Sexual Snippets
It has been some time, too long since I wrote on this blog and there seems to be so much going on in the world of sex once more, so I thought I would start by writing a small, sexual snippets on a range of subjects to get my writing juices flowing, and hopefully some other juices whilst I am at it.
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People in the News
Robert Lindsay
A couple of weekends ago, the actor Robert Lindsay was in the news. Apparently, he had been out to celebrate the end of a theatre run, darling, and had run up a £1600 bill at Spearmint Rhinos.
The various newspapers that reported on this were trying to imply that there was a story here; that this married man should not have been cavorting with these lewd women in such a dirty place. However, dear Robert gave them a different story to cover.
His wife knew where he was and was allegedly perfectly content that he was out with friends enjoying a bit of titillation by looking at some very handsome tits. Not only did his wife know where he was but so did his son.
His wife knew where he was and was allegedly perfectly content that he was out with friends enjoying a bit of titillation by looking at some very handsome tits. Not only did his wife know where he was but so did his son.
There seem to be no sexual secrets in the Lindsay household and how wonderful is that?
Personally, I am rather delighted to know that Mr. Lindsay still has a healthy libido and enjoys the delights of looking at nubile young women. I am further delighted that the very lovely Ms. Ford, his current partner, recognises that such sexual excitement in her man’s life is not in any way going to deter him from wanting her. It is not a distraction or a threat to their relationship. Rather, the fact that they seem to be so honest about his sexual desires suggests that there is a greater chance of longevity in their relationship as this sincere honesty underpins everything that they have.
It does also show a determined liberation. Many actors would have run a mile at being photographed coming out of such an establishment. Many would have tried to shy away, possibly getting into some hideous brawl with the paparazzi. And this is where I admire Robert Lindsay for simply strolling out of the bar, a little worse for wear.
He was doing nothing wrong and so he didn’t have to hide. That was what he thought, so why not be photographed?
Perhaps he is such a big star that even being captured in legitimate sex places can do him no harm, or perhaps it is those eyes, that charm and twinkle, so that one could not possibly print a bad thing about him.
Perhaps he is such a big star that even being captured in legitimate sex places can do him no harm, or perhaps it is those eyes, that charm and twinkle, so that one could not possibly print a bad thing about him.
Sally Bercow
In direct contrast to Mr. Lindsay, Sally Bercow went on the radio yesterday to apologise for her sexiness.
She had posed for a photo, draped in nothing but a sheet with the esteemed tower of St. Stephen’s in the background. In the original piece that was written for a build up to Valentine’s Day in the Evening Standard, Mrs. Bercow had mentioned how sexy she thought it was to go to bed with the light from the Big Ben tower shining into her room.
So far so good, and well done to her for posing that way. She looked very erotic in a cheeky sort of way.
However, her hubby, unlike Rosemary Ford, was not amused and was concerned that this pose would have a detrimental effect upon his career. After all, this is parliament dear, and there should be no talk of sex in that institution, other than to pass legislation that supposedly protects us from this evil force.
Sally therefore went on the Radio Five Victoria Derbyshire programme to say that this whole incident had been a mistake, that she had looked a complete idiot and that she regretted posing for the cameras in this way.
What I would like to know is how Sally Bercow felt whilst she was posing. Did it make her feel sexy and alive? Did she want to dive into bed with or without the bed sheets having got herself aroused by this sexiness? If she did, then why on earth would this have been the wrong thing to do? How could it be idiotic?
Too many times in life, people push aside the naturalness of sexuality, and that is the idiotic thing. Too many times in life, people react negatively to this perfectly natural expression of sexuality, and that too is an idiotic thing.
Too many times in life, people push aside the naturalness of sexuality, and that is the idiotic thing. Too many times in life, people react negatively to this perfectly natural expression of sexuality, and that too is an idiotic thing.
I would have admired Sally Bercow much more if she had taken a leaf out of Robert Lindsay’s book and said “yes, I posed for a photo with parliament in the back ground. What of it? I like sex. I have a good sexual life and a healthy libido. If I happen to be turned on by screwing my husband with this phallic symbol of power behind me then so be it.”
But she didn’t because Brits just don’t do that sort of thing when one’s partner is Speaker of the House.
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The Joys of Teen Sex
This is a tricky one. I am all for people being honest about sex. I am all for people recognising that teenagers do have sex rather than pretending that they do not. However, there are ways of doing this and glorifying abnormal sexual behaviour is not the way to do it.
Let us get one thing straight, right here and right now. Sex is a wonderful thing. It is such a precious thing that it should not be entered into (excuse the pun) lightly. People should think very carefully about normalising sexual behaviour of, say, a thirteen year old. In my honest opinion, all that is happening with a child of that age is a physical act of sex. There is nothing about the real essence of sexuality in sex at this age. That requires maturity and an emotional development that simply cannot exist in the minds, lives and souls of such young teenagers.
So what should we do about it? We should think in terms of being sex positive. We should tell young people about the preciousness of the very best sexual experiences and that this really can only come later in life when you have developed a maturity and understanding of oneself, so that you do not become falsely reliant on either a person or that feeling of having sex. We should shy away from telling young people that they should not have sex. All they will do in return is mockingly state that if sex was such a bad thing then why do we, as adults, partake? Good response in my opinion.
But we should certainly help them in delaying their sexual activity, supporting them in maturing their emotional intelligence and making them see that there are also alternatives to penetrative sex that go beyond the idiotic 101 ways to make love without doing it rubbish.
But we should certainly help them in delaying their sexual activity, supporting them in maturing their emotional intelligence and making them see that there are also alternatives to penetrative sex that go beyond the idiotic 101 ways to make love without doing it rubbish.
I mean, is a rampant sixteen year old boy going to be happy walking arm in arm in the woods (no.13) when what he really wants is to get down in the leaves and shag his girl as quickly and urgently as his body is telling him to do so?
Or is a seventeen year old girl going to be happy with a gaze (no 39) when she wants her boyfriend or girlfriend to wander their hands across her pubic hairs and into her pussy?
Of course they are not but suggesting that they wank one another off or wank themselves off whilst a partner is looking on, well, that is certainly going to give them a whacking great big orgasm without the problems associated with penetrative sex, and it is obviously extremely intimate.
Wake up world.
Admittedly, I only watched a small section of this programme but it struck me as serving the sort of stereotyping that should not be happening.
The first participant in the programme was a girl of thirteen who had been taken to the lurve clinic by her mother who was concerned about her having sex. When she got there and was talking to the counsellor, she disclosed that not only was she having sex but on many occasions it was unprotected. By the time she got to the doctor to discuss the range of contraceptives available to her, she further disclosed that she had indeed contracted Chlamydia at the age of thirteen.
“That’s unlucky!” said the ever so politically correct young doctor.
Unlucky???? Unlucky????
This isn’t unlucky. This is downright negligent and the child should be told.
The trouble with programmes like this that are ever so right on and cooooooooool is that they have a tendency to normalise things that are not normal. It is like suggesting that all Texans wear Stetsons every single time that they walk out of the door – ok, perhaps not the best of analogies, or that all Japanese people have quirky sexual habits or that all Germans have no sense of humour.
All teenagers are not having sex. In fact the majority are not having sex, of any sort, let alone penetrative.
Yes, help this girl out, and the other person that I saw on the television who was scared of having anal sex but do it so that it is absolutely clear that these are not things that confront every teenager in the country the minute they lose touch with being twelve.
I deplore sensationalism of any sort. I despise it even further when it diminishes and belittles something that I hold very dear; good sex.
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And talking of good sex...........
Nobody, be it teenager, famous person or a simple pleb on the street should settle for anything other than the best sex you can have. Okay, a little bit of recreational sex to get rid of urges. Or a little bit of recreational sex happens just because you fancy a fuck or a person. Well that’s fine every so often but there is no substitute for the real all-encompassing togetherness of glorious, loving sex.
And yesterday I got just that.
It made me think as I lay in a comatose state of utter bliss how vital it is to have this in one’s life. I have therefore decided that I need at least one completely overwhelming session of sex per week. Ideally I would have it at least four or five times a week, at night so that I can drift off into a good six or seven hours of uninterrupted sleep, other than the times in the night when my lover just fancied burying his fingers deep into my cunt.
And in case anyone was worried that Zenpuss’s libido has shrunk. Be assured that it hasn’t. A good old rampant bang, or a quick shag on the bathroom floor will do me on a daily basis but I need that all out loving at least once a week.
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And finally for now.......
There is still debate about what is happening to a woman during orgasm. There is still debate, unbelievably so, about whether a woman is actually capable of having a vaginal orgasm.
I am interested in this area and have been doing some research both with my partner and on my own, checking what my body feels like after copious orgasms and also after a self-indulgent clitoral climax.
For me, and I appreciate that I am a lucky one, for I can spurt out all manner of fluids having being stimulated in the right way.
But what are these fluids if they are not urine? Where have they come from and why do I think I need to pee when I am excited?
But what are these fluids if they are not urine? Where have they come from and why do I think I need to pee when I am excited?
I implore any female reader to check this out. (Not female, suggest to your woman that she does this, preferably with you watching on).
Go to the toilet and release any urine in your body. Then give yourself a good clitoral stimulation so that you orgasm. Then see how long it takes for you to need the toilet. I suspect it won’t be long. When you go to the loo, just check the colour of your emissions. I suspect they might be extremely clear.
So what does this mean?
More later but do tell me of your findings and whether my hypothesis is correct.
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