Wednesday, April 27, 2016

On Masturbation. And My Two, Possibly Three, Favorite Sex Toys.

Photo by Jimmy Detroit
"Your kisses are as wicked as an F-16/and you fuck like a volcano and you're everything to me," Liz Phair, Supernova.

Do you know the grand fuckery of which she speaks? The insane lust, the deep primal wanting, "Lips sweet and slippery/Like a cherub's bare wet ass." God, I do.

The thing is, most of the time I'm not there. And, given what you've been telling me lately, I think the same might be true for a lot of you.

If your sex life is such that masturbation is what's happening, and you'd like to fuck around (quite literally) with some new technology, I have a couple toy suggestions for you and that lonely bed of yours.

Why should you listen to me? Well, I'll tell you, smarty-pants.

--Between writing for Cosmo, AlterNet and this blog, I have had to put a fuck of a lot of whirring, sucking, vibrating things between my legs. Because that is MY JOB. Yes. God, or The Force or whatever, is good.

--Something about Malcolm Gladwell's theory of putting in 10,000 hours at anything to become an expert. 

Yes, my friends, I have been to the mountain top, sex toy-wise, and I've come back down, limping a little but full of Wisdom, to tell you my top two suggestions.

--If you are only buying one toy:

Oh darlin', I will rock your world.
The LELO Ora 2 The World's Most Sophisticated Oral Sex Simulator is expensive as hell but, damn, the thing is an excellent lay. It ministers to you via various vibration patterns and a little ball that makes lazy little circles or half-circles exactly where you want it to. You can just cycle though the patterns, and it feels like the best lover you ever had. I'm totally serious. It even seems to know exactly how long to pause before you completely lose it.

On the other hand, I looked at the Amazon reviews and some other people said it was weak, or unsuitable or whatever, so remember that everyone's body is different and just because I tell you to put something between your legs doesn't mean you'll like it as much as I did. (You should, however, DEFINITELY listen to my advice to never put that Sqweel whirlygig thing anywhere near your cooter. Trust me on this.
Man, that smarts.
(Further disclaimer: if you buy the Ora through this link, Amazon will give me like 2% or something. So if you buy like 28 million of them, I should be pretty good. Trickle down economics in action!)

--If you want to spring for 2 toys:
Allow me

I'd recommend the Womanizer, used in tandem with a g-spot vibrator (any will do, I use a Butterfly Bliss because I got it for free.) Between the gentle sort of suction motion of the Womanizer (maybe give it a different name in your head) and the low throbs of g-spot vibe on the inside, you will be a wreck, in the finest of ways.

(And yes, if you use the link to buy Das Womanizer and/or the Bliss, Good Vibrations will send me a 20% kickback, so you'd only need to buy about 3 million of them.)

Anyway, I'm not telling you this so you buy some merch, I'm saying it to sort of mark a shift in my head. Sex can be beautiful and scary and transcendent and super hot (or not.) And yes, of course it's preferable to have someone going mad for the way your boobs look when you unhook your bra, and being with someone brave enough dive into that Unknown with you, and just sort of bearing witness to whatever goes down. (Perhaps an agreeable Quaker, experienced in bearing witness, would be good here....though perhaps I'm not fully understanding the concept.)

However, even if it's just you, sans pervy Quaker, that sexual force is still there. And it seems hugely important to activate that power, whether by hand, sexy sucking toy thing or any non-Sqweel partner.

Henceforth, when loving the one I'm with is, I am hereby ditching my previous habit of taking note of all the ways I am not sharing that experience (i.e. "Holy hell, they'd love to see this, hear this, feel this...") and getting all tragic about it. (For the record: Sobbing and coming at the same time is indeed dramatic and occasionally hot, but not that great as a Everyday Lifestyle Choice.)

Instead I'm going to revel in what does go down. It's still good. Sometimes damn good. And like Pamela Madsen, but less naked, I will transfer that energy out into the damn world.

Huzzah, motherfuckers.


P.S. If you'd like to order a print of the Jimmy Detroit photo above, email him at or contact him via  Facebook. Friend of the Blog, Great Guy! Plus real Art, highly affordable!

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Why We Fuck

I was sprawled across my bed, utterly wrecked, one morning many years ago. I'd just had amazing amazing phone sex with someone who, to this day, remains the most attachment-avoidant person I've ever met.

"Holy fuck," I mumbled, made dreamy by ravishment. "Why was that so...good? We were on the phone."

"People need connection," he said simply. To my surprise, even he had known this, deep in some barely accessible part of his poor love-avoidant heart. And it had been a connection, an intense sexual communion that felt like something real had happened, even though no body parts had been touched or even seen.

This private connection between lovers--This is why we fuck each other, even though there are plenty of promiscuous toys, pillows, and shower spouts that can do the job quite well. And, yes, it has to be fucking (of some sort) because other human interactions--a nice chat in the bank line, for example--just won't do it.

Bearing witness to someone surrendering to their instincts--just being with them in the moment they lose themselves--is fucking powerful. And to find someone you trust enough to fall into that void with them, well, it's a rare and beautiful gift.

On a less sublime level, I think it's also about being present in the Now and existing in a state of Flow, where you are wholly consumed with what you are doing. These are purportedly optimal (and often needlessly Capitalized) states for achieving happiness, inner peace and well-being. (See also: Ekhart Tolle's  The Power of Now and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's  Flow). The orgasm is, like, a bonus to what's really going on.

Caitlin Moran describes this kind of focused-attention-on-another in her book How to Build a Girl about a teenage Brit who transforms herself into a badass music journalist/sexual adventurer:

"Here's the amazing thing about sex:  you get a whole person to yourself, for the first time since you were a baby.  Someone who is looking at you--just you--and thinking about you, and wanting you...You are in a room with a closed door, and no one else can come through it....It seemed to me that this was the real reason people wanted to fuck so much. To get here. To get to this tiny, quiet place where there was nothing else to do but be with each other. Just to be two humans who had--for a short while--stopped wanting."

That idea fits nicely with what I discovered when I looked on PornHub the other day for the Top Rated Video of All Time. It wasn't "Bitch takes cum in her hair" or whatever I was expecting, but a sweet little clip of a sleepy, tousled-haired woman waking her lover up and giving him a blow job. 

This top-rated video--OF ALL TIME!--showed two people portrayed as affectionate, familiar lovers happy to be waking up together in such a nice way. They weren't over-the-top porn excited, but just enjoying the everyday-yet-so-amazing swollen pleasures of taking someone you like in your mouth and/or being taken thus. In the world of porn, this was maybe about the squarest, most vanilla thing ever. And yet it was the most loved...of all time! (For that one day, at least. Today, alas, I can't re-find it. It has been replaced by "Hot blond maid having anal." Top-ratedness is apparently fleeting. )

The point of all this being: sexual connection, in whatever form it takes, is something we all seek, including the millions of surreptitiously wanking users of Porn Hub on that particular day. Even my old friend, dear attachment-avoidant boy, needed this intimacy, albeit from the distance that felt safe to him.

We all need to get this place, however we can--where you get to be two humans who have--for a short while--stopped wanting.

Go find your place.



Sunday, April 10, 2016

Advice To Greg Abner, My Would-Be Email Lover

Dear "Greg Abner,"

Congratulations! You're almost there in perfecting your unsoliticed-email-leads-to-romance-leads-to-some-poor-chick-sending-you-a-few-thousand-dollars-for-your-airfare/life-saving operation/ outstanding business opportunity! Just a few more tweaks and you're ready to go!

Here's my take on it:

Personalize: When women receive unsolicited email from a total stranger, they want to feel like the stranger sees that "special something" about them. For example, in your random Facebook email to me, you write:
What a great smile.......I bet your smile is capable of sweeping any man off his feet....
Okay, just for reference, here is the photo to which you refer:

In it, I am trying to look thoughtful and artsy. Although, as my friend Audrey unkindly and unfortunately more accurately put it, "You look like you just stumbled into an alley and are looking for your shoes." Another of my delightful friends, Paul, said "You look hot and mentally imbalanced." We needn't quibble over whether I look hot or crazy, or whether or not I eventually found my shoes in that alley (answer: I didn't find "my" shoes, exactly but found "some" shoes that "sort of fit.") The point is that we all agree that I am not smiling. Again, KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE. Study your lucky lady's photo and write something personal. Like, "You look mentally imbalanced." Or perhaps, "I happen to sell shoes."

Okay, let's move on. Greg, in your message, you continue:
Your terrific hair do is just out of this world.Please make my day by writing back.
Really? You think so? I love it too! It's all freaky and wild and...wait a minute...did you just call it a "hair do"? I'm sorry, Greg, but that's the kind of slip-up that's going to alert a potential victim special lady that you're either not from around here or that you're a pervy old lady from 1947.

Your Facebook profile could use a little work as well. "Your" photo is fine. Let's have another look at that stock photo you carefully selected:

I kind of wish someone in a lower age demographic was writing to me, but, that's okay, I think the older gentleman look works. It's more believable than some shirtless, rippled youngster trying to chat me up. I'm not stupid. I've seen Catfish, you know. (If you haven't, do check it out. It's a nice little indie film.)

I have no problem with your claim that you are British (a nice touch!) and that you now live in Denver, Colorado. However, your "About Greg" section could use a few little touch-ups. Don't worry, it will just take a sec. You write:
Easy going , starigth forward and laid back retrospective kind of guy, my friends say i'm nice to a fault but i can't wait to know what you think about that..... i know i have a kind heart that a lotof people tend to take advantage of most of the time.i'm looking to meet some old school friends/mates and some interesting new friends .
Maybe you could let one of your fellow Brits "have a look," as they say in your former stomping grounds, at your punctuation and grammar. "Straight" not "starigth,""lotof" is not a word, and whatnot. Also strike "I can't wait to know what you think about that" from your profile entirely. When you use it here, it sounds like you're trying to pick anyone and everyone up. That will not do.  Remember, make the lady feel special. The time to bring out that gem is once you are corresponding with your beautiful lady with the out-of-this-world hair-do, and she's starting to weaken to your considerable charms.

And lastly, in the photo that you labeled "me and my daughter," you've neglected to realize that your daughter is not actually in the picture. Such inattentive parenting could be seen as a "turn off" to a prospective mate.

But don't worry, you've almost got it! Just a few more tweaks and you will be darn near irresistible. Soon that money will be rolling in! And, if you'd like, I have a few Special Secret Tips for just for you, because I think we've made a connection today. I'm sure you feel it, too. I just need a little plane fare to come visit you so I can start giving you your personalized Special Secret Tips right away!

Thursday, March 24, 2016

The Results of the Big-Ass Giveaway!

Early prototype of the blow job machine
I'm back from the United States Post Office where I was mailing unspeakably smutty packages to readers around the globe. If you did not get an email from me saying you won something in The Big-Ass Giveaway, you indeed didn't win. Sorry, I totally wish you did.

I'm especially sorry to the many many readers who wanted that blow job machine--some of you are my favorite readers of all times! In a fair world, your dick and/or the dick of someone you love would be getting sucked off by an oddly loud and large-sized machine at this very minute. This very minute!

But fear not, I still have more stuff that I'll give away at some point, like a pair of jeweled pasties I can't see ever using ("I'll save these in case there's an earthquake and all my regular clothes are destroyed.")

I also have lots of stuff--sadly, used only one (also: used only once sadly)--which I guess I'm gonna have to send to one of those sex toy recycling places because I don't want to have super embarrassing garbage. First to go is going to be an abusive Sqweel "oral sex massager" I tested which I'm quite fucking sure I'll never press between my legs ever again. The heinous toy was like a windmill of angry chihuahua tongues, striking a delicate body part with a surprising amount of loud whirring fury. I completely agree with Michelle's succinct Amazon review "It horrible."

We are never ever ever getting back together.
Anyway, the best part of the giveaway was hearing from so many readers and remembering how smart and cool you all are. A delightful new reader Steve (delightful due to both his penchant for flattery and using that rusty old donation button there at the right) noted your greatness straightaway writing, "This is perhaps the best blog I have ever followed, as not only do we get a warm, thoughtful, intelligent, (insert other positive adjectives here) exposition of a very smart lady's thoughts, but she has created a space that has attracted a number of amazingly smart, generous, witty followers." Steve also awarded himself an IBWMW ministerial position, Minister of Music (it was part of a larger metaphor), which is fine with me. At IBWMW, as in many places, you can totally buy yourself a title.

Also I have to admit that the contest wasn't truly fair. I vetoed anyone who seemed creepy. (If you did win, I suppose you passed that particular test. For now. Although if you didn't win, it does not necessarily follow that you were deemed creepy. I could make a Venn diagram for you on the matter, but lack the graphic design savvy of even a MacPaint-using citizen of 1994). I also unfairly let Trisha, a bad-ass blogger, filmmaker and FOB, win the vintage Hustler due to this entry:

I want the vintage Hustler sooooooo bad. I will both do good orgasm-equality, feminist work with it by SSL reviewing it from cover to cover in a very special IBWMW-won Vintage Hustler Review Series for my blog, and I will also masturbate to it, because that's the kind of person I am. 

And as long as I'm confessing, I also would probably have given the cute guy who wrote to me on Facebook pretty much whatever he wanted, but he neglected to ask.  

And several of you inquired about my whereabouts lately, a few offering theories. My favorite was that I was off seeing someone, too overcome with ravishment via gorgeous cock, I suppose, to crawl over to the computer and type a few words. The truth is that I've been busy spending whatever writing brain I have on projects that pay better than you, like:

--writing sex position tips for Cosmo
--an oral sex story for Cosmopolitan magazine that's not out yet (super fun, but with the extreme space/word count limits of old-school print, it was kind of like writing some sort of weird BJ-themed haiku.)
--an interview with Jami Rodman, former elite escort and Las Vegas Madam for AlterNet
--stuff for a family magazine, who I won't link to so as not to besmirch them with my sexed-up traffic.

I was also enjoying some abject depression, possibly due to writing things that don't have to do with you and/or the notable absence of work-ruining gorgeous cock ravishment.


PS. Giveaway feel free to report back your findings re: your prize. Even if "it horrible." 

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Big Ass Giveaway! (Note: Not Giving Away Actual Big Ass. This Time.)


Yes, I am rich in sexy items and wanted to share some with you, in some sort of fucked up way of saying Thank You.

So, like Eminem, I'm Cleanin' Out My Closet, but finding sex toys instead of psychological damage. (Oh, there's plenty of that back there, too. I'm not completely deluded. Just didn't seem like that fun of a prize.)

Here's what I have for you today. (For the record, I don't get any kickbacks or anything for these, I just like sex and am super thrifty--a delightful combination. I can't stand that these would be going unenjoyed, like lonely little residents of the Island of Misfit Sex Toys.)

1.  Autoblow 2

This is a pretty major blow job machine. Kind of like a really big fleshlight, but it plugs in and does all the work itself.  Comes with a "B" size insert, so I suppose you or your lover should have a B-sized wiener (as opposed to A or C). Generally costs, like, $160 bucks.

2.  Slaphappy Bendable Couples Vibe

The Autoblow people gave me an extra one of these as well (again, don't worry, it's a different one!) and I love it. It's a nice, pretty strong vibe, though I don't get the aspect that it's also supposedly a G-Spot vibe. It's pretty damn wide and I was not gonna put that thing inside of me. Also can be pressed into service, as it were, on a guy during general fuckery or hand/blow jobs.

 3.  Wicked Awaken

A "stimulating clitoral massaging gel." It's vegan, and herbaly, is created "to heighten sensitivity and enhance libido." That sounds good, yes?

 4. Fill Me In:  Adult Colouring

A groovy Adult Colouring Book created by a super cool, sex positive chick named Sarah who is British and wastes extra "U"s like they're free. Also included is a greeting card with the image there at left and a colourable desk calendar which is now only semi-usable seeing that it's already March. (My fault).  Love her and want to support the fuck out of her.

5.  PrimalDerma
PrimalDerma is skincare lotion/goo/slipperyness that's made from beef tallow. Which sounds kind of gross, but actually is kind of a non-issue in any ways that you'd suspect. I have been rubbed down with this stuff and it was pretty fucking amazing. It's slidey, but absorbs into your skin insanely well, so you can have your way with it in a variety of ways.

I actually have more stuff: a "jumbo" butt plug, a vintage issue of Hustler and such, but I grow weary with you now.

Let me know what you want* and we'll get this started, motherfuckers.


*Contest Rules:  Tell me which one(s) you want, in the comments below or via email at I'll pick a random winner for each thing. I'll even ship that $%#@ to your door at my expense. And I won't even be a child and write what's inside in huge letters on the outside of the box. Deadline is March 18. 

In return, perhaps you could do a solid for the blog:

--Like the IBWMW Facebook page or like a post or two there.
--Follow on Twitter.
--Share a post, this contest, or tell someone about the blog.
--Mention the blog in your prayer group.
--Fantasize about the blog during a private moment.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Holidays I Forgot to Celebrate and Other Things That Are Not About the Man Fucking the Hornet's Nest

Right, so I was all primed to write about that Swedish guy who died after fucking a hornet's nest (64 stings to the genitals! Hideously enlarged genitals!) except for the very annoying fact that the story turned out to be a hoax.

That's all I had, so I turned to you, dear readers, to come up with the rest of the post. And luckily, you were all over that.

Tricia, for example, shared the news of International Clitoris Awareness Week with the 1,295 citizens of In Bed With Married Women's Facebook page.  The event was organized by "Clitoraid," a Las Vegas-based group usually devoted to helping victims of female genital mutilation around the world. Unfortunately, the holiday was last week, so you are free to resume your usual baseline level of clitoral awareness. I bring it up, however, just so that I can say that "Clitoraid" sounds like the worst drink ever.

However, if you bought a bunch of festive clitoral holiday lights on clearance, hang 'em back up over the mantle, because Leah emailed the important news of a Masturbate-A-Thon to celebrate Masturbation Month.  "Are you participating?" she wrote, in what I took to be an unkind manner. I actually should have known about this since it was started in 1995 by my corporate overlords at Good Vibrations. (2 day free shipping if order something thru this link and spend $150+, which is spendy, but it is your genitalia...) Unfortunately, Leah, I will not be participating in any of the festivities because public masturbation and ejaculation contests just make me want to put plastic slipcovers over everything. And not in a cool plastic fetish way, but a weird uptight lady way. 

Meanwhile, lovely Brit Dicky Carter, who uses excellent words like "knackered" (translated from the British="tired"), sent along the article "Deep Inside the Biggest Little Dildo Factory in Texas" which is worth it for the pictures alone. Like this one of a woman facing yet another day of dildo vein-painting:

P.S. I am housesitting and using my friend's computer.  Should I leave the photo of the dildo-painting lady on her computer? Her search history is already now a ravaged, slutty mess and I've only been here a couple hours. (Moral: It is unwise to let me housesit.)

(photo: Lady Cheeky)

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