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Jack's Answer
My turn-ons are pretty broad. I go for all the typical stuff: Full, round asses and soft, comfortable breasts where one can lay one's head and drift off to sleep. Sexy, pouting lips that hint at exquisite oral pleasure to come. Long legs. Pretty, scintillating eyes of any color. I like personality, intelligence, and sense of humor. I find all of these things arousing, and I acknowledge that most people probably do as well. The fact is, most of what turns me on is fairly mainstream. There is, however, one thing that comes to mind, and while it may not be universally sexy, it's definitely not the sort of thing that no one finds sexy but me. That one thing is glasses.
They say that boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses. If that's true, then I suppose thanks are in order; because the boys refrained from showing their appreciation for the cute bespectacled young lasses, they enjoyed it all the more when I did. Glasses are often a sign of intelligence - most people don't screw up their eyes from watching too much reality TV - and frequently symbolize quirkiness or geekiness. Often the preconception that comes with wearing glasses belie the reality, as most of the women I've known who wore glasses were quite wild and unpredictable.
Jill's Answer
Watching a man interact with a baby or a small child is one of the biggest turn-ons that I can think of that doesn't directly involve sex. There is something very exciting about seeing a Dad (or an uncle or in some cases even a grandfather) hold a baby with confidence, kiss her gently on the head, and talk to her in a reassuring voice. If he makes the baby giggle by tickling her or blowing on her belly, even better. Watching a man rock a baby in his arms, or even dance while cradling her can provoke not only a physical reaction in me, but a very strong emotional reaction as well. If the child is a toddler and he's dancing with her standing on his feet, it brings tears to my eyes.
It really depends on the guy, of course, but watching a strong man be so tender and loving toward a child, without reservation or self-consciousness, is sexy. A guy who I wouldn't ordinarily find attractive can completely change my opinion based on how he acts with a baby. I don't know why I feel this way, but it's very real to me. I can't be the only woman who is so effected by witnessing a man's paternal instinct. I see this a lot with Jack. He's hardly the sort of man to adopt a tough, macho exterior. But when I see him hold our daughter, talk to her, or play with her, it melts my heart, especially if he doesn't know that I'm watching. -
The main factor that motivated us to begin this blog in September 2008 was our need for an outlet in which we could talk about sex. We have always been pretty honest about our enjoyment of sex, and we despise the current societal attitude whereby sex is seen as taboo, something that can be joked about, poked fun at, but never addressed seriously as something in which two or more (or for that matter, just one) consenting adults might indulge of their own free will, and actually enjoy.
Think about it: These days we can talk about almost any topic in a social setting. Even politics and religion, two things that once were simply not discussed in polite company, are now fair game. But sex? Try bringing up your sex life in the bleachers at your kid's soccer game and see how quickly the other parents look at you like you're some kind of deviant. And if your morning water-cooler talk happens to shift from American Idol to the wonderful oral sex your significant other gave you the night before, you can bet you'll be called into your supervisor's office.
This widespread reticence with regard to sex is bewildering. After all, sex is a normal biological instinct. Much like eating, sleeping, and (hopefully) bathing, it's something that everyone does, or at the very least something that everyone wants to do. The notion that it's something to be ashamed of, discussed only in a whisper, or viewed with an unfair gender-based double-standard, is unfortunate and misguided.
We are fortunate to count amongst our friends a handful of people who, like us, are comfortable talking about their sex lives in sometimes-explicit terms; people who aren't uncomfortable with their naked bodies; and people who enjoy watching pornography in a medium-sized group setting. However, in September 2008 we were living hours away from these people. We knew almost no one in our area beyond family members, and what few friends we had were the sort who, were we to broach the topic of sex, would likely shudder at the sound, then offer to pray for our eternal souls.
The creation of this blog was one of many steps we've taken in order to rebel against the widespread defamation and fear of sex. It was subtle rebellion, certainly, but rebellion nonetheless. While we did not physically protest the religious establishment and the right-wing politicians who seek to oppress not only women but anyone who enjoys non-procreative sexual activity, the blog was a constant reminder of how important sex was to us - and for that matter, still is - and of the need to constantly remain in motion lest our sex life become stagnant and uninspired.
At first, we enjoyed documenting our fantasies, sex dreams, and notable episodes from our sexual histories. We enjoyed the exhibitionism of these writings, and didn't mind the fact that most of the feedback we received was from some of the aforementioned open-minded personal friends. After all, we weren't blogging for the interaction so much as we were blogging so that our sexual sides could have a voice.
Before answering the second part of this question, i.e. what keeps us going some three and a half years later, it's necessary to point out that this blog was dormant for more than a year. The reasons for our extended hiatus have been explained in-depth elsewhere on our blog, and though we have returned with a vengeance, it's worth noting that while we were absent, we had no plans of ever blogging again.
Since resuming our blog in August 2011, a number of factors have provided us with motivation. The greatest motivator still is - and always will be - the sexual outlet with which blogging provides us. In fact, it is perhaps more important now than it was in the beginning. The fact that we are now parents and means that we are ironically viewed by others as less sexual. Presumably the well-meaning friends and relatives who've occasionally joked about our sex lives now being over are drawing on their own experiences after becoming parents, though we seem to be doing all right.
Additionally, some of the sex-positive friends we have accumulated over the years have grown more conservative and less open as a result of parenthood or other factors, or have moved out of the area or have otherwise drifted out of touch. Without this blog, there would be virtually no public forum for our sexual sides. Which leads right to the next factor.
We also blog for the social interaction. This is something that was almost completely unexpected. In the early days of our blog, the only regular commenters were a handful of the aforementioned sex-positive friends; feedback from other bloggers was very sporadic. However, it wasn't long after our return before we realized that people were reading us, and for the first time ever, commenting in decent-sized numbers.
Possibly the greatest reason for our blogging as we do currently, i.e. with the sort of shocking regularity that has yielded 233 posts since August 2011 compared to just 124 posts during the previous thirty-five months, is our need to maintain a steady blogging pace in order to ensure that we never again go very long without posting something. It may seem like a case of quantity versus quality - we've discussed this at length in the past - but we have convinced ourselves that if we stop blogging regularly, we will stop blogging altogether. Like a shark, we are compelled to keep moving. Together, we are the Sarah Winchester of the blogosphere.
Truth be told, we like the pace at which we blog. It's sometimes difficult, often hectic, and frequently makes us feel like we are once again in college, albeit with the added stress of mortgage payments, full-time employment, and a baby. But we take pride in knowing that someone is reading what we write, and hopefully enjoying it. While we'd never consider blogging solely for our audience, the fact that such an audience actually exists, and wants to read what we write, is a major motivator in and of itself. -
Jack's Answer
This was a very difficult question for me to answer. Unlike Jill, I'm fortunate to not have a sexual experience that sticks out negatively in my mind. I don't have a story about a shotgun-toting overprotective father coming home while I was fucking his daughter doggy-style over the arm of the sofa. I don't have a story about a fortysomething divorcee who, once the sex was over, told me that we had sinned and now needed to kneel before Jesus and pray for forgiveness. I don't have a story about a Craigslist hookup gone completely wrong. I don't have a story about falling asleep in a stranger's apartment and awakening in a bathtub full of ice with my kidney missing. I don't have a story about unexpected or unwanted pegging. (Actually I do; it was this week's Flash Fiction Friday.) I don't have a story about getting head from a woman who afterwards revealed herself to be physically male. (Actually, I do; it's The Crying Game.*)
It's true that when I was single I didn't have many bad experiences, but I also usually had a very positive outlook about sex. To use Academy Award terminology, it was an honor just to be nominated. I was happy to be getting laid, and never really considered that being on a different sexual wavelength than my partner made the sex bad. Everyone is different, after all. There were times when the sex wasn't particularly spectacular, especially with someone I'd just met. There were times when I didn't get off. There were times when my partner was not especially good at it, or even bad at it. There were times when my partner was just not into it. There were times when I was just not into it. There were times when I was fucking beneath my station, so to speak. (Don't look at me like I'm some kind of arrogant asshole - there were far more times when my partner was fucking beneath her station.) But of all these examples, there is absolutely nothing that I can say was so awful that I would have been better off staying home.
I'll tell you what makes for a really bad sexual experience. It's something that I experienced more than a few times during my twenties. It involves going to a bar, trying desperately to pick someone up by the time the place closes, failing to do so, returning to my apartment, masturbating, and going to sleep. And you know what? Even that wasn't so bad.
Jill's Answer
If you've been reading our blog for awhile, you probably already know about the incident I consider the worst sex I've ever had. It occurred pretty early on in my sex life, and I'm very proud of the fact that I didn't let it shape my attitudes about sex, trust, and relationships forever.
I was dating a guy who was pretty hung, and the sex was really good. He was also preoccupied with anal sex, and even asked for it the first time we had sex. I'd never had anal sex before and I wasn't ready to start. Even if I was, I would have had a lot of apprehension about taking a cock as big as his in my ass. He and I had been dating for three months, and one Saturday morning we were fooling around in his living room. I'd just finished giving him oral sex and he bent me over the couch and fucked me doggy style, my favorite position. Right out of the blue, he pulled out of my pussy and literally slammed it in my ass. He made it about halfway in. I screamed, and then I cried. It hurt worse than I could have imagined, and I went into shock as a means of dealing with the pain.
I didn't really do anything to make it better while it was happening. He was only inside me for fifteen seconds, but the pain and the shock took a lot longer to wear off. He initially claimed that it was an accident, but as he had been asking since almost day one for anal, I didn't believe him. Later he confirmed my doubts when he contradicted his earlier claim by saying he thought I would enjoy it. I couldn't trust him, and the fact that he was unconcerned with my feelings meant that he and I could go no further. I broke up with him soon after. He just wasn't the person I thought he was. No, I mean he literally wasn't the person I thought he was. The name he had given me was a fake name.
Because of this experience, it took me a very long time to try anal again. But I'm very glad that I did. With the right person, someone who cares about me and is considerate of my feelings and of my enjoyment of it, anal is awesome. I was worried that it would be difficult to trust my next sexual partner. But I realized that it wasn't fair to judge the next guy based on the actions of some asshole and his obsession with my asshole. -
Before we can tell you about our wedding night, we should first tell you a bit about our wedding day. We had a church ceremony, followed by a very lavish reception. We hosted all of our close friends and family members, and after a sumptuous dinner we danced and partied with all the people we love most. It was the most extravagant bash we've ever attended, and we were the center of attention!
At eleven o'clock, the party wrapped up, and the afterparty began. Around thirty guests, mostly siblings, cousins and friends, accompanied us to the hotel suite where I'd spent the night before, and where my groomsmen and I got ready that morning. There, the celebration continued. We drank, listened to music, and caroused. As the night wore on, the dense crowd slowly whittled away, and by the time the afterparty was over at four o'clock, the only people still present were a couple of Jill's brothers. We let them crash there for the night. Jill and I headed to the opposite side of the hotel, and the suite where she and her bridesmaids had gotten ready before our wedding.
As she unlocked the door, I prepared to carry her over the threshold. "Are you crazy?" she asked me incredulously.
"What?" I asked. "It's tradition."
She pointed out that I was drunk, and likely to fall and knock us both unconscious. Or, less dramatic and probably more likely, throw out my back. In truth, I wasn't that drunk; I was definitely lucid, and so I stood firm: "Just for a second. I'll lift you, step into the room, and set you back down." I'm not sure how I convinced her that she was in safe hands, but she relented. Now, we're sure you're expecting, or even hoping, to hear that as soon as I picked her up I stumbled drunkenly and slipped, sending both of us toppling unceremoniously into our bridal suite, possibly with injuries. But in fact I did manage to maintain my footing and gently set my new bride down on her feet.
Wait - hoping? Were you hoping to read that? Shame on you.
Once the room door was closed, we sat down on the bed. We each told the other we loved them, and kissed. While it was a passionate kiss - despite the lateness of the hour we were certainly feeling passionate - it wasn't the sort of full-blown makeout session that you just know is going to lead to sex. That is not to say that we didn't want sex. We did. We always do. But speaking only for myself, it wasn't the first thing on my mind.
There are several reasons for this. First of all, we didn't stop having sex prior to our wedding. We know that pre-wedding abstinence is popular with sexually-active couples; our friends and some of our relatives took part in this before their own weddings and assumed we would do the same. We had no intention of ceasing our premarital relations; putting Jill and I in close quarters, giving us privacy, and expecting us not to have sex is ridiculous. Simply put, for us there was no point to abstinence.
Sure, there are those who insist that it made their wedding night special, sexier than it might have been otherwise. I suppose we could see it from that perspective had we retired for the night at, say, midnight as opposed to four o'clock. At any rate, the notion of wedding night sex was, to us, purely symbolic. We knew that sex on our wedding night would be fun, sexy, and exhilarating. But so was the sex we'd had the night of our rehearsal two days prior.
Make no mistake, I spent much of the day fairly aroused. In fact, prior to the ceremony I told Jill off-handedly that I wanted to have sex with her in the limo. (It didn't happen; even had we gotten a moment to ourselves, there was no way she was going to risk messing up her dress before the wedding.) It's just the way I am; I would be thinking of sex while in an audience with the President of the United States*. But that night, our priority was to prolong the party, and to bask in the feeling of love and togetherness - not just between the two of us, but our family and our friends as well - for as long as we possibly could.
We took off each other's clothes and got into bed, lying in a warm embrace. I was enjoying the buzz I'd been riding, and the sense of emotional well-being I got from being a newly-married man. I fully intended to drift off to sleep, then wake to early morning sunshine pouring in. The thought of starting our first full day as husband and wife put a smile on my face as I fell asleep.
"I'm going to need you to fuck me," Jill said. Though my eyes stayed closed, I returned to a semblance of consciousness.
"You want to?" I asked. I probably shouldn't have sounded so indifferent. I blame being almost totally asleep.
"Don't you?"
My eyes opened. "Hell yes."
"I just want you inside me," she said. "I know it's late and we have to be up early. I just want your cock inside me."
"Of course," I said, and moved her onto her back. I would indeed fulfill her request, though I had something else in mind first. I began with cunnilingus; she was highly aroused, her pussy wet, and very tasty. Long, slow strokes of my tongue over her vaginal lips brought her to the edge of orgasm. Her fingers tangled my hair as I slowed my rhythm, the sounds of her labored breathing filling the quiet room.
Despite my fatigue, I kept her on the brink of climax for around twenty minutes, her thighs pressing ever tighter against my face, her hands growing more demonstrative as she steered me where she wanted me to go. When I could tell that she needed release, I switched from slow strokes on her lips to more rapid flicks on her clit. She came explosively, writhing and moaning as her pussy ground against my face.
When she had come down, I asked her how she wanted it. She chose doggy style, and moved to the edge of the bed. As I stood on the floor at the side of the bed, Jill lowered her face to the sheets, and raised her ass up to meet my cock. I slipped inside of her still-dripping pussy, gripped her hips, and buried myself as deeply as I could go.
Jill moaned as she felt my cock slide against her G-spot. My thrusts were strong and confident, their profundity matched only by their intensity. I moved faster, intent on my own orgasm which I knew was not far off. I was tired, yes, but I wanted the sex to last. I wanted the whole night to last. I tried to distract myself - I don't usually think of baseball, but it was something like that - and managed to hold my climax at bay for another several minutes.
Soon, though, it became clear that I couldn't hold off my orgasm forever. Jill's pussy felt too good, her naked body before me looked too good, and the noises of pleasure she was making sounded too good. I gave in.
"Where do you want me to cum?" I asked breathlessly.
"My mouth," she said. "I want to taste it."
At that moment I announced my orgasm and pulled out. Jill quickly rolled over onto her back, hanging her head off the side of the bed. My cock plunged between her parted lips, her throat relaxing as she sucked me deeply. As I ejaculated, I moaned ferociously, suddenly forgetting that it was nearing five o'clock in the morning. Jill swallowed hungrily.
As we drifted off to sleep, I remember thinking that Jill's choice of doggy style for our first sexual position as husband and wife was further evidence that I'd found the right woman, and her initiative in finishing me off by mouth was moreso. -
Jack's Answer
My first kiss occurred in the seventh grade. A few girls approached me at lunch one day and told me that their friend wanted to kiss me. It seemed like a strange request to me; while I was interested in kissing, I didn't think that's how it worked. Still constrained by traditional gender roles, I thought it was my responsibility to make the first move. Though I didn't particularly like the girl who wanted to kiss me - I was far more attracted to a Jewish girl with a bad reputation who sat in front of me in woodshop - I liked the fact that she came to me. At twelve years old, I really needed the ego boost her interest provided.
We kissed in the schoolyard one day not long after, either at recess or lunchtime. A small crowd had gathered, not unlike the crowd that gathers when two boys fight after school. The kiss was okay, not particularly memorable save for the fact that it was my first. It was neither a long, slow, passionate kiss - we were twelve - nor was it a quick "Let's get this over with so we can say we did" kiss. It seemed to me at the time that we wanted the kiss to be more intense than it actually was, but we weren't about to tongue wrestle. Overall, I enjoyed the experience. It was a relief to finally kiss a girl.
Shortly afterwards, her friends asked me if I wanted to go steady with her. It's kind of weird that she was still having her entourage do the talking for her even after we kissed, but she was a shy and soft-spoken girl, so I can probably let that go. At any rate, back then I saw nothing strange about it; I wasn't familiar with dating protocol, for lack of a better term. I had enjoyed the kiss, and I wanted to kiss her again, more often, maybe even with tongue, but at twelve I was mature enough to know that I wasn't ready to be someone's boyfriend. How could I? I wanted to play Nintendo and watch cartoons. I had very little money and I obviously didn't drive; the extent of our dating relationship would likely have included going to the mall or the movies. In theory I could have walked her home, but she and I took different buses and the two of us lived pretty far away from one another. I wasn't about to drop a dollar on a bus ride to her house, walk her from the bus stop to her front door, and catch another bus home. Simply put, I wasn't ready. I liked kissing, but I still wanted to be a kid. So I told her friends that I didn't want to go steady because she was too short for me. It was the only thing I could think of.
I'm pretty sure she and I never talked after that. Now that I think of it, I don't think we ever talked prior to the kiss. We went to different high schools, and other than a bit of guilt over hurting her - something I chalk up to the same adolescent immaturity that precluded me from going steady with her in the first place - over the years I didn't give her the amount of thought one might give his or her first kiss. Then one day she added me as a friend on Facebook. I'm pretty sure we've never exchanged a word, never commented on the other's status, never posted a happy birthday message. I'm tempted to ask if she remembers what an asshole I was when I was twelve.
Jill's Answer
I had my first kiss when I was in the fifth grade. I must have been ten years old. I was attending a birthday party at the home of one of my classmates. The entire class had been invited. Sometime before the cake was served and presents were opened, we played Spin the Bottle. The person I had to kiss was a cute blond boy with blue eyes. The kiss itself wasn't really good or bad, it was just a quick, awkward peck on the lips. The only aspect that was memorable was the situation, at a party in front of our entire class. Under different circumstances such a lackluster kiss would have long been forgotten by now.
The entire experience was nervewracking, not just the kiss but the entire game. As the bottle spun, I was filled with anxiety as I wondered who it would land on. Would it be the gross boy in class? Would the boy I had to kiss make fun of me afterwards? Would my classmates point and laugh at the way I kissed? Would they tease me at school afterwards? I was so nervous, and I vividly remember having butterflies in my stomach. But the kiss was over quickly, and then it was the next person's turn to spin the bottle. None of the other kids focused on us for too long, if they even focused on us at all.
My first real kiss, outside the boundaries of a childhood game, happened when I was thirteen years old. I was at a party, slow dancing with a cute boy to Madonna's song "Crazy For You". In the middle of the song, while we were dancing, he leaned in close and kissed me. Compared to my previous kiss, this one was a lot more exciting. We even opened our mouths and moved them a little, although there was no tongue. I had butterflies in my stomach, but it was a completely different feeling than it was during the other kiss. That time, I had been consumed with anxiety and nervousness. This time, I was excited.
I liked this boy a lot. He had dark hair and dark eyes, the complete opposite of the guy I kissed in the fifth grade. That, more than anything, is my "type", to this day. After the dance, we talked on the phone a little, but nothing really came of it. Still, he was a nice guy, and we stayed friends. I never got the sense that he was using me, or that there was anything less than genuine about the kiss. As far as first real kisses go, it was as good as I could have hoped. -
Jack's Answer
In the sense that I've donned a feather boa and danced around to "Smack That" while slowly and seductively removing my clothes, no I have not. I'm not sure why I haven't done this; I'm certain it would be the hottest thing you've ever seen.
However, in the sense that I've gotten naked on cam with someone watching me, yes I have. Many times, in fact. I may have a huge voyeuristic streak, but I'm definitely an exhibitionist as well. The first time I used a webcam was around 2001. I'd been dating someone who lived a couple hours away from me, and for Christmas we each bought the other a webcam so we could see each other even when we weren't physically close. Of course, the thought of watching each other get off was at the forefront of our minds, and we did this quite often.
After we broke up, I found myself using the webcam while chatting on Yahoo! Messenger. Once in awhile I managed to "cam-to-cam" with someone, and if she got naked I did as well. Even though they were just on webcam, sometimes it was a decent substitute for actually going out and trying to get laid.
When Jill and I lived apart, webcamming was a way of life. We would use Yahoo! Messenger, and later Skype, as a means of maintaining intimacy despite the distance between us. We would usually get naked and masturabte on cam once or twice a week, as our schedules permitted. Generally this would happen right before bed. It was a very sexy way to wrap up a long day.
I've also cammed with a few female friends of ours. Though it was a considerable thrill to get naked with a random person whose name I didn't know and who I'd never actually meet, I can think of very few things more exciting than seeing someone naked after knowing them for years. If she's busily masturbating, even moreso. I hope they felt the same way.
Jill's Answer
Of course! I used to love getting naked on webcam. In fact, I still do, but I don't do it as often as I wish I could. It was such a sexy exhibitionist thrill to show off, especially if the person or people who were watching were getting off.
The first time I ever stripped on webcam was some time after I graduated college. I had moved back in with my parents. The only computer in the house was in my Dad's home office. It was well after midnight, and I snuck in and locked the door. I wasn't about to turn on the lights, because I never knew who might get up to get a drink of water in the middle of the night, see the light, and come to investigate.
I had been chatting with this guy in a chat room, and after awhile I agreed to flash my breasts. Of course, after he told me that they were the best he'd ever seen, I agreed to take off my top. (Flattery will get you everywhere.) We continued to chat, and I slipped my hand beneath my bra and rubbed my nipples. Eventually I stood up and performed a slow striptease, taking off my bra, skirt, and panties while the guy masturbated.
After this experience, I began to frequent chat rooms on a regular basis. I would have cybersex frequently, and once in awhile I would get on cam and strip or masturbate for the lucky guy. I enjoyed being able to turn these men on. I enjoyed the tease, and I found it to be a wonderful ego boost.
Of course, Jack and I have had sex on cam many times with different people watching. While we have occasionally cammed for random couples, most of the time we've done it for close friends. -
I'm not sure how the Liberator Throe first came to our attention, but as changing the sheets between sex and sleep had long been a common occurrence for us, this very unique blanket was something that we had to have. Anyone who's been reading this blog for any length of time is aware that when we have sex it's often very wet and slippery. Jack and I are big fans of G-spot play and fisting, and both can be messy. We used to use towels to protect our bedsheets, but because I tend to be a voluminous squirter, we often found ourselves at the end of a session wishing we had a towel large enough to cover the entire bed.
Jack got us our bright red Throe for Christmas 2006. Having heard quite a lot about the unique properties of the Throe, we were excited to use it, and we immediately tested it out. We found it to be everything we needed it to be, but just to be sure we tested it out again. We put our Throe through a battery of tests so extensive that you would think we were quality control professionals employed by the manufacturer. In more than five years of regular use, our Throe has proven itself a reliable, high-quality product.
To answer the first part of your question, yes, the Liberator Throe is completely leak proof. One side is fuzzy, plush, and warm, while the reverse side is satin. When we're having sex, we place the Throe beneath us with the plush side up, and the blanket catches any spills and soaks them up. We have never soaked it through to the other side, or in some other way overwhelmed the blanket. I once soaked a waterproof mattress pad to the extent that our mattress was damp, but never our Throe.
The Throe is not hot to lie on, though as I said, it's a warm blanket and it retains heat. Sometimes if it's really hot out, I might feel hot lying ensconced in it, but this is not the fault of the Throe itself. And it isn't sticky in any way, but obviously if you lie in it after getting it wet, it will feel moist. I guess if you were to lie on the satin side rather than the plush side, it might feel sticky. But we never do that.
There does seem to be a crinkly sound, but it's very faint and I can honestly say that until now I've never noticed it. It certainly isn't distracting during sex, and I'd go so far as to say that a squeaky mattress is far more noticeable and distracting. Then again, the sex we have tends to be vigorous and noisy. Your mileage may vary.
The Throe washes very thoroughly, and dries great! We've never had any issues with ejaculate or lube not coming out after a single wash. We don't do any wax play, but from the reviews we've read there seems to be no problem with that either. It does, however, take a little longer to dry than a standard blanket might. Because it's waterproof, it seems to retain moisture, and one drying cycle usually isn't enough. In our experience it also tends to roll into a ball while drying, and after the first cycle we usually have to untangle it and run it again.
Another thing we really like about the Throe is that it looks like a regular decorative blanket. It can be laid out atop our bed and guests will be none the wiser. Then again, most vanilla guests don't go into our bedroom, so if someone actually happens to see it on our bed, we might be playing with them anyway. Actually, I should point out that the Throe is never clean long enough to be laid decoratively over a piece of furniture. Once it's taken out of the dryer, it sits in the clean laundry basket until we use it, and then it goes right back into the wash. There's no rest for our Throe!
As a woman who ejaculates, and who takes great pride in doing so, nothing is more gratifying, and indeed more liberating, than not having to hold back. It's one of the most exciting things I can share with my partner. I am grateful to Liberator and to our Throe for allowing me to be free enough to fully enjoy my orgasm. -
This was one of the most difficult-to-answer Formspring questions we've yet been asked. We have many personal acquaintances with whom we would be okay having sex under the right circumstances. It was difficult narrowing our lists down to just three, though for the sake of adding value to her answer, Jill named three men and three women. Rather than assigning the following individuals fake names, or identifying them by initial, we have decided to identify them by a number and a brief description.
Jack's Answers
1. Female, age thirty-four. This is "M", our former third. I've known her for twenty years or so, and she's always been a good friend. And while I technically have had sex with her (oral counts!), I'd love to have vaginal intercourse with her. (Or anal - I'm not picky.) The fact that she's in a relationship and it's going well seems to indicate that I won't get my wish anytime soon. On the other hand, she told me soon after her relationship began that her boyfriend told her he was open to the idea of an MFM threesome. While I would be down for this, it hasn't come up again in the last several months.
2. Female, age thirty-six. Another friend I've known for around twenty years. This person is the wife of Jill's #3. How we've never had sex in all of our years of friendship is a mystery to me; I'll blame it in part on the fact that she was usually in a relationship when I was single, and vice versa. We came close one night, though my interest in sustaining the bad relationship I was in at the time - a relationship that ended not long after, much to my frustration - meant that we both parted company unsatisfied. Since then, we've had same-room sex together, we've webcammed, and we've had phone sex. I should've just fucked her that night.
3. Female, age thirty-one. The sister of one of my ex-girlfriends, and the wife of Jill's #2. I've been attracted to this person for a long time, even when I was dating her sister more than a decade ago. She's beautiful, fun, and fairly open about her sex life, though as Jill mentioned in this week's Wanton Wednesday, she made it at least until her late twenties without ever using sex toys of any kind. (Not that this makes her less attractive.) She is the sort of person with whom we can watch porn in a relaxed, though fairly sexually-charged, atmosphere, or trade erotic stories.
Jill's Answers
1. Male, age forty. Husband of my college roommate, who is my person #4. I've been attracted to him since we met in college. He's a nice guy, he's a lot of fun to have around, and he's sexy. When my roommate and I would talk about our relationships, she had much more exciting stories than I ever did. To hear her tell it, he was always pretty adventurous in bed, and while I've not yet had the pleasure, the four of us once had same-room sex in a hotel. Although the lights were off, it sure sounded great.
2. Male, age thirty. Husband of Jack's #3. I've known him almost as long as I've known Jack. He's a reliable friend, handsome, and very comfortable talking about sex. In fact, we've had many instant messenger conversations that wasted very little time in small talk before moving to more sexual topics. He's flirtatious, though not nearly as overt about it as Jack. He's also seen me masturbate, and by all accounts he enjoyed it.
3. Male, age forty-four. Husband of Jack's #2. A sometime commenter on this very blog, he has expressed attraction to me, and hinted that he wanted to watch us have sex, and possibly have a threesome with us. While he was separated from his wife a few years ago, he got to watch, but made no attempt or request to join in. It was actually kind of disappointing, though Jack and I are both certain that he was just trying hard to be respectful.
4. Female, age forty. My college roommate and the wife of my #1. Another former commenter, this person is in many ways the ideal of free-spirited sexuality that I aspire to. She is physically beautiful and open-minded, and her sexual adventurousness helped to bring me out of my shell when I was younger. Without her, I would never have masturbated with a piece of fresh produce.
5. Female, age forty. My best friend since high school, and someone I consider family as much as any of my siblings. We are very close, but despite the fact that we have seen each other naked, I am sure she's the person on my list least likely to be interested in sex with me. She is much more sexually conservative than any of the other five, the person least likely to discuss sexual matters (although we have on occasion), and although I hate to admit it, the person most likely to judge Jack and I for some of our sexual wants and needs. Still, I think she's sexy, and I'd do her in a heartbeat if she was interested.
6. Female, age forty. My oldest friend. We've known each other since age five. Like my #5, I consider her a sister, as our closeness transcends mere friendship. The best way that I can describe her is as the middle ground between #4's bohemian nonconformity and #5's conservatism. She is someone I've always been able to party with, or tell secrets to without fear of judgment. In the past, I've referred to this person as "P". You can read more about our friendship here. -
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Jack's Answer
For me, the biggest turn-on about a member of the opposite sex is a really nice ass. While the first thing I notice in a woman (as well as the thing I will spend most of my time looking at) is the face, the aspect of a woman that excites me the most is her ass. I know I've claimed to value intelligence, open-mindedness, and personality above all else, and I really do appreciate these things. But a shapely ass is definitely my biggest turn-on, at least physically. I'd like to state explicitly that I am not turned off by a woman with a less-shapely ass, nor would I find the prospect of doggy style sex with such a woman unpleasant in the least.
The thing that most turns me off in a member of the opposite sex is actually several internal factors, including negative attitude, ignorance, lack of personality, and bigotry or prejudice. When it comes to physical attraction there are countless variations that I find appealing. I can't think of anything in the physical realm that is a deal-breaker for me. However, a woman who brings to the table the aforementioned internal factors will be hard-pressed to hold my interest long enough for sex to occur. I wish I could say that I have never dated or slept with a woman who suffered from this particular affliction, but I most certainly have. However, I usually didn't respect myself for it afterwards.
As for what turns me on most in a member of my own sex, this is a difficult question to answer. I identify as straight, and thus I don't usually think of men as being able to turn me on. I spent some time pondering this question, really thinking critically, in the hopes of coming up with an honest and interesting answer. Speaking from a non-sexual viewpoint, I find men easiest to get along with if we share an appreciation for similar things, including the same types of entertainment, and geek culture in general. Ideally we should have things in common, and be able to talk about various issues over a couple pints. That is not to say that we must have the exact same views on the issues; I have friends who are politically and spiritually quite different from myself, and we get along well.
The biggest turn-off in a man is the exact same as it is in a woman, in particular willful ignorance. Moreso than when I was younger, I find it hard to be friends with someone I don't respect, and I can't respect someone who adopts the herd mentality and refuses to think for himself. Surrounding myself with ignorant friends might make me the Alpha of our group, but I don't value Alpha status enough to seek out the ignorant for the purposes of friendship.
Jill's Answer
The thing that turns me on the most in men is the face, especially eyes and smile. I am attracted to men who have sexy eyes and a confident smile. If they make eye contact with me and smile when we talk, they come off as genuine and honest. It makes me feel good to be in the presence of men like this. Bonus points if they have cute little dimples.
The biggest turn-off for me in a man is bad hygiene, especially bad breath and body odor. I don't care how cute or charming a guy is, if he stinks I will never find him attractive. (I also feel this way about women, but in women it's not the biggest turn-off for me.) The opposite is also true: A man who smells really good will probably turn me on because of it.
As with men, the biggest turn-on for me in a woman is also their faces. I love a woman with pretty eyes and a sexy smile. But if I have to come up with a unique answer, I will say breasts. It doesn't matter how big they are, or what size, shape, or firmness. I just like breasts. They are so much fun to look at and touch.
The thing that turns me off the most in women is cattiness. I'm not talking about bitchiness. When I think "bitchy" I think of women who are strong-willed, and who stand up for themselves and speak their minds. People usually call this kind of woman bitchy, but I respect them for their strength. I'm talking about women who are malicious and underhanded, and who are out to hurt others. I can't be friends with this kind of person, let alone be turned on by them. -
Favorite sexual position:
Jack's Answer
I know what you're thinking. You're expecting that my favorite position is some sort of sexual configuration achievable only by contortionists and professional circus acrobats. You're guessing that I prefer to have sex in an exotic position right out of the Kama Sutra, something along the lines of the Galloping Lotus or the Farting Hermit Crab. You guess, based on the amount of self-aggrandizement that I do here and on Twitter, that I would rather have sex in a manner hardly conducive to orgasm or even pleasure just for the sheer bragging rights. A position that allows penetration at the most precarious of angles, and requires that both Jill and I stand on, at most, one foot. I'm talking about the kind of position that prevents bloodflow to the extremities, or for that matter the brain.
Well, this will probably come as a shock, but I consider missionary to be my favorite position. Sure, some think of it as boring and unimaginative, and others take issue with the religious undertones of its name. But its etymology has been all but debunked, and I opine that missionary position - much like any sexual act - is what you make of it. Why do I like missionary so much? Well, the most obvious reason is that I enjoy the face-to-face intimacy. Yeah, I'm a girl. What of it? Additionally, I appreciate being able to kiss and touch Jill in this position. Her body is open and available to me. I can finger her clit, or suck her breasts. I can look into her eyes, exchange dirty talk with her, and behold her expression and feel her breath on my face as she climaxes. I love how deep I get, especially if I pull Jill's ass onto my knees and raise her feet onto my chest or shoulders.
Missionary may not be the flashiest sexual position out there. For some, it may carry an unwanted association of male dominance. For others, middle American Howard-and-Marion-Cunningham whitebread values. For still others, it's just not exciting enough. But I enjoy this position. And I don't know that I've necessarily enjoyed it quite as much when I didn't have the same emotional connection with my partner as I do with Jill. The missionary position makes the most of our natural symmetry, and allows us closeness in a way that doggy style or reverse cowgirl simply do not.
Jill's Answer
This was a difficult question for me to answer. While I knew right away which position I would name as my favorite, I really wanted to throw in a disclaimer and make clear that there really aren't any positions that I don't like. I enjoy all of the more familiar sexual positions, and am open to trying any not-so-familar ones. There are some which are difficult to achieve or sustain, or which are fun but make orgasm difficult. But I don't know if I've ever been able to blame bad sex on the position.
With that out of the way, my favorite position is doggy style. There are many reasons why I prefer doggy style over spooning, cowgirl, or even missionary. I find that Jack's cock penetrates me the deepest in this position, and the angle is usually just right to stimulate my G-spot. Sometimes Jack will reach around and finger my clit while his cock is hitting my G-spot. That sends me over the edge quickly, and I usually have more orgasms than I can count. And if he manages to hit my G-spot and finger my clit while simultaneously sucking on my neck, or tongue-kissing me? Not only are we going to have to change the sheets, but we might have to flip the mattress over too.
Part of what I enjoy about doggy style is that it's less personal than missionary or cowgirl. Of course I love the sweetness and the romance of looking into Jack's eyes when we have sex. But sometimes I just want him to grab my hips, pull my hair, and pound into me like a jackhammer.
Favorite item of clothing
Jack's Answer
While I would love to extoll the virtues of Jill's silk bathrobe, her thigh-high fishnet stockings, her fuck-me boots, or even the New England Patriots T-shirt she wears around the house or while working out, she has one thong that I love above all others. If I'm seeing her in it, it means we're likely about to have sex and I'm already in the mood, but in the event that I somehow wasn't, this sexy piece of lingerie would fix that.
Jill's Answer
As for Jack, he looks sexy in anything, from jeans and a T-shirt to running shorts and a tank top. Because he dresses casually around the house, I really take notice when he cleans up. Anytime he's wearing slacks and a dress shirt, especially if we're at a wedding or some other formal event, I spend the whole night imagining tearing off his clothes and jumping him. It really turns me on. -
Jack's Answer
How about if we give a sexual and a non-sexual highlight of our week? The non-sexual highlight of my week was definitely the dinner party we threw Thursday evening. We love socializing, and tonight was our first time entertaining company since the move. We cleaned the house, prepared a delicious meal, and had a great time catching up with friends we haven't seen in awhile. Our guests didn't depart until well after eleven PM, which is pretty late for a weeknight. Actually, considering that I regularly go to bed after two in the morning, it's really not that late, but considering that I still had a Flash Fiction Friday story to compose - as well as this post - it's pretty late. But it made for a very memorable evening. We would love to do this on a regular basis, although logistics including the schedules of all concerned make it a less-common occurrence than we'd like.
The sexual highlight of my week was probably when Jill walked in from work on Wednesday afternoon and announced that she needed my cock in her mouth. I know that she said so mainly in order to turn me on, but I'm also aware that when she gives me head she gets as much out of the experience as I do. We began in the living room but soon Jill suggested that we move into the shower so as to facilitate cleanup. I shampooed her hair while she sucked my cock. If you've read our blog for any length of time you might know that Jill gets aroused from having her hair washed, and has even climaxed during one particular visit to the hairdresser. Between my stimulation of her scalp, and her own stimulation of her clit, it didn't take her long to cum, and I followed suit shortly thereafter. The best part, however, may have been the fact that the baby napped until well after we'd finished and dried off.
Jill's Answer
My non-sexual highlight was definitely sleeping in until ten AM one day this week. I almost never get to sleep in. Most weekdays I get up early so I can work out or just get ready for work, and on the weekends I usually get up when the baby gets up, so that she and I can spend some time playing or reading books. Sometimes if we're staying with Jack's parents, they will get the baby out of bed and get her dressed, washed up, and ready for the day. But on this particular day Jack got up before the baby did, and when she awoke he kept her occupied so that she wouldn't wake me. What a great guy.
The sexual highlight of my week occurred on Wednesday night. Jack and I dropped the baby off with a babysitter and paid a visit to our storage facility. By now we know where the security cameras are located, and we parked in a blind spot. We made out, and then I stripped from the waist down and Jack fingered me until I came. We got in the back seat and we made out some more. I climbed on top and rode him, and he came inside me. It was really exciting, and although the facility was deserted we knew that could have changed at any minute. Needless to say you'll be able to read more about this on Sunday in our Sunday Scoreboard: Week 5 post. -
This is the sort of Formspring submission that we wish we could answer succinctly along the following lines:
Two hours; three and a half hours; yes, we are satisfied with how long it lasts.
Unfortunately, there's no way to succinctly answer this three-part question. Nothing about the sex that we have is standard; we could have sex on ten occasions, and have it last ten very different lengths of time. There are many reasons for this, and many factors that conspire to determine the length. Most of them involve our baby girl.
Is she asleep for the night? If so, we are likely to have a couple hours, although by the time she has been put to bed and we've accomplished all the non-sexual things that need accomplishing, it's usually quite late and we'll make do with anywhere from half an hour to an hour. When we prioritize correctly, i.e. we have sex first and then do all the non-sexual things, we sometimes manage a couple hours.
Is she just napping? If so, the length of the session depends on timing. If Jill happens to be home when the baby falls asleep, or more likely if she happens to get home from work soon after the baby falls asleep, we've usually got around two hours to enjoy each other. This often translates into several orgasms for Jill, and anywhere between one and three for Jack; plus a shower, post-coital cleanup, and perhaps even a conversation about each other's day, all before she wakes up.
However, timing the baby's naps to coincide with Jill's arrival from work isn't always possible. Sometimes she falls asleep much earlier, and by the time Jill gets home there's a half hour left on the clock. Or less; we have no way of knowing, obviously. We make an honorable attempt at sex, though it is sometimes curtailed by a little girl who wakes suddenly, disoriented and in need of milk or attention.
Is the baby with a babysitter? (Yes, we'll sometimes leave her with a babysitter solely so that we can fuck with reckless abandon, never once worrying that a careless scream of pleasure is going to wake her.) If so, we've probably got a couple hours. When this happens it's typically in the late afternoon or evening, so there's virtually no chance that we're going to be too tired for sex, or that it will get too late and we'll decide to skip it.
Are Jack's parents staying over, and keeping the baby occupied while we "nap"? If so, we can probably get away with an hour or so, though two hours is not unheard of under these circumstances. The problem is that when they're actually staying in our home, we'd much rather have sex quickly, just for the release of it. After all, it's not like we can be as loud as we want when they're around.
Is the baby awake and sitting on the couch or otherwise unrestrained? Or for that matter, awake and in her playpen? In either situation we'll probably settle for a quickie, as she tends to notice if we're not around, and if it's the former, there's nothing keeping her from getting down from the couch and walking into our room, or at least right up to the door. If it's the latter, after a relatively short period of time she is likely to very vocally express her displeasure at being cooped up. Since we don't live in a particularly large house, her voice carries, and one can only hear, "I'm ready to get out" so many times before it starts to fuck with one's arousal.
Another factor in determining how much time we have for sex is how horny we are. If it's a typical weekday, chances are that we've spent much of it talking on the phone, tweeting, emailing, or texting back and forth about sex. The anticipation at this point becomes tangible, and as soon as Jill walks in the door it needs to happen immediately. Sometimes this results in a relatively quick session, especially if the baby has been sleeping for awhile beforehand and there's a chance she'll wake soon.
In short, the amount of time we spend on sex depends on how much time we have. Sex can last anywhere from half an hour to a few hours depending on the above factors. There have been times when the baby has interrupted us, especially if she wakes from a nap while we're in the middle of it; but we can usually wait until she's down for the night and pick up where we left off. Luckily, when we're starting off, it's not very difficult to estimate how much time we might have.
As for how long intercourse itself lasts, we generally spend more time on foreplay than we do on intercourse. Sometimes intercourse makes up about 25% of a sex session while foreplay makes up 75%. We enjoy intercourse greatly, but to us it's just another item at the sexual buffet. A very tasty item, sure, but nonetheless just an item. Once again, a number of factors influence the exact length, but if we have sex for two hours, we might spend anywhere between forty minutes and an hour having intercourse.
Because of the baby's precarious sleep schedule, we don't always have orgasms, though we always try to. It's difficult, however, when you have a baby who tends to make her own schedule and come and go as she pleases. Therefore while we are usually satisfied at the end of a session, we aren't always. Actually, even when we both climax excessively and are for all intents and purposes completely satisfied physically and emotionally, we still wish it could have lasted longer. We enjoy sex so much that it's almost like no matter how much we have, it's never enough..
Neither of us have ever wished that it was shorter. -
I'm hesitant to fully embrace the "submissive" label. I know that I've identified myself as submissive in various places here on our blog, and I do enjoy ceding control in the bedroom. But to me the label seems to deny variation. And while I love cowgirl as much as anyone, and I am certainly not passive during sex, that doesn't make me dominant. I don't think of myself as a switch, either. I guess I'm just not really into labels. But for the purposes of answering this question, I will run with it.
I am extremely orgasmic. I don't usually have trouble climaxing, either by myself or with a partner. The only exception to this general rule is when I am worried about something and unable to temporarily compartmentalize whatever is on my mind. In that case, while I might have no trouble becoming aroused I might have a very difficult time reaching orgasm. In fact, I might not be able to have an orgasm at all. However, this is a rare occurrence, and usually requires something extremely difficult to process. (Think debilitating family crisis or illness, terrorist attack, or Rick Santorum presidential inauguration.)
Although I sometimes cum without much or any effort, this isn't always the case. Different methods of stimulation yield the desired result with varying speeds and levels of ease. Virtually every time that Jack gives me oral sex, I know I'm going to cum fairly quickly and easily. He knows exactly how to touch me, as well as the precise rhythm that I need. If he is fingering me while licking my pussy, or even sucking on my neck, I may cum even quicker and easier. If he is fisting me, I cum almost immediately. My orgasm will be much more intense, and I will have absolutely no control over it.
If we are having penis-vagina sex my orgasm is not guaranteed, though that is mainly because I don't usually have vaginal orgasms, and not every position I enjoy results in the kinds of stimulation that lead me to orgasm. Doggy style probably works the best because Jack's cock frequently manages to stimulate my G-spot. In the missionary position, Jack's cock usually stimulates my clit, though the contact is not always deliberate enough to cause orgasm. If it does, it will probably take awhile.
If the sex itself isn't providing sufficient stimulation for me to cum, Jack will happily stimulate my clit manually while fucking me, but I don't always need to have an orgasm this way. I will graciously accept orgasms from oral sex or fingering that are completely separate from penis-vagina sex. If I've already had one or more orgasms from masturbation, oral sex, fingering, fisting, etc. before Jack's cock is inside me, it will make it substantially easier for me to have additional orgasms when it is.
With regard to masturbation, it takes me longer to cum when using just my fingers. Using a toy can take awhile too, though it really depends on my state of mind. I find that I need to clear my mind of non-sexual thoughts . Sometimes I need to clear my mind of all thought whatsoever. Frequently porn, written erotica, or the fantasies in my head speed up the process. Certain settings on our handheld showerhead make me cum much more easily, though my clit is usually very sensitive afterwards, and I rarely if ever have multiple orgasms this way.
One of the easiest ways for me to cum that doesn't involve Jack's fist or his tongue is for me to masturbate while sucking his cock. The added satisfaction I get from knowing that I am pleasing him in this way while simultaneously pleasing myself is immense. In fact, sometimes when I am masturbating I will take his cock in my mouth just as I am about to cum. The orgasm that results is nearly overwhelming. I also love to ride my Rabbit while sucking Jack's cock. I call this the Rabbit trick, and when I indulge myself this way I usually squirt. I know that part of the appeal of this scenario is that it plays on my fantasy of being fucked by one man (or woman, I guess) while sucking another's cock. -
Jack's Answer
The fastest I've ever gone was probably a couple hours. I had a few one-night stands in my single days, and most of these were bar pickups. However, when I was in my early twenties I attended a house party held by a friend's cousin. I hit it off well with one of the host's co-workers and we spent awhile chatting. Then she gave me head in a spare bedroom.
Although head qualifies as sex in my book, it's probably not the same as sleeping with someone, which is what the question specifically asked. Therefore I'll talk about the first time I picked somebody up in a bar. I was twenty-one, newly-dumped by someone I really cared about, and feeling somewhat disillusioned. Also being newly-legal, I'd been regularly visiting bars with friends on the weekends. I was still living with my parents, and one Tuesday or Thursday night, after a night class, I decided to go to a bar as we had out-of-town family visiting and I didn't particularly want to see them or socialize with them.
The woman I hooked up with had to have been in her thirties. She seemed older, mature, even distinguished, but she was probably younger than I am currently. We sat beside each other at the bar, our legs casually brushing against one another without any conscious effort by either of us. We made small talk for awhile, about typical topics most of which are long forgotten, but I distinctly remember her telling me that she was trying to get custody of her son, or at least visitation rights. It wasn't until I bought her a drink that she told me her name.
After another round, she asked if I wanted to get out of there. I said yes, and she basically asked me my place or hers, although she didn't use those exact words. Hesitant to tell her that I still lived with my parents, I mumbled something half-hearted about having out of town company - which was, of course, 100% true - and asked if we could go to her place. We did. If I had to guess, I'd say that the sex began about an hour and a half after she gave me her name, which for the purposes of answering this question would be when I met her, technically.
She wasn't the best sex I had ever had at that point in my life; likely that distinction goes to a girl I dated casually during my first year of college. But my one-night stand wasn't a dead fish by any means; the sex was fun and exciting, and it certainly beat the hell out of going home and masturbating.
Jill's Answer
Three hours. When I was around twenty-seven, I went to a club with some friends. We arrived by eight, were drunk by nine, and shortly thereafter met some guys. We hung out and danced for awhile, and I had a good time getting to know one of the guys. Eventually my friends got ready to leave, but I wasn't ready and he offered to give me a ride home.
Once we were in his car, he asked where I wanted him to take me. I told him that it was still early, and why didn't he take me to his place. (I was enjoying his company, but I really didn't want him to know where I lived.) He was visiting from out of town, and staying with friends or relatives. When we got back to his place, we started making out on the couch, and before long we were tearing each other's clothes off and vigorously going at it right there in the living room. At one point I'm pretty sure someone came out to get a glass of water or something while we were having sex.
We fell asleep on the couch, under a blanket. I woke up sometime later and walked home. It turns out that his place was just a few blocks from where I was living at the time. -
Jack's Answer:
When I was twenty-two, I got a page (remember pagers?) from an ex who was back in town after moving away shortly after our breakup. She was the last person I wanted to hear from; fortunately there is nothing less confrontational than a pager. The other party can't have any direct contact with you unless you call them back. Of course, I was horny and, knowing that you can't spell "sex" without "ex", I gave her a call. We went out that night, and given that she was at best clingy and at worst emotionally unstable, I was extremely cautious. We made small talk during drinks and dinner: How've you been, how are your parents, have you seen such and such movie yet, etc. There was no discussion of resuming our relationship. We didn't even bring up sex.
After dinner, we returned to my place, where sex did in fact occur. Overall, the experience was enjoyable, providing both an exciting spark and a more comfortable familiarity. Although our dating relationship left much to be desired, physically I had always been in-tune with her. Now, some eighteen months or so after the dissolution of our relationship, there were no emotions or egos to get in the way of what I hoped at the time was simple no-strings-attached sex.
When we were finished, we dozed off and I remember waking to the very unsettling thought of her wanting to begin our relationship anew. It made sense; as stated above, she was a very clingy and emotionally insecure person. I, on the other hand, was over her, and the last thing I wanted was to actually date her again. With my climax not far behind me, I had a moment of clarity. I realized the risk I took, and in fact did briefly regret hooking up with her. At any rate, my fears were unwarranted. When I dropped her back off at her parents' house where she was staying, it became clear that she was no more interested in dating than I was.
Jill's Answer:
No, I don't believe that I've ever regretted any of the sex I've ever had, either instantly or days, months, or years later. Whenever I've had sex, I've always made the conscious decision to do so beforehand, and I generally knew what I was getting into, including any likely risks. Therefore I didn't regret it. It was simply what I wanted at the time.
When I was single I had a few one-night stands. I usually enjoyed the sex, I knew I only wanted the quick, meaningless release, and I got what I wanted from the situation. I always knew that it was only a one-night stand, I didn't feel bad that it wasn't more than that, and I never felt that I was used or somehow taken advantage of by the guy. I'm a strong believer in my own sexual agency. I like to take charge rather than letting things happen and going along for the ride. If I was ever in a situation where I knew it wasn't a good idea to have sex for whatever reason, I made the conscious decision not to.
The closest I've ever come to regretting having sex was with the guy who assfucked me without asking, warning me, or even lubing up. It was physically painful, and shocking because up until that point he was someone I enjoyed being with, and the sex was really good. It was unfortunate that he chose to do something so inconsiderate, but I don't even regret that, as it showed that he was clearly unworthy of me.
Although there have been relationships that I chose to stay in longer than I should have, I don't regret the sex any more than I regret the relationship itself. These situations demonstrated to me what I wanted and didn't want out of the next one. Therefore I feel that each experience I've had, whether sexual, romantic, or otherwise, led me to have the strong commitment that I share with Jack. -
First off, we would like to state emphatically that neither of us is interested in kids or animals, even on a fantasy level. Both are unable to consent to sex, and it is for this reason that, even if we didn't find the thought of fucking either a child or an animal absolutely repellent, we would still abstain from doing so.
Beyond these two activities, there are only a few things within the sexual realm that we have absolutely ruled out doing. Since none of these things are illegal or otherwise involve absence of consent, we don't judge anyone who enjoys these things in the slightest. They're just not for us.
None of these things are particularly mainstream, however. We actually can't think of much in the way of so-called mainstream sex that we would absolutely never try, or at the very least consider. Fisting? Of course. Group sex? Absolutely. Anal? Definitely. Exhibitionism/Voyeurism? Two of our absolute favorite things ever.
The first two things that immediately came to mind when we read the question are watersports and coprophilia. As parents, we would seem awfully hypocritical if we made a face everytime we changed a diaper - hey, we're only human - but then incorporated pee and poop into our bedroom activities.
Two other things that we're pretty sure we'll never try are breath play and electrostimulation. Regarding the former, we've both experienced near drownings, and are far too conscious of our airways. The thought of elective electrocution doesn't appeal either; in both cases, the risks of these activities far outweigh the perceived benefits; in other words, if either of these things were something we just had to try, we might take the risk. As they're not, we won't.
There are other things that we aren't against the idea of trying but for one reason or another we'll probably never around to. Both anal fisting and double penetration (anal and vaginal as opposed to vaginal and oral) seem unlikely due to the logistics and mechanics involved. Also, things like Jill-to-Jack pegging and Jack having sex with a guy will probably never happen, as they don't turn Jill on in the least. This is fortunate as Jack isn't particularly interested in making either one of these happen anyway. -
Jack's Answer:
I like to dress formally. I'm a stay-at-home Dad who is self-employed in a field that doesn't require business casual attire, much less a suit; therefore dressing up, while not exactly a rarity, isn't a daily or even weekly event. But I love the way I look in a suit, especially one with pinstripes. In fact, when I get dressed up for a wedding I am usually wracked with guilt over the possibility of showing up the groom and his groomsmen.
Jill's Answer:
I have a black negligee with a hint of pink that I absolutely love. It has a matching thong, and it appears in several of my favorite HNT pictures. It looks very flattering on me. It's sexy and feminine, and it makes me feel pretty and desirable. I like to wear it with either my sexy high heels, or my favorite pair of of fuck-me boots.
Pictures can be seen at http://frisky916cpl.blogspot.com/2012/01/formspring-friday-sexy-attire.html -
Jack's Answer
Yes, once. At age sixteen, I was in my first long-term relationship. Newly-relieved of my virginity, I was suddenly imbued with a newfound confidence. The summer after my junior year of high school, I found myself in Southern California for a few days, as one of my parents was attending a work-related seminar. Without much to do during the day, I met and befriended a girl whose parent was attending the same seminar. She was my own age or very close, her name lost to time. (This was nearly twenty years ago.)
She and I spent the first day hanging around the hotel, swimming in the pool and watching TV in her room. On the second day, we had sex. Unlike my girlfriend, who was sweet and very attractive but not quite as sexually imaginative as I would have liked, this girl was open-minded and experienced. She was the first person I ever did doggy style with. She's the first person who ever rode me in the reverse cowgirl position. And for that matter she was the first person who ever gave me oral sex. My girlfriend wasn't into any of these things.
Over the next three days, we had sex numerous times, in countless positions. We showered together. She asked to be spanked. She said that she enjoyed having her ass fingered. I didn't indulge her on that one, as she never requested it of me, just mentioned that she was into it, and being sixteen I was too stupid to take the hint. Beyond that, we talked about our lives, discussed our favorite movies, as well as the music we liked. We went out to lunch. It was nice. I never felt anything beyond physical attraction to her, but I acknowledged that she was someone I could have considered a friend, and if we lived closer - and for that matter if I wasn't in a relationship already - perhaps something deeper might have blossomed. But when I left L.A. after the seminar there was no exchange of phone numbers, no promises to keep in touch. I don't even think there was a good-bye.
I had enjoyed the tryst; it was sexually gratifying and it left me with the sort of ego boost a geeky, sometimes awkward sixteen-year-old often needs. But I knew that what I had done amounted to a flagrant violation of the trust that my girlfriend had in me. Rather than unburdening myself to her, I kept silent. I'd used condoms with the other girl, and the sex had been meaningless, so I reasoned that there was no point in upsetting her. I found that this justified my not telling her. In reality, however, I felt remendously guilty over my transgression.
My girlfriend attended a different high school than I did, and our relationship was such that we didn't see each other every day, or even talk on the phone every night. It was 1993; cell phones weren't the sort of thing that teenagers commonly possessed, and text messaging was about a decade away from being a familiar concept to most people. I'd just gotten my first pager, but my girlfriend didn't page me much as she didn't want her parents to know that I had it, ostensibly because because pagers were associated with drug dealers at the time.
In time, my guilt gave way to paranoia that she would somehow find out, but she never did. Ironically, I indignantly broke up with her around a year later, after she admitted to having cheated on me. This probably wasn't my finest hour.
Jill's Answer
I had been dating a guy for a few months. He was extremely self-centered, and the kind of person whose only compliments were backhanded. I didn't like him all that much, actually, but his friend was dating my friend, and his and my relationship sprung up out of convenience. I guess he was pretty good in bed.
We'd gone to his friend's house to hang out and drink. It was him and I, the friend whose place it was, and a few others. My boyfriend spent the whole night ignoring me while he socialized with everyone else. His friend, on the other hand, was showing me plenty of attention. We began to flirt back and forth, aided and abetted by lots of alcohol. Eventually we ran out, and my boyfriend offered to walk to a nearby liquor store to get some more. While he was gone, the flirtation continued.
My boyfriend returned from the liquor store with a couple bottles of Jack Daniels, which he knew I didn't like. (I still don't. I would much rather drink vodka than whisky.) I decided to have some anyway, if only to spite him. When my boyfriend pointed out that I don't drink Jack Daniels, I said, "Tonight I do," and spent the next couple hours drinking Jack and Coke.
The bathroom had two doors, one leading to the hallway and the other leading to the bedroom. I had gone to use the bathroom, and when I was finished my boyfriend's friend came in from his bedroom. He pretended that he didn't realize I was in there, but quickly shut the door behind him. He came over and kissed me, and I kissed him back. I got very wet, not only because the friend excited me, but because I felt like I was getting back at my asshole boyfriend. In seconds we were making out, and although I wanted things to go further right there in the bathroom, he eventually snuck back out through his bedroom. My boyfriend had no idea.
We flirted back and forth for the rest of the evening. As we were leaving his house, I gave him a hug good-bye. He used this opportunity to whisper that I should come back later, and as soon as I dropped my boyfriend off at home I returned. We had sex all night, and the friend was even better than my boyfriend was. Not only that, but he appreciated me in ways my boyfriend never did. He did things to my body that my boyfriend never could. When the sun came up, I was a sweaty, quivering mess on the floor of his bedroom, satisfied in every possible way. But so was he.
Eventually someone told my boyfriend that the other guy and I had been in the bathroom together the night of the party. By then, of course, he and I had hooked up a few times. My boyfriend said that he thought we should see other people. I told him that I already was. -
Jack's Answer:
I love all forms of sexual expression, foreplay included. Foreplay is exciting, although despite its name it doesn't always lead to penetrative sex for Jill and I. It doesn't even lead to orgasm, necessarily, although we never resist when it does. We consider foreplay more than simply a means to an end, and there have certainly been times when foreplay is less the means than it is the end itself. To me, foreplay is excitement and anticipation. It is a way to demonstrate our love, our passion, and our attraction to one another in a physical and frequently emotional fashion. Because of all of these factors - and in spite of the fact that I never need it in order to get in the mood for sex - foreplay is important to me.
I don't know that I have a favorite type of foreplay. I like them all, and in my opinion anything that fosters closeness between Jill and I and leads to greater arousal or intimacy is pretty wonderful. But if I had to pick one type I would probably go with oral sex over, say, caressing and making out. Although I do love caressing and making out, there are very few intimate acts that I find as enjoyable as I find giving and receiving oral sex.
As for how long foreplay typically lasts, there is no easy way to answer this. Every instance is potentially different. Generally speaking, I like it when Jill has a couple orgasms before I even come close to being inside her. As she is capable of multiples, she sometimes has several. Therefore ideally foreplay takes as long as it must in order to achieve this, unless for some reason we are in a hurry, in which case foreplay may not last nearly as long. But if we've got time, we spend as long or possibly even longer on foreplay as we will on having penetrative sex. And if I happen to have an orgasm from oral sex during foreplay - not a common occurrence, but it does happen - that's fine too, because I enjoy a very brief refractory period (or sometimes no refractory period at all) between orgasm and subsequent arousal.
Jill's Answer:
Foreplay is very important to me. I love the closeness and the playfulness that comes with it. During foreplay, we aren't always focused on a goal such as orgasm (although we sometimes are). As a result, we can focus on pleasure and fun. For me, foreplay can be as simple as a look, a touch, or a sexy whisper. I love the heat I feel when Jack's hand brushes my own. I love when he rubs my back, or caresses my scalp. Sometimes our foreplay is more raw and sexual. Jack's lips on my neck, breasts, and stomach make wonderful foreplay, as does his mouth on my thighs or my pussy. My favorite type of foreplay is oral sex.
Sometimes foreplay can take the form of a sexy email or text message. In this case, foreplay can last all day while I'm at work. Jack loves to send me tantalizing messages knowing that I have no means of release, and hours to go before I see him. In such an instance we know that once I get home from work, all bets are off and the baby had better be taking a nap. Sometimes I call Jack when I'm on the way home from work, and he talks dirty until I get there. Then when I arrive, I'm ready to strip and fuck as soon as I walk in the door. With any luck the baby is sound asleep, or if I'm really lucky Jack has gotten a babysitter and we have a couple hours to ourselves.
As parents, we aren't guaranteed uninterrupted periods of time for sex. Sometimes all we have time for is a quickie in the bedroom while our daughter watches half an hour of television elsewhere in the house. In this case, we might have to skip foreplay altogether. Some mornings, we wake up before the baby is up and we both want to get off, so we might only engage in foreplay, such as making out followed by oral sex. Most of the time we both manage to have an orgasm before the baby wakes up, or gets bored with whatever we've put in front of her to keep her occupied.
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