Size Envy

Most of the time I don’t even think about this, and it’s not something that triggers me every time we meet new people or go to our club… but sometimes it does come up for me.

I remember at 13, thinking This is it? This is all I get up here?

I like my tits a lot, but sometimes I wish they were bigger. So much is made of boob size in our media, and while I believe the vast majority of people probably just like tits, because, well, they’re tits, I get hung up on the fact that someone might not like mine because they’re small. (I used to have more of a body image issue with my tits, but Rational Emotive Therapy, which I wrote a post on a while back, really did help me rework some of my internal messages about my body and tits. It was extremely helpful.)

This is not just a female-bodied issues either. Messages about cock size are another force to be reckoned with. The research about partner and self preference about cock size is fascinating to me. Because the majority of nerve endings are in the lower third of the vagina, studies have shown that most female partners report pleasure with most cocks. “Most” people, not “average.” Almost all. They come in all shapes and sizes, and yet they pretty much all feel good. I recognize this is easier for me to say since I don’t have a cock, and I don’t have to deal with all of the external messages and internalized tapes telling me that my cock looks wrong for whatever reason.

Instead I have to deal with those messages about tits. Can I apply my same logic? All tits are fun to play with and are sexy. I have never had a partner tell me mine aren’t because of their size. And yet I see movies and TV shows and advertisements where characters are liked based on their boob size or are valued for boob size or express that having bigger boobs equals a more satisfied partner, a better sex life, or being liked more by others. “Bigger is better” is still the prevalent message, even if the people in my life contradict these messages.

Another thing that gets me in a weird way is that I get turned on playing with someone who has tits larger than mine, and I get turned on when I see J having sex with someone with larger tits. But I simultaneously get super frustrated because I want to feel what it feels like to have larger tits. It’s this weird frustrated turn-on. *sigh* Just another way for me to grow and accept myself, my turn-ons, and embrace the ways in which we are all different.

The L Word: What is Cheating?

Here is my next media recommendation: 
Season 5 of The L Word, Episode 10 “Lifecycle.”
Here is a link to watch the episode:

The characters are sitting around a campfire, playing “I’ve never,” and they all discover they have all cheated on a girlfriend. Interestingly, they all have different ideas of what “cheating” is. (Here’s my plug for everyone discussing with their partner(s) what they think of cheating so that they are sure to know what their boundaries are.)

Start at minute 42:15 and watch for about three minutes.

We were both impressed with the fact that “monogamy” and “open relationship” made it into the conversation. Not only do I love this show for its hot eroticism of lady sex, but it does a pretty solid job of exposing different relationship and LGBTQ issues.

Weeds: Masturbation Lesson

We just started watching “Weeds,” and the show is as entertaining as 30 Rock and The Office for us (nothing compares to Seinfeld, of course!). 

The following clip exemplifies why I love this show so much. The uncle, Andy, in the show gives his nephew, Shane, a lesson on masturbation. His lines and delivery are great, and I love all of his different names for come. While there is some less-than-ideal information (such as using honey as lube- I don’t really think that’s a great idea- sugar=yeast, right??), the last bit about how you can’t masturbate too much because it relieves stress and boosts immune function is awesome 😀

I wish more sex-positive, and accurate, information could work its way into mainstream media. I just have to appreciate it when I see it.

Mmm Quite the Weekend

We met some new sexy friends, and they rocked our world!! Love that! Meeting other attractive, intelligent (emotionally, socially, sexually, cognitively), thoughtful, and yummy people undoes J and I. It is so awesome. We hadn’t met a couple that we clicked with and felt chemistry with in so long. It was refreshing and amazing. Yummy pretty much describes it. Yuummmmm 😀 It also amps up our sex… which is so much fun! Cock sheaths + my Hitachi = heaven.

We went to the big Halloween party at our swingers club, and we went as a politician (Eliot Spitzer) and his call girl… haha! When I went to buy a dress, the women at the lingerie store said “Well, you definitely need something with leopard print!” Is that a stereotype of sex workers? Leopard print?? We completed the look with J wearing his sexy smokin’ suit and an American flag lapel pin, and me with cash sticking out of my barely-there dress (when I brought it home, J was like “Oh! That’s you dress?? I thought you were showing me a shirt!” hahaha). Anyways, as our friend who works there described it, it was definitely a “show night”: so many people who were there were “once a year” swingers, or people who went so they could tell their vanilla friends that they had gone to a swingers club. There were definitely orgies going on, which is not that common for a regular weekend night. The number of people in there was overwhelming for both of us, and so although we may have otherwise played there, we stuck to socializing, meeting new people, and dancing. It was really great 😀

And even though I bought new shoes for the night, and my feet were killing me, J convinced me to dance in the cage and take off my dress. And I absolutely loved it. Even though I have been dancing, the experiences of dancing as work and dancing in our club are two completely different things for me. I dated a girl for a bit a while ago who used to dance, and she was astounded that people just got naked at our club. I remember her saying “I’m used to people paying me to take off my clothes. I am not going to take mine off for nothing!” It was so interesting, too, because last night a girl got in the cage and she clearly had stripper moves. And she didn’t take any clothes off. What is it about stripping that makes some dancers value their nakedness so much? Well it’s obvious, I guess. If your naked body is now a commodity, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense that you would show it off for free. And yet, I have not felt that for myself. I still totally get off dancing at our club. It feels so much more like “my space,” and because I clearly recognize it as not work, but as going out and having fun, and because it was a favorite activity of mine before I started dancing, there would be no reason why I wouldn’t still enjoy it.

Today was the first day that I felt some hesitation about going to work. I think is has more to do with the fact that I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep this weekend than anything to do with dancing, but I want to make sure to pay attention to those feelings. I ended up having a pretty fun shift, and am looking forward to working tomorrow 🙂 

Candy Girl: Favorite Passage Rings True

“So when–why–did my little red Corvette veer onto the freeway of indecency? I think I’ve finally got is sussed. Most girls get into stripping because they’ve discovered a fast crowd, are mired in financial woe or have lived with dysfunction for so long that they’re naturally drawn to the fucked-up family dynamic in strip clubs. For me, it was the polar opposite. I had spent my entire life choking on normalcy, decency and Jif sandwiches with the crusts amputated. For me, stripping was an unusual kind of escape. I had nothing to escape from but privilege, but I claimed asylum anyway. At twenty-four, it was my last chance to reject something and become nothing. I wanted to terrify myself. Mission accomplished.”
~Diablo Cody, Candy Girl, pg 210.
This was her story; not mine. So obviously that passage doesn’t fit me one hundred percent. But it hits close to home for me; I feel a lot of truth in that passage with my own story. Claustrophobic and smothering normalcy along with reclaiming my body and sexuality and disengaging from my mom emotionally during counseling and exploring my exhibitionist side and learning about an under-represented and un-heard population and getting to exercise and getting off while working… that’s my story. So far. 🙂 The whole terrifying myself part though? I think that part is relevant. I am definitely not adequately terrified yet. I have hardly quenched my thirst.

This book was spectacular. And clearly a fast read since I read it one day. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an insightful, funny, pained, and heroic perspective on the experience of this unlikely stripper. 

Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper

We had family in town for a bit this weekend, and so naturally we headed to the big bookstore with the millions of books… because damn it, it’s cool. And also, I wanted to find Gloria Steinem’s book with the essay “I Was a Playboy Bunny.” (Which, by the way, I did find, and I can’t wait to read it. I’m sure there will be a post about that soon!)

Lo and behold, on the same aisle as “Feminism” and “Feminist Studies” there was also “The Sex Industry.” Gah, so many good books!! I couldn’t help myself. I also bought Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper by Diablo Cody, and Strip City by Lily Burana. I started the first this morning, and oh em gee is Cody hilarious. I am only twenty pages in and I already recommend it. It’s the book I wanted to write, if I was going to write one about stripping. She is fantastic and entertaining. I’ll write a full review once I am done, but basically it’s about her experiences at 24 stripping in Minnesota. The second book is about an ex-stripper who decides to make a year-long goodbye tour of the US, visiting clubs all across the country as a means of saying goodbye to dancing. I’ll blog about that one, too 🙂

I’m also trying to finish up Not Under My Roof by Amy Schalet, which I was trying to get J to blog about since he finished it like four months ago. Sociologist Schalet compared Dutch and American culture with regards to who parents treat the topic of sex with their teenagers. Spoiler alert: we are very different from the Dutch. It’s fascinating, and resonates so much with my experiences growing up (and J’s, too). And makes me want to move to the Netherlands, because they clearly have less hang-ups about sexuality.

No Dating For Now… But Can We Fuck?

The emotional aspect of dating is something I have not been up for. Going through a messy break-up a couple of months ago coupled with my weekly intense counseling sessions means that I don’t have much emotional capacity for another romantic relationship. It has been very rewarding for me to intentionally take a step out of the dating scene and focus on my emotional needs in a way that I haven’t… maybe ever. The sexual and physical aspects of swinging and more casual encounters… those are things that I am up for.

The reaching out, the emails, the time and energy it takes to get to know someone else on my own… it all sounds intense (and kind of exhausting, to be honest). I just don’t have the interest in doing all of that. When I am interested, though, the time and energy that dating takes are hardly factors I consider. The energy it takes to meet couples feels different for me, because they are activities and processes that I do with J. It feels like we help each other out, in terms of communicating with people, remembering details about other people’s lives, and feeling out new situations. Meeting couples does take a lot of the same intentionality, I realize: I have to write emails, and meet people in person. But like I said, it feels differently for me because it’s a shared activity for J and I. It’s almost like our energy feeds off of each other and my energy grows for meeting people together (and doing people together, ha!). I don’t have enough motivation and interest on my own in building a separate romantic relationship.

I have a few crushes in my life right now. And the feelings I experience from them are really nice. I love that warm feeling in my stomach when I see that person, and the excitement that results.

And part of me wishes we could just… you know, get it on. But for some people, I think it just seems to rushed and too casual. (I know I definitely feel that way at times. Sometimes I really do want that time to build more of an emotional connection and relationship, and often I need that as well. But not in my current space.) Casual sex with someone I am really attracted to sounds so hot. If it was that easy… I think I would enjoy casual sex more often than I do.

Managing Triggers Update

At my crisis line training tonight, we discussed trauma and the trauma response. Part of managing trauma is managing triggers from trauma. I am not saying that surviving sexual abuse/domestic violence is the same experience I have from feeling abandoned. Clearly, they are vastly different. However, I found the information useful in understanding my own experience and ways of managing triggers.

Consider this:

Your brain stem is formed first in the womb. It controls basic bodily functions (heart beat, breathing, etc.). Your limbic system is formed next. It controls your sensory processing, processing short-term memories and moving them into long-term memory storage, decides if you are in danger, and tells you how you feel. Your neocortex is formed afterwards, which is your “thinking” brain- it controls higher level thinking and reasoning.

You limbic brain “remembers what it was seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, when it decided you were in danger. These sensory memories can get ‘stuck’ in this part of the brain and become triggers or cause nightmares.”

In addition: “Trauma memories can also get ‘stuck’ in short-term memory storage. Instead of being processed and filed under ‘past things that happened to me,’ I may continue to experience a trauma memory as though it just happened (like a short-term memory) every time it comes into my mind. This may be the case even many years later. Because [the] limbic brain is non-verbal, just talking about it is not enough for re-processing.”

Whoa! This just makes so much sense to me with how I am still having flashbacks and intense emotional reactions to just thinking about the messy and traumatic break-up from this summer. I feel encouraged to try to process my feelings in some other ways besides journaling and talking (like drawing or sculpting) to see if those non-verbal outlets might help relieve my triggers and reactions.

Managing Triggers

How do I manage being triggered by something? How do I resolve those feelings? Will I ever not be triggered by that particular thing? Will I always just have to manage my discomfort? 

Being triggered emotionally goes something like this for me (granted the below is based on my worst triggers, and my most negative experiences feeling crummy; I don’t always feel and go through all of this):
-I feel triggered, which can take the form of feeling excluded, threatened, disrespected, lied to, or insecure about myself. I emotionally feel terrible. I can have deep feelings of abandonment.
-I feel cascading waves through my body that start in my chest and move down into my stomach and entire GI track. I get a stomach ache almost immediately. My heart rate goes up, and I have to remind myself to breathe because I notice my chest is hardly moving.
-I have racing thoughts about the situation, and the underlying issue on my end. My thoughts usually will just run in circles until I can’t take it anymore.
-I then have to do something to relieve my emotional, physical, and cognitive discomfort. That can take the form of blogging, journaling, calling a friend who I can talk to freely about the situation, and talking with J about what is going on. It also, more often that not (and perhaps more often than I would like), results in me crying a lot.
-I need to have outside perspective from friends or my counselors. I need to hear my feelings validated, and I also need to hear some gentle reality checks.
-I also often need reassurance from J: I need feedback from him to relieve some of my irrational fears or insecurities.

It’s all so much work sometimes to go through this process. And the intention of getting better at it means a lot of things for me. It means creating some necessary emotional independence for myself, and honoring my commitment to our relationship and doing the best I can to be thoughtful, communicative, and honest. Sometimes it just feels yucky, though. Later I am grateful to have had the opportunity to work through something, and I know that it is worth it for both me and for J.

Sometimes Fantasies are Just Fantasies…

…and sometimes dreams really do come true.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Sometimes dreams really do come true.

Is reality ever as good as the fantasy? Should we always try to make a fantasy a reality? Or should we accept a fantasy as such and keep it reserved for whispers and aching insides?

I have accepted that sometimes this is the case. For example, I still have sex dreams about my high school crush. We never talked. We weren’t friends. And yet I have this image built up in my mind from high school: my fantasy of being with him. And it is still with me. But would I ever try to actually realize this fantasy? No. It stays with me, in my head, as part of my personal sex life. Similarly, I have little mini crushes on a few different people in my life right now, but for reasons I am saving for another post, I don’t have the intent of moving those crushes beyond the crush stage. The feelings that crushes create, and the fantasies that result from them, are delicious. And sometimes it is more than enough to simply enjoy those fantasies. (The idea of a fantasy is so fascinating to me, too, because my fantasies are very much just images and feelings. For J, I think they are much more detailed and specific. If I am fantasizing about a particular person or act, I am usually just fantasizing about how I feel. I think J is fantasizing about details and an actual sequence of events.)

But other times… other times, we make it happen. Like, finally

If you are not picking up on this yet, I am actually referring to our gang bang fantasy. It happened, folks, and now we’re both just hooked.

First of all, let me discuss the use of the terms “gang bang” versus the term we created, “goddess worship.” They are two qualitatively different fantasies. In the first, I give up control, I am submissive, I am completely dominated in a hyper-masculine environment. In the second, I am completely catered to and I feel worshiped through the comments and actions of the people involved. I have both fantasies. I still do not like the term “gang bang.” I need another phrase to get across the idea of giving up control and letting my body be used by a bunch of hungry men. “Gang bang” does not accurately describe my fantasy because, to me, “gang bang” connotes violence and coercion, and neither of those things are part of my fantasy. I guess I will just have to keep thinking on it.

So. It was amazing. Four friends plus J meant I had my hands (and other parts) full for a good two hours. I was so mentally turned on that there was a wet spot on the bed bigger than I have ever made before (I wish I could have filmed that for our squirting-loving friends!!). The vulnerability I felt and the resulting excitement was incredible. We started off with me going down on everyone. Then J went down on me and fingered me. And then J turned them loose. Within ten seconds I had a cock in my pussy, a cock in my mouth, and another one in my hand. They rotated through, changing my position from on my back to doggy style to me riding them. Spit roast (me in doggy style while going down on someone) is one of my favorite positions, and I got that a lot. We used the bed restraints and I was blind folded part of the time. Everyone came… many times. And after they all left, J and I reconnected emotionally and physically, and that was amazing. And we have continued to reconnect all day today.

There is more to my “gang bang” fantasy that we did not get to experience. Namely, I want to be a cum slut. And because I am Ms. Public Health, that is a no-go. It makes me so hot to think about four or five or ten loads in my pussy. Jesus. But that just ain’t gonna happen. And that is part of the fantasy that will stay as part of our whispers and aches during our play and lovin’ time.

And now I am in the midst of planning something a similar encounter to celebrate J’s birthday… Only this time it will be filmed, as a surprise for J (as in, he is not as involved with the planning and he won’t be there for it). I am so excited to create another experience that we can watch again, and again, and again.