I Want My Daughter to Sleep with her Partner

I'm lying in bed naked with a seriously small vibrator, unable to pleasure myself for three reasons.

1. I'm bored of the miniscule size of the equipment that reminds me of the inadequacy of a three-minute shag with wee blokes whose own equipment (and imagination) was sadly lacking.

2. There's something wrong down below. One of the damnable ironies of life is that a tingling sensation of an unknown infection is a little similar to the onset of an orgasm from a vigorous finger fuck.

3. My daughter is lying a flimsy wall away from me, presumably pleasuring her partner whilst I turn an insipid shade of green that she might have a warm body next to her all night whilst I lie here, legs straddled awaiting nothing but a soothing gush of cold air.

The good news is that if I do succumb to the little plastic performer, it won't take too long to tickle the tingle into a more pleasurable sensation, and yes, I do conduct an extremely hygienic clean-up operation.

They're giggling now, which is always joyous to hear. Soon, they will go through the noisy rigmarole of closing doors and opening others, to convince me that one of them is transferring to another room for the night. I really hope they don't go through with it. I really hope that they have been comforted enough by my own unsubtle door closure and exaggerated switching off of the lights, to remain in the same room and spend the night together.

That said, gawd help me if I want a glass of water or a trip to the loo in the next hour - another reason for not pleasuring my pussy.

I want them to sleep together. There are many reasons I want them to do this, number one being the immensely, warm and wonderful feeling of waking up either in the arms of a loved one or lying next to them knowing that they want to be next to you, ready to take you at their moment of wakening.

But on a purely practical level, I want them to sleep together to prevent her getting pregnant, and whilst that may sound bizarre, there is reason rather than deluded madness behind such a statement which I shall explain shortly.

Okay, there's a slight confession to be had here. It's not very likely that she's going to get pregnant. She's been taking contraception tablets for a few months now, ever since I noticed a look in her eye, and a maturity in her tone when talking about her boyfriend, that suggested to me her virginal days were about to be consigned to the past. This boyfriend and this relationship feels different - to her and to me. The soppy, awkwardness of teenage droopy-eyed ‘lurve’ is gone. I'm not saying he is THE one; forever and a day until their last breath leaves their withered body decades from now (please no!) but he could be THE one to bring her further into the bewildering brilliance of being a woman.

Just hopefully not tonight. I'd much prefer her first penetrative sexual experience to be in slightly more intimate surroundings, without the nervousness of a potential and accidental visit from a sibling - walking in on her mid flow, or without a need to curb her cries of delight so as not to offend her seemingly celibate mother.

I want my daughter to be able to scream out in ecstasy as she reaches her first penetrative climax. I want her to be enraptured and vocal when seeing her boyfriend spunk for the first time, assuming, of course, this hasn't already happened. I want her to be able to freely walk round the room and house, stark naked after sex; celebrating her liberation into womanhood.

I want her to experience all of this because she's ready for it in mind, body and soul. On reflection, had I waited and learned a little more about what I was actually doing, if I had been clear as to what I wanted, if I'd known my own body more intimately, then my first penetrative sexual experience might not have been so tragic. Furthermore, had I known how brilliant sex could be from the outset, I wouldn't have put up with huge bouts of mediocrity in my sexual life, and had I not had to wait for the real thing of complete freedom and intimacy to do absolutely anything I and a lover wanted with one another's bodies, then I might not miss it quite as much as I do.

The best things do come to those who wait, and mature sex is gratifying in a way that the spring-like urgency of youthful liaisons can't quite manage. However, l don't want my daughter to wait as long as I did for consistently wonderful sex, to the point where its loss is so painfully mourned.

So why do I think that sleeping with her boyfriend might prevent pregnancy, and let's assume she's not using any method of contraception. Whilst we're at it, let's pretend she's not my daughter. Let's imagine that she's like many, many teenagers who don't have either sexually enlightened parents or the confidence and solidity of a relationship with their parent to talk openly and comfortably about sex.

In fact, let's imagine she's a teenager who has only really found out about sex from discussions with peers, a couple of reads through "Cosmopolitan" and a secretive visit to a porn site that she could only bear to watch for the briefest of moments for fear of her internet history being tracked by her mother (who finds such sites abhorrent and abusive). Let's also assume she's had an average sex and relationships education, or let's be even more realistic and assume that she's had the sort of sex and relationships education that most kids in this country have had - the highlight of which was learning how to condom a courgette.

Let’s also assume that like many teenager over the age of consent, she has natural sexual desires.

The urge to have sex is instinctive. Desire can also instinctive to some extent but it is more to do with intuition – a feeling and a recognition and understanding of what makes you tick. Put the natural urge to fuck, together with the reasoned and rational need to respond to the mind’s desire, and that’s a force to be reckoned with. If you add to this unnatural restraints placed upon young people by parents who are understandably trying to protect them from having penetrative sex, then you are potentially forcing them into unsafe situations.

We have to acknowledge that young people have these urges and that they are so strong that they could lead a young person to defy their parents. If they can’t have sex with their parent’s permission, then that doesn’t mean that they’re not going to have sex. It just means that they might do it in a fit of passion, or with coercion, without the calm and careful use of contraception, in environments that might not be conducive to the real world of sexual wonderment. Without a proper sex and relationships education that realistically explains the joy of sex, and offers real and viable alternatives to penetrative sex, they’re going to rush into a fuck without the delightful exploration of their own sexuality and their own preferences beforehand.

I really don’t want that for my daughter. I don’t want it for anyone’s daughter or anyone’s son. I want them to experience the truly rewarding and life-enhancing brilliance of sexual empowerment and enlightenment. I want them to delay having penetrative sex for as long as possible. I want them to know their own bodies first.  I want them to explore one another’s body before penetrative sex too. I want them to be very clear in their minds that they have thought of all the connotations of having sex before they fall into an instinctive reaction to attraction.

That’s why I want my daughter to sleep with her boyfriend. I don’t want her first experience of sex to be a quick bang whilst I pop out to the shops with her siblings. I don’t want her first experience of penetrative sex to be in a field in the middle of nowhere just because this is the only place that they can get some privacy (though I do want her to experience this urgent sex eventually because al fresco is gorgeously stimulating in the right conditions). I don’t want my daughter to rush into penetrative sex without having experienced mutual masturbation or kissing in those special places that we seem unable to acknowledge in sex and relationships lessons, and I don’t want her to think that she has to have sex in exactly the same way that she might have seen on porn sites.

I honestly think that allowing her to sleep with her partner prevents unsafe situations for sex and unsafe, unprotected sex. It also has the added advantage of, when the time is right, enabling her first penetrative sexual experience to be something that she can treasure for a life time, with a proper build-up and a full understanding of one another’s bodies.

I would like all sex and relationships education teachers to really consider the whole notion of being sex positive. Young people probably laugh in their faces when teachers stick to a curriculum of factual information, denying the joy of sex and advocating a “just say no” policy of abstinence. Young people aren’t that stupid. They know that sex is good because if it wasn’t then why is our society so full of the stuff? Why are comedians seemingly obsessed with sexual stories? Why are advertisers all too willing to use sex to sell their goods? Why are newspapers and other media outlets smothered with stories about sex?

It’s an integral part of life and the sooner we all accept this, the better for ourselves and our youngsters. We need to be honest with our young people and we owe them the opportunity to experience sex in the best way possible.

For my children, I don’t want them to have the sexual start that I did. I want them to have a healthy respect for sex, and a healthy respect for the sexuality of their chosen partners as well as a full understanding of their own sexuality. I want adults to stop being so bloody hypocritical, and remember what they were doing at the same age before they start lecturing their children about sex. I want parents to remember their own experiences of early sex, and if they were good experiences, accept that their children are ready for it too and make sure that they are given the best start in their sexual lives, and if it was bad, then do everything you can to prevent that from happening to your most cherished beings.

Finally, apologies for writing so much but as you can see, I’m quite passionate about the subject. 

A New Beginning

It's been just over a year now since I woke up in bed with a lover with the delightful and life-affirming joy of wanting to make love to one another. It's been over six months since I had sex, of any description.

Anyone who has read my blog will know that I am completely committed to ensuring that women have a full understanding of their sexuality in order that they can fully enjoy life. Whilst it pains me enormously to be without sexual pleasure myself that does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for bringing the full force of glorious sexuality to others.

My sexuality and my enjoyment of sexuality is in the intimacy I have with a lover. It's not and never was just about sex and physical desire. Anybody who knows me intimately knows that to be true. I don't lust after any particular person. I do "lust" after intimacy with a person - though lust is definitely the wrong word.

But that's just about me. I understand and appreciate fully other women who just like sex. It works for them on a purely physical level, and that is absolutely fine too.

Sex is a vital component of life, and coming from one who has experienced an extremely asexual life as well as years of being overtly sexual, I think I know what I am talking about.

Today is the start of a new month, a new season and brings forth the potential for new life.

I am not giving up on my sexuality and I am certainly not giving up on raising the awareness of female sexuality for others. I love sex and I want others to love sex too. I've had a horrible and, in my opinion, humiliating experience. Not being desirable to someone is one thing. Not being told is something completely different. It's humiliating, and that humiliation is the very greatest of turn-offs. This isn't about blame. It's an opinion, and I want this to be absolutely clear, I am not apportioning blame to myself or to others. Relationships are complicated. That's life. Honesty in complicated. That's life too. Sex can complicate. That also is part of life's richness, be it positive or the opposite.

Today, I want to reignite the very dormant state of Zenpuss. She has lived in a shadow of uncertainty and lack of fulfilment for too long. As much as she misses sex, she misses talking about sex too, and she misses her own voice in hopefully helping others to embrace the wonderment of their sexuality.

To this end, I shall begin to write once more, and hopefully, one day, I will have a note from someone somewhere who says that my thoughts and ideas have awakened or reawakened their sexuality.

Is Monogamy dead?

Is Monogamy Dead? Says the title of this article which is well worth a read, as are the many comments below the line.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/nov/10/sex-is-monogamy-dead?commentpage=all#start-of-comments

In response to this question many contributors and commentators alike say “was monogamy ever alive?”

Meg Barker, a relationship counsellor and lectures says “ It is interesting that we readily accept someone loving more than one child, sibling or friend without their love for one of them diluting the love for others, but when it comes to romantic or sexual love most people cannot accept it happening more than once at a time."

Catherine Hakim, a sociologist who has been controversial before with her notion that women should use their sexuality as “erotic capital” says "The fact that we eat most meals at home with spouses and partners does not preclude eating out in restaurants to sample different cuisines and ambiences, with friends or colleagues.

Anyone rejecting a fresh approach to marriage and adultery, with a new set of rules to go with it, fails to recognise the benefits of a revitalised sex life outside the home."

So true on both accounts.

Diversity in all areas of life should be explored. The fact that those of us who are polyamorous cannot come out and admit to it for fear of a multitude of repercussions is a crime against humanity, seriously.

But nothing is as simple and straightforward as having a yes or a no response.

For those people who do live monogamously in life, it is neither dead nor disgusting. It is totally about choice, and we have to appreciate that it works for some people – in fact, according to this article at least 50% of the population. For those who live polyamorously, this too is neither right nor wrong, though these relationships do have to be managed carefully whether they are open (all partner’s knows other relationships) or not.

What is wrong, however, is this societal notion that a multiple-relationship lifestyle is wrong when evidently, half or more of western society indulge in extra-marital relationships or relationships outside the primary one.

Polyamory can work. For those who choose, for many reasons, to hide their polyamory from their partner, it can work. It’s difficult. It’s hard work but it can be maintained and managed to suit everyone’s needs, even the person who has allegedly been cheated on. They have the satisfaction of the status quo, even though their intuition might be telling them a few home truths about what is actually happening. Don’t rock the boat, they say, and we can maintain this illusion to keep the peace.

For those who admit to polyamory, it can also work but it needs a healthy dose of honesty in order to do so.

There are as many forms of polyamory as there are relationships, and from experience, and bitter experience at that, it can be extremely difficult when what you thought you had bought into, through lengthy discussions on the onset of an additional relationship joining in with your own, turns out to be something completely different.
Of course, when you are embarking on a new relationship with someone, you don’t know where it is going to go, you don’t know whether you can promise or imply long-term commitment to your partner as well as having a relationship with another human being, but you can at least try in the initial months and indeed year, to remember what you had “agreed” and try to ensure that your initial partner feels as loved and as important as he or she always has.

Or you can fuck up. And then your partner can fuck up. And so it goes on.

I am whole-heartedly committed to polyamory and yet there is one thing that nags at me all the time. I find it extremely difficult to understand how people can be equally “intimate” with two people at the same time, despite the quotes above from Barker and Hakim. Ultimately, I do think there is one person that you turn to, one person that you are closer to, one person that knows you better than anyone else, one person that you are completely open to and with.

And this is where I have fallen down.  As the initial or primary person in a relationship, I thought, naively, that this would be enough. I’d done the right thing by accepting a partner’s need for other relationships. Wasn’t that a gracious enough thing to do? Did I have to lose the intimacy too, largely due to my inability to accept the equity of intimacy, exacerbated by the refusal of my partner (or whatever) to tell me the extent of his (or her) involvement with others or his (or her) other partner’s need and desire for something different from their relationship?

Simple answer is that everything changes. We are where we are. We live in the moment with the feeling that are happening now, not what happened before and not what might happen in the future. Yet this is far too simple.

Of course life changes, relationships change and so forth but they don’t have to change to the point of not being. They don’t have to change to be something that is totally distinguishable with what was. But it takes effort in order to do this.

When you are so utterly close to someone, it’s difficult to accept that they could possibly be that intimate and close with another but you just have to accept the fact that they can, and it really doesn’t have to destroy a perfectly brilliant relationship. But you must be honest with one another, and if a relationship is worth maintaining, then you have to work at maintaining it.

Monogamy was never alive and it was never dead. Serial monogamy is not wrong, it is perfectly understandable. Polyamory with a primary partner and additional others is a perfectly acceptable form of relationship (and of course, my preferred option). Polyamory with total equity within two, three or more relationships is completely viable too, despite my inability to come to terms with it, largely based on writing and words spoken that implied that this would never happen – which I still believed for a very long time.

All forms of relationship are acceptable and should be accepted within society, on condition that they are not abusive. Anything can work as long as there is open communication if that is agreed or complete silence if that is what has been implicitly been decided.

I live and I learn. I know what I want and I do not want monogamy, not now, not ever, neither for me nor any partner I may have. I may like periods of time when there is only me, but I would never, ever insist on monogamy however much I love the intimacy of a relationship.

The simple fact is that anything goes, and we should accept that and appreciate it, but it can only work if people accept that anything goes and live accordingly, and I know that I have not been able to do that, to my great detriment. It can only work if a decision for openness is adhered to, or the decision for secrecy is subliminally agreed with that “no questions asked” attitude. What you can’t have is openness and then a closure of that openness which leaves a person despondent and feeling rather foolish and deluded.

Life is harsh sometimes, and I really hope that one day we will, and I will, finally get my head around relationships and all the multitude of possibilities that comes with them.

It’s hard and I am still learning, still thinking every single day of how my attitude, my beliefs can and will change. I am completely out of my comfort zone at present, and one day, in the future, I will find an equilibrium that suits me, when I finally decide what it is that makes me tick.

But be assured, it won’t ever be monogamy.

..............................
A Footnote that have been considering all morning since writing this. The issue isn't about monogamy or polyamory. It is about respect; not just for the people in the relationship but the people who are alsoa ffected by the relationship. To say that it is cruel on the incoming partner in a polyamorous relationship to explain the extent of the relationship with the primary partner is just plain wrong, because by not explaining the extent of the initial relationship is cruel to the primary partner. Not respecting certain boundaries, at least in the initial stages, that can be negotiated and reviewed later is wrong. Not respecting people outside the relationship who are affected by its complexities is thoughtless.

All of these things need to be resolved in polyamorous relationships and then they can work most effectively and tranquilly.
Just a thought.

Cross-dressing, homosexuality or just plain sexual enjoyment

Dear readers, have a look at this letter from a worried ‘girlfriend’.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/oct/21/my-boyfriend-wears-womens-underwear

If you don’t want to follow the link, here’s a quick summary.

Girlfriend is worried that her boyfriend is gay because he likes to wear her panties under his work suits.

The great Doctor responded by saying that it’s unlikely that he’s gay but may be showing that he is a cross-dresser.

Wrong with a capital W, Dr. Stephenson. Wrong with another capital W from some of the below the line contributors who either find this appalling or continue with the old adages about cross-dressing.

From my own very wonderful experience, your man wanting to wear your undies is NOT a sign that they are a cross-dresser. It doesn’t mean they are about to reach for your nearest bra or your favourite stockings and skirts.

What it means is that they like having something of you close to them in a possibly quirky but utterly delightful way.

One of my fondest memories of my lover is receiving a text from him to tell me that he was not only wearing my panties, but was also wearing my tights on a cold day in February. My response? Reach out for the dildo and give yourself a delightful orgasm as you consider the wonderment of this man’s sexuality and his desire to be close to me even when I’m not with him.

I also have many photos of him dressed in an array of my lacy lovelies, with his bits in and out. They are extremely erotic photos and ones that I will treasure for the moment in which they were captured. There’s nothing kinky or dirty or coarse about it. In fact I felt it was one of the most loving things ever done for me and with me.

Wearing other people’s underwear is absolutely not a sign that someone wants to cross-dress. I would have worn my lover’s undergarments if I’d ever been given the opportunity to do so, and I hope that he continues to wear my panties should the desire take him.

Open your minds, lovely people, and start making those lovely sexual thoughts into reality. Wear each other’s clothes if it suits you, don’t think of it as a rocking great crime because it damn well isn’t.

And don’t think that just because your bloke likes the feel of lace against his own skin, possibly as a reminder of the delightful arse and cunt that is usually in it, that he is somehow deranged.

He’s not, and neither are you for enjoying it.

Nuns on the Sex Run

Can you really go from being a nun to a sex therapist? Of course you can. This woman, Dr. Fran Fisher, is living proof that this type of transformation can take place.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/oct/15/nun-who-became-sex-therapist

As indeed am I.

Not that I was ever a nun, you understand, though my behaviour was certainly akin to someone who had taken the vow of chastity.

Brought up in a strongly religious family where sex was never, ever discussed, the only chance of developing one’s sexuality was by going with your instinct and learning “on the job”.

I was always interested in the opposite sex. Come to think of it, I was always quite interested in the same sex too but that thought couldn’t possibly be contemplated, and it took me years to finally admit my fascination for the female form as much as the delights of penetrative sex.

But retrospectively, I was hopelessly naïve. I hid my masturbation for years, not even admitting to the person who took my virginity away from me that I was a perpetual wanker, and had been for many years. I even managed to separate the pleasure of masturbation and the climaxes that I could give myself with the first  and subsequent experiences of penetrative sex. Never once did I have an orgasm with this man. Never once did he touch my clitoris and make me cum. Never once did I know of my ability to spread my legs and shower the onlooker with a delightful spray of sexual juices.
And all because I was hopelessly unable to talk about my sexuality, and thus it was suppressed as much as the nun in the article above.

Enabling people to be honest about sexuality would overcome so many problems.

If only we could be honest about sex. If we were honest about sex perhaps we could have more love-making in the world.

A friend often talks of how women come into their own sexually when they turn forty, or thereabouts. The fear of unwanted pregnancy is passing. The notion of having sex for procreation is often over. The sex can now be enjoyed.

Only it can’t be enjoyed unless you talk about, and I’m beginning to think that there must be a distinct correlation between talking and doing here. Perhaps, if we could encourage women to talk about sex and stop feeling as though they are dirty in doing so, then perhaps women could enjoy their sexuality long before their fortieth birthday. If I’d felt at ease talking about masturbation, about my fascination for boobs, about my hunger for penetrative sex frequently, then I might have enjoyed sex in my twenties and thirties far more than I did.

I never demanded sex, never really appreciated it because I had no idea how capable I was sexually.

It’s time to talk, and we need to talk more openly now.

Wake up world.

This article blames Catholicism and various other suppressive tendencies for this woman’s inability to come to terms with her sexuality until she was older, but it’s not just the Catholics that are suppressed. It’s not even just the religious. We’re so frightened by sex that we shield our own selves from its joy and its wonderment. We’re frightened of screaming out and telling an astonished world that we want sex.

Let’s embrace sex and sexuality and stop another generation from suffering the effects of not having sex. Let's prevent them from having bad sex, and let's try and understand how difficult it is once the light has shone..........

Naomi Wolf and her Vagina

Tomorrow I shall be receiving my copy of “Vagina” by Naomi Wolf. This is a book that explores the neural connection between the brain and female sexuality. Whilst it may appear to many to be stating the bleeding obvious, myself included, it is clear that people have still not understood the true nature and power of female sexuality and the explicit and apparent differences between the types of orgasms us lucky women can achieve.

One comment, following my own comment on the Guardian’s Comment is Free page begged the question, “Do we really need another book about this? Why can’t we just get down to enjoying and learning through experience” – or words to that effect. There’s certainly some truth in such a statement. The best way of developing and understanding one’s sexuality is to have sex with someone that you can be honest with, with someone that you trust, with someone that will enable you to say what you like and what you don’t like without taking any offence.

However, there are still far too many women who don’t know what their bodies are capable of and therefore can’t even begin to understand the potential of their own bodies, unless these things are explored more thoroughly.

I often praise the Guardian because they are prepared to challenge, or certainly report on, female sexuality. Naomi Wolf is “one of theirs” and often the paper can be accused of a certain amount of nepotism in promoting their own. Yet it appears that Naomi Wolf has written a book that needs promotion.

On Woman’s Hour today, she described the link she instinctively felt between good sex and the brain. Even such an enlightened character as this was unaware that she had a pelvic nerve which was a link between the sensation of sex and the brain. When this was damaged, she could have satisfying sex but she couldn’t have the sex that she was used to which was an experience that intertwined the body, mind and soul. The sex that she had experienced and therefore understandably wanted again was all-consuming. Without this pelvic nerve working effectively there was a disconnection – a physical disconnection that no amount of loving and delight at her sexual partner could replace.

So she had an operation to fix her problem and lo and behold, she was back on course experiencing the brilliant sex that this woman was used to.

Incidentally, being a naughty type of gal, I have looked at her photograph before and concluded intuitively that this was a woman who enjoyed sex. You can tell if you know the signs.

Naomi Wolf also talked today about the link with creativity. She said that whilst this problem of hers was persisting, she felt that she couldn’t be as creative as normal. She went on to say that there has been some research in this area, whereby women who had experienced mind and body blowing sex had simultaneously realised their hidden potential to be creative too, and that when that sexual experience was no longer present, so too did their creativity diminish.

Yes, I can agree entirely with that, though there are other means of re-establishing the creative juices – it’s just that I believe that sex is the best way.

Creative and orgasmic juices unite. I know I’ve probably done my best writing with high levels of oxytocin and dopamine and all those unfamiliar words that are so integral to the sexual experience.

Oh and a lot of moisture. I like writing with moisture!

One of the things that alarmed me from the reading of the extracts below was Naomi’s response to the party that was thrown for her by a friend in celebration of the fact that her book had been commissioned. He decided to make some special pasta, shaped as individual vaginas, and he named the aforementioned food products as “cuntini”.

Personally I thought this was all rather wonderful. Not only had he made these pasta shapes but he had individualised them to celebrate that each woman’s cunt was unique.

Friends gathered at the party had a mixed response, and I would suggest that part of this was due to the use of the word “cunt”.

When are we going to embrace this word as a thing of beauty? I have a beautiful cunt and I’m damn proud of the fact that other people see it as a thing of beauty and describe it as a cunt. It is a cunt.

“Darling, you’ve got a perfectly, gorgeous vagina” doesn’t carry the same intimacy for me as “Darling, you’ve got a perfectly gorgeous cunt”.

Wolf says she has been misquoted about this party. In the paper, it said she was so horrified that the pasta had been produced that she had writer’s block for six months. Today on Woman’s Hour, she said that the pasta wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that it was served with sausages, implying that the “cuntini” was a mere accompaniment to the meaty stuff – analogies of male sexuality being more important that female. She also thought it was a little flippant and reiterated the jokiness of sex. Whilst I empathise with her, I would have thought this could have been a great opportunity to discuss sexual empowerment for women. Surely that is the whole point of writing the book in the first place.

If it had been me, I would have talked to the friend about what he was trying to convey with his gastronomic titillation and then discuss the appropriateness of this or not.

Naomi Wolf also talks about the female sexual soul. This too has been mocked but why. I’m damn sure I have a sexual soul and there is nothing I love more than sharing this with another sexual soul who understand precisely what it means to be sexually empowered as a female.

The soul is a powerful essence, as is sexuality. The two combined are the most potent thing in the world, in my opinion. Yet, people see it as an ephemeral piece of nonsense.

Not so.

Have a look at this paragraph from the paper (link below)

There is some discussion about what constitutes the "female soul". Looking back on a walk she took with a group of female scientists, Wolf recounts "that slightly wild, slightly inexplicable moment – when the wind, the grass and the animals had all seemed a part of what we were learning about ourselves". It's these kind of moments that have, over the years, contributed to a vague sense that while her heart is undoubtedly in the right place, Wolf is also full of hot air.

What the writer clearly doesn’t understand is when the female soul is connected entirely during sex we do learn about ourselves and others. We do feel inexplicable moments of togetherness and oneness – with ourselves, our partner and the world. So no, Naomi Wolf is not full of hot air at all. Anyone who hasn’t experienced this can’t possibly fathom the depths of wonderment of what she has experienced through sex.

Here’s some extracts from a blog (link below) written about the book that shows a certain amount of incredulity to what Naomi Wolf is describing.

Wolf says “"post-coital rush of a sense of vitality infusing the world, of delight with myself and with all around me."

The response “Blimey, I’ll have what she’s having” – missing the point that this is what the book is hoping to achieve.

Another.

"As the 'blended' clitoral and vaginal orgasms that I had been used to returned to me, sex became emotional for me again" says Wolf. The commentator on the Guardian’s response says “"Blended" orgasms? Is there a recipe book for that?”

YES! YES! There is! And surely that is precisely why we need these sort of books to be written and read. The stupidity of not understanding the massive difference between a vaginal (or cuntal!!) orgasm and a clitoral climax makes me fume! Whilst it may originate from the same area (some saying that a vaginal orgasm is actually clitorally induced!!), they are completely different experiences. Getting the two together is NOT beyond the realms of possibility and every woman should have the opportunity to experience them.

The author of this piece goes on to explain her concerns about becoming too technical about female orgasms, and whilst I empathise with her too, i.e we should lie back (or stand up) and enjoy it, there is still too much ignorance in the potential of women, their sexual soul and their sexual delight, and therefore we must continue to fight this ultimate feminist cause if we are ever going to get equity. Of course, that is just my opinion.

As indeed is this entire blog.

I conclude by saying I will write more once I have read this book. I may even have to change my opinion but please let us applaud a woman who is prepared to write a biographical graphic book about her sexuality in the hope that others will realise what they are missing out on.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/sep/02/naomi-wolf-women-orgasm-neural-wiring

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/the-womens-blog-with-jane-martinson/2012/aug/27/naomi-wolf-orgasms-vagina

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/sep/02/vagina-a-new-biography-naomi-wolf

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01mdg40

Fifty Shades of Forgetfulness

Before I launch into my commentary about “Fifty Shades” I would like to congratulate the author, EL James, on her incredible success. Anyone who manages to write a book with the sort of sales that this trilogy has achieved should be congratulated. Anyone who bothers to write about sexuality and get people to question their stance on sexuality, porn and erotica deserves a pat on the back.

However, and it really is a big ‘however’, there are problems. And they are big.

Having read the trilogy, I feel as though I could write a trilogy of comments in separate essays, which is what I may end up doing.

For all the positives of exploration of sexuality for the reader, there are problems with this book for me. Bullet pointing them does not mean the list is exhaustive. I may return at a later date to add more.

So,

·         There isn’t a single mention of female ejaculation

·         “And they all lived happily ever after”

·         “Dirty fuckery” is not erotica

·         The main character cums the first time she has sex and every time after, without any notion of an increase in her sexual enjoyment

·         BDSM is not the height of erotic sex

·         Dominant/submissive relationships are scary, dangerous and abusive; not something that the readers should aspire to!

·         There isn’t a single alternative word used for the vagina other than the phrase “my sex”

·         The language of climax is basic and unenlightened

·         Oh, and I repeat, there isn’t a single mention of female ejaculation

As I said, the list isn’t exhaustive, and I will return with more, and these bullet points are only commenting on the sexual content. The storyline is weak and predictable, the characters are deeply, deeply flawed and the repetitive nature of the descriptions of sexual climaxes are extremely off-putting.

Having said all that, I managed to get a few wanks out of reading, so it can’t have been that bad!

We are still incredibly fucked up about our attitude to sex. Even the most enlightened amongst us still grapple with the various complexities and contradictions, especially when it comes to the sometimes thin line between female empowerment through sex and the objectification of women.

It is a complex issue and shouldn’t be taken lightly. However, without the efforts of people like EL James we are never going to get the opportunity to discuss these issues and really consider our views on sexual matters.

The very fact that this book has sold so many copies both as published books and e-books shows that there is a market out there. The very fact that so many copies of the book have been bought by kindle readers also shows that many of us still want to hide away our secret interest in sex (and I realise that part of the increase in e-book sales is also down to the increase in usage of this method of reading).

I’m terribly excited by the whole phenomenon of a world finally putting their hands up in the air and saying, “Do you know what, I am interested in sex, and I like kinky stuff and I love that feeling between my legs when I am coming towards an orgasm, turned on by having a sexual encounter written down in front of me”.

All of this is great but is this “Fifty Shades” sex what people really want? Has it fully embraced the brilliance of female sexuality? Is it really erotic?

Sexual writing is difficult. I know because I have tried, and the danger of cliché is huge. (Ooh er geddit!) The problem really lies in the interpretation as much as in the writing. The author can describe a brilliant sexual experience that could be incredibly arousing for him or her but is devoid of sexuality for the reader. Sex is an incredibly personal thing, for all its sharing, and one person’s erotica is another person’s tedium. Every book has a reader at the end of it, and each reader is an individual. What works for one person doesn’t work for another, and therefore to write erotic prose that ‘does it’ for the majority is exceptionally difficult.

We also need to determine what we mean by Erotica.

For me, the whole point of erotica is the build-up. It is the enticement, the imagery, the imagination. For me, a photo of an incredibly beautiful woman, with the hint of sexual pleasure about to take place, is incredibly erotic. You may not even need to see her pussy or her tits. A hand carefully placed over her breasts or a mere pleating of a skirt within her fingers, inching the material up her thigh, is enough. It is my mind that creates the next step - without a massive description, and that is the most arousing. Whilst I was reading “Fifty Shades” with the help of a dildo, it was the pre-sex that was far more stimulating than the actual description of what took place with his “erection” and her “sex”.

The next issue I want to tackle is the whole BDSM as the ultimate sexual experience. Ever since Michael Hutchins died with a sexual act gone wrong, and others since, I get the impression that people assume that this is the only way to get a mind-blowing orgasm that cannot be experienced any other way.

Here’s the issue. Sex is a physical act but it is also all in the mind!

I really don’t think I need an orange stuffed in my mouth and my wrists tied together by my leather-bound lover in order to reach the incredible state of Satori that I already have experienced. NO amount of “kinky fuckery” is going to increase that heightened level of a natural high for me. I’ve had it, I’ve done it. I want it again, and again, and again.

It may be alluring. It may be exciting. I may get extremely turned on when I am tied up, restrained, blindfolded and yes, it is an exciting and erotic thought, but I cannot believe that this would give me a bigger orgasm than the one I get when I look into the eyes of a lover who is stimulating me beyond reason, getting the most incredible satisfaction from being inside me and sharing a climax together, simultaneously – and for me over and over again.

I know that I can get an orgasm from the kinky stuff, and they are good orgasms at that. But in all honesty, the very best sex is mind, body and soul, and nothing else comes near it.

The other issue about BDSM is the abuse.

Confession time……..

I like having a spank on my backside when I am clamouring on top of my lover, riding his cock to the greatest pleasure for both of us. I am hugely turned on by that. In fact, I can feel a glorious stirring as I write. But I am certainly not turned on by the idea of being physically attacked, abused or hurt, and the notion that within that spank, my lover wants to hurt me, is intolerable.

He doesn’t hit my arse because he gets some deviant pleasure from hurting me. It is all about stimulation and extending the sexual experience. It is not about being the dominant one, breaking his woman in etcetera.

Confession time ……………

I like playing the dominatrix occasionally, but never in an abusive way. I like demanding sex. I like telling my lover what I want and where I want it. I like to have his movement restricted with tied back hands so that I can get my jaw round his cock, when he is unable to move me away (not that he’d want to). That is exciting but I don’t want to whip him, I don’t want to hurt him. It’s just not the way I want it, and that is not to say that I don’t like a bit of rampant and urgent sex.

I like being fucked at the kitchen sink but I also like being fucked next to a coal fire, all naked and together, and I love being fucked in bed.

Sex is individual, and what works for some, doesn’t work for others. BDSM can be fun for some but it can also feel incredibly abusive as well, and it may well bring a hugely arousing and tantalising climax but such an orgasm will not be any better than a real Satori moment. I promise.

As I don’t want this essay to be too long, I will conclude with my biggest concern about the book.

Due to its extensive readership, this book could be seen as the ultimate sexual description. It may be some people’s first and even only description of what mind-blowing sex is like.

My problem is that it doesn’t include some hugely significant issues about female sexuality that manifests itself in the fact that there is not one single mention of female ejaculation.

If this woman is so damn turned on all the time, and if she is permanently moist, if she is getting her fair share of vaginal as well as clitoral orgasms, how come she has never dripped a droplet of juice out of her “sex” let alone had a massive gush?

Christian Grey, my boy, perhaps you’re not the great stud of a lover you think you are!

When I orgasm, I gush. Not all of the time but in honesty, very frequently, especially from a vaginal stimulation. What I am gushing out of my body is not piss. (See previous blogs on the subject).

This omission of acknowledgement of a woman’s ability to ejaculate from what is appearing to be a seminal book on sexuality, due to its popularity, is a serious issue for me.

Women cum, and they cum in all manner of ways, but please, please believe me, women gush. They are not just wet. They can explode if the stimulation and arousal is right. Women can even make themselves gush if they practice enough and learn about their own bodies.

And I love to gush which is why I feel so passionately about this.

At one point in the book, I forget which one, Christian tells Anastasia not to go to the toilet before they have sex. Why, she ponders?

Eventually he tells her that her orgasm will be intensified by having a full bladder!

Aaarrggghh!

Once more, we have a situation where there is absolutely no understanding of female sexuality. It isn’t a full bladder that makes an orgasm. It’s a full something but whatever splurges out of my pussy when I ejaculate has nothing to do with my bladder.

How do I know?

Well quite frankly, I’ve had sex on a full bladder and I still cum, and then release the urine afterwards. The orgasm is good, but it is nowhere near as good as emptying my bladder immediately before sex so I KNOW that there is no surplus in me, and I still emit the most incredible amount of built-up fluids and have THE most sensational orgasm.

I know!

When is someone going to write a definitive book about female ejaculation so that we stop shying away from the fact that it happens and the fact that we need to empower women to do what their bodies are naturally begging them to do?

I cringe with disappointment that the world cannot see this vital component of female sexuality and I am determined to put this right.

As it happens, water sports are my little fad. I love all things gushable from both male and female bodies. It is my “BDSM” but it is only a part of what sex is about.
Again, in the book when Christian said he needed to get a towel for Anastasia, I suddenly perked up. Finally, in the middle of Book Three they were going to get round to soaking a towel with her ejaculation.

Alas, I remained dissatisfied and the readers with no experience of such things remained in a virginal state about pussy explosions.

All he wanted the towel for was to protect the hotel furniture from the sensual oils he was covering his wife’s body with.

Disappointment is an understatement!

There were also a couple of comments within the book about peeing. Neither character would pee in front of one another, despite the fact that the fuck one another three or four times a day, despite spunking in mouths, despite a good amount of cunnilingus, despite doing unthinkable things with cuffs and blindfolds. The level of intimacy is immense. So what the hell is the problem with piss?

If people were more okay with seeing their partner piss then perhaps they would be more accepting of the non-piss that happens with female sexuality. Just a theory of mine, which is why I mention it.

So many people think that female ejaculation is urine. It isn’t, but even if it was, ensuring that there is no squeamishness about peeing could certainly alleviate concerns for women if they drip the juice, so to speak, during intercourse.

I am sure that EL James didn’t have any idea that her book was going to be as popular as it has turned out to be, and therefore her omissions are slightly excusable. But let’s not stop here.

The floodgates are open, if you excuse the pun. We cannot have this oversight. There needs another “Fifty Shades” without the forgetfulness of female ejaculation.

Keyboard to the ready!

More on Fifty Shades later, perhaps…………..

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/28/fifty-shades-grey-unerotic-savvy?newsfeed=true

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/woman/4401628/Fifty-Shades-of-Grey-boosts-naughty-mag-and-sex-toy-sales.html

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/28/fifty-shades-grey-one-million-paperbacks?newsfeed=true