A Man Who Mattered

Today makes seven years since my best friend, Greg, died. This is a letter I wrote to him a few weeks after his death.

I don’t want to write this because it will mean that you’re really gone. But every day that passes makes it harder for me to deny. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. When you held me all those nights when I was begging for death after Shane died, you swore to me that you would see me through this life…that you would never leave the way he did. This shouldn’t be real.

I keep trying to think of a happy time in my life when you weren’t there. I can count them on one hand. But the same goes for the worst times of my life. You wept like a baby that night you fell to your knees in front of me with blood pouring down my face, as you surveyed the damage left by my first boyfriend. I will never forget the pain in your eyes when you had to cut my clothes off and wash the blood off my skin with your hands. I tried so hard not to cry. I’m not sure you ever knew, but when I did break down, I wasn’t crying for myself. I was crying for the part of you that died that night. While you were pulling the shards of glass from my head, you whimpered with each piece. I don’t think you realized it. But I can’t get that sound out of my head right now. No one had ever loved me as much as you did in that moment.

And when I met and fell in love with Shane, you were so worried about me. You were convinced that he would talk me into something that would kill me. You were so worried that you found him one night and had a talk with him. I know you didn’t think I knew about it, but I did. I also know that was the night that Shane gave you his blessing. And you told him that you would take any part of me I was willing to give…even if it was just my body.

After he died, I never thought I would have a day with more laughter than tears. I didn’t think it was possible. But you didn’t give up on me. Even when it meant finding me on the floor with an empty bottle of bourbon and a bottle of pills. All I remember about that night is waking up on the bathroom floor with your fingers down my throat and pouring saltwater in my mouth with you screaming at me. Again, tears streaming down your face. I always hated myself for making you cry so much. No one made you cry.

Who could have known that just a year later we would be on a quiet sugar sand beach, walking hand-in-hand under a full moon when you fell to your knees in front of me again? At least that time it was happy tears. I’ll never forget the way you ran up to every stranger we passed and told them that the most wonderful girl on Earth had just lost her mind and agreed to marry you. The next day we went and had our rings engraved with each others name. At your funeral I couldn’t stop touching that ring. The could-have-beens are strong. Too strong sometimes. But we were better as friends.

For fifteen years we danced a dance that no one else knew the steps to. They all acted as if we were two insane kids spinning wildly in the pouring rain with our mouths open to the sky. But the floor always belonged to us.

At your funeral, I sat alone. I went to your casket and put the thing inside that you brought me all those years ago and told me to bury with you…just in case. I never understood why you wanted it, but I fought your sister to get it in there. And I succeeded.

At graveside, I couldn’t leave you. I walked every step I could beside you. I knew it was our final dance together. I walked those last steps with you, just you. People offered to go with me, but I couldn’t allow it. It was ours to finish. And I had to be there alone. So I tried my best to keep my footing but it was so hard without being able to lean on you. And when they lowered you into the ground, I had never felt so alone. For the first time in fifteen years, I had to leave the floor alone.

You know I don’t have much in the way of faith. I don’t believe in God or religion. But that day, just in case, I said a little prayer, asking an old friend of ours to look after you. And just as he entrusted me to you all those years before, I had to entrust you to him.

I’ll carry you with me always. I will miss your physical pressence, the sound of your laugh, your crooked smile…every day of my life. You may not have been famous or powerful, but you mattered. I mourn my loss, but even more than that, I cry for those who never knew you.

Love Always.

Does Costco Sell Kneepads In Bulk?

****This is another sample chapter from my unpublished sex book, Servicing the Alpha Male****

Does Costco Sell Kneepads In Bulk?

One of the most misunderstood of all sexual acts is the blowjob. A large percentage of women seem to believe that just opening wide and giving a hard cock a few slurps is going to be enough for the man on the other end of the appendage. However, unless we’re talking about eighteen year old boys who are just happy to have a female in close proximity to their erect organ, technique is important. The only thing more important than a good basic understanding of how his equipment works and the best way to stimulate him orally is your enthusiasm in doing so.

As with all men, alphas want to know a woman is impressed by his endowment, however, it goes far beyond that. Whereas a beta male might just be happy a woman is taking some real interest in his wiggle stick, an alpha wants to know that not just any cock will do. He wants to know that it’s not a cock you want in your mouth, it’s his cock you need.

When going down on a man you love, it’s important to be genuinely interested and excited about everything he’s got going on down there. It’s not simply a matter of touching and kissing and fondling—treat that part of his anatomy the same way you would want him to treat your face. That may sound odd, but it can be one of the most intimate things you can do with your alpha.

Take your time. Explore his cock (balls, too). Take notice of every vein, every curve, the different textures and colors. I’ve never met an alpha that was even the slightest bit uncomfortable with the idea of having his cock worshiped by a woman. And if you couldn’t describe every detail of it to a sketch artist afterward with some accuracy, you need to have another long hard look.

Every man I’ve known has had some form of insecurity concerning the glorious piece of flesh dangling between his legs. I would be willing to bet that most men aren’t entirely confident about what they are packing. Most of those insecurities are likely unfounded, but it’s your job as a woman to make your alpha feel like he has the cock of a porn star. Don’t lie to him and tell him it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen if it’s not. But do give him cock compliments (or cockliments as I like to call them) that are thoughtful and specific to his penis.

If his cock has a nice curve to it, be sure to tell him how good it feels on your g-spot. If it is thickly veined, tell him how much added sensation you get every time he fucks you. If his cock is unusually smooth, tell him how the sight of it makes you want to lick it like a double mint chocolate chip ice cream cone in the middle of an August heat wave. If his cock is not the largest in the world, but feels good inside you, make sure you tell him how perfectly his cock fills you and how full your pussy feels when he is fucking you. Regardless of the compliment, just make sure it’s specific and sincere. He’ll know if you are being patronizing or disingenuous.

The most important advice I can relay about giving head is to remember that it isn’t about you. It doesn’t matter if your jaw starts to hurt. It doesn’t matter if you get hair in your mouth or if he isn’t groomed just how you would like. It is about enjoying the fact that you are giving him pleasure. Does he complain when he’s fucking you and gets a leg cramp? Does he go down on you for long periods of time trying to either get you off or get you ready for sex? Don’t you think he deserves some pleasure of his own that doesn’t require him to do something?

Every married man I know has the exact same complaint about his sex life. They all say that regardless of the frequency with which they have sex, they never get a real blowjob. Maybe every now and then, their wives may lick around the head for a couple of minutes or give a very lazy sucking, but the guys don’t really get good head anymore…even if they know their spouse is capable of sucking a cherry pit through a coffee stirrer. And regardless of what twenty-two year old boys say there really is such a thing as a bad blowjob. Enthusiasm, Eye contact, and Effort are the cornerstone of giving great head.

Enthusiasm

I know it may sound trite, but no technique I could teach you would ever compare to having enthusiasm about what you’re doing. If you are a woman who spends all day long taking care of others then maybe the last thing you want to do at night is spend an hour on your knees licking the lavender lollipop. But if that is truly the case I think you might be looking at it the wrong way. After a long day of being everyone’s servant, wouldn’t you like a chance to be the master? For every moment that your significant other’s cock is in your mouth, you own him. You control his orgasm. His pleasure is completely at your whim. That is a very powerful position.

There could be a million reasons you don’t enjoy giving head. “It’s not my favorite thing.” “I don’t like the taste.” “My neck gets tired.” “After he cums from a blowjob, he never wants to do anything for me.” “Nobody enjoys that unless they’re getting paid for it.” Your reason is of no consequence. The only thing you need to remember is that the joy of giving a good blowjob comes from the understanding that it is not about you. Embrace that idea. Revel in it. For the time you are on your knees, make your entire purpose for existence giving him the most pleasure you possibly can give. Making his pleasure your own should be all the incentive you need.

I realize this may not come naturally to you. It didn’t always work that way for me either…at least not until I honed up on my skills. Just as I am sure it’s more fun to play a sport when you are very skilled at it, it is decidedly more fun to go down on your partner when you know you are good at it. However, until you become a Jedi Master of the Man Meat, there are steps you can take to get yourself excited about opening wide for the force that is the penis.

I have found over the years that it is not about getting myself in the mood to give head, it’s really about staying in the mood to give head so that I am ready at any moment. You never know when the opportunity might present itself. And just so you know, even if it’s a brief blowjob, every man I know will give a girl brownie points just for attempting to blow him somewhere unexpected. But not only that, it will let him know that giving him head is not some pre-sex chore in your mind; you genuinely want his cock in your mouth. You need it. That is something it would be terribly hard to fake though. Have you ever watched a blowjob in a porno movie? Those girls are professionals and even they cannot fake it convincingly.

To keep myself in the right frame of mind, I tend to think of nearly everything going in my mouth as the cock of the man I love. When I take a drink of water, I let it linger on my tongue just a little longer. When I take a bite of food, I chew it slowly, savoring every moment I have it on my tongue. When I drink from a straw, I place my lips around it gently and let my tongue caress it while it is in my mouth. When I apply lipstick, I imagine it’s the tip of his cock pressing against my lips. It may sound silly, but it works. Nothing goes near my mouth without forcing me to think about giving a long, wet blowjob that lasts for an hour.

Enthusiasm shows. When I am at dinner with a man and I lick my lips during the meal, he will notice me staring at him and know I am thinking about the taste of his cum. Men need to know you want to worship their cock.

Blowjobs aren’t just about getting off to men. It’s about you showing them how much you value their most prized possession. So when the time finally comes that you lower your eager mouth to his engorged muscle of pleasure, make sure you let him know it’s exactly what you have been waiting to do. Let out little moans and sighs with him in your mouth, not only will it feel great physically, but it will also stroke that soft place inside his heart that is directly attached to his cock. Kiss, touch, suck, and fondle him as if it were the only way you would ever have to express your love and affection for him; because to him, everything is connected. The closest you will ever be to his heart, unless you plan to cut it out of his chest (and if you do, that’s a totally different book), is when you have his cock in your mouth. If you understand that, it makes the entire experience infinitely more satisfying for both parties involved.

Eye Contact

It may sound silly, but eye contact is usually even more important than technique. A man who cares about you, an alpha especially, will watch your face while you are going down on him. He is not only watching your lips move back and forth or your tongue dance across his rigid cock, he is watching your eyes to try and get an idea of what you’re feeling at that moment: Are you enjoying the way he feels? Is the taste okay? Is his size good for you? Do you get any pleasure out of the act? And he is looking for all those answers in your eyes.

Have you ever wanted a man to gaze lovingly into your eyes? Just look up while you’re blowing him! If you are doing even a mediocre job, he is totally captivated by you in that moment. For as long as his balls are bouncing off your chin, you are the Easter Bunny, the Toothfairy, and Santa Claus all rolled up into one pretty little package. Who wouldn’t love that?

Your eyes (and maybe your boobs if they’re out) are what he’s going to be watching while his cock is rubbing against the back of your throat. So learn how to express emotion through your eyes. Don’t give him a blank zombie stare of erection death…give him the kind of look that will reanimate even the coldest of cocks.

It may sound silly, but practice when you’re alone. Cover the rest of your face and try to emote different feelings though your eyes. If you can’t quite make it look right, try pulling out photos of yourself where you felt a certain way and try to recreate that expression with your eyes. It can be an interesting experiment. But if you want a really good idea of what he’ll be seeing as you suck his cock, grab your favorite dildo or phallic shaped piece of produce, hold a mirror over your head at a bit of an angle and watch yourself. Take notice of what looks sexy and what doesn’t. But know that if it feels good to him that’s far more important than looking sexy. Play around with it, though. Get comfortable with being on display in that way. Learn how to say, “I love you,” “I want you,” and “Please cum for me, baby. I have to taste you,” with your eyes.

Effort

If you really want to know what it is that turns a man on, you have to make the effort to find out. It’s not as complicated as you might imagine. Men tend to be fairly simple creatures where their cocks are concerned. But that doesn’t mean that every man is the same.

In order to find out what your man’s needs are, consider asking him to masturbate for you. Watch how he touches himself. Watch what he does with his free hand. Does he roll his balls in one hand will stroking his cock with the other? Does he grip it hard in his fist or does he like a more gentle touch? Does he use lube to jack himself off or does he do it dry? Does he focus the most attention at the base or at the head? It may not seem like all these things matter, but the subtle variations between men can make all the difference in providing a great experience.

If he doesn’t want to masturbate for you or you just can’t bring yourself to ask, put your hand on his cock, kiss him passionately, and whisper in his ear how much it would turn you on to have him tell you exactly what to do to his cock. Get him to talk you through a handjob. Pay attention to everything. Watch his face. Listen to his breathing.

Knowing what he likes is not enough, however. You also have to know when he wants it. You want to make him feel adored. If he is a content man with empty balls, you never have to wonder if he is seeking out attention elsewhere. Blowjobs are great that way. Maybe you don’t feel like having sex. Maybe you are feeling a little bad about yourself one day and the last thing you want is to get naked with someone else. Or maybe you are just running short on time and there is no way you can reapply your make-up or fix your hair again should it get messed up from sex. If you are good at sucking his cock, you should be able to get him off in a matter of minutes. And even if you don’t get him off, you are leaving him horny and thinking of you. That’s not such a bad thing, although, I wouldn’t recommend it on a regular basis as that is cruel and unusual punishment.

Just make the effort. Show him he’s worth it. It will be appreciated. But if it’s not…it might be time to trade up.

I won’t lie to you and say that technique is completely unimportant. And while all men are different, there are some points to which I always try to adhere.

• It’s not a necessity to cover your teeth with your lips as long as you tense your jaw up enough that you don’t apply too much pressure with your teeth. Actually, it can be quite pleasurable for the man (as long as you don’t have snarled teeth) to feel the smooth enamel against the delicate skin of his cock. Just never bite down under any circumstance. It’s really not the same as him biting down on your nipple and pulling it through his teeth!

• Pay special attention to any dominant looking veins on his cock, especially the one that runs the length of the shaft on the underside. If the guy is sensitive enough, placing your mouth, slighting open, and creating a suction on the skin over the vein will be pretty fantastic. If you want to know what it feels like, suck the skin on the inside of the bend of your arm (the place where doctors draw blood or junkies shoot into the veins). Create a nice, wet, gentle suction there almost as if you were giving a hickie.

• Never neglect the balls. But be careful, they are extremely sensitive. Roll them around in your mouth one at a time as if they were small uncooked eggs that you are trying very hard not to crack. Lick them. Make a show of it. Of course, if he isn’t very well groomed, that might not be something you can do but that’s pretty much up to him.

• Learn how to deepthroat. It takes a lot of practice and it’s not at all a sexy learning process. However, your man will appreciate it. The best advice I can give you on the topic is to find a dildo that is close to your man’s size, lay on your back with you head over the side of the bed, opening up your airway completely, and practice that way to avoid the gag reflex.

• If your guy is uncircumsized, be very careful with his foreskin. It is very delicate skin and it can be torn. But it can also be quite sensitive and give him a great deal of pleasure. So, don’t get too rough, but there’s no need to avoid it either. Most guys with foreskin are a little insecure about the aesthetic appeal of their cock, so make sure you tell him how much you love it.

• Create a suction between your hand and your mouth by keeping your hand and lips wet. That way, as you move up and down on his cock, you are stimulating more skin even when not taking him all the way into your throat.

• Men usually find it really sexy if you will blow them after they have been inside your pussy. The idea that you are willing to lick your own juices off them is a very sexy mind fuck.

• There is absolutely no good reason not to swallow. If it’s the taste, just make sure he is all the way in the back of your throat when he cums. That way, he bypasses your taste buds.

All in all, just remember you are performing a show. Give his cock some long sexy licks. Let it rub against your face. Give the head some flicks of the tongue. Make it look as sexy as it feels. It’s okay if something seems a little silly or makes you feel as though you are in a porno movie. I’ve yet to meet an alpha male who is going to complain about his girl trying to please him by experimenting.

Personally, I like to wake my alpha male up each morning with a very sloppy blowjob. I mean the wood is already there just waiting to be pounded, right? It starts the day with a very nice tone. Try it sometime. You might find that your man isn’t the only one who likes it. It’s amazing how generous and attentive men can be when their balls are empty and they didn’t even have to break a sweat.

 

Man’cations: Buddies Bonding Over Bellinis

You know, there are many downsides to the feminization of men: never being able to get an appointment at the beauty salon, finding that all of the bikini wax is mysteriously gone from your bathroom cabinet after a male friend visits, and having to explain to a man that you really don’t want to hear him cry about his Mommy issues on the first date (or the twentieth).

I’m a hard-core kind of girl. I can be super girlie, and in my appearance, I am. My hair is very long and usually fixed. My makeup is perfect. I have the voice of a twelve year old and have never been unable to make any man feel like the most masculine person in a room. So to see men becoming so feminine is breaking my poor little heart. I like MEN dammit, not women with penises…penii…cocks.

I don’t want an overly sensitive man. I know that is politically incorrect to say, but I don’t want to be the toughest one in the relationship. And it seems that is happening more and more. I don’t want a guy who can just stand toe to toe with me, I want one who isn’t afraid to bend me over the back of the couch, pull my hair, call me his dirty little slut and fuck my brains out without having to first get my written permission, witnessed by a notary public, complete with illustrations and graphic instruction.

But seriously, you know what the best thing about men is? They aren’t women! Men don’t find it necessary to talk about their Mommy issues twenty-two hours a day with every stranger they pass, or go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on thirty-seven pair of shoes that all match the same outfit and nothing else. Nor do they need fancy hotels and spa trips to spend quality time with their same sex friend, right? Apparently they do:

You’ve heard of man-dates, where two heterosexual men meet for dinner or an event. Now get ready for the man’cation. It’s the Fairmont hotels new way to attract men to their hotels.

I’m all for hunting trips, tailgating for a week at the Superbowl, or even a roadtrip to Vegas for the AVN convention. I can accept dinner, trips to the range, hanging out at the bar, or even just kicking back at the house with some beer and barbecue. But a weekend away with a male friend at an ultra posh hotel for the sake of bonding makes me feel a little weird (and not in a good way).

Now, I can dig some guy on guy action. I’ve read Barracks Bad Boys and I own a hefty chunk of bisexual barebacking porn. But you know, when I think about two sweaty pretty boys breaking out the giant bottle of Astroglide, there’s always a rifle, some liquor, and a non-luxury tent involved. Cause we all know, if you don’t kiss on the mouth, you do it on the dirt, and there’s no women around, then you’re not gay. You’re just horny, drunk, and too tired to dig a hole in the ground to hump.

Don’t get me wrong, I love gay men. Some of the most valuable lessons of my life were taught by gay men: how to give a damn near perfect blowjob, how to properly shave a man’s asshole for a smooth rimjob, how to apply MAC cosmetics with or without a mirror in the backseat of a car to cover unsightly hickies, and even how to walk in six inch stripper shoes (and when you’re a short thing like me, that’s kind of important). But as much as I love my gay friends, I want to date them just about as much as they want to date me. Which in case you missed the memo, is not at all. You see, they kinda dig the cock and I happen to be missing that vital part of anatomy. Damn vagina…always getting in the way!

I don’t mind dating men who enjoy nice things. It has its perks I suppose. But if they start going to four star hotels for a boys’ night out and there’s no reason other than “hanging out,” it might make me worry. The Fairmont is the kind of place you take a girl when she isn’t dropping her panties quickly enough and it’s time to appeal to her materialistic side. But if you tell me you’re taking a buddy there, I’ll be checking your bag for lube and silky underwear.

Maybe I’m just a Southern girl who’s behind the times. California was culture-shock for me. I once walked into a party and found a bunch of heterosexual men discussing recipes, fat grams, and asking each other how their asses looked. I knew right then I wasn’t in Alabama any more. But really, has it come to this? Are women expecting men to be so fucking sensitive in their daily lives that they now need weekends away with the boys at the spa? What’s next? Bypassing the strip joint for the shoe store?

I just don’t want to date a man who can’t be happy with the simple things…beer, meat, and a blowjob (preferably from me). So, until I can find that guy, I’ll just have to be happy with my beloved ‘Tachi. Because if I wanted to fuck a girl again, trust me, I would.

Orgasms Are the Work of the Devil

Every morning when I wake up, there are three things you can be certain I will do. First, I will hit the snooze button at least three times. Second, when I finally get up, I will walk straight to the shower, turn it on a scalding temperature, and get in without checking the water first. And third, I will wrap myself in a towel at the waist, and crawl back into bed for an orgasm (usually with my Hitachi Magic Wand as I am terribly lazy until I’ve had that first jolt of energy that comes in the form of a leg-quivering orgasm).

These things are non-negotiables in my world. If something happens to throw off my routine, I am utterly useless for the rest of the day. I’m a simple girl but I need what I need. All things considered, I think a snooze button, hot water, and ‘Tachi are fairly reasonable requests. Right?

Wrong…according to the 11th U.S Circuit Court of Appeals:

ATLANTA — In a unanimous opinion, a three-judge panel for the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld an Alabama statute banning the commercial distribution of sex toys, saying that there is no fundamental right to privacy raised by the plaintiff’s case against the law.

According to the statute, it is “unlawful for any person to knowingly distribute any obscene material or any device designed or marketed as useful primarily for the stimulation of human genital organs.”

So, while it is not technically illegal for me to own sex toys and porn, it is illegal for anyone to sell them to me while I am in this state. This is why there is only one real sex shop in the Birmingham metro area. And it is a total dive. Of course, I am of the belief that sex shops should be a bit on the industrial warehouse side, but that’s only because it keeps out the riff-raff. Like I need some uptight housewife standing in the middle of the aisle fiddling with some horribly sad little bottle of strawberry flavored lube (that she mistakenly thinks will save her dying marriage) when I’m trying to get to the inflatable butt plugs! Because seriously…if they sell that lacy crap Fredrick’s of Hollyhookers calls lingerie (and maybe have a tiny backroom where they sell “naughty” items like edible undies…oh my!), it’s not a real sex shop. A real sex shop will have a thirteen inch black cock and balls sitting on a display right in the front of the store so it is the very first thing you see upon entering. That way, those who are freaked out by a sex toy the size of a grown man’s forearm can just turn around and leave immediately allowing the rest of us to shop in peace. But I digress…

I’ve read the full opinion of the court and I really have to ask…how did the ACLU not see this coming? Surely they could have found a better way to attack this law. Or maybe they just want the Supreme Court to agree to hear the case and will keep appealing until they do. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing I would like more than to see this law overturned and have all those holier-than-thou legislators in Montgomery have to bend over for a hard ass-fucking delivered by the Supreme Court. But, I really don’t see that happening. Ever.

Private sexual behavior is one thing—commerce within state lines is another. And I am afraid that there is little to be done through the courts. The change will have to come from the floor of the Alabama Legislature. And if not, it will have to come from the people and those they elect—which doesn’t leave me hopeful, not even the slightest little bit. This state is notorious for putting religion above common sense. And that is what is at the heart of this law; they are legislating morality.

For those of you who don’t know about the case, or can’t stomach reading an entire legal document (how can lawyers make something talking about dildos and sodomy so boring?!), I will try my best to summarize.

A group of citizens, one seller of adult toys and a handful of people who purchase/use them, brought suit saying that the law making it illegal to sell sex toys in Alabama is unconstitutional. Now, while the law does not make it illegal to own, use, or give away sex toys, it does make it illegal to profit from their sell. The ACLU took the case to the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on the basis that it was unconstitutional. The reason being that in the famous Supreme Court case of Lawrence vs. The State of Texas, the Supreme Court of the United States “held that the Texas sodomy statute challenged in that case ‘further[ed] no legitimate state interest which can justify its intrusion into the personal and private life of the individual.’ 539 U.S. at 578, 123 S. Ct. at 2484.” So, basically, they said that no state can tell an individual he/she cannot have anal sex as long as the act itself doesn’t break any other laws in the process (like age of consent laws or rape, etc).

Now, stay with me here…back to the case at hand (pun intended).

The ACLU argued that the Texas sodomy case was basically the same as the Alabama sex toy case and because the Supreme Court ruled that it was unconstitutional for the State to tell you what you can do between consenting adults in the privacy of your own bedroom, that this ruling should apply to the right of Alabamians to sell and purchase sex toys.

I’m wondering who the lead attorney was on the case that made this argument and thought it would stick, because even I can see the difference between the two cases. Sure, arguments can be made…but that can be said about almost anything.

So, basically what happened is that the Appellate Court said, yes, we think this law is really stupid, but the legislators in Montgomery voted for it and you’re stuck with it until they change it or you change them. It’s a law addressing public morality and the fact is that the religious zealots in Alabama don’t want to see porn theaters and sex shops across the street from their churches because if they can’t have any fun, no one should be able to. (I’m paraphrasing a little.) And each state, regardless of how backward they are, has a right to determine what is morally acceptable for its citizens.

While they may not have the right to tell you what you can do in your bedroom, they can keep you from opening up shop. Just look at the difference in liquor laws. In my county, you can’t buy alcohol on Sundays because well…you know…it’s the Lord’s day and all. And since they’re all good Southern Baptists who don’t even drink communion wine (opting for grape juice instead), alcohol on Sundays may be fine for our heathen neighbors to the North, South, East and West…but not for us. Oh heavens no! While they can’t tell me *not* to drink on Sundays, they can certainly tell retailers they cannot sell to me on Sundays. It’s within their rights to do that—no matter how fucking stupid it is.

Likewise with the sale of sex toys. It’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world to say that sex shops are a scourge on the public morality of Alabama. But, this is the same state that has voted down the lottery twice because it goes against the word of God, while taking church buses full of people to gamble across state lines in Mississippi. Things here have never made sense. Why start now?

But you really have to hand it to the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. They did give a little bitch slap to the Alabama lawmakers:

As we stated in Williams II:

However misguided the legislature of Alabama may have been in
enacting the statute challenged in this case, the statute is not
constitutionally irrational under rational basis scrutiny because it is
rationally related to the State’s legitimate power to protect its view of
public morality. “The Constitution presumes that . . . improvident
decisions will eventually be rectified by the democratic process and
that judicial intervention is generally unwarranted no matter how
unwisely we may think a political branch has acted.” Vance v.
Bradley, 440 U.S. 93, 97, 99 S. Ct. 939, 942-943, 59 L. Ed. 2d 171
(1979). This Court does not invalidate bad or foolish policies, only
unconstitutional ones; we may not “sit as a super-legislature to judge
the wisdom or desirability of legislative policy determinations made
in areas that neither affect fundamental rights nor proceed along
suspect lines.” New Orleans v. Dukes, 427 U.S. 297, 303, 96 S. Ct.
2513, 2517, 49 L. Ed. 2d 511 (1976).

Williams II, 240 F.3d at 952.

You gotta love that!

For now though, I’ll just have to buy all my sex toys in other states and give them the revenue that I would love to give my own state. But, the folks in Montgomery have made it very clear that they don’t want my dirty money. So, until they do, I’ll just say a little prayer to their God and thank him for the wonders of Internet sex toy shopping. Because while they may not appreciate the complexities of my sexual needs, I’m sure their God totally gets it and is laughing at their silliness right now!

Honey, I’m Horny, Can You Grab the Crisco?

***This is a sample chapter from my (not yet published) book, Servicing the Alpha Male***

Honey, I’m Horny! Can You Grab the Crisco?

Anal sex, once considered the holy grail of heterosexual intimacy, has become as expected in a relationship as a big dish of banana pudding at a church social.  In the past, it was something most women likely felt better left to porn stars and drunken co-eds at frat parties.  But as we all learned from the movie Goodfellas, only the most important people get to use the backdoor entrance.  It may not be as pretty or have the fancy drapes or carpet that the front door has, but it sure is thrilling to know you get to do something no one else can!

To even attempt to give your significant other a chance at the rosy ring, may be enough to make some men feel appreciated.  However, the alpha male needs to know you not only are willing to offer up the ass, but that he is not hurting you and there is potential for you to gain some pleasure from the act as well.  To a true alpha male, there is nothing more important than protecting his partner.  He would sooner have random appendages ripped from his body by the jagged teeth of a rabid muskrat than cause the woman he loves pain.  There is no time this is more obvious than during anal sex.  In order to avoid hurting a woman, a great deal of patience is required…more so than in any other form of sex.  If things are rushed, serious damage can be done.  Therefore, a man has to take great care to enter slowly and only when the woman’s body is completely ready.  And as women, it is our responsibility to help him figure out how best to go about entering that tightly clenched hole.

Now if you’re like me, some boyfriend in the past thought he would be ever so smooth and try to sneak in the backdoor at some point.  If this has happened to you, you know what a joke it is to think anything could sneak in there, regardless of what they tell their friends in the locker room!  Sometimes even when you are trying to make it happen, you just can’t seem to get past the first quarter inch without feeling like a character straight out of a Chaucerian tale getting a fiery poker forced into your ass as some sort of horrid punishment.

Some misguided women will tell you that the best way to go about getting ready for anal is to just drink as much alcohol as possible or get some numbing cream to use on yourself prior to the act.  However, both of those could lead to dangerous situations.  That’s just setting you up to get some very unfortunate injuries in some incredibly delicate places.  If you’re feeling sharp pain or seeing blood, you’re not doing it right.  That’s kind of important information to have, don’t you think?

The first time I tried to have anal sex I was convinced the guy was lying to me about not being all the way inside.  After about five minutes I got the nerve to look back and when I saw that he hadn’t even gotten the head of his cock completely inside me, I gave up.  I was pretty sure my ass had spontaneously caught fire and was on the verge of making the bed linens flame up from shear proximity.  To say it hurt would be an understatement!  But at least the pain let me know with certainty that I was not prepared to have my metaphorical ass cherry popped.  I’m pretty sure my significant other got the same impression as I ran screaming from the room with my arms flailing around like those of a drunken octopus.

However, the pain wasn’t my only problem.  The man I loved had his wonderfully perverse little heart set on fucking my ass and I hated the idea of disappointing him.  He really didn’t ask for much in that realm and I wanted to fulfill his fantasy.  So I did what any sexually intimidated straight girl would do…I went to see my gay friends.  After what seemed like hours of diagrams drawn on cocktail napkins, instructional mime and dry humping, I was left with more secondhand knowledge than I would ever need on the subject.  So much information, in fact, that it still keeps me awake some nights.  But I walked away with new understanding of the fundamentals of backdoor lovin’.  The next day, I put their advice into practice starting with buying a brand new can of Crisco.

I know it sounds odd and you may never look at a cherry pie the same way again, but I was assured by the guys that it is fairly common for gay men to use shortening as lube for anal sex.  That’s right…Crisco isn’t just for pie crusts and Sunday morning biscuits!  It makes sense if you think about it.  Shortening is non-toxic, safe, cheap, and a little goes a long way.  But most importantly, it doesn’t break down under friction the way typical lubes do.

With your average store bought lube, you have to apply and reapply every few minutes during anal play.  And every time that lube is absorbed into your body, it means you are more susceptible to tearing and pain.  Not to mention it isn’t exactly sexy to have to tell your partner you need more lube every tenth stroke.  But for whatever reason, shortening doesn’t seem to require multiple applications.  I was shocked to find that out, myself.  After trying it the first time, I was sold.  I have to tell you though, I can’t walk down the shortening aisle at the grocery store without wondering just how many people there are buying it to cook with and how many are buying it for much steamier pursuits.

Once I got my fresh new can of Crisco home, I grabbed a hard plastic dildo and started playing around.  I really had no intention of getting it inside me that night.  After all, I had tried previously to have anal sex and it ended disastrously when the pain became too overwhelming to handle.  Imagine my surprise when after only a few minutes lying on my side with the toy gently pressed against my tight little lubed hole, it started to slip in all on its own!

It was as if the anal sex fairy waved his magic sphincter specter over my ass and opened me up to all kinds of new possibilities.  Not only did I easily get the toy all the way inside me, but it actually felt good!  I couldn’t believe it.  How could something that hurt so badly before feel so good a couple of days later?  But the answer was simple.  I didn’t really care if I got it inside me or not.  I was just enjoying the feeling of having the toy pressed lightly enough against me to tickle my asshole.  I never tried to force it inside.  And when my body was all relaxed and ready, it pulled the dildo in all on its own.  I suppose most things in life are like that…once you stop trying to force them to happen, they just come about organically.

From that point on, not only was I capable of having anal sex with my alpha, but I enjoy it.  It’s not just the physical sensation, but the mental and emotional as well.  For an alpha male, knowing that you trust him and are willing to put yourself completely in his hands is not only a turn-on but an expression of love.  And how he responds to that gift, will show you how much he cares for you.  Anal sex isn’t only difficult for the woman; it is also difficult for any man who doesn’t want to hurt you.  It has to be done very slowly and requires the kind of patience usually reserved for Biblical figures.  With every moment that passes with the head of his cock pressing against your asshole just waiting, everything inside him is screaming to just shove it in.  But he doesn’t.  He waits for your body to be ready so he doesn’t hurt you even though what his body wants is in complete opposition to that.

What you can do to help him is find a position that allows him to have the easiest entry and also steady himself.  My personal preference is doggie style.  It is a very relaxed position for both of you so during the entry process no one gets cramps or accidentally slips.  Plus, it allows your man to steady himself on your hips.  Arching your back seems to allow for easier entry, too.  And it gives him a very nice visual.  Men do love their visuals.

When I am having anal sex, I tend to let my mind and my heart go to the softest place possible.  It helps to know and understand that for your alpha, this is one of the most difficult sexual acts to perform.  As good as it feels when he is finally inside, it is pretty close to torture for him until he is balls-deep in your warm little ass.  Anal sex is an opportunity to let your man make love to you—not just fuck you—in an entirely new way.

 

The Scar of Love

I sit here staring at a little black box. It has all kinds of colorful writing and symbols on it. My first love, Shane, drew all over the box. It was special to him…important. It housed something that cost him his life…his ‘fix kit.’ If he had only adopted the policy of using his own needle a little sooner, he might not be dead now.

I haven’t looked at it in years. It’s hard. I love it because he loved it. I hate it because he loved it. I want to destroy it because it destroyed him. But I want to hold onto it because it still has a tiny bit of his blood on it…the only physical piece of him still here.

When we met, I struggled trying to wrap my mind around why he gave his life away for a drug. I had never even enjoyed drinking. I drank with my father when I was 13-14. I drank with him not because I liked it, but because he needed a drinking buddy and I was still fucked up enough to believe that it was my fault he allowed horrible things to happen to me as a kid. I did whatever I could to try and find common ground with him, even if it meant drinking a half gallon of liquor every week. I suppose I could have been a thirteen year old alcoholic; luckily, I hated drinking. I just did it a lot.

Because of that, drugs never really appealed to me. I tried them all. But I was one of those people who could take them or leave them. Drugs, alcohol, even cigarettes, never had that mysterious hold over me. I smoked for a lot of years, but once I decided I was done, I was just done. I put them down and never gave it a second thought.

So try as I would, I could never really understand why it was that Shane loved that damn needle so much. How could that be worth your life? I didn’t understand. One night, after too little rest and too much conversation, I begged Shane to show me what was so great about heroin. He became furious with me. He started throwing things and putting his fist through walls. Then he got very quiet and told me to sit on his lap. He held me for what seemed like hours, not saying a word, just cradling me and rocking back and forth.

When he finally spoke, he asked me if I was positive I wanted to know what it was like. I told him I did. And he teared up. He begged me to reconsider. He tried to forbid me. But he knew me. He knew that it was something I needed to understand. There I was, sixteen years old, looking into the face of the man I loved, knowing that we would never have children. Knowing we would never grow old together. Knowing he would die. And it could all be blamed on one thing…heroin.

He knew me. He knew me better than anyone probably ever will. He knew I would eventually try it, with or without him. But if it was without him, it would be after he died and he wouldn’t be able to control the situation…neither would I for that matter. So he gave in.

He told me that he would do it. But only under certain conditions. He made me swear on my love for him that I would only do it twice. He said the first time would make me too sick to enjoy. That in order to understand, I would have to do it twice. But after that, I could never, for the rest of my life, touch it again. I made that promise to him. And I would sooner take a bullet to the head than break it.

The first time was, as he had warned me, an unpleasant event. I ended up getting pretty sick. But he held my hair and wiped my face, taking care of me the way I always took care of him. And that night wasn’t too difficult for him. He was glad I didn’t like it. He was glad I got sick. He was glad it caused me pain. He wanted me to hang onto that memory when I thought of heroin. But he knew he had to finish it. He had promised me he would and he never broke promises to me either.

One night shortly thereafter, he had everything ready for me. He tied off my arm, slid the needle into my vein and pushed the heroin into me. It was probably the closest we ever came to having sex. It was agony for him. He cried and cried and cried. Tears poured down his cheeks, dampening his shirt. And I saw the pain on his face. That moment, that act, that request was the cruelest thing I’ve ever done to another person in my entire life. That moment killed a piece of him that he never got back.

He loved me more than he loved anything or anyone. To him, I was the physical embodiment of love. And I made him inject me with the poison that cost him his life just because, in my own selfishness, I had to understand. And after it was all over, I did. However, that piece of knowledge had a very high price. But I wasn’t the one who paid it. Shane was.

I still have a scar on my arm from that needle…a permanent track mark. I hope it stays there my entire life.  Whenever I look at it, it reminds me what selfishness can do. It reminds me that some knowledge isn’t worth the price paid to attain it. It reminds me that once upon a time, a beautiful man gave up a piece of his humanity just because I asked. It reminds me that love and hate can easily exist inside the same moment. It reminds me that a man too beautiful for this world once loved me so much that he destroyed a piece of his soul for me.

Feel Like A Tossed Salad For Dessert?

As a woman quite fond of making grown men squeal like little schoolgirls who just received a lifetime supply of Tootsie Roll Pops, rimjobs are one of my favorite sexual activities. However, they didn’t always appeal to me. Like most heterosexual women, when the subject of rimjobs came up early on in the development of my sexual repartee, I would suddenly catch a case of the “yucks” causing me to appear as though someone had just dropped a pair of skid-mark covered tidy whities onto my dinner plate.

Luckily, I learned young that the best resource for a woman, where the male body is concerned, is a gay friend. So, I went to my gay gurus and asked if rimjobs were really that big a deal for a guy. Their response was an explosion of laughter. I took that as a “yes.”

After many hours discussing the finer points of analingus, I must admit, I felt a little dirty. It wasn’t anything I had ever thought I would actually want to do, but you just never know about these things. Every now and then you meet that special person who makes you want to roll them over and stick your tongue up their ass…that’s just how it goes, right?

The problem that arises for me, however, is that the men I am attracted to aren’t usually the types who will willingly offer up their ass for anyone. I tend to gravitate to solvent heterosexual alpha males, and for the most part, until I come along, having their salad tossed isn’t something they’ve ever felt really comfortable with. Getting them to let their guard down enough to admit wanting something soft and wet to probe their tight little virgin holes seems like a daunting task, but I’ve learned it isn’t as difficult to achieve as one might think at the outset.

Truth be told, the most exciting part for me is making the man want it enough to beg for it. There is nothing that will make a woman feel more powerful than having a big, tough, straight man bucking his hips off the bed and spreading his legs wide open as if preparing for a Brazilian butt wax. In order to make a man that comfortable with you, however, you have to do the work and put in the effort. It’s fairly easy to do, but the process cannot be rushed. It takes time.

When taking on the responsibility of giving a man his first rimjob, there is a tone, an attitude that I like to employ. Instead of being the aggressive sexual maven, I find it’s far more advantageous to be more of an attentive, coquettish, and uber-feminine sex kitten. The theory is quite simple. When dealing with the ass of a straight, dominant man, it’s best to be as soft and feminine as possible. It just makes things easier for them to process.

Discussing rimjobs in advance is not a fun conversation, but it is one that needs to be had regardless of the discomfort. You can go the easy way or the hard way…as for me, I tend to take the route that is easiest on the guy. If you’re unsure about his feelings on the subject, never just come out and say you want to bury your tongue in his holiest of holies. That’s a good way to send him straight into heterosexual man craze. He’ll then find it necessary to prove to you (either through words or actions) that he is not gay and does not want anyone fucking with his asshole, even you, regardless of what his real feelings may be.

The best way to get a man to do something he might otherwise have reservations about is to assure him that his compliance with your request would turn you on more than anything else he could do at that moment. If there is one thing that all men want, it’s to turn on the woman they’re with. It’s a sign of their manhood. It bolsters their ego…and a happy ego makes for a hard cock which makes for a happy girl…so if you stroke a man’s ego, everyone wins!

Trying to dominate him could be soul crushing and libido draining for both parties involved. No one wants that.

If I think I want to broach the topic of rimjobs with a man for the first time, I give myself a few days to build up to it. I find that opening his mind up through suggestion is the best way to go. So, for a couple of days prior to the conversation, I am especially attentive. I get him used to the idea of sitting back and being a little pampered. I shave his face for him (and head if he shaves it). I clip his nails (hands and feet) and take care of any problem spots on them, like sanding off heavy heel calluses. I leave sweet (or progressively dirty) notes in his car or rucksack.

After a couple of days of that kind of attention, I take the next step. I become insatiable sexually, making sure he knows all along that he is the reason for my lascivious urges. A couple of days into Operation Extreme Libido, I start upping the ante. I do everything in my power to keep him worked up all day long. I blow him before breakfast, call his cell around eleven and let him listen to me getting myself off, and then have him call me on his way home from work for some really raunchy conversation. By the time he walks in the door, the bulge in his pants will be leading him straight to me.

This is the point where I begin to plant the seeds of suggestion.

When he comes looking for me, I’ll typically be either in the bedroom or the living room watching porn. I’ll be sure to pick out something with several rimjob scenes. While we watch the movie together, I’ll become very aggressive with him during those scenes. I’ll also make sure that his eyes remain on the movie and let him see that I keep turning back to it as well. This works best with blowjobs because he has to focus on something. If he’s smart, he’ll figure out that the rimjob scenes do it for me. If his aching cock has his brain otherwise occupied, however, it still works as a sort of psychological conditioning.

When the movie is over, I’ll have him take off all his clothes for me and turn around. This is a very important step. When he turns around, I’ll give a deep little sigh or moan and slide my hand slowly over his ass…just the cheeks though. Then I’ll kneel down behind him and quickly give each cheek a little kiss; nothing weird or lingering, just a little slightly parted lip kiss. The guy usually thinks this is pretty odd behavior, so I make sure to do it with some playful charm. That tends to disarm any paranoia or cynicism.

For the next couple of days, I will touch, grab, or stare at his ass every chance I get, making sure he notices. I’ll also compliment it and make little noises of satisfaction every time he bends over or walks past me naked. (Of course, it does help if he has a nice ass to start with!) Soon, he’ll start doing these things on purpose for the ego stroking and because it obviously turns me on. And that is the key. Even more than women want to turn their men on, men want to be desirable to their partners. If a woman makes a man feel wanted—desired in a way that he’s never felt before—he will do almost anything to nurture that lust.

On the night I’ve decided to tell him what I want to do, I will be waiting for him in a very hot shower and tell him to come join me as soon as I hear him in the house. (Although, if I’ve done my job of keeping him turned on all day, he’s going to search me out as soon as he walks in anyway.) When he takes off his clothes and gets into the shower, I’ll kiss him deeply for quite some time. Then I will drop to my knees, making sure the water is hitting him between the shoulders to keep it out of my face and to keep him warm, and take his cock into my mouth.

While I blow him, I will grab both of his ass cheeks in my hands and gently rub them while pulling them apart so the warm water trickles down over his asshole. I won’t touch it though…just let the water work its magic. Because there is no real threat of anything penetrating him, most likely he won’t think anything of it. He’ll just link all the added sensation to the great feeling of the blowjob.

After he’s nice and worked up, I’ll stop and stand back up, grabbing the soap on my way.

I’ll stand directly behind him, with my breasts pushed against his back, while I kiss between his shoulder blades, suck on the side of his neck or nibble his earlobe (depending on height, of course), sliding my soapy hands all over his chest, stomach, and thighs. Then I’ll slide one hand onto his cock and the other onto his hip, moving a little to the side and behind him. I’ll whisper in his ear how much I love his tight ass, continuing to stroke his cock with my soapy hand while letting my free hand slide over one cheek.

I’ll whisper in his ear that I need to kiss his ass and quickly fall to my knees behind him before he has a chance to think about what I’ve said. Even though I could probably work my way between his cheeks at this point and have my tongue up his ass before he knew what was happening, I want him to want me to rim him. I don’t want to sneak in there.

I’ll slowly kiss the cheeks of his ass with an open mouth, sucking and biting a little, the whole time stroking his cock with my hand from behind. I’ll move closer and closer to his asshole and by this time, the guy will usually spread his legs a little bit…knowingly or not. It’s a clear sign that his body wants it, even if his mind can’t quite form the thought yet. At this point though, I don’t want to take advantage of that. I want the words from his mouth. I want him to know what he’s asking for and to be okay with it. And that takes more work.

After we’re finished in the shower, I’ll dry him off and lead him to the bed where we will make out, play around, maybe watch some porn, and just generally enjoy each other without having sex. When he’s all nice and relaxed and appropriately worked up, I’ll make sure he’s laying on his side and crawl up behind him, pressing my body against his from behind and draping my arm over his chest so I can twirl his chest hair in my fingers while I talk to him.

I’ll start off by whispering to him all the things that turn me on about him. And the last thing I will mention is his ass…and I’ll go on about it for a while as I slide my hand down over it, rubbing, caressing, and squeezing it as I talk—using my sweetest, softest, most feminine voice. The key here is to let him know, through my voice, demeanor, and actions that I do not in any way want to dominate him. That is very important. Nothing will make an alpha male shut down quicker than the feeling that a woman is trying to make him her bitch. And in order for him to allow you to toss his virgin salad, he has to know that when he’s in that vulnerable position, you aren’t going to do anything that might surprise him or make him feel out of control.

How you introduce the idea of rimming to your alpha male is crucial. You can’t just blurt out what you want to do. You can’t just look him in the eyes and ask. The very best way to go about it is to act like it’s not something you want to tell him…that it embarrasses you to feel that way. Make it more of a confession than a conversation.

Here’s an example:

Dark room, laying behind him, whispering in his ear while tracing tiny little circles lightly on his hip with your fingernail.

“Baby, I have a confession to make (insert dramatic pause). If I were to tell you about a fantasy of mine, do you promise not to think less of me for it?”

“Of course I won’t think less of you,” he replies in a sincere tone.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m weird or gross,” I’ll whisper barely audibly.

“Tell me. You know I love that side of you!”

“Okay…but please let me finish before you say anything because if you interrupt me I’m not sure I can get the words out,” I’ll softly respond.

“Go ahead.”

Very slowly, and with a little trepidation in my voice, I will tell him. “Well, I’m sure you know by now how much I adore your ass and how fascinated I’ve been with it lately. Now before you freak out, it’s not what you think (because he’s thinking at this moment that you want to bend him over and shove something long and hard inside him…which is also fun, but one step at a time)! I just…I know how great it feels when you…well…when you lick me and kiss me certain places. And it’s really made me want to do the same to you.”

(Deep breath.)

“It would turn me on so much to be able to not just kiss and lick the cheeks, but all of it. It’s really turned into a huge fantasy of mine lately…just the idea of having my tongue inside your tight ass makes me wetter than just about anything else. I can’t even imagine what it would do to me if you chose to let me do it!”

By now, my breathing would become a little labored and my voice, while still feminine and soft, would become more defiant and sure.

“Is that bad, Baby? Do you think less of me,” I would ask while reaching around and beginning to stroke his cock again.

By taking this specific approach to “the conversation,” it takes all the pressure off him. It’s not about him wanting a rimjob and what that might say about him as a man. It’s suddenly about making you happy…sating your sexual needs and desires. Therefore, he doesn’t have to ponder the ramifications of an act like that to his sexuality or think about dominant and submissive roles. And that’s a big deal to some guys. In his mind, his ability to satisfy his mate—to turn you on and get you off—is directly proportional to his masculinity. If giving him a rimjob is all about turning you on, saying no to you would make him feel as though he were less of a man.

He probably won’t say too much right away, but that’s a good thing. It means he is thinking about it, which means it’s gotten past the automatic “no” of his reptilian brain. As soon as you have him thinking, stop the conversation there and move on to something else…preferably incredibly rough sex because the more you let him exert his sexual dominance, the more likely he is to see it as his duty to please you.

After the seed has been planted, I typically give the guy a few days to wrap his head around the idea without even mentioning it or alluding to analingus at all. If I did my job right in the first place, I had his full attention when I brought the subject up previously, and for most, that’s most likely all it will take. But it’s very important not to rush him into a decision because it will not be the response you want if he’s not allowed to come to it in his own time. It’s never a good idea to rush an alpha, but when dealing with his sexuality and his ability to please, forcing an issue is tantamount to sexual suicide.

Leave the subject alone. He will not forget about it. In all actuality, he’ll probably think about it more than you will. He’ll bring it up when he’s ready. And trust me, he will bring it up. Soon! You just need to make sure your tongue is ready to spend an hour or so stretched to it’s limit, fucking his tight asshole when it’s finally offered up.