You won't be smiling tomorrow, suckers...

I’ve written about threesomes before, and in that post I identified four different categories of people looking to get into a three-way situation; the Pleaser, the Proposer, the Experimental Couple and the Casuals. I noted that the Casuals—three people who aren’t romantically involved with each other in any way—would probably be the ideal situation. But aside from the totally casual scenario, how would a couple go about finding someone to have sex with them, casually, and how common is this actually is in real life? Of course you have the random right-place, right-time situation (too many tequila shots in a hazy college dorm room…) but if you were to actively seek out a random third-party for “sex-only,” where would you look? Is there a right way to do this?

I don’t have much (any) experience picking up someone for casual sex, but I am not sure what your rate of success would be like if you sauntered up to an attractive person idling on a barstool or camped out in a corner and busted out a line like “My girlfriend thinks you’re cute. We would like you to come home and have sex with us. Neither of us will call you after.” Hmmm. Appealing? Not so much.

Then of course, you have the online outlets, like hook-up websites or Craigslist “Casual Encounters.” A study in 2009 tracked the NYC “Casual Encounters” section  for 7 days to see how many people actually posted seeking a threesome, and broke the results down by gender. Here they are:

So for research purposes (and sheer curiosity) I spent a few minutes trolling about on Craigslist to see what that’s all about, and decided  it would take a very gutsy person to respond to one of those ads. Even with voice verification and photo swapping I would probably still be terrified I would end up rubbing lotion on my skin in some skeevy suburban basement.

So then if you can’t find a random, do you go for someone you know? What would it take to make you comfortable with the situation? With a random stranger, assuming you could find one, you could easily dismiss them and things would go back to normal. Down the line you could say “Remember that girl we did on New Years Eve in 2009? Oh man that was fun. High-five! Let’s order Thai food.” There would be a sense of  “Us Vs. Them” camaraderie going on. Maybe it would be bonding. But if you had to be in contact with the party-crasher—or worse, if your other-half was in regular contact with them—things would get sticky.

That sounds like the making for an awkward R-rated rom-com where the heroine thinks she wants to have a threesome with her boyfriend and that foxy bartender from their favorite dive, only to punch the bartender in the head in the middle of things because she has a more attractive O face. Or worse, remember that Friends episode where Ross tries to have a threesome with his wife (who later turns out to be gay) and the women completely exclude him to the point he goes into the kitchen and makes a sandwich?

I don’t even like to share my food, so I am pretty sure I could never invite someone I know to share my boyfriend. It wouldn’t matter how attracted I was to the third party–I am pretty competitive, and so would probably end up trying to out-bone the other person which sounds funny in theory but probably isn’t so hot in practice. Oh yeah, look what I can do?! No really, I would probably end up kicking them out into the hallway last-minute–and stay out! Or if I did go through with it, I would be horribly frigid toward them forever.

So what do you think, is three a party or a crowd? Have you successfully invited a third-party to share your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend? Were they random or was it someone you both knew? How did you make them disappear afterward? What kind of sandwich would you make? I want to know!

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In an act of impulsivity, a few months back I signed up for the Tough Mudder competition, an insane series of endurance tests designed by the British Special Forces that run somewhere between 10 and 12 miles in length and feature 20-30 ridiculous obstacles along the way. The event, which you sign up for in teams, tests strength and endurance as well as grit and camaraderie. Many of the obstacles cannot be done without the help of your fellow mudders. Obstacles get a bit insane (crawling under live electric wires, anyone?). The event I signed up for is in April and I am currently “training”—how one trains to crawl under electric currents or swim through ice-water, I don’t know.

Tough Mudder events are held all over the country and while I am sure everyone who completes it feels like a bad ass ( I feel bad ass just for signing up…), at the end of the season the top 5 percent from all of the competitions are eligible to compete in the “World’s Toughest Mudder,” the winner of which is crowned the “Toughest Man or Woman on the Planet.”

When most people think of a ‘vegan’ they probably think of some skinny crunchy hemp-wearing hippie stretched out on a yoga mat or rolling in some dirt. Despite the fact that there are tons of super strong vegan athletes, that isn’t the image that comes to the minds of most when you mention that someone is vegan. So you can imagine how happy (and impressed) I was when I learned last week that the female winner of the 2011 World’s Toughest Mudder was not only a vegan, but a vegan in her early 40s. Juliana Sproles, a 43 year old vegan athlete sponsored by Boku foods, won the 24-hour challenge with two frost bitten toes. Way to break stereotypes, and be completely ninja, Sproles!

Sproles, looking like a warrior. No big deal.

The World’s Toughest Mudder is so intense you have to sign a death waiver, and while 800 (half-robot?) athletes started out, only 50 finished.

Watch this video clip taken with 4 hours left to the competition in which Sproles, who is nicknamed “The Shark,” talks about camaraderie and the spirit of Tough Mudder.


 I think this is a victory for vegans all over. Okay, gonna go stick utensils in electrical outlets in preparation. Or maybe just run and lift some weights. That could help, too.

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Recently I was talking to one of my old college room-mates (I had 13 in 4 years…) who is in a long-distance relationship and is also really insanely jealous, which is basically a Molotov cocktail of relationship doom. We had a nice chat about the root of jealousy, and how she can deal with it healthily while not terrifying her boyfriend, because let’s be real–jealousy is about as sexy as Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction.

Don’t get me wrong, when I was younger I used to get crazy jealous and fume and cry. But after a few failed relationships I have come to realize that while mild jealousy is normal, insane jealousy does nothing but ruin otherwise good situations. It won’t change your partner’s behavior, but it will stop you from sleeping and make you cry all the time—two things that make you look bloated and ugly.

If you are jealous because of a lack of trust, and this lack of trust is merited, you should just get out of the relationship. If your partner is going to cheat on you, being insanely jealous will not stop them. If those people on the Titanic saw that iceberg coming, running around going “OMFG AN ICEBERG, I HATE THAT ICEBERG, THAT ICEBERG IS A SHIP-SINKING HOE” while not being able to steer the boat away would be completely fruitless. They would be better off finding a nice car to steam up below deck while the boat is headed for the berg, because that shit is goin’ down no matter what.

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Oh Laurence Olivier, I will marry you! Please "make violent love to me behind a palm tree."

Thursday night, after months and months of planning, my coworker Nick and I united our bloggin noggins. Nick has an awesome blog, The Littlest Winslow, where he writes movies, music, pop culture and general musings. Anyway, he recently created an ambitious challenge for himself entitled The Epic Film Quest where he must watch every single “Best Picture” Academy Award winning film.  EVERY SINGLE ONE! Read about his progress here.

When I heard about his adventure I pitched an idea that we get together at his house (because his TV is about 50 inches bigger and 10 years newer than mine, which is huge and white and has a built in VHS player) to watch a movie and cook some vegan food. Then I blog about it, and he blogs about it and BAM bloggers unite.

Well we kept making dates, and cancelling them, and making them, and three months later we finally sat down to watch Rebecca, the only Hitchcock film ever to win Best Picture. Also, I read the book by Daphne Du Maurier, which is why I chose it from his list of movies he needs to watch. Check Nick’s blog out to read what he thought of the (misogynistic?) film.

Unfortunately, I was feeling lazy, and so we didn’t cook. Instead, we ordered Thai food.

For me, the mark of a good Thai restaurant is a great green papaya salad. The best papaya salad I have ever eaten was, in fact, not from a restaurant at all. It was from a tiny stall at the farmer’s market in Pahoa, Hawaii, where my lovely goddess mama lives. The woman who makes the salads must have some secret because people line up for that stuff. At 9 am. It’s a damn good breakfast.

The green papaya is exactly what it sounds like—an unripe papaya. In this traditional Thai dish—known as Som Tum—it is shredded and mixed with lime juice, spicy chilies, tomato, long beans and usually fish sauce although I always ask them to leave that off of course. Green papaya has a texture like cabbage, and if done right, is yummy scrumbos. (If you know this reference, I will marry you.)

The Som Tum I ate Thursday night was only alright, mostly because it was take-out so by the time it arrived it was all soggy. It was still spicy and tangy, though. Also they didn’t give me chopsticks. Who delivers asian food without chopsticks WHO?! The restaurant, Thai Spice, is part of the well known chain of Thai restaurants in CT and NY. I like all of their restaurants, and they make excellent Thai curry. But for their papaya salad, I give them a 5 out of 10.

Below is a vegan recipe for Som Tum which I adapted from the New York Times but rarely make because green papayas are hard to find around here! Also I subbed out their long beans for edamame to give the dish a protein kick. This is not traditional, but whatever, I do what I want!

This is not my photo! Thank you,! Don't sue me!

Vegan Som Tum
Serves: 4/ Prep Time: 15 minutes/ Cook Time: 5 minutes

2 cloves garlic, peeled
1/4 tsp salt
2 tbsp dry-roasted salted peanuts, plus more for garnish
3 fresh chilies, diced
1/2 tsp agave
4 tbsp fresh lime juice (I like it really limey)
1 cup grape tomatoes, chopped
1 cup edamame
1 medium green (unripe) papaya
1 carrot
½ cup bean sprouts
Lettuce or kale for serving

Step one:
In a blender, blend garlic, salt, peanuts, chilies, lime juice and agave into a paste.

Step two:
Put in a bowl and add tomatoes, bean sprouts and edamame. Mash the tomatoes a bit with a spoon so they are juicy.

Step three:
Peel carrot. Peel papaya, cut in half and get rid of the seeds and insides. Shred  carrot and papaya, using a hand grater or your food processor, if you have one.

Step four:
Add papaya and carrot to your bowl and toss. If you’re making it pretty, line a bowl or platter with your lettuce or kale. Pile up your papaya salad on it and sprinkle with your extra peanuts.

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What could be more perfect for SexyTofu than an interview with a vegan adult film star? Read on as I dish with Kimora Klein, a half Black, half Asian saucepot who kicked off her porn career on Bang Bros—you know, the one where they drive around in a van looking for girls to bang. Not only is she a dish, but she has brains to boot, and loves to cook! (Stay tuned for a topless vegan cooking show, perhaps?) In the following interview, we talk about her recent near-fatal car accident, and I ask her for her professional opinion on the whole “vegans shouldn’t swallow” plague. Yes plague. Oh, and oral sex tips!

Z: Alright well we can start with food and work our way into juicier stuff from there. How long have you been vegan?
KK: I’ve been vegan since mid-2008.

What made you make that switch?
It’s funny, I didn’t intentionally decide to go vegan. After I moved out of my parents’ house in Miamito school in Chicagomy grocery shopping habits developed. I didn’t know how to cook meat and was kind of grossed out just at the idea of handling raw meat. I never really liked milk, so it didn’t ever cross my mind to buy it. I just naturally developed a vegan diet and after OTHER people started calling me a vegan, I started to fine-tune my diet and cut out less obvious things like gelatin. I educated myself on why someone would intentionally go vegan and it just made sense.

What’s your favorite thing about veganism?
I can honestly say that I get sick less often and that I can eat a lot without feeling weighed down.

Do you think it boosts your sex appeal?
To the veggie demographic, definitely. Otherwise, I haven’t heard from others.

Do you see any correlation between good food and good sex?
I do! It’s true, vegans “taste better.” Pineapple makes a difference, sure, but not eating red meat or lots of dairy makes a HUGE difference.

What’s your favorite thing to cook?
My favorite thing to cook is dumplings. Well, not necessarily “cooking” them but making them. I’m one of those very hands-on people, if you didn’t figure that already.

I bet you are! Okay, changing lanes. You were in an accident not too long ago. Tell me what happened.
I don’t remember anything really. I was told that a work van T-boned me on my driver’s side on the highway. I broke my hips, jaw, collarbone and punctured a lung. Also I lacerated my liver. I had to be incubated for a few days and then I was inpatient in between the ICU and a rehabilitation hospital because I had to learn how to walk, breathe, and talk normally again.

Have things changed since then? Are you fully recovered?
The whole ordeal claimed a good 6 to 7 months of my life and I’ll be dealing with the aftermath (I now have osteoarthritis) for the rest of my life. I still have really random terrible hip pain have metal implants in my jaw which sometimes bother me. I permanently lost feeling in my lower jaw line, chin and bottom lip. If you were to see me on the street, you’d never know anything happened to me unless you saw the incision scar on my neck from surgery though. I’m able to do pretty much everything I used to, just not for too long of a time or too strenuously.

Has it affected your career at all, positively or negatively?
I’d say both. I got the craziest outpouring of love and support when everyone found out what had happened. Because it was a life-changing experience, I’d say positive. There were a couple moments in the first few hours after where they thought I wasn’t going to make it and I had a lot of time to evaluate my life and what I wanted to do with myself. The only negative thing I’d say is just all the stress and physical pain I went though, and probably the fact that it’s going to be a lot harder to find companies that’ll want to shoot a girl with scars like I have.

I know you got into adult entertainment with Bang Bros. But now that you’re established, tell me what attracts you to a job.
Well porn gigs are exactly that when you’re not contracted to work with a specific company. At the time before my accident I was just kind of going for whatever was reputable. My main concern is seeing existing content or website/DVDs, otherwise I usually don’t bother. I especially appreciate more artsy fartsy erotica and hardcore rather than your usual “gonzo” and “reality” stuff.

I’m interested in what your contracts are like; any bizarre or interesting things you have to sign off on?

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So after I posted on my sweet potato latkes yesterday, where I talked about how I plan to go to my father’s house and be lazy while he cooks for me, my dad read it. So when I arrived he told me that I am cooking! My own recipe! So much for parent-child dynamics. But to make up for it, he made me a martini. His martinis always knock me on my butt, so I asked for a “baby” martini, which means it has less booze.

Well, apparently I am terrible at cooking and drinking simultaneously—even fetal, first-trimester sized drinks. I was so interested in catching up with my family and enjoying my didn’t-eat-all-day-plus-I’m-a-cheap-drunk buzz that I forgot to measure how much shredded sweet potato should go in (4 cups!) to my mix, and therefore added way too many potatoes and the latkes were a serious disaster. They wouldn’t stick together, they wouldn’t fry, they wouldn’t do anything but plop in the pan and sort of sizzle. Hanukkah fail!

latke lush

However, let’s talk about my gift from my father. To lend background to my present (and show you all where I get my enthusiasm for uhm, human sexuality) let me tell you about my cousin! I have a super brilliant cousin who, while getting her masters at Harvard (smartypants), had a project where she had to design, create and market a product. Her partner in this project would later become her husband. Their product? The ‘pleasant surprise’ bag; a swanky bag for you to carry and/or store all your sex toys in.

So, if you’re a call girl traveling from hotel to hotel in the dead of night, you can carry your tricks in this posh purse-style bag with separate breathable, mesh compartments that you can remove and wash to keep things clean. Or if you’re going on a romantic vacation—or spring break!—and you want to bring all of your dirty accoutrement, now you can do it without looking like the freak you clearly are. Or, in my case, now you can just store all your sex toys in one place instead of flinging them all over your closet, causing you to swear a lot as you dig through to find what you’re looking for.

Bag next to my fuzzy 8 1/2s so you can get a size idea.

This was my Hanukkah gift from my father. (My step-mother gave me a lovely globe Christmas ornament. Christmas ornaments as Hanukkah gifts! Ironic?) After I left, pops send me a text message to make sure I get home safe and tell me to “have fun loading my bag.” Weird?

The bag used to have a website, but since it’s been nearly a decade since the bag’s birth and my cousin’s project is in her past, the site now belongs to a cruise line.

Do you see how it says your VALUABLE adult toys? When my dad gave it to me (sorry for blowing up your spot dad but what did you expect, really?) he told me he didn’t think the bag was big enough for “all toys.”  The convo went like this:

Me: All toys?
Dad: Yes, like magic wands.
Me:  You mean a Hitachi?!
Dad: Yes, aren’t they like the Jaguar of sex toys?
Me: Pffft, I can’t afford a Hitachi…
Dad: It would be weird if I got you a magic wand, right?

Yes. Yes it would be. So, what did you get for Hanukkah? Are you frustrated with all the different spellings of Hanukkah? Does your family get you interesting gifts? Does your family design accessories for sex toys? Do you want to buy me a Hitachi? Do you think about Uma Thurman wielding a deluxe vibrator and going “Hitachi Hanzo!” when you think of the Hitachi? I know that’s a lot of questions but I have had SO much COFFEE!

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Happy Hanukkah! Today is the first of eight crrrazy nights, and so in lieu of another sexy rant, I will post recipes for my favorite traditional Jewish dish, with a twist: Sweet Potato Latkes. Tonight I will be going to my dad’s house ( also I am posting this ‘cause my dad gets upset when I post too many rants about sex in a row…more food!) where we will be eating sweet potato latkes, and regular potato latkes. But I will not be cooking them tonight, because when I go home to my parents’ I like to be lazy. You have to hold on to that parent-child dynamic as long as you can!

So here is my jazzed up version of sweet potato latkes, with apple compote.

Sweet Potato Apple Latkes
Serves: 2/ Prep time: 15 minutes/ Cook Time: 15 minutes

4 cups sweet potatoes (about 2 medium sweets) peeled and shredded
1 apple  (I like Braeburns), diced
1 small Vidalia onion, minced
¼ cup whole wheat flour
2 batches flax egg replacer (I usually have this pre-made in fridge)
½ tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp ginger
oil (I use Safflower) for frying

Step one:
Combine shredded sweets (I shred with my Cuisinart or a box grater),apple, onion, flour, salt, cinnamon, ginger and egg replacer in a bowl. Use your hands because it’s more fun and takes less time than a spoon.

Step two:
Wet your hands to prevent sticking and form smallish, flat pancakes. This recipe usually makes 8 or 9.

Step three:
Heat a tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Add pancake and fry 2 minutes per side until golden. Add more oil, if needed, between pancakes.

Apple Compote
Serves: 2/ Prep time: 6 minutes/ Cook Time: 15 minutes

This is the ultimate lazy girl recipe. I cooked it last week at 9 pm, without the latkes, in my slippers and robe, while listening to Cat Power (who makes me want to take off all of my clothes due to Pavlovian conditioning). When it was complete I ate the entire batch with a spoon, thus the lack of photo-proof. Food blog fail…

3 apples, peeled and roughly chopped. Again, I use Braeburn.
1 tablespoon Earth Balance
1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ tsp nutmeg
¼ tsp ginger

Step one:
In a small saucepan over medium heat, sauté apples in melted Earth Balance for 4-5 minutes.

Step two:
Once tender, add syrup and spices.

Step three:
Turn heat to low, cover and cook 6-8 more minutes, stirring to prevent burning.

Serve over latkes. Or not. Who am I to tell you what to do? Happy Hanukkah!

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I know this doesn’t leave you much time, but what can I say? I’m a last minute type of girl. Below I have compiled some of the most ridiculous sex toys ever invented. Buy them for someone to watch the awkward look on their face when they are trying to decide if they should laugh, punch you, or burst into tears.

1. Harry Potter Vibrating broom

I love me some HP, but not enough to buy a child a vibrating broomstick that they straddle. This is technically a children’s toy. If your children like masturbating.  Mattel recalled this, obviously. However, find it for your favorite Harry Potter fan on eBay!

2. Avatar Dildo
But, but…I thought they make love with their tails!??!

3. Zombie Dildo
Everytime the sky gets dark and stormy or the grocery store gets mobbed pre-hurricane I am running around in my combat boots thinking zombie apacolypse zombie apacolypse. In fact, it’s basically the only reason I took up running. So I can be prepared…to run away…since I have no other skills that would help me survive.

4.Santa’s Little Helper
Get the holiday spirit all up in you.

5.Hide-A-Vibe Teddy bear.
Because keeping it in your underwear drawer is so cliché.

6. Fundies
Undies built for two! So silly. And unhygienic.

7. Pussy foot.
What.The. F*ck?!?! I thought pussy footing was just an expression! And the picture makes me shiver without fail every time I look at it.

8. The Little Rooster.
Best. Alarm. Clock.Ever. Go to bed with it in your pants. Wake up with it still in your pants…but vibrating.

9. Wine Rack Bra
Okay this isn’t a sex toy but it really would have come in handy in college. Also in April when I run the Tough Mudder.

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How can you resist that face?

What’s better than a sex toy? A really cute and discreet sex toy, that’s what! Look how adorable this vibrating bath buddy is. I’m gonna call him Count Quackula. Is that weird? I mean to name your sex toys…anyway, I Rub My Duckie is one of those vibes that claims to be a “massager,” as if it’s foolin’ anybody.  Right, mister duck…you’re a “massager” and I write about “romance.”

The cutest of all of my playthings, this little guy has 3 speeds and is waterproof cause, duh, he is made for the tub! He also claims he can be good for couples, but my man-friend lives pretty far away from my bathtub and so I can’t vouch for that. But I can tell you he makes you want to stay in the tub long after the water cools. The only quacks (no? too much?) I had with my Dirty Donald were that he is loud, and pretty large. But if you don’t mind big and noisy and you want something as unique as it is discreet, then go duck yourself! Buy him for a friend for Christmas or Hanukkah. Also, put bubbles in your tub because they make every bathing experience joyous.

Do you love your I Rub My Duckie duck? Do you have any more corny jokes that involve the word “quack?” Are you a mother and were you mortified when your child stole your duck for tub-time?

Zucchini poses with the duck for a size reference…is that weird?

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If you are my friend, then you have probably gotten a text/message/e-mail/phone call/in-person wide-eyed plea that goes something like “I need a sex topic. Please.” Sometimes, if I have an idea in mind and am conducting research, my inquiries are more intrusive; “ What’s the weirdest thing someone has said to you in bed?” or “Hypothetically speaking, if you are wrapped in a 6 foot Boa during sex does that constitute beastiality?” or “Are you a grower or a shower?” or “Is your muffin buttered?”

I got 5 hours of sleep last night, plus an extra 40 minutes on the train home from NYC, so the point of this part of the rant is that I am feeling sleepy and uninspired today. After 3 cups of coffee and no inspiration, I turned to a friend for ideas. “Give me a sex topic,” I demanded via FB chat. And he did! So without further ado, here are 5 ways your body will betray you during sex.

1. Premature Ejaculation—this is a bummer for all parties involved, but it happens. Sometimes—whether it’s because you’re tired or really REALLY excited or you haven’t gotten off in a while—your body betrays you and your baby batter goes all sea biscuit. He was fast, right? I think I read somewhere (Oh I am so scientific) that premature ejaculation counts as anything under two minutes, and that the average man lasts about 100 thrusts. Men, when this happens, instead of being embarrassed and immediately falling asleep in a puddle of your own humiliation, just make sure your lady-friend gets off and I promise she won’t care you came earlier than an elderly couple at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

2. Bodily Eruptions—our bodies are gross bags of fluid and hormones. Seriously, we are nearly all water and chemicals and hot gas. Sometimes we have to burp/fart/sneeze, and sometimes we have to do it while we are trying to be all sexy. Life just isn’t fair. When this happens, try to ease the situation by making a joke out of it. Don’t pretend it didn’t happen, because you both know it did, and that will just get awkward. Also, in lady-cases, the worst of all worst noises—and one that is sometimes unavoidable—is the dreaded queef. Unlike a fart, there is just no way to hold that in, because it’s just some air that got trapped in your tubes while you were boning away. Bummer.

3. Whiskey Dick—or the female equivalent, Vodka Vag. Ew. Sometimes you drink past the point of frisk and your body betrays you by putting you in the mood and then making you unable to perform. Basically, you’re too drunk for sufficient oxygen to flow to your sexpieces and depending on your sex you either can’t get it up or can’t get sufficiently, erm, moist. When this happens, either enlist the help of some serious lube (if you have a vagina) or just cuddle instead. Everyone likes a good drunk cuddle. Sex it up in the morning to cure a hang-over. Okay, not really, but at least you got to have sex at some point.

4. Blood. Like your ex boyfriend, your period always shows up when it isn’t wanted, making for awkward situations but great stories at brunch the next day. Or maybe it isn’t your period but for some reason you start to randomly bleed all over the sheets of the guy you’re seeing who freaks out and insists on washing them immediately and then complains when the stains set because he is an idiot and washed them in hot water. Also, I had an ex who was prone to nose-bleeds in the winter. I am not sure which was worse; the time he got a bloody nose all over my face while making out with me, or the time he got a bloody nose while going down on me. I think he was more traumatized than I was; I’ve been seeing a bloody vagina for one week of the month for the past decade, although I will admit it’s a little more un-nerving when it isn’t your blood.

5. Your Stupid Brain—I feel like this is the biggest way your body can betray you during sex, although technically it‘s more of your mind committing treason than anything else. Not sure about you all, but I know personally that I can be completely in the mood, working up some steam, and then before I know it I am flat on my back but instead of enjoying myself I am running through my to-do list or thinking about that obnoxious thing my friend said over drinks last night. Not only am I wasting a perfectly good sex sess., but there is zero chance of me having an orgasm when I am too busy worrying about getting fired for the things I post on the internet to notice that someone is enthusiastically tonguing my ladybits.

Okay so how does your body betray you when you’re trying to have sex? Tell me your embarrassing stories, please!  Oh, and feel free to weigh in on the whole Boa/beastiality question posed above…I promise not to call PETA.

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