SexyPrime, a blog by Susan Crain Bakos

IT'S KIMMIE WEDNESDAY! And The Perfect Storm Continues...

I don't know about you, but I don't want the Perfect Storm to end.  It is too perfect.

Kimmie and Lindsey (our IT genius behind the scenes) and Mary (SexyPrime's godmother at Quiver Books) and I all wish you a happy Thanksgiving, even if you don't live in the U.S.

We are grateful to you for reading SexyPrime.

 

 

There were many, many nights to follow, each one with its own crazy memorable moments. There was The Night He Sang, when he blasted classic rock, singing along as he fucked her, like he was at his job, singing away as he worked. There was The Night on the Roof, which left her covered in black tar in hard-to-reach spots that took an hour to clean thoroughly. There was The Night They Kept His Roommate Awake, which they actually weren’t aware of until the morning when they got up and found him asleep on the couch with a tower of pillows over his head to block out the noise.

 

And then there was The Night that Started Out Innocently Enough.

 

She was out with some friends, playing pool and having a few beers. They were good friends that she hadn’t seen in a while, so it was extra-special to have time with them, because it hadn’t happened lately. They were in the middle of their third or fourth game when she got the first text.

 

“I am horny. I want to fuck your mouth.”

 

She smiled to herself but ignored it, content to be with her friends. Mmm, poor boy, she thought to herself. It’s going to be a rough night for him. They were playing nine-ball, and she lined up her shot. An image of his naked body coming toward her with his cock out popped into her head.

 

She blocked the picture in her mind and prepared to shoot. Just as she pulled back on the stick, her phone vibrated in her pocket again and the shot went wild.

 

“Come over. I want to eat your pussy.”

 

She pursed her lips, smiling at his plaintive demands. He must have had a few drinks, she thought. She watched one of her friends sink shot after shot. She texted him back a smiley face and waited for her turn.

 

It wasn’t to be. Her friend ran the table and won. They bought another pitcher and started to pour another round. Her phone buzzed again.

 

“Get over here. Now.”

 

Damn. Her brain was with her friends, but her body was responding to his calls. She’d only had two beers in the hours they’d been at the pool hall, so she was safe to drive. She looked around at the group that had assembled. Could she slip away and not really be missed? As she pondered the question, two of the other girls announced that they were done for the night. Her body jumped for joy inside itself. It was the perfect moment.

“I’m done, too,” she said, and there were hugs all around. It took another twenty minutes to say goodbye to everyone and take a proper leave. She felt her phone buzz several times as she made the rounds, but she waited until she was out the door to look again.

 

“You know what I will do to you.”

“I’m going to fuck you til you scream.”

 “Where the hell are you?”

 

She started the car and texted back. “On my way.”

 

Sucker. She was such a sucker. But she knew that he would follow through on his threats and she just couldn’t stay away. Even now she could feel her pulse slamming into the seam of her jeans as she drove, teasing her poor clit and making her want to squirm in her seat. They had such incredible sex together. Scenes from their love-making played in her head – his face looming over hers, bending her in half, legs so far overhead that her knees were behind her ears. Her top half so far over the bed that she was lying on the floor, while he did things to the bottom half of her body that left her raw for days after. His fingers digging into her skin so hard and deep that she screamed as he mixed the pain with amazing and exquisite pleasure.    

 

She pulled up to his place and parked. She got out of the car and walked to the front door. As she lifted her hand to knock, the door flew open. He was nude, his erection pointing straight at her. He grabbed her by the back of the head with one hand and slammed the door shut with the other. Winding his fingers into her hair, he pulled her face to his and kissed her, biting her lips. She felt her nipples get hard. He shoved her back against the wall.

 

“You shouldn’t have made me wait. Get your ass up those stairs. Now.” He was so riled up, she thought, as she turned to walk up the stairs to the room she now knew well. She could be in trouble tonight. She tried not to smile as the first of what she assumed would be many spanks landed perfectly between her ass and pussy.

 

Oh yes, she was in trouble. She ran up the stairs.

WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED "DICK-MATIZED?"

Photo credit:  Untitled by Keefers on Photobucket

 

“While kissing me, he unzipped his pants.  In his hand he held that dick, the on I sometimes think I dreamed into existence, so badly did I long for it.  Long, thick and proud, with its wide head rising like a nobleman separated from the powerful shaft by the ridge of the corona that was in my fantasy a rich gold necklace, the tribal emblem of the king.  He had me.”

--from The Sex Bible for Women

Every now and then I refer to the splendid penis that had me “dick-matized” for eighteen months. 

And people write asking:  “WHAT IS DICK-MATIZED?”

Carlin Ross and I came up with the term when we were podcasting together a few years ago.   Dick-matized:  the state of being so in thrall to a particular dick that the man, its life support system, is secondary to the appendage.

“…But his dick.  It is my fetish object.  It is the life force.  I’m thrilled b its contractions in my mouth, the taste and feel of his semen shooting into me.  I come when I suck his dick.  Sometimes I hump his leg as I suck, like a bitch in heat…”

--from The Sex Bible for Women

The man and I have parted and unfortunately his cock had to go with him.  I still dream about that cock sometimes...

ASK AUNTIE SUE: Reader Questions on Sexual Fantasies, Older Men—and “Are There Any Good Men Online?”

 

I am continually surprised at how often men’s and women’s sexual expectations are not grounded in reality. They want to do it like porn stars—with other porn stars they meet online. Could the porn stars also be rich, smart, romantic and beautiful/handsome—and respond to their match.com profiles or Facebook friend requests in great numbers because as one rather unattractive man explained, “I want choices”?

Most people are not as smart as my friend Liz who says, “I am on match.com because I want to learn how to date. I know how to fuck and how to fall in love, but I have never dated.”

People, I’m not Ms. Santa. Don’t ask me why Brad Pitt hasn’t found you online and left Angelina to be with you. Make me cranky and I may bite.

Q. “My girl and I agreed to try threesomes. First, she wanted an extra man. We found him online. She fantasized double penetration, but that didn’t happen. I ate her pussy while she sucked him off. Then I fucked her while he watched. Since I did this for her, I expect her to do a threesome with another woman for me. She says she will but never makes the arrangements. I feel cheated. What should I do?” Giles, 39.

A. Her fantasy encounter didn’t happen so she’s in no hurry to try again with your agenda. By the way, double penetration is a porn fantasy. It’s not easy for non-professionals to pull off. That was probably an ambitious goal for a first adventure into multiple partners. And you didn’t get into bed with her and another guy just to please her. Sub-consciously, you were curious about that dick too. You have not been “cheated” because you are not entitled to a threesome arranged by your girlfriend. Stop whining.

Why don’t you make it happen yourself, with or without her? I’ve been told that the best threesomes aren’t staged events between strangers who connect on craigslist—but sexual entanglements that grow organically out of the attraction three people feel for one another. Read the section on “Sexual Variations: The Partners” in The Sex Bible for Women. Turn off your computer, go out and meet people in person. Give chemistry a chance.

Q. “I m very attracted to older men—much older men. I have sexual fantasies about my Ph.D. advisor, a man in his sixties. My girlfriends think I am crazy. Can a man that age satisfy me in bed?” Andrea, 25.

A. Yes, a man in his sixties can satisfy a woman of 25 in bed. I don’t know if this particular man can do it. Is he overweight and sedentary? Those are not indicators of male potency. More to the point, does he appear interested in doing the job for you?

The younger woman/older man dynamic does work for many people—but you might want to find a 40 year old who doesn’t hold your academic future in his hands.

Q. “Are there any good men online? Everyone I’ve met has lied about something that is immediately obvious, like age and the fact that his picture was taken ten years and 25 pounds ago. They’re boring—and cheap, expecting me to pay for my own coffee on the initial coffee date. The new trend is Facebook befriending of strangers. One man told me he is considering 100 women on FB. How do I find a good man?” Carla, 41.

A. Read my advice to the whiner in question one. Go out. Meet people. Do things. Get a life. I know it’s a revolutionary idea, but I’m hoping it catches on.

Studies have shown that men and women do lie in their online dating profiles—because they can. Many have been “looking” for love/sex online for several years. They are serial online daters. What are the odds that you’ll find a gem in that rock collection? And how many of the 100 women do you think are “considering” Mr. FB?

Occasionally I read a touching story about a couple who met online, found true love and made it into The New York Times wedding section. Mostly I hear from women (and men) like you who ask, “Where are the good ones?” I met the two best lovers of my life at a neighborhood bar, one of those congenial places where all the bartenders know your name and have your back. Oh!....and there was the guy I met in a bookstore in D.C…….

IS HE BLOW JOB WORTHY?: 7 Suggestions for Accessorizing The Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs

Photo credit:  "Sexy Lips" by Aristotells on Photobucket

A man I barely know sent me a photo of his erect cock with the line, “Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs?”

I deleted, blocked future emails, and put him on the Jerk (as in jerk-yourself-off-buddy) list.  Since you are not known for The Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs, this hasn’t happened to you—but I’m willing to bet something like it has.   We have all—both women and men—been treated like a piece of meat, an orifice or three, the express track to someone else’s satisfaction.

Another man annoyed me this week by telling me that he still holds resentment toward his ex-girlfriend who promised a threesome but wouldn’t deliver.  She would not be his express track.  “You have to stand by your word,” he said.  Oh, please.  Sexuality is fluid, constantly in motion like moving water.  You can’t give your word on it.  Making promises your body can’t keep –or holding someone else to such foolish promises—is pointless.

He was on the opposite end of the “permission” spectrum from Reid, who treats every sexual move as an act that must be verbally negotiated.  See “The Power Kiss”.  I wanted to—and actually did—flick both of their self-defensive arguments away like lint off a black cashmere sweater—but I admit the “entitlement” guy was more irritating.  I sense that sex is always primarily about them though they pride themselves on “pleasing” women.  Who has time and patience to debate either of them? 

(Thank the goddesses for my readers who are responding to the vulva survey.  I re-read some of them with vibrator in hand.  Wait til you get the results on SexyPrime!)

The bottom line:  I need to be seduced every time, but I don’t play the infantilizing game of “Mother, May I?”  If your only form of communication is requesting permission—or asserting your sexual “rights”—go back to school and don’t call me when you matriculate.  Perhaps because I am a sexpert, I bristle at being considered a sure thing by any man I let close enough to touch me.  I may like the idea of giving him the Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs, but I may change my mind if I don’t like the way he is holding or kissing me. 

He, on the other hand, may find himself wishing I would customize the Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs especially for him.  That’s a fair request.  If I am into a cock, I will find its special places.  It will whisper its secrets to me; and I will know exactly how to thrill it.

Babes, the sex tip of the day:

7 Suggestions For Accessorizing The Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs

1.      1.     Be slow and deliberate with your tongue and lip moves so you can “hear” his penis telling you what feels especially good.  Give that area extra attention.

2. Veer off the path of head, corona, frenulum, raphe—and see what happens.  Some men have extra sensitivity in places you might be overlooking.  The cock that had me dick-matized was exquisitely sensitive just below the corona and to the side of the frenulum (that little seam of skin on the underside of the shaft.)  I could make him come again sucking that place.

3. Pay attention to his balls.  Gently pull them as you’re sucking.his cock.

4. Alternate lighter with stronger suction.

5.    5.  Use the under side of your tongue to lick up and down the shaft.

6. Put on your pearls!  Let them fall down over his cock.  Lightly twist them up and down the shaft of his penis while you’re sucking the head.  Or wrap them loosely around his balls and tug as you lick his shaft.

7. Read my friend Dr. Sonia Borg’s book, Oral Sex He'll Never Forget—and perform the BBBDBJ in a wildly exciting new scenario.

WHY BAD SEX IS A BAD THING FOR YOUR VULVA

Photo Credit:  "Linda's Sexy Red Heels on Top" on Photobucket

“I am not the first woman under the impression that her magical vagina will inspire a man to change,” Julie Klausner, I Don’t Care About Your Band:  Lessons Learned From Romantic Disappointments (Gotham Books, on sale January 2010).

 

This is one of many great lines from a book that is both hilariously funny and shockingly true.  (I will write more about it in the weeks ahead and hope to get a 7 Questions interview with the author.)  Ever wasted your pussy power on an unworthy and inept lover?  Had cringe-inducing sexual experiences?  Woke up surprised to discover that sex hasn’t changed/improved the guy but has given you a cold sore or bed bug bites?  Julie has stories—

bad sex, crazy sex, mediocre sex, desperate sex and sex with unattractive men in filthy apartments that leave you asking, “Why?”

Be single long enough and you will have one of those experiences.  But many attractive, successful and amazing alpha women have TOO MANY of them.   Are women subverting their pussy power?  And why?

I’ve had conversations (live and online) lately with close to fifty young women, under 35.  Over half of them say they don’t have orgasms or have them occasionally, they don’t masturbate or do so rarely—and more than half are dating, sleeping or living with men they describe as “passive” or “passive/aggressive”—the new beta males.

I explored the alpha women/beta men territory with Zola before his banishment to Arizona.  He briefly attempted to style himself as The Spanking Man and “the kink provider” to women—and saw himself as a beta with sexual prowess.  As our conversations wore on, I realized that he is a misogynist with a mean streak—and guessed he was not likely a skilled top.  The women he’s “provided” for have been writing to tell me that he is definitely not.  Because he has been shameless in writing and talking disparagingly about his sex partners, I see no need to censor their feedback, do you?  (When he was working as a bartender at upscale Del Posto—where I’m having dinner next week!—he entertained the staff by telling them the sex acts he’d performed on two women who were guests of the establishment that night-and bragged about it to me later.)

I was struck by the similarity to some of these women’s letters and a passage from Julie’s book:

“…what was, at the time, I thought, a rough, kinky, exciting crazy SM relationship with a masterful pervert, was, in fact, just bad sex with a misogynist who had no idea what he was doing.”

Read “A fine line between lust and hate.”  Do you need guys like this in your bed—even in near proximity to your power pussy?  NO—especially not when there are so many great guys (alphas and the not passive/aggressive betas) who love the pussy.   (Cowboy, I’m blowing you a kiss.  You don’t want me to write about you and so I won’t.)

Babes, claim your power and your pleasure.   Tell me your stories.  What can you say to the women who aren’t having orgasms and are having bad sex to help them turn that around? 

Let's put on those sexy red heels and get on top. 

 

 

IT'S KIMMIE WEDNESDAY: And The Perfect Storm Continues

I LOVE The Perfect Storm....it just keeps getting better and better.  So once again I say with delight, here's Kimmie:

 

The first spank was louder than it was harsh. Even though she was half-expecting it, she still jumped. He cracked her a few more times in quick succession, chasing her ass back and forth across the bed as she tried to get away. To no avail, of course. Each smack landed where he aimed it. He lunged forward and hissed into her ear, “Your ass is mine.” He scraped his teeth along her earlobe then bit her neck. Quickly, he sat back and went for it again. He was right. Her ass was his, and if it hadn’t been before now, it was tonight. She was in pain and ecstasy, moaning and squealing into the bed with each stinging blow.

 

Then it stopped. She felt his cool cheek against her hot skin as he lay down beside her and rested his face on her ass. He tickled his fingers in lazy circles, making her flinch and quiver. He worked her pants a little further down, just far enough to be able to get his two longest fingers in, down past the crack of her ass into the hot, moist, deepest parts of her. She groaned as he slid those two fingers inside. He was good, exploring slowly, responding to each noise that he forced out of her involuntarily to see if she would make it again, or find a new one. It’s like I’m not even here, she thought to herself, amazed at how arousing that was. It’s like he’s using me, using my body. This is fucking hot as… and before she could finish the thought, he made he groan again, lost in the world of his fingers.

 

He peeled her pants the rest of the way down, kissing the backs of her legs as he moved down her body. He crawled back up to her face and kissed her hard, turning her head up to him, holding her jaw, fingers digging into her cheek. She flipped over, happy to have him in front of her once more. She reached for his jeans, popping the button and pulling the zipper down. Before she could do anything else, he jerked out of her hands, shifting himself back down the bed between her thighs. He paused, looking at down at her, breathing on her, tickling her skin with each breath in and out. She realized that she was holding her own breath. As the thought hit her and she exhaled, he dove in.

 

Oh god, her head was going to explode. The heat of his wet tongue finally meeting her wet center that had been forced to wait so long for the attention that it had been demanding like a worst of divas caused an eruption of pleasure so intense that it bordered on painful. Her back arched, trying to pull her hips away from that new, unknown and possibly dangerous sensation. He reached up under her ass and yanked her back down again, wrapping his arms up around each leg to keep her pinned in one place as he plastered his mouth to her pussy. She covered her face with a pillow and screamed, holding her legs open as wide as she could get them to give this man as much access as he needed to keep doing what he was doing.

 

And keep going he did. Long, short, deep, shallow, gentle, hard – he used every tool in the box, taking her high and bringing her back down, only to take her right back up again, higher than before. She was floating now, floating in a universe where her clit was the sun. The rest of her had become merely a small planet, orbiting on a long ellipse, heading out in space like it was about to break free, then suddenly being pulled back in, racing closer and closer to the heat, and each time it went out and came rushing back, it seemed to speed up, getting hotter and hotter and faster and faster and so much closer and she felt the heat building higher and bigger and higher and bigger and she had to warn him, had to breathe her warning to him, and she grabbed the pillow once again and as she grabbed, her sun went supernova and she screamed and screamed and the world went white, it was white, the world was gone.

HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE THE PUSSY?: His 7 Questions on the Vulva

Photo Credit:  "Sensual Clematis"  on Photobucket

Here at SexyPrime, it’s Vulva Week, inspired by Mara Altman, author of Thanks for Coming:  One Young Woman’s Quest For An Orgasm (Harper Perennial).

I know my guys—and you love pussy.  Tell me how much!  Anonymity guaranteed, but I would like to know your age, race and relationship status (and anything else you might want to tell me.)

 

1.  Do you have a pussy preference, for example, big lips or small, shaved/waved or full bush?

 

2.  How do you approach a new pussy?

3.  Have you ever met a pussy you didn’t like—and why not?

 

4.  Do you enjoy performing cunnilingus and are you good at it?

 

5.  What are your best strokes to bring her pleasure?

 

6.  Does she touch herself during intercourse—and do you like that?

 

7.  Does she use a vibrator—and have you ever used one on her?

 

PUSSY POWER: Her 7 Questions on the Vulva

Photo Credit:  "Sensual Hibiscus" from Photobucket

 Here at SexyPrime, it’s Vulva Week, inspired by Mara Altman, author of Thanks for Coming:  One Young Woman’s Quest For An Orgasm (Harper Perennial).

“You have to put yourself in your cunt” to claim pleasure, she says. 

Be one with your pussy, Babes, and answer these 7 questions—in as many or as few words as you like.  Anonymity guaranteed, but I would like to know your age, race and relationship status (and anything else you might want to tell me.)

1.  Do your inner lips hang low or tuck inside?

 

2.   How big is your clitoris?  (Or, how well do you know your genital anatomy?)

 

3.  Do you shave/shape/wax or let your pubic hair furl?

 

4.  Are you happy with the way your pussy looks and feels?

 

5.   How sensitive are your labia lips, cervix, vagina, G spot, clitoris—and any place else I left out?

 

6.  What manual and oral clit strokes work best for you—in terms of intensifying arousal and then bringing you to orgasm?

 

7.  Do you play with vibrators—and, if so, how and how often?

 

THE VULVA WEEK BOOK GIVEAWAY!

Send me your orgasm story by midnight Saturday, November the 21st. It can be hot or funny, about your first one or best one—the time you (or your partner) squirted—about multiples or faked Os. Your privacy will be respected. No email addresses published.

We at SexyPrime will draw a winner from the contributors and send that person signed copies of Thanks for Coming: One Young Woman’s Quest For An Orgasm by Mara Altman (Harper Perennial) and The Orgasm Loop by ME (Quiver Books).

 

 

And if you live in New York City, I’ll also buy you at drink at Maxie’s Grill (19^th Street between Irving and Park.)

ASK AUNTIE SUE: Reader Questions on Back to Faking, Sex Parties--and "Can A Fat Man Get Laid?"

Photo Credit:  "Sexy Legs" by Stacey

WHY DO WOMEN HAVE SO MUCH TROUBLE WITH ORGASM?!

Intellectually, I know the answer to that one, but deep inside my vulva I have some issues with it.  Reaching orgasm doesn’t have to be hard.  Women make it hard by their reluctance to masturbate or touch themselves during intercourse or use vibrators.  (I believe that vibrators are the only proof we need that there is a goddess.)  Women are not only entitled to orgasm—we are not sexually empowered if we can’t/don’t have them.

And faking is not the answer.  Life is too f’ing precarious and short to waste orgasm opportunities.  The week’s questions begin with a missive from a “back to faking” woman that made me want to scream.

Q.  “I had my first orgasm through cunnilingus when I was thirty—with a man who was determined to give me an O after I confessed to him I’d been faking them all my sex life.  It didn’t happen again with him.  Sex became such a struggle because he was trying so hard to please me.  We broke up.  I am not comfortable masturbating; and I don’t think I am the vibe type.   I am back to faking orgasms with a new man.  I’m really into him and don’t want him to know I don’t come.  I know you say ‘intimacy’ isn’t enough, but can’t it be for some women?”  Ella, 33.

A.  You can’t be “really into” a man if you’ve never had an orgasm with him—and, worse, you’re faking them.  Is that your idea of “intimacy”?  How would you feel if he were faking every orgasm?  Or lying to you on some other very primal level?  You’re “really into” your own romantic fantasy in which he plays a supporting role.  Men deserve better than that from women.

Is sex without orgasm enough for some women?  Sadly, it probably is.  I hope they are at least being honest with their lovers.  I had a flash of insight when I read your letter:  The middle-age women who have the Prude ‘Tude about sex were likely you ten years ago.  They couldn’t come, wouldn’t masturbate and faked.  Ella, dear, you didn’t write to me for the brief lecture.  You WANT to have orgasms.  Learn my no-fail O technique, The Orgasm Loop.  Write me again after you’ve mastered it.

Q.  “My husband wants to attend a group sex party with some people he ‘met’ on Face Book.  I am ambivalent.  It’s in northern New Jersey.  What do you think will happen there?”  Kate, 42.

A.   Northern Jersey is a suburban Hot Bed!

Sex parties are generally hosted by groups of players who have developed clear rules of conduct that guests are expected to observe.  Tell your husband to request the guidelines.  Some parties are “cuddle” only.  Others encourage sex acts short of intercourse.  At some sex parties, you can do almost anything as long as you are practicing safer sex.  Condoms and lube packets are usually available on premises.  No one should ever feel pressured into participating or “performing.”

There’s sex and there’s Sex.  You need a program before getting into the car.   My FB “friends” occasionally ask for a lingerie shot or a date—but, no party invites.  Send me a full report.

Q.  “I read somewhere that fat girls are easier.  It’s always last call somewhere, right?  What about fat guys?  I wouldn’t have lost my virginity in high school if my parents hadn’t sent me to fat camp—where I didn’t lose much weight but did get laid.  In college, I became known for my oral virtuosity.  The last several years have been sexually lean, pun intended.  What does a fat man have to do to get laid?”  Ned, 31.

A.  Money always works.  If you have enough of it, or at least can spend generously, you can get laid.  But won’t you feel like the fat girl who, according to a recent study, takes more sexual risks than her thinner sisters?

I am accepting your description that you are “fat”, not merely a little overweight.  First and foremost, you’re not healthy.  In a few years, if not already, you will be on meds for high blood pressure and possibly diabetes and asking me about Viagra.  I understand that you hunger for erotic touch and crave a lover.  But, please address the health issue.  There may already be women in your life, friends and co-workers, who will begin to look at you in a different way once you start down the road to health and fitness. 

One of my own life mottos:  I’m not lifting his stomach to find his cock.

Write to me in six months and thank me for telling you that.