DisIntercourses

Condoms, Condoms Everywhere!

2007-11-25T18:49:00.000-08:00

So it was a big bash at The House the day after Thanksgiving. Lots of food, plenty of alcohol, and lots of friends, both old and new. This evening the particular distraction of choice was a game the roommates and I had been talking about for a while - Condom Poker.

Now, there are two options for playing this game. One is to assign different chip values depending on different attributes of the condoms - red packages, black packages, etc. The other is to just go one-for-one... each condom is worth one unit of betting. The evening was quite the success - although I would reccomend more than 12 units as a starting value - we had 8 players and ended up "resetting" a few times by redisributing the condoms, just to keep the game going

If you don't feel like spending plenty of money, you can actually get mixed bags of condoms from Planned Parenthood - usually for $1 or $2 for a good 10-20 condoms.

Of course, part of the fun of this is actually getting new condoms to try out and have fun with. I've got quite the quiver of new ones to try out, and on the roommate's suggestion will review the new ones as they are used. For comparison, my usual condom is the Durex Extra Sensitive - in the purple package. I avoid condoms lubricated with Nonoxonyl 9 because one of my usual partners is allergic.

That very evening, my partner and I tried the Kimono condom with Aqua Lube - distributed by Mayer Labs in Oakland. Red foil package, usually avilable in adult stores instead of your usual grocery store. Standard packaging was easy to open in the heat of the moment. The condom itself is a little thick, moreso than even "usual" condoms, but also seemed very sturdy. It still transmitted heat and friction and such pretty well, and seemed to roll on fairly easily.

The lube included on the condom was also decent for vaginal sex. No word yet on the usefulness for anal - although the sturdy nature of this condom would lend itself very well to that particular activity. Taste is pretty standard, but not disgusting.

Worth a try if you want something fairly sturdy. It comes reccomended by the clerks at my favorite store, and while I'm not going to say it's an AMAZING condom, it will stand up to some pretty damn athletic sex.

The Breakfast Standard

2007-11-19T10:05:00.000-08:00

I tend to have a very simple end-all standard for who I will or will not play with - I ask myself one simple question. Would I like to have breakfast with this person?

I got this standard from The Slut. Before then, I didn't really have an articulated standard. She, however, planted this idea in my head at the time lots of my other ideas about sex were morphing and changing. And for the most part, this standard has served me very well.

There has been a lot of discussion in my house about the meaning and usefulness of this standard. I live with two boys - one gay boy whose standards tend to be more flexible than mine, and one straight boy who will purposefully go years without a bed buddy while waiting for someone it feels "right" with.

Don't get me wrong - for all of my belief in openness about sexuality, I am a firm believer that everyone should have the right and the freedom to choose their own. Whatever it may be. Want to wait until you're married to The One, and only ever do it with the lights off and the covers pulled over both of you? If both of you are into it, then more power to you. Want to sleep with a new person every night, and two on Saturdays? Do it safely, and maintain your mental health, and go for it.

The point is - standards are not one-size-fits-all. Or even one size fits most adults.

The breakfast standard seems to be a good one. It indicates that I actually enjoy talking to a person enough that the 1/2 hour or so of conversation over scrambled eggs would not be painful. It also indicates I wouldn't mind looking at them enough to make the eye contact of conversation. It also indicates that if they woke up in my bed, or visa versa, I wouldn't be scared and tempted to gnaw my arm off.

There's only been once I broke this standard. It was one of the two times I went home with someone from the bar. The highlights of this evening included:

Falling off the bed. Twice. Both times, I was in such a position I couldn't stop us from falling, and we went literally head over heels. I had bruises the next morning, and not the good kind.

The "whoops, sorry, I aimed wrong" excuse. I'm actually mildly into back door activities (not to put too fine a point on it) but you don't just spring that on someone with no warning, no making sure it's ok, and NO LUBE. BAD idea dude... -30 points and no invitation back.

Waking up to find a giant rosary on the wall. Literally giant. As in the crucifix was a good 2 feet across. Yeeek. Not what one wants to see after an evening of fairly bad sex.

He didn't get my number, didn't get a second chance, or even get morning nookie.

The flipside is, when you do fit that standard, and especially if you happen to be lucky enough to be in my home, then you do get breakfast... I'll make you toast from homemade bread, scrambled eggs, maybe even throw in some bacon or sausage.

No matter how cavalierly you choose to approach it, sex can be and is somehow intimate. Food is as well - there is a reason many very conservative religions have strict rules about both. And if I'm not willing to share my table, then I can't picture myself sharing my bed.

Drunk

2007-11-03T00:15:00.000-07:00

I'm very drunk. I'm going to get laid when I go to bed. And I feel guilty about it because my best friend may not be. This probably means my lessons in being selfish aren't going so well....

At the same time, there is so much to be said for knowing I'm getting some tonight. I wouldn't give it up. Unless it assured the best friend a lifetime of happiness. Ah, if only life were that simple.

Drunk sex = slightly contemplitive, but mostly into it. Yay.

Tall Woman

2007-10-30T13:32:00.000-07:00

The questions I hear
Because I am fairly obvious, in some online circles, about my height and size, every once in a while I get a horny net geek of some flavor asking me 10000 questions specifically about my height and or size. They always try to be "subtle" and it never works. Today as I was humoring another one of these, I realized I've answered most of these questions many many many times.

Mostly I answer them because they aren't really personally identifiable, and I recognize that there are curious people. There are questions I won't answer, but that's usually determined by how nice someone has been to me and/or what kind of a mood I'm in as opposed to the question itself.

However, for those of you who are really *that* interested in fetishizing height - here's the top 10 or so questions I usually get asked.

1- How tall are you?
Six foot four inches. On a good day.

2- No, how tall are you really?
What reason did I have to lie to you in the first place? Do you think I tell people I'm six four just for the hell of it? Because I think it will be fun? Since "how tall are you" is usually the opening line of the hng, it's tempting to lie. However, at this point, I'm willing to entertain the idea that perhaps they are another tall woman looking to talk shop. That, and I tend to not lie. It's not my thing. So don't insult me by assuming that the first two lines of conversation I have with you are a lie.

3- Do you like being that tall?
What kind of question is this. It's not like being tall is the one controlling factor of my life, 24-7. Sure, some days I love it. Other days I hate it. I've never known anything different- I've been "taller" than most my age for as long as I can remember.

4- What size shoes do you wear?
This is usually where I separate those that are interested in my feet from those interested in my height. Or even if it's someone who is just curious, it's also usually where I start getting frustrated and annoyed. I wear big shoes. Yes, I have to special-order them. Yes, I have to go to drag-queen-supply vendors to actually buy some of my best shoes and boots.

5- What's the tallest heel you wear?
Again, why the hell does it really matter? Five and a half inches, if you have to know. Yes, I like wearing those shoes.

6- Would you date a shorter man?
At this point, I'm assuming you're a horny net geek for a thing with tall women. Nothing wrong with that, but damn, talk about reducing yourself down to one thing. Does being shorter define your life? Do you like people peppering you with questions about nothing but the one unusual physical characteristic about you, then saying "but would you date someone like that"? Sorry, unless you're paying me a significant amount of money, I'm going to forever remain a multi-dimensional human being.
And when it comes to those I have been with (the entire range from committed relationship to one night stand, both men and women) most have been shorter than me. I'd get significatnly less play if I insisted that everyone be taller than me. This doesn't mean I'm going to "date" (however you define that) you, the creep asking me this question.

7- Do you play basketball?
I'm not even going add validity to this question by offering an answer.

8- I am (insert height measurement here) tall. Where on you would I come up to?
This seems to be a gentle way of asking "would I be looking directly at your chest? Since that's where you'd be looking at anyway, the answer doesn't really matter.

9- Would you bend down to kiss someone?
Not you. Not after playing 20-questions. (OK, there was that one game of twenty questions at a party... but that was the fun kind. And I wasn't the only one answering questions.)

10- What's your inseam?
Ah, the ones with a thing for long legs. Or the ones who want me to keep talking but don't know what else to ask. It's longer than most women's pants. Enough said.

11- Would you...
Oh god. I get such a list of things under this one. Some of the samplings (and I am not joking about a single one of these) are:
~stomp on bugs with big heels?
~kick over your head?
~wrap your legs around (insert body part here)?
~send me pictures of your feet?
~send me pictures of your legs?
~send me pictures of etc etc etc
~look over the bathroom stall door at me?

The list goes on.

The point is, be nice, treat me like a human, and get to know me, and I'll probably happily answer any of your questions and/or indulge your weird fantasies. I am tall, I usually like it, and I find it oddly powerful at times. This doesn't mean I like to play 20 questions about it all the freaking time.

Get it? Got it? Good.

Two Hours

2007-10-24T15:09:00.001-07:00

Two hours of pure sex.

I'm not talking foreplay.

I'm not talking the after-cuddling.

I'm not even talking about the orgasms beforehand.

I'm talking about two hours of pounding-the-headboard, gripping-the-pillow, making-the-legs-go-numb, forget-it-grab-the-lube, bend-me-over, pull-my-hair, kissing-every-inch, I'm-cumming-again, can't-walk, bruised-in-the-morning, lets-try-this, vibrating-limbs, pure sex.

There are many reasons having a more-than-once bed buddy can be good. One of them is nights like that, the nights that wear you out so much that you're still too worn out to have a morning quickie when the alarm goes off (damn it).

Yes, it is possible to have nights like that with one-night stands. But they are much less likely. They are also much less awkward with more-than-one-nighters, since lines like "uhmmm... my leg is numb... you're going to have to help me roll off you" much more funny.

And they make a girl realize why she puts up with the scheit of everyday dating life.

Props for consideration

2007-10-08T18:18:00.000-07:00

Story related from a good male friend of mine (relayed with permission):

After breaking up with my boyfriend, I ended up having a threesome. The next few days after, I discovered that I'd contracted scabies along the way somewhere. In the USA, the treatment options for this are very limited, and very expensive. However, living only a few hours from Tijuana, it is possible to buy medications that are prescription-only in the USA over the counter and cheaply. A roadtrip later, I came home with enough medication for everyone.

I have to say, I give this friend props for his handling of this situation for two major reasons - one, that he was nice enough to pick up the treatment for everyone involved. Two , that he actually had phone numbers to call and say "I may have given you something, but hey, take this." It's more consideration than most would ever show.

Glossary: Munch and Snowball

2007-10-06T14:32:00.000-07:00

I've noticed that the search engines seem to be sending traffic my way via searches that include the words "what is" or "how to". For this reason, I'm introducing a Glossary feature to help explain some of the search terms that show up more often and/or I get asked about. Want to see something specific? Email your question to this blog name at Gmail.

Munch
This term can be used in many different situations, with many different definitions. However, as I usually use it and as most kinksters use it, it means a BDSM and/or kink and/or swingers meetup. These are NOT Play Parties, where comparatively dirty stuff happens, but rather a casual lunch meetup of some kind. They are usually held in public places (although a semi-private area or back room), and fetish wear is usually discouraged. Going to just see what it's all about is encouraged- it's the non-threatening, non-scary way to meet people into something other than "vanilla."
I've yet to see a place that doesn't have a munch of some kind within an hour's drive, and most of the time they seem to be held on a regular basis - once a month or two.

Snowball
A "snowball" is a move during oral sex - sometimes people are into these, sometimes not. It's best to check first with your partner before doing it.
The nuts and bolts of this move: when your male partner is about to orgasm, make sure a large portion of the ejaculate gets into your mouth. Do NOT swallow or spit. Kiss your partner, full-on-the-mouth French, and pass the ejaculate into their mouth.
Like I said, some are into this, some are not. So check first!

Spit or Swallow?

2007-10-03T22:07:00.000-07:00

I was discussing this particular question with TheSlut and TBFLV. It seems that there are very few people that do not have a strong opinion one way or the other on this issue. You're either a spit person or a swallow person.

I can see the issue from both sides, honestly. I know more than one person who must spit. If they don't, they throw up. Now, perhaps there is a deeper physical reason for this- the way their tastebuds react, texture, maybe even the salt content of a guy's cum. No matter why, it is better for them to find a convenient sink, car window, empty drinking glass, or tossed-aside piece of clothing to spit into. While I've never had this problem, I can see how some might. What angers me are the male partners that get angry about this. It isn't anything personal. If someone was willing to have you ejaculate is his/her/their general direction, there's a pretty damn good chance it's not a personal issue. They just don't want to throw it all up over you. So let the poor boy/girl/person spit already. Even rinse their mouth if they need to.

On the other side are the swallowers. I am one of these people. Of course, assuming that the person I am with is getting a blowjob without a condom (which means I trust pretty well that they are disease-free), then I rather enjoy the taste of success. Not to mention that cleanup is usually much simpler for a swallower. However, all those swallowers out there that immediately expect your partner to be ok with a full-on French kiss after you've taken a nice swig of their cum - check with them first. Not everyone enjoys even a small snowball. If you're the partner of a swallower, especially if you asked them to, then please don't treat your partner as if they just did something disgusting. Requesting they at least rinse is fine, but don't demand they get up and do it RIGHT THEN. They probably put in some significant work - so let them relax for a few minutes. Or better yet, return the favor.

The point is, no matter if you spit or swallow, it should be enjoyed on both sides, and it's not a preference easily changed. If you're one of the few who does/can cross both sides of this, leave a comment, I'd love to hear why you stand where you do and which you prefer.

Why Geeks Rock

2007-09-30T19:41:00.000-07:00

I admit, I have a thing for geeks. Some consider this odd, but to be honest, giving your local geek (the type that still shower, at least) a chance could be the best thing you ever do for your sexual sanity. Why, do you ask? Personal experience. Still don't trust me? Here's a few reasons:

1- Ability
Most geeks, yours truly included, have an interesting habit when it comes to the human compulsion to think about sex a lot. Instead of wasting the brain power on useless trains of thoght, we read up. Geeks train up. Read erotic stories. Read blogs. Imagine new positions and new ways to do naughty things to others. All this learning, when put to use, makes for a better-than-average lay, including interesting techniques and positions. For example- male partner (or partner A, if two guys are involved) straddling the female (partner B) across her torso above the waist. Partner B propped on a pillow, while partner A is sitting up. B gives A oral while partner A uses one hand for support and one hand to stimulate partner B. It can take some maneuvering to get the angles right, but worth it.

2- SmartSex.
Geeks are willing to use protection. Not only are they willing, but "hey, is it OK if I grab a condom?" is the ultimate question- asking both if you're OK with where things are going and signaling their intention. I have yet to meet a geek who will get angry or frustrated about being safe. Usually, they also carry their own protection, "just in case".

3- Not perfect? No Problem.
So you weren't expecting to get laid that night. So you forgot to shave your legs that morning. So you wore the ugly underwear because it's laundry day. So your sheets aren't perfectly made, and there are a few dirty dishes in your sink. A proper geek understands! Life happens and the impression you make on others isn't your 24-7 concern. Little stuff like this isn't an immediate deal-breaker like it would be for some. This also naturally leads into Morning Sex, one of the BEST ways to wake up.

4- Cuddling.
Geeks cuddle. This is because human touch can be at a premium for someone who talks about something other than the latest Survivor episode at the water cooler. The cuddling is usually the huggy, touchy, kissing-the-shoulder, stroking-the-hair kind of cuddling too, not the "fine, I'll let you lay on my arm" kind.

5- Decent conversation.
This should be self-explanatory. Geeks can and will talk about a very wide range of things even while trying to pick you up - or over breakfast in the morning.

6- Attentiveness
Geeks usually don't get laid every night. They are also usually good people who actually care about others. Add these two things up and you've got a bed buddy that will pay attention to what you like and want. You say something like "I enjoy it when you tug my hair" and they will actually grab a handful and gently tug. Say "I like deep kisses" and you'll have a deep kiss or twelve. I'm not saying geeks are wish-fulfillment machines, but they don't treat you like a piece of meat for nothing but their own enjoyment.

I could go on, but my point is - when you encounter someone who could be called a geek, but has enough social grace or balls to at least say hi - give them a chance. You'll miss out if you don't!

Trying it again

2007-09-29T01:02:00.000-07:00

Everyone has that One. No no no, not The One, but the one person they've always intended to sleep with but never have for one reason or another. Mine happens to be The Boy From Las Vegas.

TBFLV and I have known each other, literally, for years. The first time we met we were both young enough to not do *all* that much, but old enough to feel dirty for taking our shirts off, skipping class, and kissing passionately while pushing up against a wall.

However, since I lived Not In Las Vegas, when we parted ways, we kept in touch but didn't see each other. Two years later, he visited my hometown. More dirty stuff happened, but I still wasn't ready to have sex. At this age, this was the right decision. There was, however, a hot moment in the hot tub I almost gave in. I was floating, holding onto the edge when he submerged himself and came up... right between my legs. Still, though, it didn't happen, and we parted ways again.

It was another three years before I visited Vegas. I had the hotel room, the condoms, and the drive. What ruined this perfect situation? I was on my period. And while I know one can have sex during that week, I was crampy, miserable, and really did not want to end up having lost my virginity in a miserable mood. So instead we had some very hot times in the gorgeous shower... and showers still get me horny as hell if I let them.

It's now been 4 years since we last saw each other. We've both lost our virginity quite assuredly, and we are still good friends... If it doesn't happen, he's still a friend I very much care for and it will change very little, if anything. If it does happen, then it will probably still change little, but it will be fun :)

I'm sorry, I got my definition all over you...

2007-09-29T00:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while due to injury. Enough said.

One of the most frustrating things about any interaction between two (or three, or four, or more) people is the natural urge we all have to Name The Relationship. Sociologially and psychologically this makes sense- it not only gives an immediate way to associate people that are in front of you or being talked about, but it also gives a fairly basic set of social rules with which to define how you interact with people. If someone is introduced as a "roommate" they'll probably be treated very differently than if they were introduced as "my pastor."

Sometimes this naming is easy - "this is my friend" or "this is my sister's husband."

Other times, it gets more complicated. For example: is there really a term for the man you've known for years and are close to, have always intended to sleep with, but still haven't, but might just do sometime?

Or what about the guy you only kind of know in Everyday Life, but in the kink/swingers groups hang out with constantly and have messed around with?

Or the woman you lived with, haven't messed around with, but have indirectly shared several partners (including exes, significant others, and one-night stands) with?

The point is, sometimes "friend" just doesn't cover it.

Two Responses (and their consequences)

2007-09-12T14:09:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of ways people often choose to respond during banter or a disagreement that they often think will stop the conversation short. And while I don't ALWAYS have to get the last word in, there are two responses that I've come to keep close to the top of my arsenal.

The first is fairly simple. If someone sticks their tongue out at you - then a quick "don't stick that out unless you intend to use it" will often not only stop the argument, but has been known several times in the past to lead to an immediate french kiss - or more.

Example - laying in bed in the afterglow, I happened to make a statement to my partner that she certainly finished quickly, and I took that as a compliment to my skills rather than a comment on her desire to get to class on time. She stuck her tongue out- and after being told to use it she decided that the best way to use it would be to work her way down between my legs... and neither of us happened to make it to class that morning. Whoops :-D

The second requires a more delicate approach. When someone chooses to respond with the time honored "F you", then one must A-judge the situation for just HOW angry they are, and B-if appropriate (or sometimes when not) ask - "Is that an offer or a promise, darlin'"? Substitute your favorite term for "darlin'" if you so desire, but often, this particular question not only takes them off guard, but diffuses a situation quickly.

Example - a particular drag queen that tends to be rather antagonistic towards me decided one night to pull out the "F you". When the question was presented, she stopped short. And while I may not have gotten any that night, the male friend I was with later informed me that it was an offer - just once removed. Perhaps not the MOST successful on my part, but once-removed success still counts.

So, next time you're presented with a "conversation ending" moment, but a signature DisIntercourses spin on the moment and see what happens.

The One Demographic I Cannot Fulfill

2007-09-12T09:27:00.000-07:00

Hanging out at Gay Bar this last weekend, playing wingwoman for a friend. He was off on the dance floor dancing away with someone, and the couple I'd been talking to from a nearby large city had left. Because it was fairly late, I planted myself by the pool table and planned on settling in for at least another hour or so of people-watching.

Now, usually, I don't get hit on in the gay bars. The lesbians aren't really my flavor, or perhaps I'm not theirs. I'm missing particular bits that would make me attractive to gay boys. Therefore, I usually amuse myself by people-watching and joking around with the drag queens.

That night, however, a guy playing pool actually started talking to me. He was decently attractive, and seemed nice enough. I assumed, at first, he was just being friendly and saying hello. However, when he kept chatting and making the semi-obvious comments about where he was spending the night, I realized that he was chatting me up. Yay! Talk about a confidence booster on one of the worst "fat days" I've had in a long while.

I, of course, sat in a way my cleavage was obvious. I judged if I'd have to kick him out of bed that night or in the morning. About an hour in, I had to excuse myself to go the the ladies room- and told him I'd be right back.

When I got back, however, he looked a bit confused. When I sat back down, he looked very intently at my chest (which, considering the shirt I was wearing, is entirely justifiable) then said "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were *actually* a woman. Have a good night" and promptly walked off.

Exiting the bar, I saw him chatting up the queen that is a similar height and built in a similar weight range. (Over six feet and well-padded.) I realize that this blog doesn't (and won't) show pictures - but I assure you, I do NOT look like a drag queen unless I wear a pound of makeup - which I simply don't. And my DD bras are well-filled, thank you very much.

Hey, at least I know I was *almost* his type. Minus that whole being-mistaken-for-a-drag-queen bit.

Here's to the booty call

2007-08-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

There is something really damn sexy about sleeping up. I'm not talking about standing up, I'm talking about getting down and dirty with someone entirely out of your league. Part of it is the thrill of the chase, part of it is the knowledge that something about you this person finds attractive. A hell of a lot of it is that it helps a girl feel damn good about herself.

I am lucky enough to have someone "out of my league" that I've got a semi-regular thing with. And by semi-regular, I mean we get together probably once every 18 months. Little things like international travel, girlfriends, boyfriends, or 350-mile driving distances tend to get in our way. Every time we see each other, I have to remind myself that he is, in fact, there to see ME- and do the kind of nasty things that one usually only sees in videos brought home in black plastic bags.

Usually I'm not a fan of the idea of "leagues" but I openly admit they exist. It's a part of our lizard brains that we unconsciously still pay attention to. Physically, socially, this guy is everything that shouldn't be attracted to me. While he's not THE BEST I've ever had in bed (although he is the second largest), he is DAMN good, and usually even considerate. He's the type always willing to try new things, never has a problem with a long extended kiss, tells me what he likes (guys, take note, this is something most of you suck at), and makes sure I am enjoying myself just as much if not more. He talks dirty in bed and holds decent before and after conversation.

And, to top it off, when he spends the night, *he* actually insists that there is cuddling. Of course there are things about him that I don't like - but who cares?

There is a definite benefit to the kind of booty call you can call up and say "I need a weekend of getting laid, I have a hotel room in your city, when will you be over?" and their reaction is "give me an hour to shower and I will see you and your gorgeous body soon".

Sometimes a girl has to treat herself. You will most likely hear more about ST in the future, and more specific stories (exhibitionism, bondage, torture, and one of the greatest O's I've ever had, just to start) - but here's to the close-to-ideal booty call.

Sorry kids, a kiss is NOT a contract!

2007-08-28T11:26:00.000-07:00

So I was in a gas station at two in the morning the other day, dressed in my red corset, garters, thigh-highs, boyshort underwear, and four-inch stiletto heels. No, I do not usually do this, we had just gotten out of Rocky Horror Picture Show and a friend needed to stop for cigarettes. It was even the gas station across from the theater, so they had an idea of what was going on.

Into the gas station walks a guy that, about six weeks ago, I had made out with a bit in a bar. I'm not talking "take me home now" making out, I'm talking about "you're cute and I'm a bit tipsy so why not" making out. He wasn't entirely my type, but he seemed nice enough, and possibly worth a one-night or one-weekend stand. I did call him once, but his mom answered the phone and either he never called back or he never got the message. Either way, I'd pretty much forgotten about him.

Until he walked into that gas station. First, he stared at me (sure, considering the outfit a legitimate reaction.) Then he walked up until he was about 2 inches from my face and said "why the fuck didn't you call?" To which I honestly responded, while backing up, that I had called and he had never returned said call. Then he announced to all that were listening that I was "his girl" and that he "owned this girl." I'm not talking about in a joking or sarcastic voice either - he introduced me to the rest of his group as and only as "his girl."

At this point, I basically gave him the cold shoulder. Physically turned around, didn't look at him, and simply said "I'm sorry, not me, but have a good night." To which he responded by threatening several times to "spank [me] right here and now", including raising his arm up as if he were about to. When I didn't respond, he got into my face and started insisting that I "Look at him NOW!" I glanced over and turned away, and he seemed to partially get the message.

Until we were leaving. For a few seconds, he seemed as if he were trying to get me to either come with him or he was going to get into the car with us. Either way, he just didn't seem to get the idea that I had NO desire to interact with him that way.

I don't have many doubts about my ability to take care of myself in general, but I admit I was glad to have friends with me there - I wouldn't have put it past this guy to push me up against the car had I been alone. This is why I don't play the bar scene much - you never know who you're getting - and this was a side of this guy I most certainly did NOT see the night I got his number.

I was firmly convinced the idea of kiss-as-contract went out in high school. Silly me.

Dear Bettie Paige Look-alike

2007-08-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

You were cute-drunk the other night. It was fun drunk, though, and you seemed to be enjoying yourself. You caught my eye first, or rather, stole a random fry off my plate first, but I was OK with that - you were worth catching my eye. Then your husband didn't react badly when I started flirting with him. You both looked like you were having an enjoyable time watching the show. I figured that would be the end of it.

Then, he kept flirting with me. A little touch on the shoulder here. A wink there. Eating fries right out of my hand (quite literally). I was about ready to take one or both of you home - or at least out back! When he left to get you two your own food, you and I chatted a bit - and you told me you don't get out or have fun very often for very good reasons.

Then, all too soon, you both left. It was very early in the morning but very late at night. You had to get home to responsibilities (and hopefully a not-too-bad hangover). There was a hug, a few whispered questions... but alas, it was not to work out. I wish it had.

Even though it didn't work out, I hope to see you again in three months when you treat yourself to going out again. You give me hope - that a larger, but damn sexy woman can find a wonderful, flirty, really-darn-attractive guy that wants to sleep with you on a regular basis. That won't freak out about someone else hitting on both of you.

And hey, if you two decide you're looking to play with a third, I would jump on that offer (pun intended) in two seconds flat.

Mr. Fuzzy

2007-08-25T10:45:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to connect with the community in My City after I moved here, I tracked down and went to a few munches. For those of you out there who are not familiar with that term, it's basically a lunch/coffee/meeting where "like minded" kinksters meet - usually for BDSM, but any and all kinks and/or interests are welcome.

Munches are not a small, dark back room where you have to know the secret knock on the door and password. Usually they're in a somewhat secluded area of a public restaurant, and very friendly. That, however, is beside the point to this particular story.

At the munch in My City that I attended, I was one of the first people there. The other person there was a guy about my age (as in, under 40) that seemed fairly chatty and friendly. We chatted a bit as others filtered in. Turns out most of this group were very hardcore lifestylers over the age or close to the age of 40. Not really my group, but it's always good to know others there.

So when group-wide introductions come around, Mr. Fuzzy starts talking about how he is a "Fuzzy**"- a person who likes to emulate an animal. Admittedly something I had not heard of before, but interesting. After the munch he and I were out in the parking lot chatting, and despite my best efforts to make my goodbyes, he does the following-me-still-talking thing for a good 20 minutes. Mostly talking about how he wants to wear his purple fox outfit while getting laid. I could tell from the direction he was going that he wanted me to be the other party in this fantasy.

I told him it wasn't my kink. Not a bad thing, but not my kink. If I had been at all attracted to him, maybe, possibly, I could put up with that, but I simply wasn't. However, no matter how many times I said "I'll see you next month." and "good luck finding someone for that" and "that's just not what I'm into" he managed to not get the idea. Listen, if that's what you're into, cool. But if someone says "that's not my kink" and "no thanks" then you should get the hint and let it rest! They're not into it, and you should respect that, just as they should respect that you ARE into it.

Besides, I can only imagine the places I would have found fake purple fur for the week after- and that's just not a pleasant thought.

**Note - people into this are also known as "Furries"

How to (ac)count?

2007-08-24T15:00:00.000-07:00

Alright, I know I can't be the only person out there with this problem. When I encounter the dreaded "how many sexual partners" question on medical forms, from friends, or when I'm looking to simply renew my birth control prescription, the answer is so much more complicated than a simple number.

First, is the question of who, exactly, they consider a "sexual partner." If it's penetration, that's one thing. If it's mutual touching of naughty bits, that's another. If it's touching at all, that's a third. Then you have the question of limits. I mean, by the technical definition of "intercourse" anything I do with another woman is out. Unless there's a strap-on involved?

Then, you have the Clerks-like question of where does oral sex, both given and received, fall in? Then what about the group situations? For example, if I'm on the bed, with one person eating me out, one person playing with my top half, another kissing me, and one person supporting each of my legs and watching, how exactly does one propose I "count" that?

Or, if there is more than a year between hookups with the same person?

Or, what if you hook up with someone pre-gender reassignment surgery, and then post?

I admit, I've considered an Excel sheet. I do have a list that is 80% mental, 20% randomly jotted notes in a carefully-guarded notebook. I know full well I am far from the most active person out there. But that dreaded single-number question gives no wiggle room and no room for explanation. I'm not trying to weasel out of what I've actually done - I'm just trying to figure out how to answer that damnable question!

Mr. Wasabi

2007-08-23T14:54:00.000-07:00

Mr. Wasabi was one I met off a Craigslist ad. He seemed nice enough, said a few interesting things, and willingly provided a photo that proved he was at least close to the age/gender he was claiming to be. We agreed on going out for drinks, and we'd go from there, depending on chemistry.

I let him choose the place for drinks - probably my first mistake. His choice was a giant sports bar / casino / restaurant. Admittedly easy to find, and the interior, once we got into the bar, wasn't bad - your usual green and gold, TV's everywhere place.

He spent the first hour of having drinks telling me how he'd chosen this place so he could "not miss out on the game" while we chatted. Then he asked me 40 questions about myself, ranging from how I felt about family to how I ended up in My City. Whenever I asked him about himself, it was the same story - that he's neurotic (his word) about family and about organizing things. He also brought up going to sushi at least once every 20 minutes.

Finally, after he's gone through a pitcher-plus of beer, he says we should actually go get sushi. I figured why not, maybe once his eyes are off the TV things will get better. We had driven separately, and he tells me I should just "follow his car."

(Sidenote- driving immediately after a full pitcher of beer - especially when you just told your date you have gotten 2 DUI's in the last 14 months - probably not a good idea.)

So we get to sushi, get seated, order, etc. The conversation starts getting a little weirder. He is asking me exactly how kinky I am, what I'm into, and what all I've done. It's not like I hide these things, but he's asking like he expects me to happily invite him and his 10 closest guy friends to a gangbang. Not going to happen, based on what he's said/done thus far.

Later, when the food comes, and he continues drinking, he says the thing that killed the date. He leans over and asks me if I realize that wasabi is a great condiment, because it "increases bloodflow." I commented anything spicy would do that, and then he says "I want to put wasabi in your snatch."

I barely survived the rest of the date without running out, and promptly deleted his phone number out of my phone. I may be kinky, but that just sounds painful - and not the good kind of pain. That's the kind of thing you ease a long-term girlfriend into after three or four dates, minimum, not bring up right away.

DisIntercourses

2007-08-23T11:00:00.000-07:00

The simple fact is, being a single, bisexual, kinky, bigger-than-size-two, arguably confident girl in the Western US means you have adventures (and not always the good kind) in sex, sexuality, hooking up, and getting laid. Of course, the names of the not-so-innocent should always be protected (a lady never kisses and tells) but some of these stories are just so hilarious they have to be told.

Why DisIntercourses? Because this is discourse. About intercourse. Because sometimes the stories are Interesting. Sometimes they are Disbelievable.

No names will be used in this blog, only letters or given names that may or may not correspond to the actual person being discussed. No topic is taboo, and comments are welcomed although monitored closely - just like in real life, Spam does not belong in my private areas!

Most of these stories will be what actually happened to me. A few will be from those near-and-dear to me. If you feel you have a story to contribute, feel free to email this blog name at gmail and it may be posted as a guest entry.

So read through. Send an email if you have a question about anything in particular. And enjoy DisIntercourses.