Archive | April, 2011

At Home in the Erotica Section

30 Apr

It’s the coveted day off and all I want is a nice, juicy read.  Sure, I’m in the middle of Skinny Legs and All, but nothing says relaxation like a leisurely trip to the bookstore.  Rolling up to the Temple of Pages, I’m feeling pretty fine in my sexy Rosie the Riveter getup.  Ah, the smell of musty books;  Hello, Aphrodesia.

After a quick trip to the history section and a breeze through the fiction/lit room, I’m ready for something hotter and I know just where to find it.  Ducking into the erotica aisle, not bothering to avoid the stares of the info desk attendants, I feel vaguely scandalous.

I remember a time when stepping into the romance and erotica section of a bookstore would send chills up my spine.  So dirty, so dangerous, so inappropriate.  Today it’s no big deal.  Sure, it makes me a little more conscious of the visibility of my hands and nobody can shop for erotica without getting at least slightly turned on, so there’s that.  But I’m not afraid of being discovered with a copy of Slutty Lesbians 2 open in my hands.

So why is it that I rarely seen another person browsing for erotica?  Are they afraid of me?  Are they afraid of being found out?  Everybody jerks it.  Some people like to read erotica to each other and then jerk it.  I like to flag passages that turn me on so I know what to try when the boyfriend gets home.

I left the store with some Marquis de Sade.  Go out and buy yourself some erotica. Or write some.  Or email some to your sweetheart.  Nothing says love like a hot off the press fantasy.

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Shameless: A Review

29 Apr

Pamela Madsen’s book made me rethink my life.  Okay, okay, maybe that’s a tad dramatic (even for me) but dramatics aside, it was a truly excellent piece that could move even the most frigid nun out of the convent.  The gumption, courage, and outright kick-assery that it took to produce Shameless are the puzzle pieces I needed to start this blog.  If Madsen, fertility activist, wife, mother, and moral badass can document her journey to sexual discovery and inspire the liberation of others in doing so, then perhaps my sexual eccentricities on this blog can do the same.  BUT! Enough about my blathering, and on to the review!

First off, if the idea of a sassy New York mama getting her juicy butt smacked by a gay man in a sarong doesn’t do anything to pique your interest, I’d pass this one by.  Witty, rambunctious, and sometimes ridiculous, Madsen’s journey is full of color.  It’s hard for me to judge the racy factor and I haven’t had a gag reflex in five years, but as far as I can tell this book is spot-on sexy.

Shameless is an afternoon of fruity cocktails with your girlfriends, laced with intrigue and studded with a challenge to try these feats for yourself.  And trust me, you’ll want to.  Unfortunately for most of us who aren’t wealthy and successful business women, some of the details are a tad unattainable, but the intention is there. With no judgements and nothing held back, you’ll be looking for your own sexual retreat before you turn the last page.

There are parts of this book that aren’t for the faint of heart.  If you’ve never even thought of buying a pair of handcuffs (or aren’t thinking of it now that I mentioned it) you definitely will be when you finish reading.  Or we’ll all be disappointed in you.

So, anyhow, I HATE when reviewers give away too much of the book. And if you’re thinking, “She didn’t give away anything at all…this is bullshit!” then take a hike and read the book yer darn self!  Hope I got your mouth watering.

Saving It

26 Apr

I’ve been getting a bit of flack through the grapevine lately and since I’m incapable of letting things go, I’ve been dwelling on it.  Coming into this relationship with my military sweetheart, I knew that the views of his coworkers and fellow soldiers would be somewhat more conservative than his or mine.  I also knew that being involved with one of the army’s men would include me in the tightly woven community that’s formed on any military installation.  Knowing all of that it should have come as no surprise to learn that our decision to remain unmarried and rent an apartment together has met with some opposition.

I respect the differing opinions about when it’s appropriate to live with a romantic interest and I won’t lie, I definitely form an opinion when someone tells me that they’re saving themselves for marriage.  But why am I choosing not to save my “living with a boy cherry” until marriage?  Well first off, I popped that cherry (I’m nearing my one year anniversary of breaking it off with my previous live-in boyfriend).  And I can safely say that it’s a damn good thing that I didn’t decide to marry him before we lived together.  All the things I thought would change – his magpie/hobo/packrat tendencies, cranky mornings, and low libido – never did.

In all truthfulness, I have wanted to get married.  My modern sexuality and independence have no say when it comes to the old school Romantic residing in my head.  Getting married would make most of the practical aspects of my move to Honolulu disappear.  But my amazingly practical partner and I both know that the emotional stress of marrying one another after less than a year of long distance dating would be overbearing.  In the end, we just want to be together.  Sure, relocating my life (and books) across an ocean is a huge ordeal.  But if we are half as happy together as I think we will be, it’ll all have been worth it.

So, I hate to offend . . . well maybe I don’t actually.  But this is just the way it is.  My old school romance is taking a back seat on this one and letting her wild and crazy sister, Spontaneity take the wheel.  I can’t wait until they find out I’m bisexual.  And poly . . .

Morning Sex and the Hormone That Makes It Awesome

19 Apr

Chances are, most of you have experienced the groggy explosion of morning sex at one time or another.  And if you’re like me, a sexy naked person is just about the only thing capable of getting you out of bed in the morning.  So, aside from the obvious, why is morning sex so darn hot?

I’m not actually the first person to ask this (big surprise) and luckily the people who are answering this question are scientists!  According to them, the hormone oxytocin is at higher levels in the brain in the mornings, which makes this the best time for bonding with a partner.  This begs the question, what the deuce is oxytocin and what kind of sexy business is it doing in my brain?

I read a delicious summary of a study conducted at the University of California, San Francisco about oxytocin.  Because this is a blog and you read it so that you don’t have to read what other people have to say in their long winded essays, I’ll give you a mini-summary of their summary.

Basically, oxytocin is already used to induce labor during birth and plays a role in pair bonding in the animal kingdom.  This hormone is produced during massage and sexual orgasm in men and women.  While this study focused only on women between the ages of 23 – 35,  they concluded that oxytocin plays a role in adult bonding.  Women who had higher levels of this hormone when recalling a positive experience in a relationship claimed that they were better at being alone and setting boundaries.  Women who’s oxytocin levels dropped when recalling negative emotional relationships reported having greater difficulties with anxiety in relationships.

To me it seems kind of Pavlovian.  Person has orgasm. Person likes orgasm.  Person likes person who gives them orgasm.  But isn’t it cool that this feeling is heightened in the morning because of our hormone levels?

So that’s why we crave the morning nookie.  Well, that and there’s just no better way to start the day than with a nice juicy orgasm with your honey.

My Strip Club Cherry

16 Apr

Dolled up in fishnets and six-inch heels, I tottered into my first strip club last night.  The Lucky Devil Lounge hosts an annual Portland Pin-Up contest and I wasn’t about to miss it.  How could I say no to cute Portland girls in their lingerie?

The Lucky Devil was packed to the gills with bearded hipsters, corseted dames, and a motley crew of Portlanders just looking to have a good time.  As a small venue with only a handful of tables and an undersized bar, this club just wasn’t built to handle the sheer volume of people who turned up for the show.  Nevertheless, my two best friends and I eventually managed to find a decent vantage point.

As a strip club virgin, I didn’t know what I was about to witness, but after rubbing shoulders with a couple deliciously scandalous damsels at the bar, I was ready for anything.

Even though it turns out that the dancers were keeping things on the innocent side for the competition, (or as close to innocent as one can get when flashing a crowd), I found the performers to be quirky, eccentric, and sexy as hell.  With the exception of the girls who decided to mimic getting lewd with each other on the stage (if they hadn’t been so skanky I would have been drooling) the entire club exuded personalty and confidence.  Anyone who condemns stripping as a whole has clearly never been to a good strip club.  The women getting naked were in the ones in charge.

But let’s not forget that this was a competition.  The judges certainly didn’t, as they feasted like a group of Roman elites and slapped people’s legs in order to get a better view of the stage.  One would think that a group of judges who took their seriously enough to act like a group of royalty would have wanted to make more of an effort at being near the stage.  But what do I know?

My night came to a halt when one of the dancers barreled her way through the crowd with a saddle, knocking people to the ground in her eagerness to reach the stage.  At that point, I had been jostled enough and decided that it was time to leave the crowded bar and head home.  With a bit of a buzz and some interesting new experiences under my belt, I had some fodder for thought.

I just can’t stop thinking about the exotic comfort I felt through my entire night at the contest.  It felt natural to be in a room with naked women and their lavishing admirers. The crowd was hands-on in the politest way and I caught more than one patron comparing panties with some eager strippers.  I’ve always been intrigued by stripper memoirs and the act of stripping itself, but I don’t think I can go back to passively enjoying the culture after my experiences last night.  Even though I haven’t fit into a pants size in the single digits since middle school (blame the booty) and my breasts are slightly different sizes, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be turned down for my looks.  The truth is, the crowd seemed to get the most pleasure not from the women with the tiniest waists and protruding rib cages, but the women who enjoyed their bodies the most.  The heaviest stripper probably raked in the most tips because she owned her round butt and tiny breasts.  That said, somebody get me some heels and point me in the direction of a pole!

Where I’ll Be

15 Apr

Tonight I’ll be attending the Lucky Devil Lounge’s annual Portland Pin-Up Contest. Eleven lovely ladies will be competing for the title at what promises to be a steamy evening. This is my first strip club experience and I can barely wait!

Coming Soon! A Book Review

14 Apr

Check back later for some juicy thoughts on Pamela Madsen’s book, Shameless.