Rants About Sex

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I Daydream of Weenie

While I know a good number of people who vocalize loudly that they do not dream or at the very least concede to the fact that they don't remember their dreams if they're indeed having them, I dream a

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My Duplicitous Love of Porn

Duplicitous (adjective): "Given to or marked by deliberate deceptiveness in behavior or speech."

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Grown Up Sex

I've written a lot about sex over the course of my "blogging career." Hell, I still write about sex on a regular basis and get paid for it, something that still is working circles in my brain.

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Roll Over Fucks

I'm glancing at my cell phone bill the other day, attempting to calculate how I managed to rack up as many roll over minutes that I have, especially considering that my coworker who loves to point out

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"She needs you to smack her on the bottom..."

There's an undercurrent flowing steadily inside of me. It started a couple of days back and seems hell bent on driving me insane until it is appeased.

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What the hell was the duck doing in there?

I have very detailed dreams. Vivid, intense dreams that sometimes parallel what's going on in my everyday life and sometimes come out of the fucking blue.

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A little diddle

The last guy that I had sex with was named after one of the Chipmunks.

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Gimme a Boob! Gimme a dick! Gimme it all!

I was thinking about something today. I really like dick. I like the shape of it, the smell of it, the juice that it produces.

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A Little Rambling Diatribe on Porn Stars

I was over at my friend Stacy's house this past weekend for UFC 66, otherwise known as the night that Liddell beat the crap out of my Tito and cost me a picture of my ass (shut up, you fucking hillbilly!) and something interesting occurred to me. As the room (divided about 60/40 men to women ratio) started to debate whether or not Jenna Jameson was going to be ringside, I found it amusing that not a single woman seemed offended at the idea of a porn star getting such massive attention. In fact, I think I've yet to meet a woman who doesn't like Jenna.

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You Can Keep Your Brotherly Love

I did a lot of movie watching this weekend. One of the flicks that I watched detailed a strange car crash and the circumstances that followed between two brothers and the surviving female from the crash. The story itself wasn't what caught my attention as much as the fact that the brothers had sex with the same woman. Both knew about it, the sex was going on at the same time and no one seemed to be bothered by it in the slightest.

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I Prefer Carpet Under My Feet and Not in My Face

[ Week of Brevity: Day Three, Take Two

Just to remind everyone, the challenge is this: A week of topics that I have a strong opinion on, limited to one paragraph (No more than 7 sentences). All of my responses to comments must be one sentence. ]

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The Kind of Facial You Just Can't Get From Mary Kay

[ Week of Brevity: Day Three

Just to remind everyone, the challenge is this: A week of topics that I have a strong opinion on, limited to one paragraph (No more than 7 sentences). All of my responses to comments must be one sentence. ]

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What I Learned About Sex By Walking in on My Parents

One time, when I was around 6 or 7 years old, I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard some strange sounds. Creeping out of my bedroom and going in search of where they were coming from, I discovered their location to be behind my parent's bedroom door. I quietly turned the knob and cracked the door open. My parents were in a tangle under the sheets. The sounds were coming from them.

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Not So Bright of an Afterglow

Now that the fucking is over, can I bring out my fight bell and give it a ring?

You - go to your corner. Me - this is my corner. Take a breather, get some water poured over my head by a doting assistant, perhaps smear some more Vaseline on... um... anyhow.

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And Now.... On With the Intercourse!

The point of fucking is to have an orgasm, right?

I've argued this concept many times, trying to explain that my orgasm shouldn't be the focal point of a sexual encounter, but with all of the headlines blaring from the covers of Cosmo, etc, men are really beginning to believe that sex isn't complete until the girl has gotten her cookies.

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The Blog About Condoms

I don't like 'em.

Strike that. I pretty much hate the fucking things. (Best pun EVA, by the way.)

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"My girl don't go for smokin' and liquor just make her flinch..."

I have penis envy.

Yup, as much as I enjoy my fun-to-play-with boobies and my intense female orgasms, there are days when I wish I could trade them in for a pee-pee.

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Let's Go Offroading!!

I grew up in a town highly populated by Hispanics and subsequently, Catholics. The mentality of most of the girls that I went to school with was that their virginity was supposed to be "saved" for marriage. Many of them belonged to "promise" groups where they would pledge to remain virgins until after their nuptials.

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And a One, And a Two, And a 3some...

Three's company. Three's a crowd. Buy three, get one free.

Oh, yeah. And the almighty threesome.

What is it with us as a nation that we need to over-consume? We buy huge amount of food from Costco, drive Hummers that get 3 miles to the gallon on the freeway and need American Idol to be aired more than one night a week. Gimmee, gimmee, gimmee. Just can't get enough.

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Do Not Defecate Where You Consume Nutrients

I have a friend who has made a big mistake. Because of his big mistake, I have taken to referring to him as "Shits Where He Eats." What exactly is this friend's big mistake that would earn him such a  nickname?

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I Agree With Salt n' Pepa: Sexy Noises Turn Me On Too

I am not a screamer.

Allow me to elaborate. I am not a screamer in bed. I don't know if it is tied into the fact that I am not an easy person to get to orgasm, that fact lending itself to my concentration and therefore my quiet disposition between the sheets, but I just don't make a lot of noise when I fuck.

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"It's sex with someone I love..."

According to Wikipedia,  the word masturbation is believed by many to derive from the Greek word mezea (µe?ea, "penises") and the Latin turbare ("to disturb").

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Can't We Just Skip to the Good Stuff?

Some time back, I wrote about men and the recent trend of boasting about their cunnilingus skills. I made mention that I was not a big fan of the act myself and could go without it. I've also mentioned on several occasions my love of the blowjob.

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Show Me Yours and I'll... Look at It

I once wrote about how I'm not a fan of cyber sex. Sure, with my grasp of language, I'm usually labeled an expert at it, but I just don't get off on the written word. At least not when I'm sitting at a computer screen and expected to reciprocate in a conversation while typing with one hand down my pants.

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She Said She Would Once We Were Married...

OK, new discussion topic.

I just heard for the third time in a week the fucking unthinkable. Three different male friends of mine have related various stories of how their significant others would not give them blow jobs. One even made the promise that she would, but only once they were married.

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They Asked You to Do WHAT?

Since we had so much fun with last week's discussion topic, I thought we could tackle a new one.

A couple of weekends ago, I was sitting around with friends, and Stephanie posed the old "Where's the craziest place you've ever had sex?" question. It's an oldie, and I think it's been overdone. So let's ask the more interesting question, one that puts the weirdness factor on someone else. That question is this:

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How Many is Too Many?

Very simple question: How many sexual partners is TOO many?

I actually count my numbers seperately, as in there is a number for those I've had intercourse with, a number for those I've gone down on, a number for those who've gone down on me.

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You Know You Can't Beat My BOB

At one point in my life, there was a story about Bob's Big Boy and the trouble that ensued after a failed attempt at his capture. As time went by, more was added to that story. My life seemed to be plagued by the existence of Bobs. It was a tad disturbing for a awhile, but I've learned to embrace the Bob in my life these days. He's not just a Bob. He's a BOB.

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"Cum Go With Me..."

Orgasms are such a bitch.

Sure, they can be one of the most intense pleasures that our bodies are capable of delivering, but the aftermath of the orgasm is a bitch. Even more so is the preceeding bullshit. All the - *ahem* - ins and outs in the quest of achieving the almighty orgasm. Almost makes me not want to bother. Almost.

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My USB Port Won't Fit Into Your Hard Drive!!

I've been around the block a few times. OK, OK, I've circled the motherfucker more than the cross-town bus. Point is, there is very little out there sexually that I haven't done. I have some limits, but for the most part, if it was suggested and I was curious, then I dove in head first. Very little of any of it bothered me, and even if I chose not to go that route more than the initial foray, I never felt sick or demented for wanting to try.

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