dragging orgasm. Because I really don’t think that I can wait any longer.”

“Now that’s begging. Good confidence Mr. Desorio. But … no.”

Fuck.
…

“Mr. Desorio. Your work ever since our talk has been incredible. Some of the best I’ve seen out of a man … ever. And don’t look at me like that, it makes a difference that you’re a man. However, your final was disappointing.”

“I put way more than 15 hours into it though. I think that’s pretty obvious. All you said was that it needed to reflect 15 or more hours of work.”

“Mr. Desorio. You obviously passed this class. Stop your whining please. What I’m disappointed is not the amount of time you put into this. The disappointment is the conclusion that you came to. You said that your sexual desires have become more varied. However, if you actually reviewed the erotica you turned in, you would notice that every single one ends in penile-vaginal intercourse –“

“Not all of them do. The one where --“

“Mr Desorio! Do no interrupt me. Yes there are maybe two of the whole lot that end in penile-anal contact, but the other 100 do not. Why you’re here is because I am disappointed with your conclusion. What you’ve proven is you’re still the intercourse obsessed straight man that you were when you started this class.”

And then she said it.

“Which proves that I didn’t do my job as an instructor. You require further … more hands on … lessons. This is my home address. Get yourself tested, and once you have your results, meet me there every Tuesday and Thursday at 10p. You will be on time, you will be showered, you will have impeccable attendance and you will be ready to work. I will assume that your more than obvious erection is your acceptance. You may go.”

Face beet red, he tucked his erection into his waistband after he turned his back to her. His penis was a rock for the entire 25 minute walk back to his house. When he got home he immediately locked his door, and pulled his pants off. He stroked his cock with a vigorous stroke, imagining her riding him, wetness dripping out of her onto him, her hair wild, his hands caressing her sinuous curves. He came so hard it splashed him on the face and he passed out until his housemate knocked on the door to make sure he was okay.

Explaining the dry cum on his face took some creativity, but was totally worth it.
--

“No? Dr. Granville, my penis is going to explode all over your naked body, and all this built up sexual tension I just created for you will go to waste.”

“Calm down Mr. Desorio. I just mean, no, you won’t be putting the condom on. I’ll be doing the honors. I’ve never seen a penis so rigid, and I want to enjoy it.”

He almost came just from that comment, but held it together.

She stood him up and knelt before him, and placed his cock in her mouth ever so briefly. She wasn’t making it easy, but his eyes had been on the prize for so long, he manned up and kept himself from coming all over her right there.

She slid the condom on, and applied a little lube (to increase condom life, he remembered).

He couldn’t wait any more. He pushed her onto the bed (throwback from his lesson on erotic dominance) and before he put his cock anywhere near her, he kissed her hard on the mouth and whispered,

“You’re going to wish that this had happened so much sooner than now Dr. Granville.”

“Prove it, Mr. Desorio.”

He grabbed her hands and put them above her head and bit her softly on her neck. With one hand holding her wrists in place, he moved his hands to her lips which where moist and swollen with arousal.

Her body shuddered at his touch and he worked his finger over her clitoris. As she tried to get out of his hold he massaged harder, managing to hold her in place and maintain his pin.

He slipped one finger in. Just once. He watched as her hips begged for more.

Oh, he’d give her more.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed the head all over her vulva. Their breath intensified as they both anticipated what was to come.

He pushed the head of his cock into her waiting hole and she gasped in approval. He immediately removed it and went back to biting her neck.

“Mr. Desorio, I recommend you fuck me soon or you’ll be leaving.”

But he knew her game.

“Beg.”

“Ah, I see. Mr. Desorio. From the moment you walked into my office when you were in jeopardy of failing I have imagined crafting you into the perfect tool of sexual gratification. And you have exceeded all expectations I could ever have. You deserve the one thing that you have coveted for so long. Please fuck me so that I can envelop that magnificent cock you’ve been blessed with. I want my lips to wrap around you as you thrust so deeply into me that breathing is difficult and somewhat unnecessary.”

“We should’ve had a lesson on begging. I could’ve learned something.”

He took his cock in one hand and spread her swollen lips and slowly plunged his cock into her wetness. About halfway into her, she clamped her muscles down tight around his cock and it took all his concentration not to bust immediately. Slowly at first and then more vigorously he rammed his cock into her as she moaned and begged for more.

He pulled out her vibrator, and put it on her clit. She was so wet he could hear the wetness moving in time with his thrusts. He worked a nipple with one hand, the vibrator with the other as her hips arched upward toward the stimulation. Her whole body shook as he continued pounding her, and he knew he was going to blow soon.

“Mr. Desorio, I am cumming so hard it’s indescribable. Do … not … stop… ugh … “

As she reached the apex of her climax, he could no longer exercise the control he had up until this point. His moan started as a low groan and turned into a man sized moan to match hers.

He came so hard that he lost muscle control and collapsed on top of her. She grabbed the base of the condom and pulled him out of her. She placed one, gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I think I still prefer when you’re in drag and I’m fucking you like you’re a woman, but this was a very close second, Mr. Desorio. Well done. You pass.”

I’m More Likely To Suck Your Cock If It’s Small

2010-03-04T00:01:00.006-05:00

Every Tuesday, some friends and I rock pub trivia at a local bar. Not only was the title of this blog our team name, but it’s also the inspiration for this post. Based on responses to my last post, I feel that the little guy was not given his due. In a world obsessed with big cock, I want to talk about reasons why having a small – average penis creates some serious advantages. (Note: This post is not intended to make big donged dudes feel bad … but I feel like the world has your back most of the time. So just chill.)

This post is an opinion piece (which means that the things I am writing are not true for everyone). If it changes your mind about small cock, that’s wonderful! If you’re still a size queen at the end, that’s cool too. But what I hope, is even if you’re still personally a size queen, you may give more respect where respect, in my opinion, is due.

This piece is based both on personal experience and stories that folks have shared. I just like you to know where the opinions are coming from!

So let’s talk small cock.

1: “I’m more likely to suck your cock if it’s small.”

Your mouth doesn’t get as tired as quickly as it would with a wide penis. This means that when a dude with a small-average (“S-A” from here on out) penis is getting blown, he can expect longer BJs (if he can hold out, of course).
It is much easier to protect the S-A penis from your teeth. Wide cocks take up lots of space in your mouth. This means there’s always the risk of shucking skin off the surface of a wide cock, or breaking the condom you’ve put on that wide cock. If you decide to protect the wide cock via the cover-your-teeth-with-your-lips route, you risk cutting up the inside of your mouth. So it’s either, cut him up or cut yourself up. When blowing the S-A penis, those concerns may still be there, but they’re not as epic. Because there’s more room inside your mouth, it’s easier to protect dudebro or the inside of your mouth from being maimed. Again, contributing to longer, more willing BJs.
And although this can happen with the S-A cock, with a wide cock, drool … gets … everywhere. Whether you want it to or not. At least with the S-A cock, you’ve got a bit more choice in the matter.
A long cock, when put into the mouth as far as it will go, will always hit the epiglottis, which then triggers the gag reflex, which then leaves the person giving head fighting not to vomit all over said penis. Truth be told, some people can control that reflex, but many can’t. With the S-A penis it is more likely that dudebro will be able to get his penis balls deep into the givers mouth (which as I understand it, feels pretty amazing).

2. Speaking of balls deep, let’s talk penetration.

The S-A penis saves the ladies from a cervix pummeling. Now, some ladies are totally into having their cervix repeatedly slammed into during penetration. For some, however, this can be extremely painful, and results in her pushing his hips back so he can’t penetrate as deeply, results in him needing to hold back on the power of his thrusts, and can even mean that certain positions are no longer on the list of things those people can do. So even though I know there are some positions that S-A penis owners can’t rock because their penises aren’t long enough … having a long penis can also take positions off the list. And, speaking of balls deep, it is more likely that in any position, a dude with the S-A penis can rock hard, powerful, balls deep thrusts without causing discomfort for their lady friend. (And PS S-A penis owners … rear entry and woman on top are going to be your two money positions. Just as a heads up.)
If you’re going for endurance sex, the wide penis can literally become a pain in the ass (or vagina). After a while, fucking a wide penis can result in skin literally being frictioned off the sides of the vaginal or rectal walls, which is painful. Long penetration sessions become difficult or impossible. With the S-A penis, this friction issue is decreased, which means that if you’re in it to win it with a long, endurance style penetration session … the end is less likely to result because of pain.
Anal sex is easier with the S-A penis. The wide penis is more likely to cause tearing (especially if anal play isn’t being done correctly), and may also simply just not fit (that goes for some vaginas too, for that matter).

3. Condoms

With the S-A penis, your average condom fits. Try to put an average condom on a dude with a wide penis, and you’re going to see that lovely boner deflate because the condom is too tight. Also, the average condom may not be long enough to fit over longer penises, and that patch of skin that isn’t covered … isn’t protected from STIs. So the S-A penis has the advantage in being more easily protected by the average size condom.
Because places that give out free condoms generally have average sized condoms in stock (although if you ask, they sometimes have wide condoms as well), it is more likely that the free condom user will have something that fits the S-A penis.
(NOTE: Condoms are not one size fits all. A large or wide condom will fall off a smaller penis ... just so you know.)

4. Dudes with S-A penises know they can’t just rely on thrusting to be considered good lovers.

Anyone can be good at penetrating … but it takes skill and hard work to be good at everything else. Because dudes with S-A penises can’t rely on penetration alone, they have often or will often put in the hard work to gain the skills to be good at everything else. Which can be a beautiful thing. For some, the best sexual experiences are those where everything leading up to the penetration was so amazing, that by the time penetration happens, it’s only a small piece of the experience. Dudes with S-A penises tend to be better equipped for this fact.
Specifically when talking about ladies, the extra savvy that the S-A penis owner works to his advantage in two ways. The first is that it takes ladies some time before they’re ready for penetration, and if dudebro knows how to throw down in activities that aren’t penetration, he’s more likely to get there anyway. The other way is that, all a woman’s most sensitive parts are in her vulva (don’t know what a vulva is? Click here to find out). In terms of a woman’s orgasmic potential, penetration usually isn’t the path to her big ‘O’ anyway, and so dudebro packing the S-A penis will probably be more likely to help his lady cum.

5. S-A Cock may also mean S-A Balls

And that may mean an easier time of popping S-A balls in one's mouth simultaneously.

So, the next time you bad mouth a small-average penis … think about what it might be like if you put it in your mouth instead.

Keep Thinking!

-Becca

PENIS!

2010-03-01T00:02:00.001-05:00

Cock, Dick, Schlong, Trouser Snake, Chode, Johnson, Weiner, Shaft, Ding-A-Ling … PENIS!

1. So … I’ve heard Penises called “Boners” when they’re hard … but I don’t have a bone in my penis (last I checked)….
Very true. Unless you happen to be a walrus, there aren’t any bones in the penis. And, even though you sometimes hear the penis called the “Love Muscle” it also isn’t a muscle. So … no bones, no muscles … how does it get hard?

Simple! The penis is made up of erectile tissue. When a dude gets turned on, his penis fills up with blood and it feels rigid to the touch.

Fun Fact: When a dude gets a boner, the blood flows in through the center of the penis, and out through the sides. Cock rings work with this principle. You strap the cock ring on (either in front of or behind the balls), and while it doesn’t stop more blood from going in, it does slow down the blood trying to get out. Which means that the penis wearing the cock ring will feel larger and firmer, and will be more sensitive while the ring is on. Make sure, however, if you’re going to use a cock ring, that in the beginning you only wear it for 5 minutes, and then as you get more experienced, feel free to use it for up to 20 minutes. I wouldn’t recommend wearing it for longer than 20 though … as that could cause bruising and damage to the penis. You can wear a cock ring on a soft penis as long as you want.

2. Okay, so can you tell how big a hard penis is going to be by what it looks like when it’s soft?
Not really. Because erectile tissue is so flexible, a dude with a tiny flaccid penis could have a sizable hard penis. And a dude with a pretty big flaccid penis may not experience all that much growth when he gets hard. I’ve heard this phenomenon referred to as Show-ers vs Grow-ers.

A Show-er is a dude whose flaccid penis isn’t that much smaller than the size of his boner. It’s a ‘what you see is almost what you get’ kind of deal.

Now, grow-ers are dudes where their flaccid penises are much smaller than the size of their boners. This is ‘what you see isn’t even close to what you get’ kind of deal.

So what this means is when you’re checking out other dudes’ junk in the locker room, there is no way to know what dudebro’s penis looks like when it’s hard. If he’s 2 inches flaccid, he could be a show-er and have a 3 inch boner … or he could be a grower and have up to a 10 inch boner. One rule that does hold true is that a dudes boner will be larger than his soft penis … there’s just no real way to know how much larger without seeing him hard (or asking him and trusting he’s telling the truth).

3. So, bigger IS better, right?
Just like with everything out there … there are pros and cons to everything. So here are some pros and cons depending upon penis size.

Pros of A Long Penis

The outer ring of the vagina and anus respond really well to motion. The longer the penis, the more motion you can get in a single stroke.
There’s a guarantee that penetration will occur in most penetrative positions.
Visually, some folks find a longer penis more stimulating.

Cons of a Long Penis

If the penis is too long, it may be too long to fit into some people’s bodies, and can even be painful for the receiving partner.
The longer the penis, the more blood it takes to make it hard, so it may be harder for a lengthy penis to become fully hard.
Standard sized condoms may not roll all the way to the bottom of the shaft.

Pros of a Wide Penis

The tissues inside the vagina and rectum respond well to pressure and fullness. The wider the penis, the more pressure and fullness will be felt.
Visually, some folks find wider penises more stimulating.

Cons of a Wide Penis

If it’s too wide, it might not fit into certain bodies.
Standard condoms may feel too tight (you can totally get wider condoms if this is an issue, however).

Also, something you should keep in mind is that the average vagina length is 4-6 inches and the average rectum length is 6-8 inches. Which is why the average penis length is 5-6 inches. Nature has a funny way of making sense, sometimes.

AND, just so you know, there is way more to sex than just putting a penis inside of something. So regardless of whether you’re hung like a gorilla (1 inch penis) or like a blue whale (12 foot penis), just remember that penis size only matters if that’s the only thing you know how to use. If you get your tongue, hands, and most importantly, brains involved ... you’ll find that penis size isn’t a dealbreaker.

Unless of course you’re hung like a kangaroo, in which case you have a forked penis … and you may not find too many humans able to work with that.

4. Okay, so regardless of what my penis size is … what does a normal penis look like?
Well, all you need is a head, a shaft, and possibly foreskin. It’s normal for heads to be different colors than shafts, or for skin to gradually change color along the shaft. It’s normal for foreskin to pull all the way back when you’re hard, or for it to still cover part of the head. It’s normal for penises to have curvature. Although most penises with curves curve to the left, some will curve to the right, will curve upward, some downward. It may also point straight as an arrow. Heads can be wider than, the same size as, or smaller than the shaft. All penises have a seam running along the underside, some people’s seams will be different colors than their penis, and some dudes will have raised seams you can feel. Some dudes will have really loose penis skin when they're hard and some dudes' penis skin will be really tight. Also, some people will have little bumps along the head, and that’s chill too so long as they’ve always been there.

Basically, just like the ladies in my post on vulvas, so long as you’re not rocking warts, sores or lesions, you’re penis is a-ok!

Important Note: So, although slight curvature is normal, if you’re experiencing curvature that’s so severe your erections are painful, you may have something called Peyronie’s Disease. Although treatments for this disease are currently limited, it looks like there are options for helping to reduce pain caused by the curvature. Hit up your local urologist, they should be able to help.

5. Foreskin? What is this foreskin you’re talking about?
Foreskin is the skin that all male-bodied babies are born with. And, although foreskin gets a bad rap in this country, it has a purpose. Here’s a metaphor to explain the purpose.

So, just like a bike helmet, the foreskin is there to protect your head. Every day as your penis is chillin’, it gets into microscopic bike accidents (like when it’s rubbing around in your undies, for example). Fellas without foreskin are like bicyclists without helmets. When that bike accident happens, and their head hits the pavement, damage gets done. For a bicyclist that may mean a cracked skull, for a penis it means dead nerve endings. So, a penis without foreskin loses nerve endings every day. Just like a bicyclist who wears a helmet, folks with foreskin don’t undergo the same trauma. They may get in those accidents, but their foreskin helmet protects their head from damage.

Okay … so what does this convoluted bike helmet metaphor mean in real life?

Nerve endings are the things in your body that transmit feelings. So when the head of your penis is in someone’s mouth (hot, right?) it’s the nerve endings that are telling you how amazing it feels. A dude without a foreskin, because of the lack of protection, has less nerve endings than a dude with a foreskin. Sexually speaking, a dude with foreskin has more sexual sensitivity.

6. So .. then WTF, why get rid of the foreskin at all?
In the US it’s usually one of two reasons: religion or tradition.

It’s a part of Jewish faith for boys to be circumcised. So, if you’re a Jewish boy, that’s why your penis is circumcised.

The other is tradition. Daddy’s penis is circumcised, and daddy’s daddy’s penis is circumcised, so junior’s penis is going to be circumcised as well. (We wouldn’t want him to get confused while daddy is teaching him to go pee pee, now would we?)

Really, there is no solid medical reason to remove the foreskin. Back in the 1950s, during the hygiene movement, people used to think removing the foreskin was necessary for cleanliness, but the reality is cleaning is necessary for cleanliness. So, since we are all (hopefully) washing our penises nowadays, there isn’t much of difference in terms of hygiene. All you fellas with foreskin need to remember to do is pull that foreskin back and clean underneath to avoid smegma buildup.

7. Okay, so I know size doesn’t matter, but I still want a bigger penis, what can I do?
First of all, don’t respond to those ads that you randomly get in your e-mail inboxes.

Phalloplasties are available, which can increase length, girth or both. What you do to your body is totally your choice, so here are some things to keep in mind when considering a phalloplasty.
Just like vulvaplasties, these surgeries are cosmetic, which means they will not be covered by insurance.
There are surgeries available that make you look bigger when flaccid, and some that make you bigger when hard. Make sure that you are getting the procedure that best fits your needs.
Ensure you go to an experienced doctor with references. Because you’re working with a functional part of your body, you want to ensure that not only will you be able to maintain erections afterward, but that you’ll still be able to pee after the surgery.
As with any cosmetic surgery, your penis may not come out the way that you wanted it, you may be left with irreversible nerve damage, there may be scarring, or you may experience loss of sensation. As these are risks, it’s also entirely possible none of these things will occur.
Getting a phalloplasty should be a decision you are making for you. If you are only doing it because it’s something your partner wants, I encourage you to think very long and hard about a) your partner choice and b) whether the risks are worth it for something that you’re not doing for you.

8. What about these Viagra, Cialis, deals. I know they help people get it up, but some also say they make my penis larger, is that true?
Sort of. What meds like Viagra and Cialis do is open up the blood vessels in your body to create greater blood flow. So, in terms of helping people get hard, they open the passageways for blood to get into the penis. However, like I also mentioned earlier, the more blood that gets into the penis, the harder and larger the penis may appear. So, it’s a marketing half-truth. Your penis will fill up with more blood, making it look and feel bigger, but it’s not actually going to enlarge past its natural size.

Also, if you’re a healthy dude who doesn’t have issues getting boners, I don’t recommend taking drugs like Viagra and Cialis. Only because if you end up getting a boner for longer than 4 hours, they have to deflate your penis by removing blood with a needle. Not fun, I imagine.

9. No Viagra unless I need it. Check. So, why is it sometimes hard to get hard?
Well, there are lots of things that can stop people from getting it up. Here’s quick list of things that can stand in the way of your little soldier standing at attention:

Getting Older
Certain Medications
Inactivity
Smoking
Distractions
Depression
Certain Diseases (i.e. diabetes, kidney disease, vascular disease)
Stress

Some of these are easier to avoid than others. If having erections into older age is something that you hope to enjoy, I personally recommend eating well, exercising, and not smoking. Keeping up your fitness helps to keep your lil’ man up too.

Something else you should know about boners is that they do naturally get soft, even during arousal. So, if you’re all hot and turned on and you were hard a minute ago, but now your penis didn’t seem to get the memo, that’s normal. Just hang out with your partner(s) and if you’re in good health, your penis will get back with the program whenever it’s ready.

10. Anything else I should know about my Penis?
Yup! So another cool thing about your penis is there’s more to stimulate than meets the eye. If you were to completely remove your balls (metaphorically speaking, of course), your penis actually extends another few inches or so into your body. So you know area in between your balls and your anus (also known as the taint, the gootch, the grundle or the perineum)? If you or a partner stimulates that part of your body, that’s actually the root of your penis. So there’s more of your penis that can be played with!

Also, in terms of pube maintenance, which is something that dudes have to consider as well, I will refer you to my post on vulvas, scroll to point 3. Another pro for pube maintenance for the fellas is that there will be less worry of pubes getting yanked out as head is happening.

PENIS!

-Becca

You’re Just a Tool, Tool Academy

2010-02-25T00:02:00.001-05:00

I don’t know how many of you have seen that show ‘Tool Academy’ on VH1, but I analyzed the 1st season for a paper. If you want the original academic work, hit me up.

Original Title:
Hegemonic Masculinity in VH1’s Tool Academy

Translated Title:
You’re Just a Tool, Tool Academy

So … the dudebro. His whole entire identity is about doing whatever he can to not be a lady. To prove that he isn’t, the dudebro is only allowed to do things like spend money, compete with other dudebros, only show emotion when he’s pissed, and to treat the ladies like they’re his bitches. While competing for hella money, VH1’s Tool Academy is based on the premise that girlfriends bring their dudebros – the tools – to a place where they can unlearn their toolhood and be better boyfriends. To get the dudebros to actually want to do this, Tool Academy gives them some therapy, pairs them up in competition with their GFs, dangles a $100,000 cash prize in front of them, AND threatens to kick them out of the house. In terms of de-tooling the tools, some of these strategies work, but most just reinforce dudebro behavior.

Check it.

The $100,000 Cash Prize

Although this cash prize situation is supposed to motivate the fellas to become non-douchetools, it usually results in tool-like behavior. For example, when they open up the series, the host Jordan announces that the dudes have been enrolled in an academy so they can become better boyrfriends and men.

And how do the tools react? Complete silence. I’m talking crickets.

Then he says that if they do well, they’ll be rewarded with a $100,000 cash prize.

Every person, down to the very last tool goes crazy and starts cheering.

So basically, because things like ‘being a good boyfriend’ and ‘being responsible’ aren’t considered manly, these dudebros don’t react. But because as a dudebro it’s cool to be stoked about money, it’s okay to cheer and get excited when they hear about all the money they can win.

Now, aside from having to define oneself in opposition to the ladies, the dudebro is actually secretly insecure that other dudebros won’t find him masculine enough. The dudebro constantly has to prove his manhood over and over by trying to dominate all the other dudes he’s around. The $100,000 cash prize makes these displays a constant throughout the show.

Shawn (aka Loud Mouth Tool) provides the best examples of this type behavior. He knows that M.E.G.A. is his biggest competition and so is constantly physically attacking him and provoking him in the tool academy dorms. He even admits that he’s going to pick at the flaws in everyone’s relationships until he wins. Instead of figuring out why the hell he’s so insecure about losing, he just tries to bring everyone else down, which, as explained above is classic dudebro behavior.

Trina, the therapist who has the final say in who wins or loses, initially punishes the dudebro for this kind of toolish behavior by putting perpetrators of violence and provocations in the bottom two during elimination rounds.

However, she ultimately rewards two of the biggest tools in the house, Shawn and Matsuflex, (even though they’re always acting like d-bags) because they eventually make it to the final 3.

This cash prize, then, only makes the tools bust out dudebro behavior, rather than encouraging them to push that shit aside.

The Small Competitions With The Ladies

So in Therapy, the tools are taught lessons on how to be good boyfriends. In the small competitions, the tools have to work together with their girlfriend to show that they’ve really learned the lesson. Even though it’s a competition – which is a usually manly thing – winning the competition often means embracing actions that are usually associated with being feminine. To win, the tool needs to man-up and embrace his feminine side. Failure to do so results in punishment.

For example, in a communication competition where the tools’ had to read directions on building a bed to their girlfriends, Tommy (aka slacker tool) gets frustrated and instead of being patient and chatting it out (stuff only girls do, duh), he throws an armchair and kicks a cooler. Because he decided to act like a dudebro instead of manning up and communicating, Trina puts him in the bottom two during the elimination round.

On the flip side of this, being able to let go of one’s inner dudebro often resulted both in rewards and wining competitions. In one competition where tools and their ladies, while attached to each other, raced to see who could paint a fence first, two tools tried two different strategies. Matsuflex literally dragged his lady around, physically dominating her, and didn’t listen to her ideas. Josh (aka Tiny Tool), employs a strategy where he and his lady work together, and he even uses some of her ideas to complete the task. Tiny Tool, by being man enough to treat his lady like an equal, wins the small competition AND ends up being the first “graduate” of the Tool Academy. Matsuflex’s inability to shed his inner dudebro led to losing not only the fence painting competition, but also the greater competition.

Pairing the fellas up with their girlfriends in competitions actually challenge the tools to see that there are advantages in the dropping the dudebro act.

The Therapy Sessions

Up until this point, we’ve talked about how Tool Academy motivates the men to change in the masculine arena of competition. Therapy, however, is a space where the men have to change in a feminine battlefield. It’s here where the tools in the academy really drop all of their dudebro posturing. Not only do they stop being dicks to one another, but they admit their insecurities, they share their feelings and they even cry (no shit, son). It’s by waging an emotional war on a feminine battlefield that the audience is shown that even though the tools act like d-bags, they have really strong emotions just like ladies. When they drop their dudebro pretences, Trina rewards them for their strength.

Therapy, then becomes a space where the tool mentality seems as though it may actually change. In an interview with Rob (aka Power Tool), we come to find that dropping the dudebro ethic is actually valuable in helping the tools to change their mind about constantly performing their gender like dudebros. During one of the therapy sessions, Rob breaks down and cries. He later admits in his interview that even though he’s never cried in front of people like that, it made him feel less crazy and less alone. Through admitting this, Rob shows that #1, dudes totally cry, and #2 when dudes cry and talk and work shit out, they may not look like dudebros, but it makes them feel better.

Therapy is perhaps, of all the strategies used by tool academy, the most effective in helping the tools shake off the need to dudebro it up.

The Elimination Round

So, each week, a Tool is expelled from Tool Academy when Trina decides that he just isn’t man enough to be a good man. When he’s expelled, he’s got one chance to try to get his girlfriend to leave with him instead of without him.

One, and only one, dude upon getting expelled drops his dudebro pretense to try to convince his girl to stay with him. Almost every other dude expelled from the academy reverts back to defending himself by putting up a tough alpha male front. Shawn and Celebrity’s expulsions are really good examples of this.

When Shawn is tossed out of the Academy, he responds by puffing up his chest and going back to the dudebro need to constantly prove how masculine he is. As he’s leaving one of the other tools talks a little shit, and instead of being the bigger man, Shawn runs back into the house, threatens the offending tool, and THEN claims that he’s going go so postal on the dude that the producers are going to need the National Guard to hold him back. Needing to prove that he is a bigger man through anger and a puffed up display are all classic dudebro moves.

Celebrity (aka Party Tool) starts booty poppin’ and asking the other tools’ girlfriends for phone numbers. Not only does Celebrity revert to the dudebro behavior where he tries to make women his bitches, but because he is also one of the (few) black men on the show, he also falls into a stereotype of black dudebro-ness based on being important only through things like performance and being super sexual.

The elimination round, because it takes the tools power away, creates a defensive tool whose only ability to fight back is by reverting back to dudebro behavior.

The Conclusion

When the tools are dismissed, Jordan, the host says “I’m sorry, you’re just a tool.”

On the basis of effectively changing dudebros into good dudes, this author has to say “I’m sorry Tool Academy, you’re just a tool.” (I.e. this shit doesn’t work).

The reason why Tool Academy doesn’t work (aside from the fact that it’s reality TV and that they boozed those tools up constantly) is because adding competition for money and fear of elimination makes everything the tools do in therapy and small competitions a part of a strategy to win, rather than to really be better boyfriends.

If VH1’s Tool Academy really wants to start turning dudebros into good dudes, they’ll need to get rid of the cash prize AND get rid of the eliminations.

That's it!

-Becca

Vulvas Aren’t Vaginas

2010-02-22T00:26:00.006-05:00

This post is full of Vulvatastic information! Enjoy!

1. What’s a Vulva anyway?
So, I want you to imagine that there is a woman. She’s completely naked and she’s sitting on a stool with her legs crossed. Then (because she obviously wants to educate you) she spreads her legs wide open, points to her crotch and says, “This is NOT a vagina.” You’re like, “WTF is this then?” And she goes, “This is my vulva.”

In this culture, we often use the words Vulva and Vagina interchangeably, when the reality is they are not the same thing. When that naked woman spreads her legs apart, all that ‘stuff’ on the outside is a vulva. It’s where most genitally focused pleasure receiving nerve endings are located (thanks, in part, to the 8,000 nerve endings in the clitoris), and it is OUTSIDE the body. The Vulva is NOT the vagina, because the vagina is inside the body. If we go back to our imaginary naked woman who was nice enough to consent to educate us … all you can really see of the vagina is the entrance.

Although not all sex educators agree, nor practice, calling the vulva and the vagina by the different names, this sex educator (imagine me pointing at myself with my thumbs) thinks it’s extremely important to differentiate. Mostly because a) it’s scientifically accurate to utilize the terminology separately and b) when we talk about the vulva specifically, we bring more attention to female pleasure than we do when we simply reduce everything to a vagina.

2. Why are vulvas hairy?
Excellent question. Pubic hair, aside from keeping our genitals nice and warm back before the days of clothing, actually does serve a function, and that function has to do with pheromones.

Pheromones, in case you’re unclear as to what they are, are chemicals that our bodies release that affect other people without having to get processed first. If you look at someone and think they’re hot, your brain processes the image and then decides whether it wants to send a message to another part of your brain that makes you get turned on. Sex pheromones shortcut that system and go straight to the part of your brain that controls arousal. To oversimplify: you could be looking at someone you don’t find particularly attractive and they could still turn you on because of their pheromones.

Pubic hair, in a neat evolutionary trick, traps pheromones as they get released. The pheromones are then chillin’ in high concentrations. The high concentration of all these sexy pheromones has a more intense effect on your partner(s) brain.

In short, pubes are there to help people get turned on faster.

3. Should I shave/wax/trim/laser/otherwise remove hair from my vulva?
The answer that question is: that’s entirely up to you. Regardless of what you see in porn or on other ladies in the lockeroom, how you maintain your bush should be entirely about you. There are advantages to each side, some of which I’ve listed below:

In Support of Pube Maintenance

No pubes = no toilet paper stuck in said pubes.
Although pheromones won’t be trapped, bacteria and other smells also won’t be trapped.
If you’re not going for the fully bald look, you can shave or trim fun shapes into your pubes.
For some, less pubes = more erotic sensitivity.
Landscaping can be an activity for you and your partner(s) to do together.
Less pubes means that you can see more of the vulva.

In Support of Leaving Things Natural Style

It is a no effort, accessory free way to be.
Those pheromones have a nice, lush place to collect.
You never have to worry about things like razor burn, accidental cuts, or having wax strips yanked off your body.
For some, pubic hair provides an important cushion for the pushin’, and helps folks to avoid chafing and friction burn.
As (crazily enough) hair is in a constant state of re-growth, you don’t have to do continuous maintenance.
Your vulva looks like it’s gone through puberty.

At the end of the day … what you decide should be all about you. It should be about what makes you feel comfortable, sexy and beautiful. What you do with your pubes is completely up to you!

4. What is a normal vulva supposed to look like?
Okay. Here’s what you do. Find a mirror, strip down nekked, open your legs up, and look at your vulva. THAT, my friend, is what a normal vulva is supposed to look like.

So, I know you’re thinking “But, Becca, hold up. How can you say my vulva is normal when you’ve never even seen it?”

I know because Vulvas are like faces. Everyone has a different face, and pretty much every face is normal, even though they may not look alike. It's the same deal with vulvas, except the basics (noses, eyes, ears, etc) are a little different. Vulva basics include two sets of labia (one set with hair, one set without hair), a clitoris, a urethra (which you may not be able to see), and a vaginal opening. It’s normal for your smooth labia to be longer OR shorter than your hairy labia. AND it’s normal for your right set of labia to be a different size and shape than your left set of labia. Also, even though I know that every textbook ever printed shows that vulvas are pink, let me tell you, vulvas come in all kinds of different colors. AND it’s normal for different parts of your vulva to be different colors. Also, if you’re trans or intersex with a vulva, a normal vulva may have all these attributes, or it may not.

Basically, the only things that should have you worried are warts, sores or lesions. Anything else is super chill and super normal.

5. How do I take care of my vulva?
So, washing your vulva regularly is a good first step in taking care of it.

Another good step? Looking at, touching, and getting to know your vulva. See, unlike dudes, a lady could go pretty much her whole life without ever taking a look at her vulva. Which, if that’s how you’d prefer to roll, is cool with me. However, touching, looking at and knowing your vulva is important in knowing when something may be wrong with it. If you don’t know what your vulva looks like normally, it may be difficult to figure out when something has changed, or when something isn’t quite right. Looking at and touching your vulva may seem weird at first, but just think about how many times a day dudes touch their penises. It’s just as okay for a dude to touch his penis as it is for you to touch your vulva (at the appropriate time and place, of course). Just like breast self exams, you can do a vulva self-exam every month. Although vulvar cancer is relatively rare, it still does happen. So when you’re checking out the vulva, make sure you squeeze the labia to see if there are any lumps.

Plus, another bonus of looking at your vulva is that you’ll (hopefully) increase your comfort with the way your vulva looks. You may even come to think that your vulva is the prettiest vulva ever!

Another good way to take care of your vulva is to sex it up (either alone or with a partner). Just like in other parts of the body, increased blood flow means a delivery of fresh oxygen to your tissues. The more fresh oxygen your tissues get, the healthier your tissues are. Getting turned on, playing with your own vulva, having someone else play with your vulva, and non-sexual exercising are all ways that you can get that fresh blood pumping to your vulva. (Of course, if you’re having someone else play with your vulva, make sure you’re doing so in a way that is conscious of safer sex practices).

6. Can you get surgery on your vulva?
Yes. It’s called vulvaplasty’ and it’s a cosmetic type of surgery. (Although, if you’re having issues where because of the length of your labia you’re experiencing discomfort, getting vulvaplasty is kind of like getting a breast reduction because your breasts are so big your back hurts. In that case, the surgery would be non cosmetic.) People seek out cosmetic surgery all over the body for many different reasons, but when it comes specifically to vulvaplasty, here are some things I feel you should keep in mind:

Because it’s usually for cosmetic purposes, insurance won’t cover the cost, which can be in the thousands.
Make sure that the surgeon you get to do the procedure has a good track record. Some surgeons who offer vulvaplasty are just butchers. You’re looking for a reconstruction, not a mutilation, so choose your practitioner wisely. A good way to figure out if they do good work is to ask if they have before and after photos of surgeries they’ve performed.
Get ready for a period of recovery where you won’t be able to use your vulva in a sexual way.
Have an idea of what you’d like done to your vulva, and work with a practitioner that listens to what you want (not one that pushes his/her ideals of what a ‘perfect’ vulva should look like).
As with all cosmetic surgery, there is a risk that your vulva may not come out the way you wanted it, you may be left with irreversible nerve damage, there may be scarring, and there may be loss of sensation. Keep in mind that these are risks. It’s also possible none of these things will occur.
Getting a vulvaplasty should be something you decide for yourself. If you are only doing it because it’s something your partner wants, I encourage you to think very long and hard about a) your partner choice and b) whether the risks are worth it for something that you’re not doing for you.

7. What happens to my vulva when I get turned on?
When a vulva gets aroused, it’s going to fill up with blood. The smooth labia are going to experience the most swelling from that increased blood flow, and can increase in size up to 3 times. Also, your clit is going to get hard. The cool thing about this increased blood flow is that it means your vulva is going to get way more sexually sensitive! Holler.

8. Wait, after reading this, shouldn’t the Vagina Monologues be called the Vulva Monologues?
Many of the monologues in that play should DEFINITELY be characterized as vulva monologues. But I can’t blame Eve Ensler for using ‘vagina’ as it is more widely recognizable.

Yay for vulvas! I hope, as always, that you’ve learned something!

-Becca

Stuff Becca Didn't Know About the History of HIV

2010-02-18T00:22:00.002-05:00

So, having been in the Sex Ed field for hella years, I was all like “I know hella about HIV/AIDS.” Well, turns out I knew hella about how HIV spreads and how to prevent getting HIV … but in terms of the history, my knowledge was patchy.

David M. Hall, my professor, did a lecture on the history of HIV today, and because I’m all about getting the information out to the people, I’m going to break down some of the stuff I already knew … and then tell you the shit that I learned.

But no doubt, this is all summarized from his lecture. Gotta give props where the props are due.

What I Did Know
HIV was originally transmitted to humans living of off Chimp meat.

What I Didn’t Know
The reason why folks in Africa were living off chimp meat was because they were fleeing into the jungle for freedom from European colonialists who were making entire villages become laborers in the 1930s. The Europeans wanted resources and would ask men in the village to labor for them. The men would say no. The Europeans would then kidnap children and ask again. When people said no, they’d kill a child and say they’d keep killing until the men worked for them. So the men did. When other villages heard about this, their choice was either to work as a forced laborer (read: slave) or flee into the jungles and survive off of chimp meat.

What I Did Know
Most of the cases of HIV/AIDS in the world are in Sub-Saharan Africa because that’s where the Virus began its spread.

What I Didn’t Know
Is the reason why HIV started to spread so widely, was when these villagers who had fled were caught, they were put into the forced labor groups. The European colonizers then protected their (slave) labor force from illness through injections. But guess what, they often used one needle to vaccinate hundreds, sometimes thousands, of people. (Apparently, one French vaccination used 6 syringes to vaccinate 80,000 people. WTF, right?) Sharing needles, as we know, spreads HIV.

This fact, alongside the fact that when you put hella dudes together in a forced labor situation, sex workers are going to capitalize. These newly infected dudes would have sex with sex workers, and the cycle of infection would continue.

What I Did Know
When HIV/AIDS came to the states, it started off primarily with gay men.

What I Didn’t Know
That this happened by way of Haiti. Haitians would work in the Congo, where HIV was prevalent, and then roll back to Haiti. Gay Men, who, in the 1950s were discriminated against, couldn’t just be in public and have a good time and be open. So, the rich ones would go to Haiti so they could be openly them. Haiti needed the money and so didn’t care that gay folks would party there. While in Haiti, HIV spread to these gay men, and when they returned to the states, HIV returned with some of them.

What I Also Didn’t Know
Because of discrimination, some gay men in the 1950s were only hired in jobs that were traditionally considered jobs for women. One of those jobs: flight attendants. So, when gay men would fly across the country, they’d have sex with folks in the cities they were visiting, and the virus would also spread that way.

What I Did Know
Some people contracted HIV through blood transfusions back in the day.

What I Didn’t Know
Although the Blood Bank people knew they were potentially infecting people with HIV, they didn’t want to spend money on testing their whole blood supply. After hearing about the possibility, they waited 2 years before they started screening blood. At which point 35,000 Americans and half of all hemophiliacs had been infected with the Virus.

What I Did Know
Ronald Reagan was a conservative president.

What I Didn’t Know
Was that even though in the beginning the CDC thought that HIV only affected gay men … when the Regan administration sent scientists to the Congo to check things out they said, “Uh, hey President Reagan, looks like HIV can be spread to hetero people too.” To which he responded, “No way, brah. I don’t believe you. Find another explanation.” It took him 4 years into the epidemic to say anything to the public about the virus at all, and it was only because privileged non-gay people started to get diagnosed in the country (hemophiliacs, to be specific).

What I Did Know
HIV meds can be way expensive.

What I Didn’t Know
Is that original treatment for HIV (AZT) was discovered on the public dime in the public domain. The patent on the drugs was sold to a pharmaceutical company, and that pharmaceutical company then jacked up the price to $10,000 a year … in the 1980s. (Read: Hella money, fool).

What I Did (Kind Of) Know
The Bush administration rocked a good deal of funding to HIV/AIDS prevention.

What I Didn’t Know
Was that all that happened because Bono convinced Jesse Helms (super conservative dude who blamed HIV on gay people, called it a punishment, etc.) to stop blocking legislation that would help out with HIV/AIDS prevention.

What I Did Know
HIV/AIDS is projected to affect almost 40 Million people worldwide, and about 1 Million people in the United States.

What I Didn’t Know
Is that through a combination of colonialism forcing people into slavery, unsavory medical practices, homophobia, and conservative administrations, HIV has become WAY more of an epidemic than it ever needed to be.

If the European colonizers had never forced Africans into laboring for resources … villagers wouldn’t have been chased into the jungle in order to avoid become slaves. HIV, although it may have spread to a few people, would never have proliferated.

But, what if colonialism and forced labor were inevitable? Had they not vaccinated hundreds to thousands of people with the same needles … HIV never would have spread as widely as it did.

In the US, had gay men’s sexuality just been accepted, they would never have had to turn to another public space to just be themselves, nor would they have been pigeonholed into certain jobs. Had we been accepting of a diversity of sexualities, HIV may not have become an epidemic in the states.

Homophobia also resulted in HIV not being linked to hetero people until 4 years into the epidemic. Because the CDC originally attached HIV to gay identity, when they saw hetero people with the same symptoms … they refused to link them. Had the CDC not been homophobic in the 80s, prevention could have started sooner.

Had Jesse Helms not blocked funding, more could have been done sooner as well.

Becca’s Conclusion

When we blame the HIV epidemic on a certain demographic, or when we reduce the beginning of HIV to sex with monkeys … we’re missing the whole point.

Disregard for the humanity of others caused this epidemic, and hate and intolerance helped it to spread.

-Becca

Tears Of Hope

2010-02-15T00:38:00.001-05:00

This is an Erotica throwback I was inspired to write after reading Octavia Butler's "Parable" Series. I highly recommend both this erotica and Butler's books. Enjoy!

-Becca

They were both filthy. Disgusting, actually. They had been walking together for weeks. They hadn’t yet exchanged any words for fear that they would set off the alarms and be brought back. They were waiting for the border. The moment they crossed, they would be free.

They didn’t speak, but had found other ways to communicate. Crude gesticulations and eye contact. They stopped only to sleep, piss, and eat. They were never asleep at the same time during the night. It wasn’t safe to leave themselves so vulnerable. Exhausted though they were, they split the night, her always taking the first watch, him the second. She would sometimes wake in the morning to find him staring at her, a longing in his eyes.

At first, she didn’t know what the longing was. Perhaps it was to know her name, her story, how she had escaped, how she had made it as far as she had on her own. She knew, at first, that’s what she desired of him. During the day, during those moments that necessitated eye contact, she knew he could read that desire in her eyes. She wondered endlessly, but knew that to speak was to endanger both herself and this travel partner she had both come to trust and who she assumed had also entrusted her with his life.

But as they had traveled together, she knew that the longing she saw in his eyes in the morning was not the longing she felt during the day. Rather, it was the same need she felt when she stared at him as he slept. Watching the curves of his body as his lithe form expanded and contracted with breath. Imagining the way his body always moved with purpose, the way his aching muscles kept moving forward toward freedom … toward hope. The way the exhaustion of the journey, while never gone, released a bit as he slept. She was grateful that he slept during these moments. Had he seen that she reciprocated his desire, they would be done for.

They walked in silence, matching step for step, the rhythm and pace they had developed in perfect sync. In the beginning, he had some type of wound on his ankle. She couldn’t tell what had caused it, and couldn’t ask. But something about him made her want to stay with him. In the beginning, she questioned her decision constantly, worried that at some point he would attack her. But he never did. And while he slowed their pace in the beginning, his wound eventually healed and his silent, stoic company lent her more strength than she could explain.

They were getting close. She could feel it. The plants were lush, there were less animals lying dead due to starvation. Her heart pumped with joy, she looked toward her walking partner and smiled. He smiled back, and her heart pumped harder. She realized that this was the first time she had ever seen him smile. And she knew the desire that she dared only show at night while he was sleeping flashed across her face.

He flushed in recognition, and their pace slowed. She could see him making a decision in his head, but she knew that beyond all doubt there was only one choice.

She reached out and touched his arm. She could feel the electricity transfer between them, and she saw his cock become immediately rigid in his pants. She took a deep breath, and shook her head. She pointed in the direction they were walking and nodded at him to follow. He looked pained, but gave her a look that said he knew she was right.

The pace that they had developed quickened almost to a jog. Their breath quickened in time and their bodies moved forward, feeding off each other’s energy. She felt the adrenaline course through her body, but she began to get light headed and knew that with what they had been eating … or rather what they hadn’t been eating, they wouldn’t be able to keep the pace up. They would expend all their energy before reaching the border.

She slowed her pace, and again with complete understanding, he slowed to match her. The time that followed was agony. Minutes felt like days. Her desire for him and desire to reach the border made it feel as though the distance they were covering was endless. When she could, she would glance sideways at him. Before this morning, that would just have been to check in to make sure that he wasn’t passing out at her side. But now, it was laden with much more purpose. There were times when she would look at him and their eyes would meet. It made her wet, every time, and she had to look away for fear that she wouldn’t have the strength or self-control to continue toward freedom.

And then they saw it, the border. He grabbed her hand, and she his for a brief moment, and they began to sprint toward it. The state they lived in had technology to keep slaves inside the borders. Judging by the scar on his left forearm – the one that matched hers – he had found a way to remove his slave chip too.

Keeping up with one another, their feet pounded along the rough terrain. They were so close when they heard the gunshots.... She dared not look behind her for fear her pace would slow, but knew they were being followed by OPS: groups of poor free people who would catch runaway slaves for pitiful rewards. More if the slaves were still alive, but they still something even if the slaves were dead. A dead slave was still valuable in order to keep the silence surrounding the terrible treatment slaves were afforded.

They both ran, gunfire at their backs, sprinting with all the energy they could muster. She felt a bullet graze her cheek and almost cried out in fear, but knew doing so would trigger the voice activated state-wide alarm. Even so close to the border there was no escaping the troops that appeared when that was activated … they very rarely respected state lines. So she kept her pain internalized and they ran.

They just barely made it to the border. She looked to see that a truck had just pulled up with a machine gun strapped to the back. She was glad they had crossed before that had gotten in range. They ran a bit further to ensure their own safety. Most OPS would not cross state border, but in times of real need, some might try. Her muscles ached, and her lungs burned from the effort. When they were certain they were no longer being followed, they stopped in a glade of trees and he looked at her with concern.

He stripped his filthy shirt off, found the cleanest spot and pressed it up to her cheek where the bullet had grazed her cheek. In all of the commotion she hadn’t even realized she was bleeding. She smiled at him and tears started streaming down her face.

In a hoarse voice she croaked “We’re free.”

Tears began to cascade down his face as he nodded in agreement. “I’m Chris.”

“Lela.”

She stared at him as his tears created streaks in the weeks of dirt, sweat, and grime that had accumulated. She grabbed the hand that held his shirt to her face and used her other hand to pull him in and kiss him hard on the mouth. The weeks of longing washed through the both of them and she could feel him shudder as she pulled him in. Her hands explored the rigid chisel of his body as her tongue worked in concert with his. His body felt exactly as she had imagined in those long nights watching their back, making sure they would survive.

He ran his hand through her greasy hair, pulling slightly at the end causing her to gasp in delight. Her clit pulsed and she pushed her body on top of his, causing him to drop the t-shirt he held against her face. He wrapped his powerful arms around her and pulled her so tight she almost couldn’t breathe. But she returned his hug and they sat there holding each other, kissing, crying in each others arms.

He stared into her eyes, and she saw the longing, the fire, that had been there every time she woke up. She stripped off her dirty, travel-worn shirt and could feel him engorge underneath her.

“I’ve wanted this for weeks.”

“I know … me too.”

She put his finger across his lips as it seemed he wanted to say more. They were free. There would be time for words later. He nodded and took her off his lap and laid her gently in the grass on her side. He lay down next to her and caressed her naked torso. He took her small brown nipples into his mouth and she closed her eyes and felt her breathing deepen in approval. She groped at his arms and chest as he administered the first of their healing.

She opened her eyes and pushed him onto his back. She gently undid his top button and pulled his pants off. The veins on his penis painfully throbbed, as his rock-hard erection flopped up onto his stomach. She stood up and tossed his pants aside. As she removed her pants, and the last of the clothes that linked her to her past, she watched his abdomen convulsively expand and contract as he caressed his cock.

She knelt next to him and gave him one more kiss before swinging her leg over him and sliding him into her. As he entered her she could feel the sensation travel out to her extremities, ending with a tingle in her fingertips. And the healing continued. With every pump the lashes from her slaver healed. With every stroke the indignities of being owned as property in 22nd century America faded. As his hands, rough from hard labor, ran across her breasts she was able to escape her past, if only for a moment.

Their pace, like when they had first walked together, was slow and tentative – their emotional injuries still fresh and painful. But as they allowed one another's physical love to heal the wounds that they had accumulated, their pace intensified. His penis thrust into her and her hips rocked in time … matching each others' rhythm, perfectly in sync. The smells of their journey and their sex drifted up into her nostrils, causing her to inhale sharply from the pleasure of it all. Sitting on top of his pelvis, and taking in the intermingled body odor, road grime, and sex smells, she began to rub her clit as she rocked, taking her closer to the edge.

She looked into his eyes and felt love like she hadn’t since she had been forced into slavery. Her orgasm radiated outward causing her body to tremble and tears to spill from her eyes. He thrust into her to help accommodate her orgasm and pushed himself over the edge in the process, grabbing her ass and gasping in pleasure.

She rolled off him into the grass, and he pulled her into him. They were both crying. Tears of pleasure. Tears of healing. Tears of happiness. Tears of hope.

They made love in that very spot all throughout the night. Asking the questions that they had wanted to ask all throughout their journey. Exploring each others' minds as well as each others' bodies. Making their disparate scents come together as one.

“You saved my life.”

“No, you saved mine.”

Were 2010 Super Bowl Ads Misogynistic?

2010-02-11T00:28:00.002-05:00

What up? So, a friend of mine sent me a link to the following critique of super bowl commercials.

The Author’s bottom line was that super bowl ads were misogynistic. However, when reading the blog post, I feel as though all super bowl ads weren’t given a thorough look. The author makes a generalization of misogyny in super bowl ads without really providing much back-up for the theory. So, with the power of the internet and all the extra time I have because there is blizzard happening, I watched every single commercial that aired during the super bowl. Based on the data accrued I am going to hook you all up with themes that I, with my very distinct viewpoint, found striking about the ads.

Before I begin, I talk about many commercials throughout this post. I was going to link to each one I mentioned, but I’ve decided based upon my analysis I have little to no desire to actually do that kind of promotion for these companies. If you go here, all of the commercials are listed. You can try to figure which ads I’m talking about based on my descriptions.

Here are the things I found striking:

#1 Dudes are car driving, beer drinking, food eaters.
This one is actually just based on a statistical analysis. Of the 68 ads played, 14 were about food, 11 were about cars and 9 were about beer. (With websites [7], technology [5] and NFL [5] coming in at 4th, 5th, and 6th for number of ads, respectively). Basically, if you were to size up men based on the ads, all dudes should care about is eating (mostly) junk food, getting wasted, and then hopping in a sweet ride. Sounds dumb considering the whole people shouldn’t really drunk drive thing (but I guess that’s also a theme, check out #5).

#2 There was only one advertisement that specifically targeted women.
There were 68 ads played throughout the course of the super bowl, and not surprisingly, most were advertising to men. However, because I do know a female football fan or two, I thought there would be a few more. Sketchers Shape-Ups, the one ad that did specifically target women, also targeted men. In doing so, there was a stark dichotomy in how the shoes were being sold. For the fellas the shoes were all about improving strength and posture. For the ladies? You guessed it! The selling points for these shoes were helping women to lose weight without hitting the gym AND fitting better in their jeans. Because, you know, women are only supposed to care about their weight, and couldn’t possibly want to be strong and have good posture.

#3 Gay people don’t exist.
I had hopes when the Anheuser Busch commercial came on showing the horse and the calf frolicking together. It could be interpreted as a gay theme, if one wanted. However, at the end of the commercial, they made sure it wouldn’t be seen that way by saying that horse and bull were just friends.

#4 Women have no power.

Women in some of the Super Bowl Commercials are either never given power or have power taken away. here is a partial list of some examples of this:

Example 1: Even though Danica Patrick is a badass race car driver … in the godaddy commercials, she’s nothing but a pretty spokes model (As are the other women in the commercials).
Example 2: In order to hold on to his Bridgestone tires, some dude would hand his wife over to bandits.
Example 3: When women are trying to have a discussion about a book, bud light makes it so that men can invade their party and hit on them (poorly).
Example 4: Tim Tebow tackles the fuck out his mom.
Example 5: In every commercial about a movie or a video game, women are just there to be fucked and or rescued.
Example 6: In a Bud Light commercial, a woman is taking a shower, and gets peeped in on when people start to take cans out of a house made out of bud light cans…
Example 7: A woman is about to go on a date with a dude and he checks out her booty. Her 5 year old son then throws down and goes to her rescue by slapping and then threatening the suitor. Because, you know, women are so helpless that even a 5 year old can protect a woman better than she could herself.
Example 8: One huge shoutout to women having no power was the bud light commercial that parodied lost. There is one woman that tries to get radio contact with the outside world, but everyone flocks to the dude who finds a fridge full of bud light. When she does make radio contact, some dude changes it to music instead. No power, even when people should’ve probably listened to her.

#5 Men are either huge douchetools … or mega super men.
If women came off as having no power … men came off as huge idiots much of the time.

Like in the Doritos commercial where the man is outsmarted by a dog. Or in the bud light commercial where the scientist mistakes a tiny chunk of space matter for an earth ending asteroid. Or when the dude from intel talks about how the processors are the best product intel has ever come up with right in front of an AI robot (that I’m assuming Intel developed).

When men aren’t portrayed as total idiots, then they are supermen. Like in the NFL commercial that compares a touchdown to launching a space shuttle. Or the coke commercial where a man sleepwalks through African wildlife and doesn’t get killed. Or the cars.com commercial where dudebro is a super genius and saves peeps from a tornado and helps a tiger give breach birth. Or in the Dr. Pepper commercial where the Kiss band member rips the top off a Dr. Pepper can like it was an everyday occurrence.

#6 Being in a relationship sucks … and that is obviously the woman’s fault.
While no power was really given to women in the super bowl commercials … two commercials straight up hated on being in relationships with women.

The first was the dodge charger commercial where the dudes talk about how they do everything for their ladies, but they still get to be dudes by driving a charger. Those guys seemed pretty pissed about having to deal with life. My favorite is “I will take my socks off before getting into bed.” And dudebro just looked super angry about it. But at least he gets to drive his charger.

The other commercial was the FloTv commercial where boyfriend couldn’t watch the game because his lady (also apparently the root of evil) made him go shopping with her. He is called spineless, and is chastised for not doing whatever he can to fulfill his sports obsession. Not only does he have to help his girlfriend buy hot undies, but he is no longer a man because he’s taken some time away from his sports obsession. Women suck.

#7 Men of Color
So … most of the people who were featured in the ads were white folks.

However, men of color, when given spotlight, were animalized (like when TruTv turns Palumalu into a groundhog), treated as crazy aggressive (the sumo wrestler in the KGB commercial, or the 5 year old in the Doritos commercial) or they were stereotyped (Charles Barkley rapping in the Taco Bell commercial).

I don’t think I saw any Latino men at all, and the only 2 Asian men represented were the sumo wrestler and the dude who misinterpreted the asteroid.

#8 Junk Food Will Make You AMAZING
Like when Betty White eats a Snickers bar and turns back into a dude and can play football again. Or the coke commercial where Monty Burns loses his fortune, but feels better when he’s given a coke. Or the Doritos commercial where dude has a samurai suit made out of Doritos and he ninja-stars a dude in the neck … with a Dorito.

So, when I watched all the Super Bowl commercials, those were the themes that really stuck out to me. You’re more than welcome to interpret my findings as you will.

But let’s return to the question that brought me to do this analysis: “Were the super bowl ads misogynistic?”

38 out of 64 were not. More than half refrained from any sort of overt or covert woman hating.
23 were what I’m going to call covertly misogynistic. Although they did not outright hate on the ladies, these commercials resorted to objectifying, victimizing, or taking power away from women in one form or another in order to sell their product. The companies included in this list were: Bud Light (a few times), Snickers, Focus on Family, Robin Hood, GoDaddy, Monster, Doritos, Sketchers, Prince of Persia, Motorola, ETrade, Kia, Vizeo, EA. Now … if you do end up looking up these commercials, I admit that you may disagree that some of them are misogynistic, even covertly. Basically anytime there was an objectified or disempowered woman, I added that company to this list. Your definition of disempowered woman may be different than my own.
3 were outright misogynistic. There are the two that I mentioned in theme #6 above. The other one, in my opinion, is the Bridgestone commercial where tires are more important than his wife. If you don’t want to support women-hating advertising add Dodge, Bridgestone, and FloTv to your “Do Not Buy” list.

My final thought about all of this is, obviously advertising should be taken with a grain of salt. They’re trying to elicit an emotional reaction so that you’ll remember their name and their product. My purpose in this analysis is simply to show how things can be seen when looked at more critically than we usually look at advertising. Take this whole analysis as you will.

Also, although I think that the commentary that men have to be tough and protect the women in their life with whatever force necessary is kind of ridiculously done, my favorite ad, by far, is this one

It shouldn’t be as it’s definitely on the covert misogyny list … but it still is. That kid is adorable.

-Becca

Yes, No, Maybe Chart

2010-02-08T21:49:00.002-05:00

Update!

My site has changed locations, and you can find the new version of these charts at the following URL:

http://www.smarthotfun.com/wantwillwontchart/charts/

Thanks and apologies to anyone who has clicked on dead links lately!

-Becca

So, the chart is an oldie but goodie. The blog post is brand spankin’ new (if you checked ‘yes’ on your chart for spankings, of course).

Have you ever wondered if your partner likes her ass spanked?

Have you ever fantasized about your partner stripping down to his banana hammock and shakin’ it for you to the sexy music of your choice?

Have you ever really just wanted your partner to keep their stockings ON while you’re fucking?

Have you ever imagined your partners wearing your stockings and heels while you’re fucking?

Do you sometimes feel like you have NO idea how on earth you’d bring any of these things up, but you REALLY REALLY want to?

Well, then the Yes, No, Maybe Chart is for you. For a nominal fee of $0, and maybe some love in the comments section, you and your partner can delve into each others' desires and fantasies with a super fun activity!

Use it to spice up a sex life that’s gotten stagnant!

Use it to get on the same page with your partners’ desires!

You can even use it to interview potential fuck buddies!

The limits are endless. All you have to do is click below.

CLICK HERE FOR THE MS WORD VERSION (SO YOU CAN EDIT STUFF)

CLICK HERE FOR THE PDF VERSION (IF YOU DON’T HAVE MS WORD)

And of course, with any awesome product, there’s fine print. Except, I will not be making it smaller, I think you should actually read these.

1. The Yes, No, Maybe Chart is not my original idea. Someone else (I’m not sure who) came up with it long before I did. What makes mine special is that it’s here, and that it’s fairly exhaustive, and that it includes instructions and definitions.

2. When I say fairly exhaustive, I mean that most umbrella terms are here. What THAT means is that, although Japanese Bondage and Western Bondage are not specifically listed, both of those fall under ‘Bondage.’ If you can’t find a specific activity you’d like to discuss, I recommend downloading the MS WORD version and editing it in there.

3. Which brings me to my next point that this is a conversation STARTER. For some of the activities on this list, you will need to make sure that you’ve researched proper safety and protocol before you actually do them. Beccassexblog.com will not be held responsible for anything crazy that happens if you try something out simply based on the definitions given.

4. The yes, no, maybe chart cannot guarantee a happy ending. You may find out that you and your partner share the same level of kink … but you may find out that you’re a mismatch. If you really respect your partner or partners, you’ll find a way to converse until you can come to a resolution if any conflict arises.

5. Remember not to force this activity on your partner. If they’re up for it, then by all means, go to town! If they’re not, please respect their right to pass.

6. This doesn’t only have to happen once. Tastes change and people get curious. If you haven’t rocked it in a while, I recommend a revisit.

7. You don’t have to be in a relationship to do this activity. This might be a really good way for you to check in with your desires on your own! It could also be a great activity to do at a party with your friends (well, maybe it’s a good for me to do this at a party with my friends. It definitely depends on the crowd you roll with.)

End Disclaimers

Have fun!

-Becca

People Are Probably Going To Sleep Around, Even If They’re In A Relationship

2010-02-04T20:55:00.002-05:00

I apologize for my slacking off in January. But welcome to Super Legit February. Where I will at the very least put up two posts to make up for my lack of posting.

Anyway.

In one of my classes, I was assigned a paper on an element of Human Sexual Behavior that was personally challenging to me. This paper was part opinion and emotions based, so in translating it, you should know that I’ve only left in the factual information that I learned. So … this isn’t a direct translation from the paper.

The original title was: Sexual Monogamy

I call this paper translation: People Are Probably Going To Sleep Around, Even If They’re In A Relationship

In our current culture, there seems to be a common theme in terms of the way romantic relationships are portrayed. Whether the information is coming from teachers, television, movies, music, preachers, your mom, or pretty much any other mainstream source, you hear a common message:

A “good” relationship is one where you are with ONLY one other person and you both work to start a life together. Because this person is the person you’re going to share a life with, you should both be able to fulfill each other completely. This means that good relationships are ones where you never have sex with anyone else … ever. Nor would you want to.

If you, for whatever reason, find yourself desiring sex outside of your life partner … not only are you a failure, but your relationship is also a failure, based on how relationships are supposed to be.

Right? I mean … right? Because, I mean, it’s an age old story. You find your soulmate, you have/adopt hella babies, you buy/rent a home together and you wander off into the sunset completely fulfilled and having the best sex of your life forever. And if you can’t hang with that … obviously there is something wrong with you or your relationships.

And because this is what we hear all the time, and because it’s the message that we’re getting practically everywhere, science should totally back this up, right?

Wrong. Well … kinda wrong. All the ‘building a life together with one person' stuff (which we’ll call Social Monogamy from here on out)? Totally legit and backed up by history and science. All the “human beings are supposed to find one person to have sex with forever” stuff (which we’ll call Sexual Monogamy)? Science doesn’t seem to think it’s all that realistic to expect that if you're in a socially monogamous relationship.

Lemme take you kiddies on a journey through evolution.

So, human beings … we’re animals, right? We’re just super complex, emotion feeling, ENORMOUS pre-frontal cortex (i.e. brain!) kind of animals. So, just like all other animals, we’ve evolved … but because of our brains we evolve based on more than just our biological impulses. Just for a second, I want you to forget everything but our biology. Because if we looked at humans as if they were animals … biology says that we’d be (big word alert) polygynous.

So wtf is polygynous? Basically, it means that the dudes with the most resources (in our case, rich people) would have large groups of women who they would knock up and support. Now, because this rich guy can’t always keep up with all his ladies, other dudes would still get in on the action by getting women in these groups pregnant on the sly. The rich guy probably knows this is happening, but because he has so many ladies who have kids that are probably his … he still takes care of those ladies because he can. This system makes it so that we keep our gene pool diverse, AND so that lots of babies survive into adulthood. Which, by the way, is the ultimate goal of life.

But, Becca … we’ve evolved, and what if we really have become monogamous now?

Science also tells us that animals that look monogamous usually aren’t. Even though you might see these cutsie bird couples raising babies together … the reality is that dudebro bird takes time out of his day to try to mate with hella ladies, AND that while dudebro bird is away, his woman is getting it on with other guy birds too. (With the lady part, it’s especially true if she’s got a less desirable mate. Even though she loves him and wants to raise kids with him, she would rather have a studly dude bird impregnate her. Just sayin’.) Although the likelihood of getting pregnant outside of the monogamous unit is less … it still happens quite a bit in the animal kingdom.

But, humans are too complex to boil our actions down to just biology. Obviously. Because if we did, I’d be typing this blog post from a harem, while my 5 kids (some of whom who did not belong to my rich sugar daddy) swarmed around my bare feet. OR, I would be sitting at home watching my dude partner guard the door from other dudes so they didn’t come in and try to mate with me (even though as soon as he left I was gonna let the hottie from up the street in anyway. Holla!)

So … how did we go from having kids in harems to raising kids with one other person? Agrarian culture had a lot to do with it. We lived off the land, and it was WAY better if all our hard work on our farm didn’t go to benefit strangers. So? We married one person, had hella babies with them, and had those babies work the farm. Once the industrial revolution hit, we kept the system of marrying and having sex with one person in fashion. But instead of basing it off of survival, we started basing this system off of sex, emotions, and intimacy.

And we all lived happily ever after, getting all our sexual fulfillment from the person we were in relationship with.

Oh wait. Or some studies have shown that up to 80% of people in monogamous couples (married or not) have cheated on their partners.

So science … at this point, doesn’t back up the idea that if you’re socially monogamous … you should always be sexually monogamous. Biologically it’s not really how things are done … and even though lots of people say that relationships should be that way … it’s not actually what people are doing.

Alright Becca, back the fuck up. If humans aren’t supposed to be sexually monogamous with the person they’re socially monogamous with, why does it hurt so much when people cheat?

Excellent question, theoretical jealous person.

And you’ve actually answered your own question. People get hurt when cheating occurs because someone has CHEATED. This means that a rule that you and your partner have come up with for each other has been broken. Often, when people are hurt, it’s less about the actual sex than it is the LYING.

In (another big word alert) polyamorous relationships, shit is WAY different when people have sex with someone who isn’t their primary boo.

So first, polyamory … what is this? That’s a long crazy story (perhaps for another blog post). So I’m going to oversimplify to save time. Polyamory is an umbrella term for any type of relationship that has rules that allow either sex or love with someone who isn’t your life-partner. Basically, you have your main squeeze, but you’re allowed to fuck and/or love other people and its chill with your partner. (Note: This is only because you’ve explicitly set it up this way. If your partner thinks that you’re their one and only and you’re sleeping around … that doesn’t make you polyamourous.)

In polyamorous relationships the rules are different. If you sleep with someone else, you haven’t cheated. There may still be hurt, but it isn’t based on lying or not telling someone or anything like that. Some of the science about polyamory even reports that there are times when people are stoked about their partners getting it on with other people. It’s an emotion that’s the opposite of jealousy. (They call it compersion, if you’re interested in the big words.)

Okay … but uh, what about STIs?

So, I thought that when I looked into studies about HIV, the bottom line in the studies would be like, “In order to best prevent HIV, you should be sexually monogamous.”

But, in the studies that I did read, (which was, by no means all of them) the biggest advice that was given was to know your honey’s business. That’s right. Rather than saying “only do one person” the studies recommended just knowing when your partner is having sex with someone who isn’t you. People who thought they were in relationships that were sexually monogamous were less likely to protect themselves from HIV. People who either assumed or knew that their partners were messing around the side … were more likely to engage in protective habits.

True story.

So sure, only doing one person when you’ve both been tested is a surefire way to prevent stuff. But … based on what we’ve seen thus far, people aren’t very good at being sexually monogamous, AND because cheating hurts so much … we are less likely to be honest with the partners who do think they’re our one and only.

This, in turn, puts us at higher risk for getting STIs.

So, if biologically, science doesn’t support sexual monogamy for humans … and if being hurt isn’t the only way someone can respond to their partners not being sexually monogamous, and if even HIV prevention isn’t waiving the sexually monogamous flag … why do people still do monogamy?

Basically, because it’s all we see and all we’re told, we don’t take the time to really look at ourselves when we’re in monogamous relationships.

It’s like dudes wearing pants. In this culture, we take for granted that dudes wear pants, and that if a dude doesn’t want to wear pants, something is wrong with him as a dude. But, if we just took a second to really think about it, why do we have that rule? Because, as someone who has worn a skirt or two in her day, they are wicked comfortable. Why wouldn’t anyone want to wear a skirt? But because we just assume that dudes wear pants, we don’t find it weird that dudes only ever wear pants. We don’t even think about it, talk about it, or question it.

It’s kinda the same thing with sexual monogamy and social monogamy being linked together all the time. We’re told that once we find our soulmate, the whole sexual thing will magically fall into place. So when we get into a socially monogamous relationship with someone … we don’t even talk about sexual monogamy, because we figure it’ll all just work itself out. We just assume that’s the way it will be. Then, when cheating happens … everyone acts surprised. Not because cheating is rare, but because we’ve told ourselves as a culture that sexual monogamy and social monogamy are the same thing.

So wait … what are you really trying to say here, chica?

My conclusion is: Science does not support the idea that sexual monogamy and social monogamy are the same thing.

To rephrase that: If you pay attention to what academics are saying … it’s that the fairy tale of ‘happily ever after’ is simply that … a fairy tale. You may very well find someone who fulfills you in a way that no other human being can. But that doesn’t mean that you and that person are going to only ever have or want to have sex with each other forever.

End of Paper Translation

As you all know, I do like to give my two cents on the issue. The following is how I personally feel about saying that once you find someone to be socially monogamous with … you also have to be sexually monogamous with them.

So … Becca. Are you telling me that after all this time I should give up on love and happiness with one person?

Hell no, sucka!

I actually believe very much in the realistic nature of finding one person to start a life with. If you’re interested in buying a home or having kids or doing anything that requires a long-term commitment to someone … I think that having that one person that you can trust and love and count on … is beautiful thing. (I also believe that this is only one of the many ways to get this done … but for the sake of this post, I’ll keep it simple and stop there.)

But if you’re rocking life that way, it is acceptable to seek people outside of that unit for emotional fulfillment you can’t get at home. No one would ever think twice when a dude goes to a friend’s house to watch the icecapades because his wife is watching football with her obnoxious girlfriends again. She needs those football buddies, and he needs his ice skating crew. They can’t get that need fulfilled with each other … so they turn to other people. It’s called ‘friendship.’ The ‘happily ever after’ fairytale includes friends. Healthy relationships include friends and activities outside the partnership.

But if there is a sexual need that a partner can’t fulfill or that someone can’t get at home … we immediately flip out if someone tries to fulfill that need outside of the pair. We start to place blame and point fingers. “Your man is sleeping around because you’re not throwing down in the bedroom. Your woman ain’t getting what she needs and that’s your fault.” In many instances … those accusations may very well be true. However … in some circumstances, when people sleep around … it has little or nothing to do with their partners at home. They might be completely satisfied, but just want something a little different. Or, they may have a need or desire that their partner isn’t into. When it comes to nonsexual things, we as a culture think it’s a great idea to look outside a monogamous relationship to get those things. But when it's sex ... that's a huge (arbitrary) no no.

And I honestly think that’s because we live in a world where we just have no idea how to talk about sex in a way that’s as neutral as we can talk about football or ice skating. We’re so scared and ignorant about sex that the idea of having to talk about what we’re doing with other people is fucking scary.

Because of this, I don’t think that sexual nonmonogamy is realistic for everyone. In order to really take on being with someone while simultaneously being able to fuck someone else, there is a definite skill set, and level of trust and comfort, that I don’t think many people in this culture are capable of.

I also think that there are people who are truly happy in sexual monogamy. And above all, I am down with people seeking out relationships that work for them.

But I think that this happily ever after myth is harmful to some. Because it sets unrealistic expectations that are difficult to live up to. It’s like our culture is setting our couples up for failure. It makes good solid relationships that could easily withstand time dissolve just because people want to seek out new sexual experiences. Which, according to science, is just how people do.

If we learned how to talk about our desires and learn how to allow for people to fulfill their sexual needs while still remaining emotionally conscious and compassionate, the hurt that results from cheating could be lessened.

I would even go so far as to say that if we started telling a new, more realistic fairy tale about how relationships really work … the concept of cheating could literally be erased.

Crazy, right?

Think about it.

-Becca

Dudes Don't Moan While They're Fucking

2009-12-04T18:22:00.002-05:00

So, academia. Many of you know how this system works. Some of you don’t. In academia, you do research by reading other pieces of research in order to help thought around the subject matter progress. You use language and jargon that is completely inaccessible to anyone but people in your field. You write papers that no one reads. You read books that have nothing to do with what you’re interested in. Your line of thinking works within a theoretical space that doesn’t always align with reality, but you hope someday to make that theory real. And at the end, if you make it, you get letters by your name. M.A. PhD. EdD. Even though what you’ve done for the previous four years probably don’t prepare you for any sort of practical employment, because you’ve put in your time (and your money, don’t forget that part), you’re now legitimate.

I have issues with the whole academic system from K – grad school. But what I learn as I get older is that when you’re working in unfamiliar territory, you have to have a cultural token that is familiar. When I go out swinging and advocating for Sex Education, people will hear Dr. before they ever hear the word sex, and it will work to my advantage hopefully. Maybe then, and it’s still just a maybe, the populous will be distracted enough by the degree I’ve bought to listen.

So what is the relevance of that rant to this blog?

Right now I’m in the ‘writing papers that no one will read” phase. And when I write these papers, they’re written in the hierarchicalized jargon of my field. So people ask, “Can I read your papers?” And I’m like, sure you could read them … but you’ll probably be bored.

So, every now and again, here on this Blog, when I get the time and the energy to write (because nothing has killed my urge to write for pleasure more than being in Grad School….) I’m going to start translating my papers into language that’s both fun and accessible. You may not see my rock solid logic, you may not be blown away by how well my research is done, but you’ll get the important punch line. Should you ever want the original academic work, feel free to hit me up.

My 1st Paper was a 3 pager, so we’re starting small.

The original title of the paper was “Effects of Cultural Expectation on Emotional Expression in ‘Real Men’.”

This translation will be titled:

Dudes Don’t Moan While They’re Fucking

There are lots of different kinds of men in the world, but this paper is talking about the type of man I’ll call the “dude” or “dudebro”. These are the kind of men who walk through life trying to live up to the standards of being macho and never crying and liking sports and shit like that. For the dudebro, the cost of not following those rules can be high. These men are made fun of by those protecting the dudebro way of life, they aren’t considered sexually desirable, and sometimes they even get beat up for it.

If the dude doesn’t want to have to deal with the costs associated with stepping outside the rules, he has to adapt. Most dudes learn how to adapt by only letting anger out. So, let’s say for example a dude’s partner breaks up with him. He’s been taught that crying or talking it out makes it so that he can’t be a real man anymore. So instead of taking out his emotions by crying or talking it out, he punches something or someone or screams or some other sort of anger related outburst. And mothers, fathers, brothers, girlfriends, etc, applaud him and tell him that’s he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing. He still gets to be a real man.

Chill, right? Not really, because here are some places where this whole ‘only being able to be angry’ thing can get in the way of life.

#1 It makes it so that, sometimes, when dudes want to talk to other dudes about their feelings … they can’t. They’re afraid if they start talking about their emotions, the dude they’re talking to is going to make fun of them. These guys also have no idea HOW to talk about their emotions. I mean, they grew up only being able to be angry, so they don’t even know what words to use to describe how they’re feeling.

As a result of this, a guy may never feel a real connection to his best guy friend. They might be able to talk about football for hours on end, but they don’t feel comfortable getting past that moment. And when this dude is lost or hurt or sad, and he tries to talk to his best dude friend about it … they both get all uncomfortable because they’ve been taught that they’re not supposed to even HAVE those feelings, let alone want to talk about them.

So being a dude makes it hard to get close with other dudes, even if one really wants to.

#2 Following dudebro rules also makes it so that dudes don’t understand themselves. There was this dude Herold who wrote this article on how he sometimes feels really alone. He tries to talk to his guy friends about it, and because of #1 above, it doesn’t work. Then, he tries to talk to lady friends about it, but he waits until all this crazy emotion has built up. So then, he spits out everything he’s been feeling in a 5 minute rant, and then she doesn’t understand him. Rather than trying again, he’s like, ‘well I’m not supposed to be feeling these things anyway and because I’m a man, these emotions don’t affect me anyway.” But they do. So instead of working out what’s really going on, he just feels anger. He’s angry that his lady friend didn’t understand him, that his man friends can’t understand him, and that he doesn’t understand himself.

See, because of how society expects men to act, this Herold guy never learned how to express his emotions other than to be angry. So because he doesn’t know how to express his emotions, he can’t talk about them with anyone else. Because he can’t talk about them with anyone else, he can’t get any opinions on what might be going on. Because he can’t get opinions about what’s going on, he doesn’t understand what’s going on.

So he gets angry. Because that’s all he knows how to do. And his conclusion was that it sucks, because he wants to not be angry about things all the time. He wishes he had more emotions to choose from that wouldn’t get him made fun of or get him called non-manly names.

#3 So this whole, not being expressive thing. Real men can have emotion when a) they’re angry, or b) when something awesome happens during a competition.

Women are expected to be expressive. Its okay for them to talk about their feelings and express when they’re happy or sad or whatever emotion it is that they’re feeling, regardless of context.

That why when you see video depictions of sex (porn, etc), you often hear the ladies letting loose and moaning and screaming and praising jesus, or whatever. Because women are expected to be emotional and are allowed to let their emotions take over without that being a threat to their identities as women.

We already know that dudes are supposed to be in complete control of their emotions and can’t express emotion unless it’s anger. So when you watch porn, dudes are allowed noises like grunts, and that one big moan when he comes, but otherwise there’s a tendency toward silence. Because if he starts to express his pleasure vocally, then he’s roaming into lady territory, which definitely means you can no longer be a real man.

Which is why dudes don’t moan while they’re fucking.

End of Paper Translation

Now, my personal opinion is that this sucks.

And the problem is many of us reinforce it either without thinking or completely consciously. We reinforce these random rules by calling men ‘pussies’ when they cry. Or by convincing your mom that your 13 year old brother should join the football team because he’s too sensitive (sorry lil’ guy). Or by telling your best friend that he’s way too gay acting sometimes (sorry doobs).

I’ve perpetuated it, and I feel bad about it in retrospect. Because while I thought that I was protecting the men in my life, maybe I was really just forcing them into this space that’s emotionally devoid and isolating. I want them to be able to break free of that stunted emotional space, and I have not helped that process through my own actions…

As an ally, it’s my job to feel okay when a dude is trying to express his emotions. It’s my job to do my part to try to understand him, and maybe even help him out with the words that I’ve been raised to have and use. To encourage him to do it, and not make him feel guilty when he can’t.

And maybe, just maybe, when dudes start to learn how to express all of their emotions and not just anger … they’ll moan more during all stages of fucking.

Liberating AND super hot. Mmmmhmmmm.

The End.

Good Vibrations Magazine: Sex Educator Profile

2009-11-17T15:04:00.002-05:00

So, it’s official. I’ve been slacking because of crazy life transitions and school.

Life in PA has been … interesting … thus far and I have been incredibly distracted.

But check it out! I’m a featured Sex Educator for the Good Vibrations Magazine Blog! Holler!

http://magazine.goodvibes.com/2009/11/17/sex-educator-profiles-becca-brewer/

You should definitely read it, and I am going to use this opportunity to get this big bad blog restarted. (Hopefully, heh).

Hugs!

-Becca

Football and Feminism

2009-09-08T15:39:00.001-04:00

It is football season, and I am FUCKING STOKED. Always. Every season. Love me some college ball.

Now, due to my positionality within this world, my taste in college sports comes into question every year. Every year, the peeps from my pro-womyn crew are like, “Becca, say it isn’t so. How can you continue to support something so in the realm of patriarchy and hyper-masculinity?” Okay, so they don’t put it that way, exactly, but if I had to refine it down to something simple, that would be it.

Up until this point, I’ve just talked about my sense of history and community with the sport, but haven’t really critically analyzed how I can still be me and not feel hypocritical about supporting football. Today, I’m going to turn that critical eye on football and tell you why, at the end of the day, I will still bleed blue and gold and drive to NYC and fly to Minnesota and Cali just to catch a game.

“Becca … come on… Football is simply a sport that perpetuates hypermasculinity and violence…”

To this I say … true and not true. Yes, it is true that football is an aggressive and violent sport. It’s sometimes up to 4 hours of men beating the shit out of each other. Tens of thousands of people show up to watch it, and the harder the tackle, the more brutal the defense, the more excited the crowd gets. I will not say that football isn’t a celebration of violence. It definitely is.

But, at the same time, it is a celebration of consensual violence. When those boys step out on that field, they have consented to be tackled. They have consented to the risk of torn ACLs, brutality and violence. And I think, that places where aggression and violence are allowed in a consensual nature, it can be a good thing. I would rather a young man get all his aggression out on the football field than get it out by say, slapping his partner or drinking himself into oblivion or both. (I would also prefer that men learn how to talk it out, and think that someday that will happen, but right now, am realistic about reality…)

AND, although high levels of athleticism are expected and necessary for a good ball team, inappropriate displays of hypermasculinity are actually discouraged and regulated. Getting all up in someone’s face can get you a penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct. And as we’ve all learned from LaGarrette Blount … if you can’t deal with your sense of aggression and you punch Byron Hout in the face, your football career is over. There are consequences when violence is enacted outside of the bonds of the consensual contract.

So when my pro-femme friends ask me how I can support football it really does boil down to the fact that the violence being enacted is highly regulated and consensual.

And while this is not something that I may have thought about before this analysis, I take issue with the fact that I’m not allowed to celebrate violence. That as someone who believes very much in female rights, I’m somehow transgressing a standard that women are all supposed to be anti-violence. Yes, I’m against bombing innocent people and people battering their partners … but just because I’m a woman and agree with many of the tenets of feminism doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching two consenting people beat the shit out of each other.

Okay … but what about the hierarchilization of Male Sports over Female Sports?"

This one is tough because of my personal feelings about sports as a hetero woman and as a sports fan. I like watching sexy men touch each other (and that's not to say that the only body type and gender expression I find sexy in males is the hypermasculine. It's one, but not the only one). There is an element of eroticism and objectification in my personal reason for viewing. That’s one reason why I prefer male sports to female sports.

Then there’s also the level of athleticism. While I do feel that there are definitely women out there that could compete shoulder to shoulder with the boys if we could get over our ridiculous essentialism when it comes to genitals, the fact is that many can’t. Our bodies are physiologically different, and the physiological difference that occurs between the bodies makes for a difference in the level of play. Male sports tend to be more aggressive and more explosive.

With that being said, I think that female sports could be WAY more aggressive, but the ideas about how ‘ladies’ are supposed to act get in the way of truly allowing aggression into female sports. For example, when I was still at Cal, I attended my fair share of basketball games, both men’s and women’s. At men’s games, they let the players get away with a much higher level of physicality than they do the women. Women weren’t allowed to be as aggressive and would get fouls called for contact that would have been ignored or considered ‘standard’ in the men’s game. Also, at women’s games, fan interaction is more regulated. At men’s games, fans are allowed AND encouraged to talk shit about the opposing team. It’s almost expected and can increase the level of play and competition. At women’s games, heckling from the stands is discouraged because (and this is me projecting) we might hurt those fragile women’s feelings. Just like always, female aggression is institutionally seen as distasteful and women are not viewed as being able to handle adversity and need to be ‘protected’ by the refs. And if they changed the regulations, maybe at first shit would hit the fan. But I think eventually the game would adjust and be more successful for it.

Now, there’s also the argument that games should be about the skill of the sport and the execution. To that I say … duh. But, as a fan, I watch because I can’t play and since I’m not a former player, my understanding is only really enough to follow and understand the flow of play. Nuance isn’t exciting to me personally. The emotion of the play is what keeps me coming back for more. Aggression and explosiveness and passion are the elements that make sports exciting for me. Thereby, it’s my personal assertion that the institutionalization of ridiculous attitudes about female aggression is one of the reasons why female sports are not in the spotlight more. We assert that aggressiveness is a specifically male phenomenon, and don’t allow our women to bring it to the field or the court or whatever. And for the lay fan, if there is no emotion, there isn’t as much of a draw.

So what’s my reconciliation? Hypocrisy, I guess. I’m going to continue to watch male sports because they are more exciting and I like watching co-eds run around in their pads and get all tangled up in one another. It gets me excited and turns me on, and I will not deny myself that because I ‘should.’ (Also, I know that I have talked about watching because of the objectification of the men playing. I would only ever do that in voyeuristic sense, and would never actually treat any of those men as an object. ...unless they asked me to.)

And on another note, I always get asked if I think women should be allowed to play college and pro ball. Hells yes. But if and only if they can compete at the current level of competition. I hate the way female sports are regulated and think that it needs to be changed, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to see the sexist notions about female capability affect the current rules of football. But I also believe that there are women out there who can compete at the level of the fellas, who can take being tackled, who can go deep for a pass, whatever. I’d love to see it happen. I don’t think that women’s sports leagues should be dissolved either, but I think that if a woman can go for gold and glory in a men’s league (and vice versa for that matter) I don’t see why not.

"What about players who abuse their privilege and celebrity status?"

Yes, there is an element of all college and pro sports where there is an attitude of superiority, whether morally or financially or whatever. There are players out there who think that their status as players makes them above the law and above reproach for their actions. I wish that football programs would do more to encourage both the personal and professional integrity of players.

It is true that there is this sad and stunted element to football. And I understand that I am complicit in this when I pay to go to games. But at the same time, I also feel like there are so many legit, decent, and respectful men who are playing the game of ball less for the gold and the glory than for the love of the game. (Or even those who are playing for the money, but aren’t d-bags about it.) Don’t get me wrong, I love when our team has playmakers, but it’s the players that play with 100% of their heart that tend to make the game just that much better for me. The Vinnie Strang’s of football. That dude was 4 feet tall and weighed less than I do, but when he made a big play, it was amazing.

So should I stop watching football because there are rapists and sexists and ignorant players on the field? I could, but that would be like not interacting with men at all for the same reasons. I prefer instead to speak out when shit like that does go down. To call for action and suspension and disciplinary action when players act in ways which strike me as reproachable. If football wants to keep me as a female fan, they need to understand I won’t watch if they don’t punich the sexist/rapist player. Because, just like with masculinity in general, I don’t think the path to reform is through punishing innocents for the actions of perpetrators. I think that celebrating the good ones encourages others to be good ones. Not letting people who are assholes rise to star status in my personal sphere of consciousness. Because the truth is, I love the game too, and I’m not going to let the assholes ruin it for me.

"Anything else?"

So, even when my ladies and feminist fellas don’t like those reasons, I do also have some personal reasons for my pro-football leanings.

The first is community. Much of my own personal development as a human being happened with Cal Football as a backdrop. If Cal Football didn’t exist, the Cal Band wouldn’t exist, and I would have dropped out of college. I would never have met some of the most incredible friends a woman could have, and I would never have started upon the path I am currently on. So while Cal Football is not directly responsible for my success, in an oblique way it provided the arena for my success to exist. And thinking about where I could have been without Cal isn’t necessarily frightening, but it’s definitely not favorable.

Reason number two is gender based. Even if I’m not in the stadium, when I’m watching football, it’s the one place where I can swear and be a potty mouth and talk shit and not be looked at as this crazy anomaly of femininity. Everywhere else I go, this aspect of my personal timber of gender expression is something I have to fight for, defend, or tone-down. I grew up, for all intents and purposes, as a boy, and Cal Football is one of those spaces where I can get my ‘boy’ on without getting the resultant confused, dirty, or disgusted look. In fact, in terms of the privilege within the oppression, being a woman who understands even the slightest elements of football is given more respect than a dude who has a more nuanced understanding. I’m working to have a better understanding, but you know, there is more to life than football. (On the flip side of this, I also like football because it’s a place where men can express more emotion than just anger. Yes it’s related to football, but still.)

And the third and final reason. Football is a great escape. For up to four hours (and sometime longer if one engages in pre and post game activities), nothing matters but the game. Whatever’s wrong, whatever emotions are happening in life, during the game, the only emotions that come up are associated with what’s happening on the field. None of which occur as my own personal fault, and there are no emotions that I have any stake in. I can just be and feel and not be personally invested. And it’s nice to have that. It’s nice to be able to just let yourself get caught up in the game. And it’s temporary. Once the game ends, you have to return to reality and figure life out, of course, but sometimes you need to get away from yourself so you can even do that.

Conclusion

We’re #10. Go Bears, Beat the Eagles.

-Becca

The Transition: Day -1 and 1

2009-08-21T00:49:00.002-04:00

This is a sex blog. I know this.

However, the next few posts will not be about sex. Since I'm assuming most of my audience is comprised of friends and family, I thought I'd relate the story of my road-trip to Philly for the next few posts.

The SexBlog will make it's return once I'm done with the story of transition. (Plus the delayed gratification will make the return to sex so more exciting.)

Enjoy the transition as much as I am!

-Becca

The Final Countdown

The plan was to leave on August 15th, hop in the car at 8a, and start driving across the country.

I knew about this plan for months. I prepared by doing pretty much nothing until the 48 hours before I left. I started packing and sorting my clothes on the 13th, and then worked from 6a on the 14th to 7:45a on the 15th. As many of you know … that’s just how I roll. Here is what I accomplished in that 48 hours:

• Sorting all my clothes.
• Donating 6 kitchen sized trash bags full of clothes to Nicaragua.
• Cleaning my entire room (with Debbie’s bomb.com help!).
• Packing boxes to be kept, shipped or tossed.
• Cleaning the common spaces in the grotto (okay, I toothbrush cleaned the grout in the shower and swept. Debbs cleaned everything else.)
• Cleaning all my personal files off my desktop.
• Washing 4 loads of laundry.
• Eating Dinner with an old friend.
• Getting drinks with camp friends in the East Bay.
• Eating dinner with my family.
• Watching the final 3 episodes of season 3 of Six Feet Under.
• Playing an Epic rockband finale.
• Experiencing my final moment of ‘Becca’ time with the Hitachi before tossing it in the trash. (It’s been 7 years … it was time.)

I’m not going to lie … despite pulling an all nighter … the final 48 hours of my time in SF were incredible. Thanks to my friends and family and Debbs, there was a great deal of smiling and laughter and love. (Okay and some bittersweet tears as well…)

At 6:45a, I hugged Debbs goodbye, said my last goodbye to the Grotto with Commander Nanikins in tow, hopped in Lil’ Berry and headed to SSF to pick up Papa Brewer.

80 E; Eighty E; Eighty East; EIGHTY … EAST!

After giving my Momma a nice long hug goodbye, my dad and I hopped into Lil’ Berry and headed out for the beginning of our crazy cross country journey.

I was really nervous. There were so many unknowns. Would my dad and I be able to get along for 9 days? Would my dad and I be able to get along for 9 days … travelling across the country … in a tiny car? What are people going to think of a young woman of color traveling with an older white dude? Was Lil’ Berry going to make it across an entire country? Was Lil’ Berry even going to make through the mountains? Were all these weird roadside attractions that my dad planned to see be totally weaksauce? Would my dad’s and my idea of what this roadtrip was about vary so greatly that we would fight the whole way? Would my dad’s wide sitting stance get in the way of me being able to manually shift Lil’ Berry? If we didn’t shower everyday … would it get gross smelling in the tiny space? Would all our shit fit? So many more.

But, the reality was, all of those questions didn’t matter. Only getting in that car and driving mattered.

And my stubborn ass wanted to be the one to start the road trip. Even though I had been up for longer than 24 hours, something inside was pushing me to be the one to be the agent in moving my life across a country.

Behind Lil’ Berry’s wheel, half crazy from exhaustion, I pulled away from the only childhood home I had ever known and embarked on the beginning of one of the hugest risks I feel I’ve ever taken.

I drove and drove and drove until my body starting slightly nodding off at the wheel. I drove all the way out of California. It felt like a good solid start. Once we were out of California, we started to rock our roadside attractions.

You’ll notice that one thing that wasn’t on my list of final countdown activities was planning the road trip. Luckily, PB took care of that for me. We planned the basic route together weeks before, but he spent time looking up stuff to break up the monotony of driving 3000+ miles. At first, I was skeptical of this plan.

Before I left, I kept thinking of this roadtrip as purgatory. Not necessarily between the Heaven of Cali and Hell of Philly … but more like the no-mans land of my life in between locations. I kept feeling like we needed to just go like hell and make it there so I could start things.

I didn’t want to make waves right away, and I figured day 1 was cool for taking shit kinda slow considering I was exhausted anyway. So we starting stopping places.

Our first stop? The Mustang Ranch.

No, I did not go into the brothel (I was with my dad, brah … damn), but we stopped outside, took some photos, and drove into the parking lot to check things out. It looked kinda skeez-tastic to me, but hey, I’m always down to see America’s sexual culture, so it totally worked.

We drove for a while longer, checked out Register Rock, which was this rock that had old-school graffiti from the 1800s carved into it. I got to climb a big rock, and that made me happy, because I like to climb stuff.

Our first food stop was in Lovelock Nevada, which also happened to be the first of many towns that to me, represent ‘small-town’ America. You know, a couple blocks by a couple blocks of shops, and then a few more blocks of houses … and then miles of NOTHING on either side. Crazy.

We ate at a diner that actually had veggie burgers. It was surprisingly grubbin’!

Then we went to the local Safeway to pick up Sunflower seeds (they didn’t have any … strangely enough) and had our first “What in the hell is that?” moment with Lil’ Berry. While we were inside, the four people working at this Safeway all crowded by the window and were pointing and wondering. When we headed outside and hopped back in the car, one of the employees hopped out and asked, “Where’s the back seat?” (Or something to that effect)

To which PB replied, “We left it at home. It’s cheaper that way!” True.

We rolled out of lovelock and moved on to enjoy Nevada’s beautiful scenery. Oh wait … I forgot … Nevada scenery is pretty much miles and miles of endless desert. Hella boring. Not gonna lie, I slept a lot.

Our original plan was to drive through and stop for the night in Wells, Nevada. However, PB kept saying, “If we’re still full of Piss and Vinegar, we can keep driving until Twin Falls, Idaho.” Which we did.

It’s important to note that before we got to Twin Falls, we stopped in Podunk, Nevada (not a really city … I don’t remember which city this one was in) to see the World’s Largest Dead Polar Bear. It was in the saddest, seediest Casino. Let’s just say you knew there were regulars and most peeps in there were already drunk at like 4p in the afternoon. The polar bear was pretty cool though AND f’in huge, not gonna lie. It was at least 15 feet tall, but may have even been taller. (I, in my exhaustion, only took one photo the first day, sadly, so cannot share with you the monumental nature of this crazy stuffed polar bear.)

Although our plans were to camp our way across the country, we decided that day one would be spent motelin’ it because it was already dark, and it would have been difficult to set up a tent. We picked the Park Motel, which was cheap as shit. The bedspreads were like Navajo print from the 1970s, and the pillows looked pretty flat. I felt fortunate to have brought my own. We went to the local market, bought some tall cans (I got a Miller Lite tall can, PB got some Hurricane), and watched some bad TV until we both passed out.

Above: Our First Road-Trip Sunset

Next Stop: Yellowstone

Episode II: The Deflowering of Skywalker

2009-07-03T20:47:00.001-04:00

Here's the end! Enjoy! -Becca

***************************************************************

When they returned to Angeleno, Luke Skywalker was waiting for her at the top of a precipice. His month of isolation was long over, but she didn’t want to push his comfort level, so she merely greeted him with a touch on his shoulder. They discussed the journey, and they discussed each other. They hadn’t much time to build trust, and although time was short, conversation was necessary to assuage any nervousness before she began his training.

At one point, they both agreed it was time to proceed. In his time alone on the planet, Luke had prepared a training space.

The emotions she had felt when seeing Angeleno for the first time resurfaced. She was more than impressed with the space Luke had created. It was an indoor space, complete with space for bathing. The bed provided ample space for the both of them, and looked as soft as a cloud. The ambience was perfect and she could tell that much thought had gone into his choice.

She sat at the edge of the bed next to him.

“Tell me, young Skywalker. How have 21 full rotations of your planet’s moon transpired without you ever experiencing the touch of another?”

He explained that those who had given him opportunity had never done so in a way that felt appropriate. That one awkward situation after another had arisen, and he had declined several advances as a result. She was glad that he had not cited the anti-sex ideologies spouted by EASE. Had he been corrupted by their influence, he would not have been appropriate for this training. But his purity was not based upon lack of desire, only lack of opportunity. She would help him harness this desire and show him the power of The Thrust.

She relieved herself in the area set aside for bathing, and returned to him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and his clear blue eyes drank her in as she returned to him. Deep inside her senses, she knew it was time to begin.

“If I started kissing you right now, would you object?”

“No.”

He sat upright on the bed, and she straddled his strong legs, bringing her mouth down upon his. His arms enclosed around her and their breath quickened in time as the power of The Thrust began to work its way into their bodies. She appreciated all he had remembered from the lessons learned so long ago in the Cantina. His mouth was soft and warm, and he took his time, enjoying the taste of her mouth on his.

Sensing his body strain from keep them both upright, she pushed him down onto the bed and removed his shirt. As she brought her hands across his chest, she enjoyed the juxtaposition of her bronze skin gliding over his fair coloring. Her moistness increased, and she guided him in removing her shirt. Of a purpose, she had worn simple undergarments – small flowers of modesty covered her nipples and areolas, anchored in place with simple adhesive. It warmed her when he had giggled at the sight. She knew it was easier than some of the other more complicated undergarments she could’ve worn – but the lessons surrounding complex undergarments would come later. After informing him flowers of modesty could be removed by simply peeling them off, they continued his first lesson.

She fully undressed him and released his hard phallus from his trousers. She was very pleased. For a moment, she was wracked with desire, imagining him taking his very pleasing phallus and thrusting into her. Moistness trickled down her thigh as she remembered the first time she had felt the touch of another. What it was like when she had willingly entered into the arena of The Thrust. The awe and inspiration she had felt as her first partner moved slowly with her at first, and then increased his pace. She had felt The Thrust radiate through her whole body, and understood the indelible change.

He was not yet ready for all that yet, so she decided on beginning manually. Naked only from the waist up, she kneeled between his legs and her hands moved deftly on his rigid manhood. Aided by a bit of lubricant, she brought her fingers in long fluid strokes from base to shaft to tip, pre-cum glistening in the opening. He lay still, no doubt taking in the immensity of what was occurring. She could feel the blood pumping through his cock and her breath quickened. The Thrust moved through her as she worked, causing her clitoris to come to attention. Her time would come, but her pleasure at this moment came simply from pleasing him. She worked laboriously on him, impressed by the fact that he had not exploded into orgasm within moments. After an impressive amount of time, she decided it was time to move on.

She ran her hands up his body and took her mouth to his once more, their bodies both slick with desire. Having wanted to feel their bodies move together since the moment she felt his presence, waiting was taking its toll on her. The vasocongestion in her labia was getting unbearable, The Thrust intensifying all of her want to an almost unbearable breaking point. It was frustrating, but she knew her readiness was not necessarily his. There was an enormity for him that was not present for her. Should he be set on the correct path, he would have to give himself over to readiness.

She would wait.

There was one moment when he expressed his readiness, but as she went to apply the protective sheath, she realized the error in their judgment as his erection softened. He had been overconfident – she had not been adequately aware of his progress.

“Don’t be nervous Luke. The Thrust is with you.”

“I can’t. It’s too big.”

She assumed he meant the enormity of the situation. It was time for another lesson.

“Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size do you?”

Straddled across his thighs, in all her naked and resplendent glory, he could give good measure to her size. This lesson he needed to learn well.

He shook his head.

“And well you should not for my ally is The Thrust. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we. You must feel The Thrust around you.”

A look of determination held in his face and she knew he understood. Perhaps before they experimented with the full power of The Thrust, it was time for a different lesson.

She pulled him above her so he could see, and spread her legs wide so he could learn. She ran her hands along her labia and breathed sharply as the sensation travelled through her body. He watched and listened intently as she explained the importance of the clitoris. She instructed him to find it. He ran his tentative hands along her vulva, and found it swiftly. With her guidance, he was able to make pleasure radiate heat along her pelvic floor. She luxuriated in his hands stroking the part of her with the most erogenous potential, and could feel her body releasing even more moisture. She was pleased with his progress. It was time to instruct him on how the inside of a woman responded to touch. His next lesson would be in accessing the G-Spot.

“The approach will not be easy. You’re required to maneuver straight down this trench, and skim the surface to this point. The target area is only two centimeters wide. It’s a small bulbous point, right behind the pubic bone. The shaft leads directly to the reactor system. A precise hit should start a chain reaction which will lead to intense sensation. Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction.”

Taking in everything she had said, Luke attempted to bring his fingers into her wet and desirous pussy, but with the inexperience of his youth, he needed assistance.

“Am I in?”

“Negative. Negative. It didn’t go in; it just impacted on the surface.”

She smiled and remembered how tentative she had been the first time she had been given permission to enter someone with her fingers. She grabbed his hand, and helped him inside. Once there, his fingers were talented and he soon found her G-Spot. The come-hither motion she had proscribed was working wonders for her. Her hips gyrated on his fingers and her voice, husky with arousal, portrayed her gratitude for her pupil’s rapid knowledge acquisition. Knowing that an orgasm achieved too quickly would put her out of commission, she reluctantly pulled his fingers out of her and planted a long grateful kiss on his soft, desire swollen lips.

They played shortly with the erotic potential provided by the skin, but Luke Skywalker’s phallus was straining with blood. There was a sense in her that it was time.

“Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker.”

She rolled the protective sheath over his phallus, and lay on her back.

“Concentrate. Feel The Thrust flow.”

Heat radiated off his body, and she placed her hand on his phallus, guiding him into her. Although this was for him, it was glorious for her after so much time without having felt the touch of another. His pace was slow and rhythmic – he was in no hurry. He plunged into her repeatedly, and she wrapped her legs around him, allowing for a deeper penetration. She had been right, they did fit well together. Not wanting to frighten him with the full force of her pleasure, she only allowed small moans escape from her lips into his ear. He moved inside her in calm, languorous strokes, until the sensation overtook him and wracked his body with orgasm.

Slick with sweat, he pulled out of her.

“How was it?”

“Incredible.”

While he moved to the bathing space to collect himself, she asked the C3 droid the hour. It was 11:59p. Before the hour turned, she recorded a message for Debbers the Ewok.

“Happy Luke Skywalker Day.”

It seemed an appropriate message. Had Debbers not come through in that clutch situation, all would have been lost.

He returned and they enjoyed the comfort of the bed, while she relayed to him lessons of proper cuddling and pillow-talk. The rest of the night was spent alternatively in rest and in training. Grooming techniques. Showers. Pick-up etiquette. Erogenous zones. Touch. Nipples. Lubricant.

As the sun rose over their space, she wanted to ensure that he would get one more experience of being inside her.

As morning sex goes, it started slow. Lazy, gentle kisses; their bodies still waking. She runs her hand lightly across his cock, and his body shudders with pleasure and anticipation. She caresses and guides him and allows the anticipation to build. Finally, the draw of The Thrust makes it so that she can no longer wait.

“Do you want to be inside me?”

“Yes.”

This time, they use the sheaths he had made while in isolation. Trojan in construction. She should have warned him. She should have told him to learn and follow the Lifestyles, or even Durex, sheath styles. Although the Trojan style had flashy appearance, the thickness was cumbersome and had a tendency to rip lubrication away, interfering with the transmission of sensation.

But a Trojan sheath they used – some lessons must be learned through experience. He penetrates her. From above, his hips pushing into her. From behind, his hands placed firmly on her hips. At one point she pushed herself on top of him, breasts pendulous and swollen. She moved his hands to her nipples, and he provided resistance for her to thrust against. As his vigor subsides, she gives him permission to come.

He can’t. The sheath is too thick. After the hours and hours of stimulation, her vulva is full to bursting with blood, and although his pleasure is important to her, she needs a release as well. It is time for his final lesson.

She pulls out her vibration droid, and prompts Luke to touch her. Having learned much about bodies earlier in the night, he pulls on her nipples as she places the vibration droid on her clit. While she expected that it would be Luke who would come quickly, it turned out it would be she who would get pushed over the edge with the quickness of a 21 year old virgin. She requests his fingers inside her, and with the expertise of one long trained in The Thrust, he locates her G-Spot.

The pleasure is raw and almost unbearable in its intensity. Not longer than 30 seconds after his fingers entered her, her orgasm began. He continued to caress her G-Spot and The Thrust pervaded her body, pleasure overtaking in her in waves. With the combined force of his surprisingly deft fingers and the vibration droid on her clit, she allowed the orgasm to flow through her for at least 45 seconds. She could have maintained her climax longer, but was afraid to overwhelm young Skywalker with the full capabilities of her body.

Female ejaculation came much, much later in the training.

She stopped her orgasm short, and pushed his fingers out of her.

“You’ve learned much, young one.”

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

She smiled deeply.

Her satisfaction and reverie would be short lived. She felt another tremor in The Thrust. Vader was near, and with a sense of calm, she knew she would have to face her former pupil to save her current one.

She began to dress and informed the C3 droid of her plans, complete with instructions for Luke.

When she returned to the bed, Luke was standing near it, only in his undergarments. She kissed him, hard, on the mouth, knowing she would probably never see him again.

It was time for one last lesson.

“A Jedi’s strength flows from The Thrust. But beware of the Dark Side. Anger, fear, aggression – The dark side of The Thrust are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path … it will dominate your destiny. Consume you it will.”

He nodded.

“And remember, The Thrust is with you, young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet.”

She wrapped her arms around him, planting one last lingering kiss on his lips, and walked out of the room.

It was time to face her destiny.

********************************************************************

Brenna Morsan faced Vader and lost.

Luke Skywalker escaped the moment she was slain.

Her sacrifice would inspire Luke to redouble his efforts in his apprenticeship of The Thrust.

He would fly in a Rebel attack against the Empire and use The Thrust to destroy the Life Star.

He would become an extremely powerful Jedi – steeped deeply in the light side of The Thrust.

He would go on to face Vader and the Emporer – and win.

The galaxy would rejoice in orgiastic reverie.