Remember when I wrote about cohabitation being the anti sex? Since I am newly cohabitated, I took a moment to re-read my own advice. One thing I didn’t mention in my previous post is what happens when both of you are still into sex, but your sexual rhythms aren’t aligning.
I’m not talking about thrust speed here, I’ll let you hash that out on your own. I’m talking about when one of you is a morning boner, and the other is a night…uh…noodler? Continue reading
Communication is important in your relationship, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Sometimes—most times—the stuff we really need to talk about are the hardest topics to approach. This is especially true for intimate issues, where egos, feelings, and future sex sessions are on the line.
Maybe your guy is a too rough with your goods or drums on your ladybits like he’s tapping out morse code. Or maybe your girl isn’t as active as you want her to be, and just lays there underneath you like she’d rather be watching Game of Thrones. You really want to bring it up, but aren’t sure how.
Sure, it would be great if everyone was awesome at being direct AND gentle. (This is not the time to be bossy, my fellow Type A’s. No one bosses their way to better blow jobs. No one I know, at least…) Continue reading
I am 7 days away from my move to Hawaii, and my new cohabitation situation with my manfriend. We’ve been discussing what will be different in our new living situation (basically everything) and how we will handle any problems should they arise – like splitting groceries, doing chores, etc. These are things to discuss now so that we don’t end up throwing dishes in two months when someone can’t understand how to clear a shower drain for the umpteenth time. I’ve seen relationships derailed over less. Continue reading
One of the biggest issues I had when cohabitating was a stale sex routine. Not that the actual sex was stale, but now that we were living together and sex was a possibility any time, instead of becoming more exciting, it became more…well…routine!
Especially signaling when it was time for sex. I had a hard time getting my ex to understand that “Hey, you wanna have sex?” is not a turn-on. In fact, I found that most verbal come-ons are a turn off, in less they are expertly delivered.
I know I’m not alone here; a girlfriend of mine was recently lamenting about a similar issue with her long-time live-in. They were at the grocery store a few weeks ago when her man leaned in and said “So you wanna do it tonight?”
While it can be hot to know your partner is thinking about you naked as you browse the canned goods aisle, this came off as more “I am lazy, I don’t want to put the effort into seducing you, but I’d like to get up in it.”
Uhm…excuse me? I thought we were choosing between garbanzo and kidney beans for our soup…
So how can you signal it’s time for sex without the verbal blabber? Heavy petting usually works, but if you want to go for something a little more subtle than a (well-timed) crotch grab, consider creating your own sex signal. Batman had a bat-signal that told him when it was time to get down to business, and you can too. Continue reading
I originally wrote this for www.ieatgrass.com! Love me some reposting on a Friday.
I feel like joining the mile high club is something that might be cooler in your imagination than in real life, like that time you got to fuck a B-list a celebrity, which you thought would be awesome, but instead they just looked at themselves in the mirror the whole time. Fantasizing about it was better.
Here is the anxious girl’s guide to having sex on a plane. Sort of. Because sex is the only other option when the airline is charging you 4 dollars to watch a shitty movie. Fuck you, Hawaiian Air.
1. Put down the book you’re reading and casually begin rubbing your boyfriend’s junk. Casually, I said.
2. Once he is half-masting, whisper in his ear to meet you in the bathroom in 2 minutes.
3. Go to the bathroom and wait 2 minutes. As you wait, begin to get anxious.
4. When there is a knock on the door, yell WHO IS IT, even though you know it’s your boyfriend because who else is going to knock when the sign on the door says OCCUPIED? Continue reading
You guys, sorry for neglecting you! I have been crazy busy and AFTER I was crazy busy, I went to visit my mom in Hawaii and have yet to return. It’s really hard to write with all this sunshine and tropical fruit. But here is my weekly column from iEatGrass.com! And you can also keep up with me at XOJane.com. Sorry! Stay tuned for more island adventure fun…
I’m being facetious. This was my real life this week, and NOT a fantasy. #bragbragbrag
If your Valentine’s day was more Love Stinks than Love Actually, then you might welcome a little bit of fantasy right about now.
Fantasy, or “pretending” as you called it in your youth, can be a useful tool in all facets of your life. All those uplifting think-yourself-happy motivational types swear by using fantasy to improve yourself, except they call it “visualizing.” Visualizing yourself landing that promotion or killing that presentation will make you more likely to do so. That’s all good and well, but none of that is as fun as sexytime fantasizing.
Sexual fantasy allows you to explore sides of your sexuality you may not be able to in real life, and it creates a safe, super hot space for you to retreat to when you need a little, cough, motivation. Role playing? Done. Bondage? Yes please. Sex in public? On it! Sex with your ex, or best friend, or teacher, or boss? You betcha. Pony play? Uhm…maybe? Continue reading
I originally wrote this for www.iEatGrass.com. Go there! Do it!
Uhm, what? If you are confused by that title, don’t worry. I am too.
Recently, an article surfaced on Tree Hugger talking about how pubic lice, aka crabs, are becoming extinct due to “lack of habitation.” The article notes briefly that a study showed 80 percent of US college students are trimming or fully removing all of their pubes, and as a result, crabs are dying out.
While not many of us are boohooing about the lack of crabs crawling around our fellow bar-goers panties or boxer-briefs, it’s still important to note how a small change in human behavior can impact organisms around us. (Cough. Veganism. Sorry, I had to!)
But that’s not what fascinated me about this pubey article. It was the study mentioned. I looked into this study, and was immediately enthralled. But first, let’s just talk about pube trends for a moment, shall we? Continue reading
Euphemism
This was originally published in my column for www.ieatgrass.com.
In my own sexcapades and all of the hours (and hours and hours) I have spent talking about sex, and writing about sex, I have found a common theme: Most of us don’t spend enough time on foreplay.
Foreplay involves (at least!) two people, so EVERYONE would probably appreciate some more pre-game TLC. But women take an average of 45 minutes to get fully aroused. Men take much, much less time. So when you rush right into penetrative sex, it’s usually the women who are getting stiffed. Continue reading
This photo has nothing to do with anyone I just like these fish.
I know everyone is all about making new year’s resolutions, but I really dislike the word “resolution.” It removes all flexibility, and I like to keep it flexible. Instead, I like to set “intentions.” While both resolution and intention highlight a bit of forward-looking determination, intention just seems so much gentler.
I say yes a lot. Yes to new plans when I know I’m already crazy busy. Yes to a second drink when I only wanted one. Yes to going out when I feel like staying in, or my bank account is begging me to stay in. I am not sure where this need to say yes all the time came from, but I guess I assumed successful people gained momentum from saying yes. I mean, saying yes to EVERYTHING is better than saying no to everything, right? And it’s good to get out of your comfort zone and say yes to a plan or adventure that seems a bit risky. But I often find myself in situations where I think, “ugh, why did I agree to do this?” Not this year. Continue reading
Sorry about neglecting you…
You guys! I have been seriously neglectful with my posting recently. For that I am sorry. But it’s the holiday season and I have been crazy busy! So in prep for New Year’s Eve, here is a round-up of the most popular SexyTofu posts of 2012. Sometimes my dad (hi dad!) gets uppity that I write more about sex on here than food. “It’s a sex blog, not a food blog!” But you guys kind of like reading about sex—the stats prove it! All of these posts are sexysexy, and I didn’t play favorites with these, I just looked at the stats of what posts had the most hits. SO basically what I am saying is we’re all a bunch of perverts. High five!
Back in June, I went down to Tennessee to check out Bonnaroo with a handful of my lady friends. We didn’t get to shower for 6 days, and things got a bit dirty. At the campsites, everyone’s tents were on top of each other, so we overheard a lot of really great conversation snippets, like the couple arguing because the boy kept spilling bong water all over his girlfriend’s shoes.
“YOU SPILLED BONGWATER ON MY SHOES!”
“It smells good!”
“IT SMELLS LIKE BONG!”
One evening I overheard a guy saying his last girlfriend used to fart in front of him, and it “ruined it” for him. “Some girls just ruin the mystery, you know,” he said. You know. The mystery of the fact that we, like most humans, have an asshole. I also felt bad for him because I assumed he had probably overheard some conversation snippets emanating from OUR tent. We had a lovely discussion about our lack of bathing opportunities over the past week which was creating something we called “crotch wine.” I wonder what that ruined for him. Read more…
I like to joke that I have three clitoris’. (Clitori?) As a ballerina-boobed babe, I am happy that for what I lack in sweater stuffing, I make up for in sensitivity. I also might name my future daughter Areola, just to be funny. What I am saying is I like nipples, so I was excited to stumble upon this Huff Post article about breast orgasms, which I will call boobgasms. Read more…
A while back I wrote about a reader who had written to me with questions regarding butt play, and I had recommended that if she is interested in some anal action for beginners she start small—with a finger. She reported back to me that the finger went over fine, and that she is still hoping to one day get comfortable enough to have an actual phallic member in there. Also apparently her boyfriend is quite large, which makes first-time sex of any kind even more painful. So we got on the subject of anal plugs. Anal plugs are the cilantro of the bedroom. You either love it, or hate it. You either want it all over your enchiladas, or you think it tastes like soap and gag every time you even think about it.
Basically, anal plugs are not for the vanilla soft-serve style sexers, but more for the inquisitive mattress mavens—someone who doesn’t find inserting a piece of plastic in their butt uncomfortable (in theory and action).But I mentioned them to my reader-friend, and suggested if that’s something she thinks she is interested in, she should look into a very very small anal plug. She went out and got one of those kits that come with three different sizes so you can ease yourself into it gradually. She told me that even the small seemed pretty large. So, I recommended to her the Pop Plug (size small, of course). Read more…
My goal in life is to be one half of a randy old couple. I want to still be having sex when I am old and wrinkled. But stereotypes say once you’re shacked up and shackled, sex falls to the bottom of your to-do list. A stale sex life is one of my greatest relationship fears, after divorce or maybe death of my partner.
It’s easy for your sex life to take a hit when you move in together, especially if living together is less than dreamy. Your partner won’t clean or worse, they are obsessively clean. Their habits start to grate on your nerves, and you’re picking trivial fights. I mean, who wants to deliver some mid-afternoon fellatio when you spent the morning picking their hair out of the shower drain? Not I. Read more…
For those of you who don’t speak sex toy, the Hitachi Magic Wand is the Cadillac of toys; Super fun to drive, even if it is a bit bulky and out-dated. This bad boy still plugs into the wall—that’s how out-dated it is, and the box it comes in looks like it’s straight from the 80s, equipped with pictures of spandex clad ladies massaging their calves with it. One, everyone knows you don’t use the Hitachi in a PG fashion and Two, who the heck actually massages their calves? Read more…
