Guest Post: "Demystifying Cunnilingus" by The Barreness

Today we bring you a lesson in the art of pleasuring a female orally. Or, as it is more formally called, "cunnilingus." (Though it is Most Certainly Not called cunnilingus by anyone I know--even at the most formal of occasions. Cunnilingus is a displeasing word, made all the more displeasing by the prominent "ling" sound right there in the middle of the word, forcing anyone who says it aloud into making an involuntary suggestive flick of the tongue.)

Our instructor in the art of, well, you know, is a lively, sassy Brit, The Barreness, who writes the equally lively and sassy blog Hello, Sailor.  I urge you, using my highest possible words of urging, to check it out immediately. At the very least read Meet the Barreness, an intro to the Barreness worldview. But you're here for cunnilingus talk. Let us cede to the Barreness:

Greetings Chaps and Chapesses.
As you might have guessed, today's topic is an educational one, its necessity brought into rather glaring focus for me throughout the recent audition process.

As it turns out, despite machinations and unsubstantiated claims to the contrary, nearly every man I meet, infuriatingly  most men  lots of men are absolutely bloody clueless about how to give good head.

Considering Porn, Perhaps Too Much

So, I have been thinking about porn. Not in the John Mayer "There have probably been days when I saw 300 vaginas before I got out of bed" way (each of the 300, I assume, a wonderland). No, I'm thinking about porn in the over-intellectualizing way that is my way as a compulsive reader/writer/lazy-ass (basic tenet of this life philosophy: Why actually do it when you can just read about it?) It was all spurred by an article, Should We Worry Whether Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality?, sent by an In Bed With Married Women reader from Michigan.

The article features an interview with Gail Dines, author of Pornland: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality, in which she "traces the history of the porn industry from Playboy and Penthouse, to today's brutal fare than resembles nothing less than the videotaped sexual assault of women." Dines says that today's porn is vicious, it's everywhere, readily available, and it's ruining our ability to have intimate relationships.

Dines isn't just some uptight lady revisiting the old "porn is bad for women" arguments and picking out the worst porn to support her points. She studied the most mainstream, freely available porn--the idea being that she would look at whatever would be available to the average 11 year old kid trolling for porn on the Internet. (Kids these days have it so easy. Why, in my day, we had to do serious reconnaissance to find a local dad's Playboys.)

Here is a sample of the opening text of a typical mainstream porn site Hines found:

Do you know what we say to things like romance and foreplay? We say fuck off! This is not another site with half-erect weenies trying to impress bold sluts. We take gorgeous young bitches and do what every man would REALLY like to do. We make them gag till their makeup starts running, and then they get all other holes sore -- vaginal, anal, double penetrations, anything brutal involving a cock and an orifice. And then we give them the sticky bath.

Okay. Yes, it's fantasy, not reality. Yes, it's just sex. And, yes, it's porn, for fuck's sake--of course it's supposed to be nasty. And yet... As much as it's fantasy and not real life, media porn does give people some sort of guideline for what sex looks like. Is this really how we want to instruct our young people (and ourselves, for that matter) in how to enjoy each other?

In the interest in pure journalism (and, okay, fine, some prurient interest), I googled "porn." Here's some of the available fare today on the top hit, PornHub: "Now Be A Good Bitch...", "Busty Brunette Gets Her Ass Nailed!" and "Three Guys Fuck the Blonde Whore." I watched "Three Guys Fuck the Blonde Whore." [An aside: I actually have a degree in film studies (you got to watch movies in class!), and it's all come to this. Sorry, Professor Bauland.] Besides some really really bad acting by the actress who scored the highly coveted role of "Whore"--at one point, her "passion" closely resembled "giving birth to twins"--there didn't seem to be anything super-offensive. I might prefer it was called "Woman Enjoys A Tryst With Three Attentive Gentlemen" or something, but that's just semantics.

What was striking to me was the lack of variety. Oh sure, there are your Asian chicks, MILFs, barely legals and the like, but the general tone is that the women are all "sluts" who need some jackhammer pounding. Whatever, that's fine enough, but that's the only choice. By focusing on only one form of sex--faceless man bones over-emoting slut--we miss out on the 8 billion other forms that sex can take. Where's the joyful, the transcendent or the deliciously slow sex? Where's the sex where the participants are overcome by passion--or at least glance at each other with slight friendliness?

I'm not such a girlie girl that I need a lengthy backstory involving Scottish Highlanders and a lost family secret or something, but some sort of recognizable human emotion would be nice. To that end, I turned to Good Vibrations thinking they, being female-friendly, progressive and all that, might have something more appealing.  I found a movie called Matinee.  Here's the description:

Two theatre actors who play onstage lovers without much zing -- until one critical peformance, when they decide to improvise. The results will thrill you as much as they do the Matinee audience who watches them really begin to make love. Bridging the gap between indy art film and sex film, this plot-driven, scripted mini-featurette by US-born, Amsterdam-based filmmaker Jennifer Lyon Bell features real actors performing their first-ever explicit scene, not porn performers, and the result is smart, nuanced, and oh-so-sexy.

"Smart,""nuanced," "Indy art film"? I'm all over that (see above, admission of film degree). So I am just going to order the damn thing to figure out if I'm just an uptight prig who thinks mainstream porn is kind of lame, or if most porn actually is kind of lame and I just seek a higher quality product. (see again: film degree, connection with pretentiousness).

If you want to watch along with me (not literally, I have enough weirdos sending me poorly worded invitations to meet up with them), click on this link or the picture at the end of the post to order the movie. (It's $29.95 but don't forget, if you're a new customer, use the coupon code GV15OFF to get 15% off.) We can reconvene in a couple weeks and discuss it.

In the meantime, what do you think of porn? Do you watch it? Do you shun it? If so, why? Have you found porn that's sexy? Tell me what you think. Just not in person.

The Week in Misguided Googlers, Redux

Does penice have two c's?

Last night, as I am wont to do, I was looking up the Google search terms people use to find In Bed With Married Women. This was suitably pleasing, as always. I saw the weird search terms ("how to make fursuit penises"), the weirder ("wifes first attempt at fucking a dog") and the blunt ("BOOBAGE"). And, as usual, plenty of requests for "nacked" women, but the one that stood out to me was "looking at anus." "Looking at anus." It was enigmatic--what did that person even want? Why "looking at anus" instead of a more obvious choice such as "photos of anus" or "anus pictures"? Were they interested in looking at anus themselves, or did they want to see a picture of someone else looking at anus?

I remarked on this to my husband, who idly wondered many Google pages Mr. Looking at Anus had to go through before In Bed With Married Women popped up. (It could, I suppose, be Mrs. Looking at Anus. Or more likely was just her name through marriage...) Well, there was nothing to do but type in "looking at anus" myself to find out. To my surprise and horror, In Bed With Married Women is the number two hit. That's right, if you want "looking at anus," apparently In Bed With Married Women is the place to be. It sits there above the #3 hit, a HealthBoards post involving an "ulcer looking sore inbetween scrotum and anus" and the #1 hit, a collegehumor.com headline reading, "The most realistic chocolate anus we've ever seen." And this point, my search history was a slutty, ravaged mess anyway, so I clicked through to discover that there is a company in England that sells chocolate anuses (ani?) in three flavors. On their site, they take great pains to inform the customer of the high quality of their chocolate anuses, noting darkly, "unlike some other unscrupulous novelty shops who get their chocolates made in China."

For us, making chocolate is an art, which is why we only produce traditional hand made chocolate of the highest standard. We also believe the anus range can dissolve cultural boundaries of race, gender, and sexual orientation.   

It's a little high-fallutin'-- it is a chocolate butt, after all. Still, if chocolate butts can ease race relations, break down sexual stereotypes and whatnot, I'm all for it. I am concerned, however, that they might have trouble finding an ample customer base. In a famous(ish) experiment by Paul Rozin, he presented subjects with fudge formed into a realistic likeness of dog poo. Although the subjects knew intellectually that the fudge was just plain old fudge, most of them couldn't bring themselves to eat it. (And most, I imagine, were also wondering why the hell this weird research guy kept insisting they try the dog poo-shaped fudge.) Anus is somewhat higher on the edibility scale than dog poo, but to most people, I'm guessing, not quite enough higher.

Anyway, all this has nothing to do with married women, sex or even beds. But maybe that's okay. Maybe I'll just follow the advice of one anonymous In Bed commenter who suggested,

Hmm... If it's pageviews you're after, meebee you should add those misspellings / unfortunate phrases to your metadata. You'll get the number one search ranking for "hair of penice" in no time. 

I don't actually know what "metadata" is, but when I find out, I just might do it. So if you're in need of top-notch, high-quality info on your penice, giving hand jops, being nacked or, of course, our specialty, looking at anus, we'll be here to meet your needs.

True Wife's Tale #5: Laura and Mismatched Sex Drives

Today’s True Wife's Tale takes you into the bedroom of Laura and David, married twelve years. Their issue is different sex drives. He wants it, she...not so much, or at least, not so frequently. It’s probably also germane to note that outside of the bedroom, Laura is generally “the decider” in the relationship. She is a very busy exec in the movie industry and David is a custom furniture maker who works at home.

Sometimes David and Laura reach a happy détente on how and when they’ll have sex, other times their differences threaten the marriage. When I interviewed Laura she said, “I’ll be curious how we compare to the other people you talk to because my husband always thinks that we’re broken. He told me he’s concerned this might be the end of our marriage. That broke my heart.”

Laura's solution to this dilemma? Make a deal with David (she is a movie exec, after all). If he wants sex--really really wants it--she will agree, with no complaint. The thing is, he doesn't just want sex, as in, a quickie, he wants sex as in "making love," as in lots of time spent on the act, orgasms (non-fake) had by all, etc... Does this agreement charge up their sex lives, or does Laura get fed up and renege on the deal? Well, you'll just have to read below and find out now, won't you?

And while I'm being all bossy, here are some questions for you:
--How do you handle it when one person wants sex and the other doesn't?
--Do different levels of desire cause problems in your relationship?

(True Wife's Tales are an In Bed With Married Women continuing series in which women tell the damn truth about their sex life, no matter how embarrassing, non-existent, hot or enviable it may be. If you'd like to tell your story, click here.)

In Bed With Married Women:  How’s your sex life these days?

Laura:  Our sex life is, in my opinion, just fine. We have it on average, two to three times per week. In

A Contest, Because We're All About The Free

Your plan for the
afternoon?

"Afternoon Delight" isn't just the name of a really bad song, it's also the name of today's exciting In Bed With Married Women prize. The Afternoon Delight Kit from Good Vibrations (clearly there are kits for absolutely everything these days) contains all sorts of girlie treats. To win its bounty: click on the link (here it is again), then be the first to come back here and correctly identify one of the items in the kit. You can answer as a comment below or, if you don't want the whole world knowing that you spend your days trolling the Internet for free marital aids, drop us a quick e-mail.

(Note: Just so you know, when you order from Good Vibrations, they don't send your stuff in a see-through box with "Here's your weird-ass stuff, you big ol' perv" scrawled all over it. It's just an innocuous-looking package with a plain, vaguely British-sounding return address like Barnaby Limited or something like that. No one will be the wiser about your penchant for his n' her butt plugs, falconer's gear or whatever it is that floats your sexual boat.)

Dog Toy or Sex Toy?

Consider the objects below:

Hmm... Soft-looking, pliable, nubby. Possibly good to chew on? Should you toss it to your dog for a quick round of tug-of-war? Or is it something sexy that you should immediately stick on your wang? Thus are the weighty philosophical questions pondered in Guy Cimbalo's "Sex Toy or Dog Toy?" on the Smoking Jacket. In it, he asks the age old question: Throw it to the dog or stick it up my bum?

Here's a quick sample:

1. Sex toy or dog toy?

Could be some sort of fun Frisbee kind of thing... Could be some sort of double hole plugger thing to share with that special someone...

2.  Here's another one:

Silly face caterpillar chew toy? Or something that, if used properly, does not seem so great to chew on--not at all?

Have you filled out your answer sheets? Okay, then, here the results: 1. dog toy.  2. sex toy. If you want to play more, here's the link again.   

P.S. It is just dawning on me that if I am hoping to bring in more than $1.47 peddling sex toys on this blog, it is probably not the best financial strategy to be constantly making fun of said sex toys. So in a last-minute attempt to cut my losses, I will tell you that the first item pictured above is the O-Joy Stimulating Cock Ring and available through the link from delightful frank and open sex toy company Good Vibrations. It's only 8 bucks and, for you, because you're so very very attractive, I can offer you 15% off your first online order. Just enter the coupon code: GV15OFF. Plus, if it doesn't work as a sex toy, your dog--or possibly a teething baby--might enjoy it quite a bit.

P.P.S. I am in a very public busy coffee shop and simultaneously typing words like "cock ring," repeatedly referring to the Good Vibrations site and trying to manipulate the photos above in an innocuous manner. In front of me sit a table of four policemen. Am I breaking the law? I hope not, as the bagels are pretty good here. All I can do is hope that those around me think I'm posting something about the latest dog toys. Ack! Old people just sat next to me. "Oh, I see they have chicken soup here," the woman tells her husband in a wholly uninteresting fashion. Can't...angle....screen...far...enough...away...from...them. Gotta go!

Six Ways To Get In Good--Real Good--With In Bed With Married Women

This photo is supposed to
signify me begging. And, apparently,
doing yoga. While naked.

It's ridiculously easy to get in good with In Bed With Married Women. Here's how:

1. Comment freely and often. It's the variety of voices and opinions that make it interesting around here. And, don't worry, if you're a big wuss, you can always comment anonymously.

2. Donate using the terrifically handy "Donate" button there in the right margin. It's like I'm your barista and you're tipping me, except I don't give you any coffee. (Please donate, please oh please oh please. I don't want to stop doing In Bed get a job as a stinkin' technical writer. Um, no offense to technical writers. You keep up the good work!)

3. Become a fan of In Bed With Married Women Facebook page. (And recommend it to your friends if you're feeling especially gregarious.)

4. Tell your friends about the blog. Cult followings are cool, but not when it's you with the cult following.

5. Share your story. Tell us about your worst sexual experience, that time you did it with a panda and a mountain goat, your best lover ever--whatever, we're into it.

And finally, if you're too damned lazy to do any of the above, here's one super-easy, no-skin-off-your-back way to contribute financially (see above: technical writer, fear of becoming) are:

6. Use the links on the In Bed With Married Women page to purchase your various and sundry sex paraphernalia from super cool, eco-friendly, pro-sex San Francisco company, Good Vibrations. Which, my friend, is about as win-win as you can get. 

Behold! The New Contest Has Arrived.

The fabulous prize this time around? This lovely "Night of Romance Kit" from Good Vibrations, purveyors of pro-sex goodies that range from nice little romantic candle/massage oils all the way up to scary, alarmingly large plug things for people's butts. (Instructions: place item in butt.)

Mmmmmmm, free stuff.

If I were feeling testy, I would award the prize to the first reader brave enough to watch the E.T. porn (bear witness to the horror--or don't--in the post The Most Unsexy Porn EVER). But I am full of soy latte and all's right with the world, so I will give you a simpler task. Well, sort of simpler. It's actually kind of multi-tiered. Here's what you do: Be the first to correctly post the name of any one of the items from the Night of Romance Kit (shown above) on the wall of In Bed With Married Women Facebook page. All right then, don't tarry now and good luck.

Vagina Cupcakes

Okay, vagina cupcakes, I have
used you.  Now, begone from
my computer!

The other day the cable guy was at our house connecting our Internet and needed to tinker about on my computer. After he left, I went to glory in the sorely-missed wonders of Home Internet, but when I walked over to my computer, I couldn't help but notice the big ol' file sitting right smack in the middle of my computer screen. It's name? "Vagina Cupcakes." Yes, Vagina Cupcakes. Even if Cable Guy was wanting to believe it was a perfectly normal file (and I'm guessing he sorely did), I can't even imagine any file named Vagina Cupcakes that would not be something completely unsavory. (To his credit, Cable Guy didn't bat an eye.)

I am not a packrat in real life (quite the contrary, if you must know), but virtually, I'm a hoarder. I keep things stowed on my computer because I think I might need them someday--just like why your grandma saves those packets of soy sauce from the Chinese restaurant. If anyone has a emergency requiring tiny squirts of low quality soy sauce, well, voila, she saves the day! This is why I had stored a photo of some cupcakes decorated as vaginas front and center on my computer. Months ago, a kind reader had sent the photo suggesting I might use it for...something, so I dutifully kept it. A smarter person would have named the file something benign like "Taxes 1997" or something, but I have a bad memory and can't keep track of such subterfuge. It's a picture of vagina cupcakes, so I named it Vagina Cupcakes, dammit!  

And Vagina Cupcakes are just the beginning--that's the kind of thing I have out on my desktop, for anyone to see. My bookmarks are even worse. It is there that I keep the items that I might one day trot out for you, gentle reader. Among the things that reside there are (and don't say I never warned you):

1. 
   
   An article on MILF porn.
2. A web site for a Fursuit Cleaners. Fursuits, you may recall, are the animal costumes that some folks like to don while banging other folks dressed in fursuits. (Strategically-placed flaps facilitate the process, if you're wondering) The cost of a fursuit cleaning, btw, is $75. I would charge more--WAY more--but that's just me.
3. "A History of the Buttocks."
4. Info on a talking vibrator.
5. Something entitled: "The Pussy Snorkel."
6. Also, a recipe for garlic chicken, but that probably doesn't fit the theme here.

I don't know what I'll do if my computer ever has to go in for service because, after a few months of this blog, my computer is toxic, and should probably taken in for questioning. I mean, my search history alone, what with its weird sex toys, fascination with other people's odd (to me) fetishes and excessive interest in the female condom, is enough to run me and my nasty-ass computer out of town.

Even the blog is pretty iffy--I can barely even look at it in public. For example, right now, I am in a cafe in a small town in Michigan, surrounded by wholesome-looking, pale Michiganians. Whenever I need to sort of park my computer for a minute, I try to stop on an acceptable part of my blog. Naked lady picture at the top of the blog? No--scroll down! Talk of "female penile handling"? No! Picture of a dildo? Anal bleaching? Ice butt reference? Ack! No, no and NO! 

I know it's 2010, I write a sex blog and I should just get over it and be out and proud--get used to it!--but I'm just not there yet. So I'll talk freely with you, Internet Stranger, about such things, but Mrs. White-Haired Lady Over There At The Other Table, I won't be sharing my feelings about fursuits with you today.  And for that, I think we will both be grateful.

Guest Post: Sex With the Wife, A True Husband's Tale

Today I give you a post from Sex With the Wife, in which Mr. B chronicles his sex life (and the frequent lack thereof) with his wife. Here, let's let him explain:

This started as a place for me to bitch and moan about how awful my sex life is. A few months later my wife went into therapy for depression and messed up hormone levels, so this became a place for me to chronicle those problems. Now people have started to read the blog and I have found a whole community of guys who aren't having sex with their wives and still aren't cheating on them.  I guess I am just another guy frustrated at not having sex but is trying to be a man about it.

In "One Thing Leads to Another," Mr. B does manage to get lucky. What I like about this post is that it's about real married sex and from the guy's point of view, but also because Mr. B is so attuned to--and articulate on--the way his wife's body responds (or doesn't) to his ministrations.

Tuesday night was busy. The county fair is in town with all their death trap rides, and Tuesday was kids' wristbands night, where the rides are slightly cheaper than usual. I had a meeting in the evening, so my wife took all three kids to the fair. I met her there when my meeting was over, so she could take the three year old home and put her to bed. I stayed with the older two and let them go on rides until the fair shut down at 10pm. The whole family pretty much got to bed late and was groggy the next morning.
 
Wednesday was a good day of activity for me, although my wife needed a break. She was still in recovery mode from her traveling, so she took the morning off. In the afternoon she picked up her new work computer and spent the afternoon installing software on it and getting her files organized. I was working on various presentations and planning for the next school year. In the evening we were both unmotivated regarding dinner, so we went out for Mexican food. We dropped our oldest daughter off for a sleep-over and put the younger two to bed.

We were both tired, but I had complained to my wife that I always get an adrenaline surge when I get into bed with her. It doesn't matter how tired I am when I go to bed, as soon as I am in bed with her my hormones send a surge of energy through my veins. So when we got into bed, we chatted a little, and my wife asked me if I was tired or what. My response was that I could sleep if I had to, but I always have a different preference. So we opted for her to try reading her romance novel, while I spooned up next to her.
 
After a while I was just laying next to her trying to fall asleep, while enjoying having her close. Her vibrator was laying on my night stand, because I had finished recharging it the night before, so I got it out and just set it to its lowest speed and started using it on her gently. If she is reading her romantic literature, a little gentle stimulation is often welcome to help her get up to speed. But I was pretty sleepy, so mostly I just held it in place while lying next to her. I tried counting to fifty and then repositioning the bullet a little bit. I was just trying to be helpful until she took over with the vibrator.

She would shift her body every once in a while and rub her leg up against mine. I started using my other hand to stroke her leg gently. I traced the outline of her outer vaginal lips and teased her pubic hair. She wasn't really aroused, so I didn't want to push; I just wanted to maintain her interest. I was just trying to gently touch the skin, without getting into the sensitive inner lips, which don't respond as well to being touched before there is lubrication present. I can also judge the amount of blood flow to those lips by touch, which gives me a good judge of my wife's arousal level. They still felt rather limp and floppy, so I didn't want to go diving in where my fingers were unwelcome.

Once I notice a change in my wife's breathing along with more verbalization on her part, I decided to switch the setting on her vibrator from the lowest setting to the slow build. This is where the vibrator starts slow and builds up to the top speed over about 5 seconds and then repeats. My wife has mentioned how she enjoys this option for building arousal. I also repositioned myself more between her legs, so I could more effectively use both of my hands on touch her down there. I was kissing and licking her inner thigh while keeping the vibrator on her clitoral mound and using my other fingers to move her natural lubrication around. I was mostly trying to tease her and take it slow. My wife is pretty much lying on her back and reading (on her iPhone - so she can read in the dark) the whole time I am working on her.

I keep kissing closer to my wife's pubic hair and privates, but I really don't think that she wants oral sex tonight, so I am just working on building anticipation. I kiss one leg and then the other. I slide my tongue up and down her thigh. I keep expecting my wife to take over operating the vibrator, because usually I do a poor job of finding just the right spot. This time she is giving me enough feedback that I can get a sense of where she wants it. I am also working on moving it less and just letting it stay in one place for longer stretches of time.

My wife does make a decision to switch the setting on the vibrator from slow build to high gear. She leaves me in charge of the bullet, so I figure I must be doing something right. I keep getting closer and closer to kissing her directly on her kitty when I finally give in and start licking her down there. I always have a hard time balancing the vibrator with my tongue, because I want to lick where the vibrator is working. So I move the vibrator down low to the entrance while I lick and play with her clitoris. She is significantly aroused and responding to my touch. Her vag is open and ready for company, so I slide the bullet inside her canal. This brought a very favorable response from my love buddy as she felt those sensations on the inside. I continued to lick and taste her. Her natural lube was not as oily as when she is quite aroused, but adding my saliva to the mix certainly increased the slippery factor down there.

I had fun for quite a while licking and probing with my tongue, trying to be gentle and teasing and not forceful and invasive. At the same time I was keeping track of the bullet vibrator inside. I had a hold of it my the cord, but it was completely inside her. My wife switched off her book soon after the bullet when inside and was just taking in the sensations. I pulled the vibrator out from deep penetration and focused on the entry-way. These muscles seemed to be gripping tightly and responded to the push of the vibrator against them. Then I felt my wife's orgasm begin. I could feel the vaginal muscles contract around the bullet vibrator. I always enjoy feeling my wife's orgasms for myself. After a bit she pushed me away to let the orgasm proceed uninterrupted or distracted by my ministrations.

We hadn't removed any clothing during this whole process. Her night gown was still on, as were my pajamas. I stripped my clothes off and her top as well. She was incredibly relaxed and jelly-like. I suspect if I had let her she would have fallen asleep then and there. I laid on top of her and kissed her repeatedly (which is what I really enjoy most of all). Of course, between my erection and her lube I slid easily inside her. I pumped slowly in and out, trying to kiss her and experience her body. We switched to a lotus position, with me sitting cross-legged and her legs around my waist. This was a nice slow screw which I enjoyed. At the end I lay on my back with her atop, but I didn't last long in that position. I enjoyed being able to last longer than usual, because I hadn't really been receiving much stimulation until after her orgasm occurred.

She did seem quite pleased by the quality of the orgasm and how I had done pretty much all the work. She commented how I kept teasing her and teasing her until finally I got her off. I was pretty pleased with myself and how I was able to take my wife to the orgasm, even though she was tired and not especially excited about the idea at the start. I am really loving the sex now, but I think I need to give my wife a bit of a break for a bit. We have a romantic weekend planned next week, and I don't want her to be overwhelmed before we get there. I definitely want there to be some good sex there, so it would help if she had a little desire and wanting at that time.

Swings of Desire, aka, Ovulation = Beer Goggles?

Is this chick ovulating?  Check out her
clingy clothes, symmetrical boobs,  the
manly companion... Signs point to "yes."

"People like to forget that we're animals, tied to the Earth and the tides," says a friend with a penchant for making such delightful proclamations. Yes, we think we're making rational decisions, exercising our free choice, and all that... but half the time--hell, maybe all the time--we're just blindly responding to our hormonal instructions like remote control cars in the hands of a sugared-up kid. To wit: a recent study showing that women buy sexier, clingier clothes while ovulating. (To those who spent sex ed class giggling in the back of the class: ovulation is the woman's fertile period. And if you don't start paying better attention, I'm going to have to break out my diagram of the female reproductive system.) One of the study's researchers--sounding less like a scientist and more like an evil cyborg villain from a future dystopian universe--noted a way that corporations could cash in this phenomenon by hitting up the ovulation-crazed females ready to shell out cash on push-up bras and the like:

"Our findings suggest marketers for many types of female products are well served to strategically time their mailings, coupons, electronic solicitations, and direct requests to the specific window when women are ovulating."

It's evil, I tell you! (Presumably the marketing flyers for unsexy clothes would arrive a couple weeks later. JC Penney's, it's your time to shine!) But ovulating women aren't spending all their time buying sexy clothes, they're mindlessly obeying their hormones in myriad ways. Women's voices get higher-pitched during ovulation, they walk differently, prefer more masculine faces and are more susceptible to pick-up lines. During this period, they're also more likely to fantasize about someone other than their partner. (For your consideration: Javier Bardem in that scene in Vicky Christina Barcelona where he seduces two women by telling them, "Life is short, life is boring, life is full of pain," thus, they should immediately run off to an island with him for the weekend.)

Um...what was I saying, oh yes, during ovulation, women's bodies change like some mutant Transformer, except instead of becoming robots in disguise, our ears, fingers and breasts get more symmetrical and skin color lightens. (Cue creepy sound effect to signify mutation.) Women actually get observably prettier, and subjects consistently rate ovulating women as more attractive.

And it's not just the ladies going all crazy with the hormones. Men think ovulating women smell better, they get more jealous of dominant males when their partner is ovulating and they give ovulating strippers more tips. ($70 an hour for the ovulating strippers vs. only $35 for the menstruating ones, but I'm guessing that's because the menstruating ones were probably sobbing in the corner, complaining that everyone had become a complete asshole.)

It all seems a little complex. I don't see why humans didn't just adopt the chimpanzee method of the females developing a big swollen pink butt when they're ready to go. It's a simple, obvious and clear signal of willingness. Although, admittedly, the pink butt route has its own drawbacks. Swollen pink butts do in fact make your butt look fat in those jeans, and pink butt makes it much more difficult to play it coy.

Female: Hmmm...I don't know if I'm interested...
Male: Uh, I can see your big ol' pink butt, you know.
Female: Oh, yeah, right....Let's go back to your place then.

Several friends and I have noticed that as we've entered our 40s, our cyclical swings of desire have become much more pronounced. One week we'd rather read a book, the next we're eying the bag boys at the grocery store. (Has the guy who brings the carts in always been so smokin'?) It's like when we're into it, we're WAY into it--like Superfreaks--and when we're not, well, eh, whatever. So here are your questions for the day: Are you elderly like us and is this happening to you as well? If so, is this an actual physical phenomenon, or have we just become more attuned to the rhythms of our bodies? And you too, men, how is your desire changing as you age? Comment below, or drop us an email.

The Week In Misguided Googlers

As I've noted more that is probably reasonable (see also: Open Message to Terribly Disappointed New Readers and Sorry, No Explicit Pictures of "Penis in Vagina") I am consistently fascinated/amused/freaked out by the search terms people use that dump them unceremoniously here at In Bed With Married Women.

You see, no one ever searches for "wittyish blog about sex which, even though it's about sex, is difficult--if not impossible--to jack off to." Not that I can blame them--it is a bit wordy. Thus we are stuck with the dregs of search terms. I think Google gives us the searchers they don't know quite what to do with. This perhaps explains how the searcher who typed in "what say women uncut hair of penice and vagina can give more enjoyable sex?" landed bleary-eyed and confused here at In Bed. ("Women up the man in in bed" searcher, I'm talking to you, too.)

The tortured syntax, the untraditional "penice" spelling...oh you don't know the half of it. How about "pinnes bleach," "how to make my wife whim and groan in bed," "women hand jop &fucking the bedroom" and, my personal fave, "newely married women shoes her nacked body." I know some of these people are probably typing with one hand, but still... I can't help but conjure up the image of the woman with the nacked body enjoying a view of her lover's penice, perhaps followed by a hand jop then a "fucking of the bedroom," though the last part about them fucking the bedroom is sort of difficult to picture since I don't know what the hell it means.

Then there are the highly specific fetish searches. That would be "porn images of womens to wear female condon," "pictures of women anal bleaching," "sexy fursuit boobs" (as opposed to the unsexy kind, I suppose) and "train yourself to take a dildo deep in your colon." (Don't bother me now, I'm in training.) The searcher who typed in "fat anal blogger" was also sent to me, and don't think I'm happy about that one. Ditto for "women with saggy breasts are good lovers."

But my favorite search this week came from U.K. Google: "free pictures of female penile handling." I know Brits are supposed to be a bit more buttoned-up than Yanks, but "female penile handling"? Really? "I do say, Miss, might I trouble you for a spot of female penile handling?" (It's a nice touch that this person is unwilling to pay for their pix of penile handling.)

I will leave you today with this question posed by one searcher, who was perhaps overly trusting in Google to solve his ethical dilemma. "Is it wrong to fantasize about a married women?" he typed in fearfully. I say, "Geez, dude, get it together--even Jimmy Carter admitted to lust in his heart." But then I write an un-jackoffable sex blog, so I might be biased. What do you think?

Here Are The Keys To The Blog. Keep An Eye On It, Will You? (And NO Parties.)

So my Internet is down, and I am thus forced to suckle at the corporate teat that is Starbucks' free wi-fi. ("Free" if you don't count the $3.95+tip drink that sits by my side.) I know, it's tragic. I can pause if you need to run and get a hankie. Anyhow, I can't leave the blog just sitting here. Could you take over and answer this question a lovely reader sent in? Why? A). As noted a couple of sentences ago--stay with me, man!--it is temporary arduous for me to attend to Internetish things. But mainly, B). I can barely unload my dishwasher, let alone solve someone's actual life dilemma. I am completely unqualified. But you, random Internet stranger, I am sure that you are fully credentialed in such matters. Will you give it a try?

Dear In Bed with Married Women,

I am in turmoil and I need your help! My husband and I have read many times that for the most sex and romance in a bedroom, you must not have a television in there. We took out our television with me imagining more frequent sex and cozy reading side-by-side, even some tantalizing conversation about the sexy books we were reading and sharing with each other.
Unfortunately, my husband still does not read much (I thought it would change with no t.v. in the boudoir). He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. I, on the other hand, have a terrible time getting to sleep at night so I will be up reading alone for hours while constantly nudging him to stop his chronic snoring or I watch my dvr'd shows on t.v. .......in the living room.
Well, needless to say, our sex life is worse than ever because I keep falling asleep on the couch in front of the television. I wasn't putting two-and-two together until he pointed out that we 'retire to the bedroom' (meant to be read in a deep, Tom Jones-kinda voice) at completely different times now. Before, we would both go in there and while my glorious television shows played in the background we would satisfy our desires; afterwards, my shows were still there waiting for me and he could sleep away (while I constantly nudged him to stop his chronic, ear-drum-busting, snoring). We both were happy.
Am I doing something wrong, or should I just put the television back in for some romance?
Tragically Yours,
Sexually Depraved TV Addict

So what do you think? My all-purpose advice is generally "walk it off," but I'm not sure it pertains here.  Got anything better for her? I think you do.

Is "Ice Butt" A Color? And Other Important Questions of These Times

Reader Buckeye Wife and her husband were inspired by the Mangina post to Google "weird sex toys." "Really, I'm not a perv," she hastens to add. "Just immature and still giggle about weird sex stuff." The most decidedly non-pervy Buckeye Wife and her husband stumbled upon a discussion thread featuring the excellent discovery that Amazon sells sex toys. Yes! Bookish ol' Amazon, peddling smut!

Writer Smith1990 linked to two especially intriguing products, noting, "The comments are brilliant. If you feel like a giggle and aren't uptight about sex, go have a look." Of course, I was so there.  And it was well worth the arduous task of clicking the link to behold the Private Pleasures New Soft Touch Vagina & Anus. I mean, the description alone!

Soft & sensual! So incredibly life-like, you'll think you are deep inside of me!! Sensational ribbed passage. Tight & sassy anus. 6 Inch love tunnel. Exquisitely detailed vaginal lips. You can feel my soft Vagina and anus swallow your throbbing penis with every stroke. As you slide into my private pleasures the feeling is so life-like that it's as if you were deep inside of me!! I like it both ways! Sold as a novelty only. 

I love so much about this: that the anus is described as "sassy," the random capitalization of Vagina and the fact that it's "sold as a novelty only." I can't imagine any non-novelty use and I've spent a good minute or so trying. But perhaps most lovely thing about this paragraph is how it's written from the point of view of the disembodied anus/vagina thing. Genius! And I have to admit that the anus/vagina thing does indeed seem to have a pleasant and agreeable personality. After all, who likes a grouchy anus/vagina thing? ("Jeez! What are you doing to me?! I have to get up early tomorrow!")

Buckeye Wife and her husband were also enchanted by the FleshLight Masturbator and I can't blame them. The FleshLight (not to be confused with the excellent Parliament song "Flashlight") is an artificial anus housed, inexplicably, in a flashlight canister. The ad copy claims this is "discreet" storage, but I picture this causing way more problems than it solves. ("EARTHQUAKE!!" "Don't worry everyone! Everything's gonna be fine. I grabbed this....uh, anus masturbator.")

Writes Buckeye Wife, "My favorite part is that the color of the FleshLight is listed as 'anus.'" Oh, mine too, Buckeye Wife, mine too. And a side note to those who don't care for the color "anus": you will be pleased to know that the FleshLight also comes in the colors Pink Butt, as well as Ice Butt.

How I Became An "Anal Bleaching Expert"

Hey there. Are you busy? Google the phrase "anal bleaching expert" (with the quotes). Go ahead, I'll wait.... Do you see what I mean?

YES, to my horror, I am now the stinkin' top hit for "anal bleaching expert." How can this be? I mean, I only wrote one post about anal bleaching--okay, fine, I wrote two--but that's not the point. The point is that I'm placing the blame for all this squarely on the shoulders of the newly-hateful* Stephenson Billings, writer for parody extremist Christian web site ChristWire. (At least I certainly hope it's a fake site.)

In his post, Anal Bleaching, For the Sodomite Who Wants to Look His Best, Billings warns his readers of the horrors of anal bleaching, citing the In Bed With Married Women post Is Your Anus Looking Its Whitest?, and referring to me as an "anal bleaching expert." When I saw this, I replied something to him like, "Oh great, now I am an anal bleaching 'expert,'" noting that I would need to print up new business cards.

At this point, Billings cruelly referred to me again--in bold letters no less--as Anal Bleaching Expert Jill Hamilton. Well, that did it. ChristWire has a gazillion readers and before I could sputter impotently, "But, wait a minut...", I had become...Anal Bleaching Expert Jill Hamilton. Which, now that I see it in all caps, sounds like a really unhelpful Superhero.

Few things would please me more than seeking revenge on Billings, but I am stymied about what to do.  What could I do, really, that would be worse than linking his name in cyberspace forever to the phrase "anal bleaching expert"? So I guess I have no choice but to embrace Who I Am. So to potential employers, my daughters' future beaus, and others who Google me to check my reliability, character, etc...I say, Yes--hear me loud, hear me proud--I am Anal Bleaching Expert Jill Hamilton and there's not damn thing I can do about it!

(*Note: I do not actually find Stephenson Billings to be hateful. I mean, this has to be the best joke anyone has played on me, ever.)

Boxers, Briefs Or...Mangina?

My thanks to Scary Sextoy Friday for placing this image into my brain, where it will remain forever, burning slightly. I feel that it would only be fair to provide the same service to you, so to that end, I present The Mangina, aka, the Masturbator Vee-String.

What is all this business about a Mangina? Calm down now, and let's let the nice people who sell it explain the thing:

The Masturbator Vee-String Vagina Prosthesis is a latex prosthetic vagina, specifically designed to provide an ultra-realistic vaginal appearance while hiding the male genitals. This is the pussy equivalent of a strap on cock. The Masturbator Vee-String Vagina Prosthesis is designed to complete the illusion of being a woman. The penis is placed into a hole where the clitoris is, which holds the penis and keeps you in place.

Are you following the physics of all this? You kind of slide through the back, tying the thing on like an especially hairy, non-breathable g-string. The Mangina advertising prose continues (and I do so love imagining the person whose job it is to write alluring blurbs for such products):

It allows a man to have a vagina whenever he chooses to tie it on. This vagina prosthesis can be worn for hours at a time.

Hours at a time, huh? This is good news because this Mangina is so attractive and sexy, I am thinking of wearing it as regular underwear. (Being careful, of course, not to wear white pants. I would only show my Mangina to that special someone.)

Cleaning of the Mangina is pretty easy, which is a good thing, since hours of Mangina-wearing can leave it a little...not so fresh. Just some soap and water, a dusting of talcum powder and you're ready to strap that baby on again. I am a little bewildered by that latex bumhole hanging listlessly below the Mangina, but I'm sure it must have some use. At the very least it allows me the pleasure of imagining another worker--the guy whose job it is to make little latex bumholes.

Alas, such craftsmanship does not come cheap. The "small" is $249. At first I was alarmed to discover that they came in sizes. After all, a small Mangina is one thing, but a jumbo-sized Mangina is quite another. ("I want to buy a fake vagina, damn it! And make sure it's HUGE!") But the size refers merely to waist size. The extra-large fits a 50 inch waist, which says to me that, if you aren't getting laid, you are probably doing something wrong. If some dude with a 50 inch waist who also needs to wear a Mangina during sex is finding willing partners, you probably should be too. (And yes, I do realize that by saying that, I am pretty much guaranteeing that in my next life I will come back as a 50 inch-waisted, Mangina-wearing dude. I can only hope that Mangina prices go down by then.)

Beyond Anal Bleaching (Yes, There IS A Beyond)

Wrote DanWins of the anal bleaching post (Is Your Anus Looking Its Whitest?),"You have got to be kidding, what will they think of next...bleaching penises?" Well, DanWins, yes, that's exactly what they thought of next. According to Fade-Cream.com, which I am sure provides only the finest of non-biased "medical" advice:

Penis bleaching is all about hygiene and feeling good. Whitening your penis not only makes you look good in bed but it also increases your self-esteem.

That's right, DanWins, there's nothing like the feeling of walking about town, knowing your penis is light and bright! Don't mind that painful burning, it's all about "feeling good"! And you know how the ladies love an unnaturally pale penis! And a man so insecure he bleaches the hell out of his dick. Yeah, we're all over that.

The Housewife commented, "Have you heard of Betty Beauty, the hair dye for the hair down there?" Why, yes, I have. In fact, my dear friend bought some (in a festive fuschia color) as a Valentine surprise for her husband. "I'm not very hairy in my 'lady area,'" she reports. "I didn't know you have to have a bush like a Chai pet for it to work." She tried to comb the dye through her sparse foliage, but ended up getting the lurid color all over her "lady area," her thighs and, eventually, all over bathroom. Picture a crime scene, if you will, and you'll get the general idea. My friend is a plucky sort, however, and decided to go through with the grand unveiling anyway. "When my husband came home, I opened her robe and said, 'I just wanted to you to know I had the best intentions.'" Unfortunately, his reaction, perhaps understandably, was more akin to horror than arousal. "It looked like a couple of preschoolers had smeared fingerpaint all over my crotch." I guess the only way to balance the sexual karma there is for her husband to bleach his penis a scary-ass white color (and perhaps his anus while he's down there with toxic chemicals) to scare the bejeezus out of her. I'm not a psychologist, but I'm pretty sure such a gesture would not only even the score, but provide the important element of surprise, keeping that marital spark alive. 

In Bed's Feeling Oddly Tasteful Today

Yes, it's pretty unheard of around here, but this contest does NOT involve a prize that you will have to hide in your secret "grown-ups" drawer. (Although we all know your secret drawer is the one next to the bed. You're not fooling anyone.) The Fancy Me Kit, courtesy of groovy sex toy company, Good Vibrations, is chockful of non-embarrassing stuff like bubble bath, a candle that magically turns into massage oil, a massage bar that melts on contact with skin, lovely lotions and whatnot. (To see "whatnot" defined in more useful terms, click the picture below.)



To win you must be the first to post the word, "Mine" as a comment under the most recent post on the In Bed With Married Women Facebook page.

Is the prize worth several seconds of arduous clicking, you wonder? Well, as you can see, it's a $36 value. That's two digits, my friend. And an independent reviewer on the Good Vibes site wrote, "If you're looking for a little romance and passion in your relationship, you should look no further than this fun little kit." (Note: this particular reviewer goes by the name "Muscle Squirt" and is, thus, maybe not the best source on issues of romance.)

Let's see, what else?
1. If you're paranoid about getting a package that says "HERE'S YOUR SEXY TOY DELIVERY, YOUR BIG PERV" in big red letters on it, fear not. Good Vibes mailed something to me and it was in a totally normal looking package with a vaguely British sounding return address. I could have been receiving a scone delivery for all anyone needed to know.
2. If you want to just order the thing yourself, no muss, no fuss, just click on the link above.

"How to Spot A Masturbator"

My undying gratitude goes to the reader who sent me How To Spot A Masturbator. If you look at the article--and you probably should--you will read that masturbation is "a serious issue facing families today" causing all kinds of ills from penile fracture, workplace accidents, raw and callused hands, and a tendency to leave one's shirt untucked to allow "easy access."

Or so reports ChristWire, a website offering "Conservative Values for an Unsaved World." I'm 99.7% sure it's a parody site--I mean, its other Onion-esque news stories include "Satan Now Teaching Animals To Sin"--but it so could be real. What do you think? Look at this from the article's author/masturbator-spotting expert Stephenson Billings:

Despite the warnings of doctors and religious scholars, masturbation still remains very popular in America. As a society, this degree of self-manipulation goes too far in familiarizing men and women with their bodies. 

It all certainly seems like a joke--People becoming familiar with their bodies??!! This must be stopped!!--but there really are people who believe jacking off is sinful and bad. (See previous In Bed post: If You Can't Be With The One You Love). ChristWire is brilliant in how close it echoes real-life extreme views. Check out this passage in which Billings offers parents advice on curbing a son's self-abuse.

To help turn the tide on this crisis, it’s important for parents and work supervisors to be able to spot a chronic or even just a casual masturbator in their midst...One trick passed on to me is that you can press your nose to a young man’s mattress, inhale deeply and (irregardless of the smell) announce, “That smells like semen.” If the boy’s face turns red and he runs from the room, the evidence is clear.

There are just so many things wrong with this advice--not the least of which is that no one in their right mind should EVER press their nose to a teen boy's mattress and inhale deeply--but haven't you read parenting advice that's just as wrong-headed? Is this any more stupid than "experts" that purport to turn gay people straight?

ChristWire is so spot-on, it had me fooled for an embarrassingly long time. And, honestly, I was kind of bummed when it finally dawned on me that it was satirical. Still, if you want some hideously misguided advice on topics such as Do Gay Pets Go To Heaven?, I'd recommend you head to ChristWire straight away. 

Is Your Anus Looking Its Whitest?

Driving home the other night with friends, the conversation somehow turned to anal bleaching. (That the conversation could suddenly veer in this unsavory direction is exactly why we are friends.) Apparently society at large--without consulting me, mind you--has decided that anuses (ani?) are to look as lovely as possible. What supposedly makes for a good-lookin' anus? A light pink color. The trend started with adult film stars who wanted to look their best in extreme butt close-ups. It gained ground when people started waxing the hell out their neither regions and discovered new body parts to fixate upon. Plenty of people, it seems, have the time (and the inclination) to peer into their butts noting imperfections. "Hey, Hon, what are you doing in the bathroom?" "Be out in a sec! Just looking at my anus! By the way, Sweetie, does this underwear make my anus look fat?" 


Those who don't have the proper shade of pink can achieve colo-rectal perfection through anal bleaching. According to Bleach Bum, a site for "anal bleaching information and advice," "Anal bleaching is one more way holly wood celebrities try to stay younger." I am not that eager to take anal bleaching advice from anyone, particularly from someone who can't spell Hollywood, but I bravely clicked on. Basically they recommend two techniques: talking to a dermatologist about a bleaching cream, or way way less embarrassing, buying an over-the-counter bleaching product. But it was their third suggestion that concerned me the most. To wit:

3. You can prevent anal staining by being cautious in the bathroom. We suggest using a moist wipe after every bowel movement. This will ensure that the area remains clean and stain free.

Yes, they are telling you to wipe your butt after going to the bathroom. I guess it stands to reason that leaving poo on your butt would cause a stained appearance, but to be quite frank, that would be the least of your worries.

Anyway, we came up with a fine entrepreneurial idea, which you are quite welcome to steal. Anal bleaching strips. Like tooth whitening strips, you could wear them while at work, at play, out to dinner, whenever! Here, I'll even write the ad for you. The scene: two women talking on the phone. "Hey Barb, could you watch my kids while I get my anus bleached?" "Kathy, get with the times! I'm folding the laundry AND bleaching my anus in the comfort of my home! My anus is as pink as a new lipstick. And, Jim, by the way, is thrilled. He can't stop bragging to the fellows at the office about my light and bright anus!"


The price of anal beauty is a bit steep, as there have been various dangers associated with skin lightening, including skin cancer and liver and kidney damage. So you have to balance the variables. Is a foxy-looking anus worth getting a hideous disease? Should everyone's butt look the same? Do you agree that it is indeed a good idea to wipe after going to the bathroom? Do tell.

A Moment of Immaturity In Your Day

A reader sent in this video from Jimmy Kimmel's "Unnecessary Censorship," in which Kimmel takes perfectly benign TV clips and bleeps out a few words, instantly giving them a new R-rated subtext. (Apparently he has been doing this for years but I was none the wiser since I haven't stayed up that late since about 1996.) This version features clips from "Sesame Street," and after seeing this, I now view Elmo in a whole new light.

Reader Mail (The Undead Version)

Do you love Twilight? I mean, really really really love Twilight? I mean, love it so much that if you could sort of have sex with the movie, you totally would? Well, my friend, you are in luck! A kindly reader from California (using a variant on the standard reader mail introduction of "saw this weird-ass sexual thing and thought of you!") drew my attention to The Ten Most Baffling Twilight Products on Salon.com. Included are "Twilight" condoms, a gay porn film "Twinklight" and an Edward "manllow", which is half man/half pillow. Click "read more" below if you want to, uh, read more.

An Open Message To Terribly Disappointed New Readers

To the readers who used the following (real-life!) search terms and found themselves deposited unceremoniously here at In Bed With Married Women, I offer my profuse apologies. I know you very carefully typed in your search terms like, "sexy mail carrier Atlanta," "clitoris video bed boat," and "married woman likes butt touch." I'm just as shocked as you that you ended up here, but fully confident you will eventually find your married woman who likes butt touch. (Helpful hint: maybe wait a few dates to bring up the whole butt touch thing.) And please rest assured that if I knew what a "clitoris video bed boat" was, In Bed With Married Women would make every effort to assure your needs were met.

I sincerely hope that you searchers with poor grammar and/or barely fathomable spelling skills find what you were really looking for. Yes, I'm taking about you, people who typed in "happy to exhibits their inhibitions,""vajazzing in southerb california" and "string bad seks."

Person who typed in "plastic roof ero," well, I don't know what the hell you were looking for, but I'm pretty certain you didn't find it here. Sorry. And to the Internet user who asked their search engine, "Do women like furries?": If you're asking me personally, then the answer is "no." But I'm sure there's a nice little filly out there somewhere who will like your sexy chipmunk costume just fine.

And finally, dear reader who searched for "look at pics of + wifes worn out stretched vagina," I'm not sure why you were directed here, but I have to say that I'm a little miffed at Google for thinking that In Bed With Married Women would fit the bill.

So, to you all, I say: Please, enjoy your .0004 second visit to In Bed With Married Women! Come again any time.

Hey, Baby, I Treat You Right

Pssst, my kids are gone for a few more minutes so I only have time to fling this contest at you before I rush away, squealing my tires in my haste and setting the neighborhood dogs to barking. Here's the deal:  you can win the spiffy Girl's Night In Kit shown on the left.  I don't have time to tell you just what's in it, but since it's from Good Vibrations--our fave tree hugging, girl-power, San Francisco-based sex toy company--it's a good bet that it doesn't contain scrapbooking doodads. (To see what is in that intriguing little box, click this link.)

Here's what you have to do. Be the first person to tell me what one item in the kit is. You can either answer in a comment below (press the comment button to do so) or, if you don't want the whole world to know that you're vying for free stuff online, feel free to drop us an email.

Balloon Sex And Other Excruciatingly Specialized Phone Sex Lines

I was reading Playboy's site The Smoking Jacket, because--oh, there's no time for explanations, dammit!--and came upon "8 Strange Phone Sex Lines You'll Never Call." I don't like to be told what to do (or do I?), so I had to read it immediately. At the very least it was going to be better than their other so-not-my-demographic articles like "Stuff You Should Know: Balding" and "Which Malt Liquor Is Right For You?" (Although I might give "Why Robots With Vaginas Are a Bad Idea"  a perusal later. Why are they a bad idea? I have to say I haven't given the matter much thought.)

Anyway, the strange sex lines were not, I am sorry to report, staffed with a perky group of robots with vaginas, but rather with women who sneeze over the phone, women with gas, and women from Canada. ("I am aboot to take off my bra. It is a red colour.")  

There's also a balloon sex line. Says Jenny (shown above lovingly cuddling with a very very special balloon):

My fantasy is a room full of balloons for me to roll around in. Even if I only have one balloon I just want to rub it all over myself. There’s nothing better than the squeaky sound of a balloon squished into the palm of my hand while I rub it all over my body especially on my tits and yes, even between my legs! The static electricity is definitely a turn-on.

I am so curious as to what event--exposure to balloon animals + inadvertent boner?--had to happen to someone to birth this balloon fetish, but apparently there's a whole balloon culture with sub-fetishes including riding balloons, squishing balloons, popping balloons and balloon domination. ("The balloon doggie wants you to touch yourself. Do! It! Now!")

There's also giantess phone sex for those with a shrinking or growing fetish. I'm not quite sure if it's caller or callee who is shrinking or growing and, since I am writing this in public at Barnes and Noble, I am not especially keen to be hanging around on their web site too long to find out. Here's the link, if you're feeling so inclined. There you will find the helpful advice that a caller should "Ask the dispatcher for the hottest women dealing with shrinking or growing." I guess it's so you don't get the un-hot giantess. "Yeah, yeah, I'm giant now. So what? Have you seen my corn pads? Dammit, it was a brand new pack!"

There's also a line for amputee phone sex which is bothersome, not because of the whole phone sex thing, but because the women in the picture clearly isn't even a real amputee. She obviously just bent her leg up and then applied the most rudimentary of photoshop techniques to blur her "stump." This sits the wrong way with me, like when actors play someone of another race. I mean, how much lower can you go than taking a job from an amputee?

As for me, I am keeping the Granny Phone Sex line in mind for myself in case In Bed With Married Women keeps up its stubborn refusal to make more than 67 cents a day. How easy would it be to take calls, repeatedly yelling "What grade are you in, dearie?" and talking about neighbors who have died. Dude, c'mon, it's two bucks a minute.  

xoxo
jill