Sex. It drives us, makes us who we are. I write it and I have a lot of opinions about it. And about other things--everything from movies to politics to education. In fact, after several months absence I've come to realize that I am no sex-pert and that my opinions and passions are far too varied to limit myself to only sexual issues. So....since this is my blog, I figure I should be able to voice my opinions about whatever I please.
If that makes me a be it!

So read, comment, ask questions, rant and rave...but most of all enjoy and open your mind to possibilities!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Hair today....gone tomorrow....back the next day

This past weekend had its ups and downs. The ups included...
  • a great family pizza and movie night watching the latest PREDATORS movie which was, surprisingly good considering the genre.
  • the satisfaction of FINALLY getting out to Zumba class on a Saturday morning. Something that the universe has been conspiring to prevent me from doing for weeks.
  • a very fun date night with my sweetie, which included seeing the movie BURLESQUE (fun movie with lots of hot bods) followed by an evening of pool in which I gave my hubby a sound thrashing. That does not happen often...and I thoroughloy enjoyed the feeling.
The only downs were...
  • that my oldest, The Wizz, didn't come home from college for the weekend.
  • and finding another little bald spot on my scalp. It's right above my left ear, which makes it more visible than I like.
Did you eyebrows shoot up a bit? Well, yeah...mine, too. Although it isn't nearly as traumatic as it used to be. And this is what I want to talk about experience with Telogen Effluvium and Alopecia Areata.

It will be two years ago this coming January when very abruptly, and unexpectedly, I started to notice that I was losing copious amounts of hair. It felt like handfuls came out in the shower, and then while brushing out my hair. The sink was a nightmare of lost strands...and I immediately experienced a faint sense of panic. But surely it was an aberration. A one-time thing. Or merely my imagination! In a few days everything would be back to normal. Well, it wasn't. The sink continued to fill up and look like a rats nest from hell. I checked websites. How much hair loss is normal? They told me that up to 150 strands per day was considered "normal". So, just to be sure I wasn't crazy...I counted. Yes, people. That is exactly how obsessive I felt about this. I counted the hair that I shed during comb-out and came up with a shocking 350. Sometimes more.

Needless to say I saw my doctor. Only to be kindly dismissed and told this was "normal" and it would pass.

NORMAL? Were they insane? Surely they have no idea of the scope of this problem. So, when I finally discovered my first bald patch...about the size of an egg on the side of my head--and thankfully easily hidden--I called again. This time I got a slightly elevated level of concern, and a referral to a dermatologist--in 5 months. Up until that time there was nothing I could do...but wait and try to keep my sanity--and my ego--intact.

During those months I came the closest I have ever come to full-fledged depression. It was horrific. I couldn't get away from it! Everywhere I went the evidence continued to haunt me. Hair seemed to practically drip off me, and I was continually sweeping it up off the floor. I began to notice that my part was getting wider. I didn't want to go out. I cringed whenever anyone touched my head. And yes...I subscribed to female hairloss forums and websites. (It is far more common than we know) I was in the midst of checking into wig options when I came across the simple article that finally gave me hope.

This article informed me that my general hair loss was termed Telogen Effluvium, and that it afflicted up to 30% of the population at one time or another in their lives. It said that it usually resulted from some sort of physical or emotional trauma. Anything from childbirth, to a death in the family to a high fever. But that in up to 30% of cases--like mine--there was no discernible cause. What really comforted me was the simple knowledge that it usually lasts 4-6 months and that a sufferer can lose up to SEVENTY PER CENT of their hair! But that in 90% of all comes back.

The mechanics of it are simple. During this trauma or time of stress, the hair goes into a state of stasis. It simply stops growing for a time, and no new hair is generated. Suddenly, about 3 months later, everything kicks back into gear, and the hair loss that I was experiencing is actually due to the new hairs coming in underneath and pushing out all those old, dying follicles.

I was strangely uplifted. There was hope. Somehow my doctor's assurance that this was common came off as too dismissive and made me think she couldn't possibly understand the severity. This article acknowledged the severity...and yet gave me hope. I felt much better...and within less than a month after that the hair loss abruptly....stopped. I was down to shedding less than 15 hairs during and after my shower.

A month after that I started to notice all the fine new hairs coming in. There was a veritable fringe of it all the way around my head...and in the two bald spots that I had noticed. Life was good again. My ego was saved.

And then about 6 months later, as I was putting up my hair in a pony tail I noticed...ACK!....another bald spot. But...this couldn't BE! I thought it was all over! I hadn't noticed any excessive loss. What was going on?

But more reading revealed that this--Alopecia Areata--again, is a very common problem, and is probably one I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. In the last year I have had small bald spots appear...and fill and there. Every new one is a small trauma, and one that I watch closely for changes, but I'm heartened by the knowledge that it will be temporary...and according to my hairdresser it is far more common than we suspect. Many women have them and don't even realize it because they are hidden far beneath their tresses.

So, that is my story. It is one that I felt it important to share, because I think far too many women deal with this pain in silence and ignorance. Yes there are cases that result in permanent and very traumatic hair loss, but those are the exception rather than the rule. While it was happening I tried to comfort myself with the fact that this was a minor problem! I was experiencing no pain, and there was no threat to my health. The only threat was to my physical appearance, and even that could easily be fixed with falls or wigs or whatever. And yet none of this comforted me. A woman's self image and ego is tied up very closely with her hair, and some of the websites I visited described this trauma as being on a level almost equivalent to experiencing a death in the family.

So, be aware and take heart. If you, or someone you know, is experiencing or has ever experienced this phenomenon, chances are good that it will be transient, and life will return to normal soon. Talk about it. Read up on it. And feel free to speak to your doctor. There are treatments for those cases that become more serious, but hopefully it won't be necessary.

And try to are worth far more than what you spend on hair care products.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The three E's: errands, enigmas and education

I thoroughly enjoy taking the Enigma--my 15-year-old son--to his orthodontist appointment. Or taking him shopping for shoes. Or, like today, out to the accessory store to pick out a gift for the girl whose birthday party he's attending on the weekend. Not that I particularly like sitting in waiting rooms, or pawing through racks and racks of cheap jewelry--well okay, I do kinda like that--but the point isn't the errand or appointment much as the journey we must make to get there.

Because, invariably, these journeys involve long car rides together, with lots of empty minutes to fill as we both stare out across the asphalt that is whizzing beneath our tires. With all my sons I have found these trips to be some of the most fun and productive times for communicating and getting to know what's going on in their lives. Even more so with my at times closed, and often enigmatic, second born--ie. the Enigma.

Today we had barely gotten into the car when I heard, "So what do you wanna talk about?" My heart soared. But before we eased into the more personal topic of his friendships, frustrations and desires, we started with a slightly less personal topic--labour unions. And, surprisingly, that is what I want to talk about here today.

No, I'm not going to educate you on something I'm sure you all know about...the pros and cons of unions. Nor am I going to lament the reasons why I and many of my colleagues were heartbroken when a union vote went south at our hospital a few weeks ago...although I did talk to the Enigma about all that. What shocked me, however, about this encounter was the fact that when I mentioned the recent union vote to my son his first question was, "What's a union?"

I was, momentarily, taken aback. He'd never heard of a union? REALLY? Of course I don't begrudge for one moment the task of educating my son in matters of every day living. And I have done so repeatedly over the years. I vividly recall conversations with my children, explaining to them how a credit card works. What's the difference between a credit card and a debit card? What is a mortgage? What's the difference between that and a regular loan? Not to mention the discussions we've had about sex, sexual freedom and religion. It is my job as a parent to prepare my children for life as a responsible adult, but...isn't that also the job of the school system?

A few weeks ago I was quite chagrined to see a test that String Bean (third-born son who is 13 years old, 6 feet tall and all of 120 pounds) had brought home from literature class. He'd done very poorly on identifying all the literary devices that were illustrated in various passages. Literary devices that I, a published author, had trouble identifying. In fact, several of them, I had never heard of. At the time I was saddened to see that the school system is still bent and determined to dissect and analyze and generally suck all the life and enjoyment out of so much of literature, but question is....

How is it that the school system has all this time to teach kids about literary devices and historical facts that teach very little if anything in the way of critical thinking, and have little or no relevance to their every day lives...and yet they have no time to teach them simple, basic skills of living in our twenty-first century society?

Certainly theoretical math is an essential skill, but so is the mechanics of debt and loan. Credit cards and mortgages. Things like what you should look for when renting an apartment or buying a condo. What about insurance? What are the pros and cons of using an insurance agent, and what are the advantages of term vs. full life insurance? What does an employer expect from a good employee? And what are your rights as an employee according to the federal and provincial laws? What are all the deductions for on your pay stub? What are all the taxes for? What does it mean to belong to a labour union? What are the advantages and disadvantages?

Certainly history is important. We can't truly understand where we are until we know where we've come from. But what about teaching kids how to look at the world around them right now!? My kids should understand the basic reasons and the political context of the war in Afghanistan. The issues at work  in the Middle East. And NATO and European economies. This is current day, relevant information that is all but ignored in classrooms. And I would love to see our kids learn how to read and watch the media and understand what they're seeing.

These are basic life skills!!

My children are fortunate to have parents who take the time to discuss these things with them. Our children are free to see our pay stubs. They know what we earn and what we spend our money on. And we discuss things as they come up personally or in the news, but many many parents do NOT take the time to talk about these things. So you will often have kids graduating highschool who still don't know enough to check their pay stubs to make sure they're not getting ripped off. Or who have no idea what that "union dues" deduction is for. How our health care is paid for, and what our tax dollar gets us.

Well, okay...sometimes as an adult even I ask THAT question, but...perhaps you see my point.

In my opinion our school system is falling down on the job. Yes, they are teaching our children some valuable skills, but they're missing the boat on so many others. The thing that I've pinpointed this issue what do I do about it?? Perhaps a letter to my Member of Parliament and local school board is in order.

It wouldn't be the first time.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Strap-ons and White Nights

A few weeks ago I was in Toronto at a “girl’s night out” party with eight other, wild’n crazy women…in an ENORMOUS sports bar full of men. Umm…k…that fact may not be exactly relevant to this blog, but it was sure relevant to us! As it so happened my college-age son was at another party of his own in another section of Toronto. It was all spookily convenient, as I needed some company for my late-night drive home, and he wanted to attend the party, but still wanted to come home for part of the weekend. It all worked out beautifully.

So keeping that in mind that we were both in rather…uh…lubricated situations…at the midway point of the evening, I got the following text from my boy: “The guys here wanna know…if a guy likes taking it in the ass from a strap-on does that make him gay, str8, or what?

My first reaction was of incredulous hilarity…and of course I immediately shared his text with the class. lol
Our first reaction was looking for some clarification. i.e. who is wearing the strap-on? Is it a man or a woman? Of course a few minutes later we realized how ludicrous that statement was. I mean…why would a guy wear a strap-on? Right? Err…anyway… Our final response was basically that it didn’t matter. That being partial to anal play of any kind had no real bearing on the given person’s sexuality. He might be gay, might be straight, or might be bi. The strap-on thing wasn’t relevant.

But for me, that wasn’t really the point of the incident. The point was that my son was perfectly comfortable asking me that question…and he was comfortable doing so in front of his peers. For me…that was a coup! Of course it was a rather objective question…he wasn’t asking my advice on his own personal and intimate sex life…and I’m not sure I would ever expect that. However the fact that he was comfortable approaching me at all about such a thing, to me says that I have done my job well. That sex is not scary or taboo. It can be discussed openly and frankly, and with humour. And to me…that is a very healthy attitude.

For the record he told me later that one of the girls at his party declared her love for me.

I have that effect on people.

Just as an aside, the night of this party was also the night of Nuit Blanche aka White Nights in Toronto. It’s an outdoor festival of art and light that the city hosts every year…and it’s fascinating. One of these years I’ll actually take the time to experience it properly…instead of rushing past all the exhibits as I run to make the subway in time!

Monday, November 8, 2010

On Annie Hall and "praying away the gay"'re right. That's just weird. The two topics listed in the title of this blog entry are not, in any way related. At least…I don’t think so.

Then again…

Okay...if you tried really hard you could find a link in the pathetic one-line reference in the movie to the possibility of Annie Hall being a lesbian. I found it to be one of the few surprising, and somewhat provocative—even if somewhat irritating—moments in the movie, by the way. The only other really good line being, in my opinion, when Jeff Goldblum's character, at a typically pompous self-important LA party, laments to his therapist over the phone that, "I've forgotten my mantra." Now THAT’s funny! (hence the picture)  But...perhaps I'm digressing a bit.

jeff-goldblum-annie-hallWhere was I?

Oh yes…Annie Hall. As you may have guessed already, I did not exactly fall in love with this movie. Contrary to popular opinion, apparently, I am one of the approximate 10% minority who thinks this movie was a total waste of time. Now, I went into it with a good attitude. Really I did! I’ve seen Woody Allen’s Sleeper a couple of times, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I found it to be cute and quirky, and even a reasonable commentary on some of our attitudes toward sex (wouldn’t you love an orgasmatron in your living room?) and social classes, and I found Allen’s self-deprecating style to be a good match with Keaton’s portrayal of a ditzy, futuristic social-rebel wannabe.

I’d heard good things about Annie Hall, and fully expected to enjoy it. So, as is my habit when I’m working night shifts at the hospital, and find myself with a lot of time on my hands (time which, I admit, would be better spent writing, but I find it really hard to concentrate at 3 a.m.) I take some old movies and a portable DVD player to help pass the time. Usually this helps the night to fly by! This time, however, if anything, it made the shift seem hours longer than its usual 8 hours. If I hadn’t been desperate for entertainment and had nothing else to do, I probably would have shut it off by the halfway point. I did, however, manage to finish. Barely.

Annie_hallI just didn’t get it. No…I got the humour. I got the jokes, and I certainly got the fact that Allen finds himself to be incredibly witty, relevant and hilarious….the trouble is, I didn’t. I found his character to be mildly detestable! And the same goes for his girlfriend, Annie Hall. Keaton portrayed the same “lovable” ditzy character from Sleeper, all over again….except without the goofy, amusing plot to help it along. Allen’s character was a self-deprecating, morbid, self-important psycho-analyst’s dream, who found an insipid sounding board for his inane banter in the form of Annie Hall. There wasn’t even any particularly witty dialogue…most of it was one-sided….more like a monologue, performed for an audience of one…that audience being Annie Hall. As one other reviewer remarked, she was a culmination of every bad stereotype of air-headed women in relationships.

One of those stereotypes being her reference to giving up on relationships with men and turning to women. An old take on an older idea that women, in particular, are capable of—and prone to—changing their sexual orientation to suit their mood. I won’t even comment on the ludicrousness of that statement….other than to draw your attention to yet another illustration of this common—and ignorant—misconception.


Find the article here:  “Praying away the gay.”

Yes, there are still right-wing religious retards out there who are trying to “cure” homosexuals of those pesky, unwanted, send-me-to-hell-type god-given desires….all the while preaching tolerance for these poor misfits of the spiritual world. Does anybody else see the problem here? We love you…even though you are, by very nature, an abomination to God. Is it any wonder some of these poor souls are sucked into the church’s manic need for conformity…and control?

So let me put it bluntly.

Homosexuality is not a “disease.” It cannot be “cured” and certainly not by any means deemed “scientific” by any reasonably rational human being. If you truly are a person—or a Christian—who believes in tolerance and loving your neighbour, and letting God be the one to decide whether a person is worthy of his redemption…then I suggest you leave the gays THE FUCK ALONE!!

They won’t contaminate you with their gay-germs if they happen to be sitting beside you on the prayer bench. The won’t recruit or sodomize your children. And in all likelihood, they’re probably some of the most sincere, and honestly kind and generous people in your diocese…or parish…or whatever the hell label is in vogue for your little clique this month. Mind you why anyone would want to hang around with a bunch of people who look on you with disdain and pity because they’re convinced you’ll never qualify be their neighbours in their exclusive little Executive Condo in the sky…is beyond me. However, if they do seek solace and spiritual comfort in such a setting then they deserve to be treated with love and respect.

Leave the bedroom in the bedroom…and let God worry about who’s stickin’ what in where and into whom. Why do you care?

And frankly….why does He?

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Burqa bashing (aka the anti-PRIDE!)

Today on the way in to work I happened across a lovely young family. Well...the husband and children seemed healthy and happy, as to the woman however it was difficult to tell since all I could see were her eyes. She sported a very attractive and so much...burqua, while her husband and children were decked out in t-shirts, jeans and shorts. The weather today, by the way, topped out at over 40 degrees celsius with the humidex. I can scarcely imagine the sauna that woman experienced every time she walked outside.  However, her physical discomfort was the least of my reasons for becoming instantly upset.

When I walked in to work I shared my frustration with my colleagues, saying how just the sight of a woman in a burqa is enough to make my blood boil. I didn't feel I had to expand on my reasons, however when one young colleague commented, "What gives you the right to judge them? It's their culture," my defense mechanisms kicked in. My initial knee-jerk reaction was, that "I can judge them if I damn well please. And it being their "culture" is no justification nor excuse for such mysogyny." I said that the burqa is inherently mysogynistic, and, since I really prefer not to get into this kind of debate at work with someone that I really do like and respect...I left it at that.  And so did she.

However, that little exchange continued to nag at me. Arguments and justifications continued to ramble through my brain. Things I would have liked to have said. Things like:
"Is culture a valid reason for accepting female genital mutilation? For a woman having to spend her life peeing through a hole the approximate diameter of a toothpick?"
"Does culture give the Chinese license to abandon or kill their infant daughters because they really want a boy?
"Was culture a valid reason for apartheid in South Africa and the overt oppression and subjugation of the blacks?"
"Was culture a reason to accept slavery in the American south?"

And that's when it hit me. That is exactly the reason that culture is NO excuse to accept such injustices, and that's because SLAVERY is exactly what we're talking about here. Some may argue that these women are making a choice to follow their religion and its traditions. But whether that's true or not, the simple fact is that the vast majority of women are not free to make the alternate choice. Can a woman in Saudi Arabia decide on a particularly hot day that she would prefer to not wear the burqua? That she would like to go shopping without her husband for a change? Drive a car? Go to school? NO! The consequences of such a decision would be almost certain physical abuse and possible death.

How about that woman that I saw--here in Canada? Could she turn around and say to her husband that she has decided the burqa is no longer for her? That she would really like to wear a bikini to the beach tomorrow. She would likely not face execution, but I suspect the ramifications would be almost as dire, and she would certainly lose access to everything that she loves.

And what of the teenage girls in the United States, who tried to put some distance between themselves and their parents' traditions, by going out with their friends and behaving like the other teenagers that they knew? Who enjoyed spending time with boys and not wearing their burqa? Those girls that ended up strangled at the hands of the fathers who had raised and professed to love them?

This is no "choice". This is SLAVERY! There is no other word for it. Certainly there are cultures that live very strange and even somewhat annoying lifestyles. The Amish whose buggies tie up traffic on the roads in my region. The Mormons who still practice polygamy. Or the Jehovah's Witnesses who refuse to celebrate holidays like their neighbours. These are curiosities, certainly. And in some cases I would seriously question their choices, since they're not made on accurate information and education, but rather on a lack of information and blind faith. However, I will defend very vocally their right to make these choices, because they can walk AWAY from these situations at any time of their choosing. Because while some of them may face significant emotional consequences like alienation from beloved family members, I do not believe that any of them face bodily or mortal harm for such a decision. This is the crux of slavery.--enforced subjugation of one group by another, without recourse or means of escape.

And where else in the world do we tolerate slavery these days? Nowhere.

There are a scant few women in the world who choose to wear the burqa because this is truly an educated and well-informed choice. However, I believe such a choice is an affront and an insult to the THOUSANDS of women for whom the burqa is a souce and symbol of oppression and a license for physical abuse. To choose to wear it is akin to taking up a placard and declaring your allegiance to mysogyny and exploitation.

The burqa is tolerated under the guise of religious and cultural tolerance. But I would counter that to accept the burqa under the auspices of "cultural tolerance" is merely a mask for apathy, ignorance and indifference.

For any who are interested I would highly recommend reading INFIDEL by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. It is a provocative and moving account of one woman's battle against and eventual escape from the tyranny of the burqa. She now lives in hiding and in constand fear of her life in the USA.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Full of PRIDE

On Sunday July 4th (Happy Independence Day to all my American friends and fans!!) I attended the 30th Annual Toronto Gay Pride Parade! It was my second time to attend the mammoth event, but it is always surprising and full of eye-popping and heart warming images, some of which I'm sharing with you here today.

But first a few interesting statistics about Toronto Pride:
Toronto Pride is now the largest Gay Pride Parade in the world! This statistic being based on the number and variety of entries in the parade, parade route, length and number of attendees. This parade now attracts approximately 4 MILLION visitors and is just a small part of the enormous event that is Pride Week. There are concerts, family activities, vendors and other parades too numerous to mention.

What I find so exciting about the parade, and what stokes my own pride in my home country, is the sheer variety of entries. Not only are there gay clubs, AIDS hospices, and fetish fairs and stores represented, but EVERY major political party had a presence. There were several big name banks (Toronto Dominion being an enormous presence) and even the military takes part in the parade and also has a recruiting booth. The police are not only very busy and visible during pride week and in the parade, but their excitement and commitment to the project is displayed prominently by the rainbow buttons and beads that many of them choose to wear. And yes, as you will see, even many churches participate!

But the other thing that really strikes me about the parade and the week in general, is how free people are to be themselves. It is common place to see men or women holding hands or kissing each other affectionately on the street. To me, the crazy get-ups and eye-popping outfits, while they're all part and parcel of the theme of being yourself and being proud of it, come in a distant second to this simple display of freedom and acceptance. If only it could be so all year round.

And now...the pics:
The crowd along Yonge St. is just starting to build.

My "Pride Buddy" and me. In order to be sure to get a spot right at the barrier, we took our spot an hour ahead of the 2:00 start time. Even so, we had to jostle a bit to get in!

Rainbow coloured confetti is thrown from the roof tops.

Good Handy's provided the parade marshall for the day. Good Handy's is "Toronto's Pansexual Playground," and a spot that I'm not sure even I would brave to set foot in!

A lot of very short shorts along the parade route. As well as a lot of very HIGH boots!
A LOT of bare bums and harnesses.

Struck by the variety of body types that flaunted their stuff without any sign of self consciousness. That's what Pride is all about, after all.
The "Fag Bug". Visit and see what it's all about.

Some really amazing gowns. Not sure I'd wear them to the Christmas party but still....

The Totally Naked Toronto (TNT) men were a presence.
Not a traditional uniform, and I'm sure the majority of police are grateful.
Just a couple guys holding hands.
This costume was made entirely of plastic packing material. I can only imagine how hot it was.
Humidex hit 40C today.
It's that alien chick (well in this case that isn't exactly accurate-can you see the dangly bits?) from Empire Strikes Back!
I have no idea what the significance of the bubble was.
A variety of fruit were represented.
More guys holding hands. A lot of funky wigs, as well.
Just a really cool costume.
Just some really hot guys.
Yes, there were a number of children in the parade.
The clergy shared space with....
the kinky.
This was a new fetish for me. Gas masks that control air flow.
Throughout the parade there were these signs denoting various moments in Gay Pride history.
The Trojan Guys.

So, all in all a good time! Albeit a tad long. Longest parade in history, clocking in at a whopping THREE-AND-A-HALF hours! We didn't stick it out quite to the end. I think that's a lot to ask of anyone standing in one place. lol

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Sexy quote of the week - June 27

Sex between a man and a woman can be absolutely wonderful - provided you get between the right man and the right woman. ~Woody Allen

Thursday, June 24, 2010

The breast defense!

It's well...a good pair of breasts, apparently! Actually they don't even have to be "good". They just have to be bared for the world to see. It's amazing what one can accomplish with a pair of bare nipples and a hearty dose of chutspah! As is evidenced by this story from a Toronto news service: Bare Breasts vs. Neighbour's ATV.

In a nutshell a Kingston area (Southern Ontario) woman got so fed up with the noise incurred by the ENDLESS hours that her neighbours' five-year-old grandson spent driving his ATV up and down her quiet suburban street....that she took matters into her own bra...and walked out her front door topless. The grandparents were so horrified by the vision of a pair of bare areolas that they immediately hauled their grandson inside out of sight of the lethal apparatus. Lest his childhood innocence be marred and forever lost in the face of such visual brutality. If you think I sound a tad unsympathetic to the grandparents'd be absolutely right. Having dealt with inconsiderate, noisy, pot-smoking, muscle-car-engine-revving-at-2 a.m. neighbours in the past I am in total sympathy with the woman's plight. In fact if I had thought walking outside with my shirt off would have saved me the $700 it cost to get a survey that forced our neighbour to move his fence back onto his OWN property...I most certainly would have done so! Unfortunately I don't think that would have addressed the problem, however I have to applaude the woman for her creative problem-solving! And goddamnit....I'm so glad to live in a country where bare boobs are a protected human right!

Now there is one very telling aspect to this line that bothers me and that really sums up the problem with the entire situation. It's a quote from the police officer who was called to the scene. And I quote: "It isn't right to go around topless in front of kids." And that brings to mind the question...Why??

What is it about breasts that is so damaging to young minds? Now, I confess....I am hesitant to go topless in front of my teenage boys. However, in my defense I only discovered a more...enlightened  sense of sexuality and the confidence to go topless ANYWHERE in the last 6-7 years. Previous to that I was quite repressed and busily working through my own sexual issues. So to suddenly expose my boys to seeing their mother's breasts now after so many years of maternal modesty...and especially as teenagers....does seem a tad over the top. Even for me. HOWEVER...over the last number of years, during our countless hours of movie-watching as a family I have rigorously enforced my view that there is nothing wrong with the female form and that just seeing a pair of breasts is no threat to their moral fiber. Basically that means that any bare breasts that flash across the screen are free to do so unhindered....and without comment from me. It is part of life and, more importantly, part of being human. Same goes for shots of bare asses of both the male or female persuasion. And even the far-too-rare full-frontal penis-shot. I refuse to cringe at my children's being exposed to evidence that there are other men out there with penises...just like theirs.

What is it about breasts (and penises, btw) that makes them so threatening? I would propose that it is the very fact that they are hidden. The sense of forbiddenness merely adds to their mystery and the titillation potential is enhanced. Was it not barely a hundred years ago that sight of a woman's ankle was cause for gasps and hauling out the epsom salts? Let alone the moral downfall of respectable man?

Strange how as the skirts got shorter, the ankles, knees and even thighs somehow lost their ability to corrupt. I would propose the same to be true of breasts. Strike that. Nipples, as in reality (and as I've discussed before) that is really what the controversy boils down to.  I would contend that the sight of a bare nipple is not enough to send anyone to a life of moral depravity (what does that mean, btw??) and crime. And that teaching our children to be considerate of others is a far more important lesson than teaching them how to cover their eyes when a woman loses her bikini top in the surf. And I deeply believe that the younger we start teaching children that lesson--along with the lesson that there is nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to the human body--the better.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

By the bi....part deux

I'd like to introduce, Brian. Brian is a reader and fan who found me through my stories and very kindly offered to share some of his experiences as an exploring bisexual male.

Brian, you've told me that you began the exploration of your bisexuality later in life. How old were you when you had your first experience with a man?
I began to tentatively explore my desires for men in my early twenties. While still in university, I visited men's steam baths several times. Inexperienced, I was approached by men, but it did not go any further than being manually fondled. It was not until years later, in my early 30's did I have my first complete sexual experience with a man, again at a steam bath.
Although this encounter took place over 20 years ago, I recall it like it happened yesterday. I awoke very early on a hot, sultry summer morning. I became aware of my raging hard-on that was aching for attention. I felt the hard shaft and the hunger within. I knew that this was a need that could not be satisfied by a pussy. It was if my cock had a mind of it's own and I was following it's agenda. It was time and I was ready. I slipped on a tight, black spandex G-string, which barely contained my growing lust and left my apartment.
I arrived downtown, shortly, and entered the steam bath. The sign said "Men Only" and remember my cock twitched delightfully. I got a room and towel and stripped down. I felt very sexual, alive and was very much a man on a mission. I knew what I wanted and I was here to get it.
I finally saw him. He was older, probably 10-15 years my senior, about my height with a slim body and I wanted him. I just knew he was a man that would meet my needs and I confidently ushered him into my room. I do not remember what I said, if anything. Certainly little was said as words were not required. My confidence and direct attitude I believed conveyed to him my desires. He was responding to my masculinity. We were on the same wavelength and nature was taking it's inevitable course. I pulled the towel that he was wearing around his waist and pushed him onto my bed where I caressed his nipples with my hands. The blood rushed into my cock giving me a hard, strong erection. I used my hand to spread his legs as I prepared to enter my first man. I slid into him easily, like a hot knife into butter, and beautifully.  As I gently, but firmly pushed into him I felt him open up to me, an incredible feeling of his desire to please me and give me what I wanted. The the full length of my engorged cock was now buried inside of him and I began to fuck him slowly and rhythmically. I was just seconds away from what was to be the most intense and satisfying orgasm I had experienced. I wanted to savour the moment, commit it to memory where it would be burned into my brain. I exploded into him filling him with every drop of semen that my body had produced. I never felt so sexual, so masculine so potent. I had penetrated a man and planted my seed in him. Mating with him was not only sexually very satisfying, but also psychologically fulfilling. I felt complete and believed I was on the path to realizing my full potential as a man.

Initially, I cannot recall when I develped an interest/attraction to male"s. I think it had to do with wanting to express my masculinity and sexuality without the social contraints/requirements of meeting, dating and so on. I think the catalyst was experiencing my sexuality on a animalistic level. I see, I want, I take approach.
My first full sexual experience was fuelled by pure lust. I wanted to have a man underneath me, penetrate him and plant my seed inside of him. The experience was incredibly intense and fulfilling. Mating with a man was for me the ultimate act in expressing my masculinity and sexuality.

Do you still enjoy women as much as ever, or have your experiences with men affected those desires at all?
Yes, I adore women and love to please them. If anything my experiences with men have made me a more passionate, sensual lover. I believe all our sexual experiences make us the person/lover that we are. Any positive sexual experience is enhancing and affirming. I do, however, have needs that only a man can satisfy. 

Have you experienced a threesome with a male/female couple yet? If so, was it a positive experience? What did you like about it? Dislike?
I have been in a threesome two times with a m/f couple. Absolutely it was positive experience. The first time, it was at a swingers club in Boca Raton, Florida, many years ago. I saw a mature, older, tall, slender and busty woman accompanied by a much older gentleman. In the whirlpool I approached her directly and introduced myself. She put me off by saying something like maybe I could see her later. I don't recall exactly what or how she rebuffed me. I went to lie down in the sun and within minutes her husband asked me if I wanted to join them. I was not interested in him, but I was aching for her. He massaged her breasts, while I worked on her pussy, exploring her with my fingers. After some time, she said she needed a break and they left. She did come back and as my hand slipped into her I felt a wetness I have never experienced before. It was like she was melting inside from the raging desire in her pussy.

 No regrets, if I was not going to have her, it would not be for not trying. It was a real turn-on her coming for me and massaging her with her husband. Her leaving to consider if she wanted to proceed and then coming back confirming her interest really aroused me. The tease factor, having to wait and the realization that my patience paid off when she laid down again and she opened up to me completely. I loved fucking her while her husband watched.

My second experience was  about 5 years or so ago in Toronto. I had answered an ad in a swinger's magazine from a dominant bisexual, mature couple. They were from out of town and we met at a hotel in downtown Toronto. After going down on the woman briefly, her husband took me away from her and began to passionately suck me. I responded strongly to his mouth and was hard for him. His wife took over for a short time only. I did not say anything, but preferred her husband's attentions. I came very close to climaxing for him, but I could not get over the edge. It is often difficult the first time with someone new. I spent some time passionately kissing his wife which I enjoyed very much.
As I was relaxing on my stomach, without a word, her husband lay on top of me and knowing what he desired, I opened my self for him. He pushed his cock-head into me, but being very tight and inexperienced (and without the benefit of preparation and lubrication) I was unable to receive his shaft. I do remember his wife lying beside us and whispering to me, "he's the best." Reflecting on that and his desire to penetrate me is very exciting. This is what I am currently seeking/craving to experience. This encounter clarified for me my deepest desires. Unlike the previous threesome, most of the interaction was with the man. To-day I am only interested in couples where the man is bisexual and an alpha male only, not a switch.

Do you feel comfortable "coming out" with these tendencies to more "vanilla" friends and family? If not, what are the attitudes that discourage you from doing so?
I have no desire to come out, as it were, to family or friends etc. Being bisexual to me is about desires and is not akin to pretending to be straight when one is gay. I am true to who I am, and that is what is important.
When I was in my 30's I had a sexual relationship with a woman. I revealed to her my bisexual desires. She was very supportive. She did not feel threatened or insecure about my needs for men. She encouraged me and asked about my adventures. She did not ask to be included or watch, nor did I offer this to her. Looking back her approval was very important to my evolving sexually. If she had been negative in her reaction, I am sure this would have had some negative impact on me.

What if you found yourself in a satisfying triad-style relationship with a man and a woman...would this be a long-term commitment that you would consider making?
Nikki, as you know I have been approached by a woman to serve her husband and her sexually. We have exchanged some information, pictures and discussed our desires. We seem well-matched and I believe there is a potential for chemistry. We need to meet to see if there and progress from there. My heartfelt desire is to serve a mature, confident couple who are libidinous, passionate, sensual and clear about their desires/needs. It takes some time and effort to create/achieve this type of dynamic. I would not use the word commitment, but an ongoing/evolving situation.
Her husband is an ALPHA MALE who she wants to see pleasured by another man. This is what I have been craving now for some time. To experience a man's passion, potency and virility. I would hope that this would be ongoing, so we could continue to explore our sexual desires. I have needs beyond orally servicing a man. I want to experience real intimacy and male bonding. I think it is natural over time as people become more comfortable with each other that inhibitions are shed opening the door to unexplored desires.

I want to be pursued by a married ALPHA MALE, with his wife's blessing, to be seduced and bedded by him. I want to be lusted after by him and to be desired by him. To know that he is aching and dripping to get into me would boil my brain.

Thank you so much, Brian, for these insightful and compelling answers! It is fascinating to me to have a glimpse into the experiences of a man who is, in a very real way, living some of the stories that I have been writing. Thank you for sharing.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

In the cut

I am the proud mother of three boys. Actually...judging from the results of our measuring session this morning and the fact that our 13-year-old has now slightly surpassed his older brother and is now pushing the six-foot envelope...I am the mother to three young MEN!  And as they approach official manhood and have to face all the challenges that such a status entails, I am once again grateful for the decision that my hubby and I made upon their birth.

I am speaking of the controversial question: To cut or not to cut?

For us the question was a relatively simple one. Not only was my husband circumcized, so there was the factor of not wanting the boys to look "different" from the dad. But also, thanks to my work at the hospital which had shown me that there was a startling number of full grown men coming through for circumcisions later in life, I just felt that good routine hygiene notwithstanding,  it was the safer option and would just mean that my boys had one less HEADache to worry about. (Head. Get it? You smirked. Admit it.) So, at the time--more than 18 years ago now since our first was born--the decision was based more on simple practicality than on esthetics. And certainly the notion of social pressure and sexuality never entered into it. I mean who thinks about their 6 pound, 4-day-old son eventually facing the scrutinizing stare of a potential sexual partner!?

But now...considering what I know of the sexual socialization of our North American society, I am doubly grateful that my boys will not be faced with the label of being "uncut." I know that the sexual experts would likely disagree. They would say that medically there is no reason for the procedure. That it is unnatural. That it causes a decrease of sensitivity, and is an antiquated custom. This is all true, I am sure. With modern hygiene customs there is no reason that an uncircumcized man can't be as well-groomed, clean and attractive as his counterpart.  However, the simple truth seems to be that public perception is different.

A few months back I overheard a conversation between a couple of women whom I work with. These two women are mothers of young sons. They were arguing with another young woman who is of dating age, and who was trying to explain to them why she vastly preferred to date circumcized men--and that she was not alone in this attitude. But these women who had chosen not to circumcize their boys were having a hard time accepting her arguments.

I joined the discussion and reinforced what the younger woman was saying. She is not alone in these attitudes. I know of many single women who have told me that they are very hesitant to be with an uncut man. They tell me that they've had bad experiences in the past. That yeast infections seem to follow such encounters, and that too many uncut men do not seem to have the knack of keeping themselves properly groomed. There is also the simple factor of esthetics. Right or wrong, we've become accustomed to the sight of the circumcized penis, and deviations from that "norm" may cause some hesitation in potential partners.

So, whether this convention is right or wrong is not the issue. Should we take strides to change it? Personally...considering my experience with medical issues like infections and unretracted foreskins, I'm not convinced that it is medically unwarranted. If I felt that it was harmful in some way, either medically or to men's self esteem--such as the attitudes towards women and their weight, then I would feel very differently. However, I don't. I think it's a procedure that, while not exactly necessary, has numerous benefits, and parents should consider it as such.

Many years ago my sister-in-law had a son and was planning on circumcizing him, but a meddling and opinionated doctor accused her of wanting to "mutilate" her child and eventually talked her out of it. She regretted that decision numerous times in the years since, but of course later in life the decision becomes much more daunting. Frankly I think that doctor should have to endure a Jewish bris sans anesthetic for using such strong-arm tactics!

The choice should be made by loving parents who have their child's best interests at heart and have all the information they need to make an educated decision. And social convention is not a factor to be dismissed out of hand. Just ask any teenage boy who is dropping his drawers in front of a girl for the first time!

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Familiarity breeds...comfort.

Last night I came to bed very late. After working a busy 3-11 evening shift I always take a little time to wind down, read a few e-mails, play some Bejewelled and, of course, have a small bowl of my favorite cereal. (Cereal is my all-time favorite comfort food. With a dash of nice cold milk...and maybe some fresh peaches.... Mmmmm....) Anyway...I digress...

Needless to say it was close to one o'clock by the time I got all that essential stuff done and managed to crawl into bed beside my softly snoring honey. He was lying on his left side, and since I always sleep on the right side of the bed (This dates back to our first apartment when the right side of the bed was closest to the washroom. Somehow washroomn positions changed, but my spot on the bed never did. In fact...come to think of every place we've had since I've been farthest from the bathroom! Hmmm...) Anyway...I digress...

Since I always sleep on the left side of the bed and he always insists that I am to snuggle up to him when I come to bed, even if it risks waking him, I did just that. The thing was, just as I was snuggling up, I realized I needed to take off my earrings and turned over to lay them on the bedside table. When I turned back to the honey...I had to chuckle because his right arm was hovering in the air.  Why? you may ask? Because he had sensed me get into bed and had raised his arm in anticipation of my arm slipping under his in our usual, and very familiar, spoony position. I finally snuggled into position with my arm around his waist, his arm draped over mine and our fingers entwined... and I don't think he ever quite woke up.

I love that position. Whether it's my front to his back or vice versa, with his arm wrapped so strong around my waist, there is no better way to snuggle down under the covers and feel safe and warm and completely comfortable and at ease.

There are a lot of things in my life that are routine, predictable and, yes, very comfortable. Things like pizza and movie night with the boys on Fridays. Sitting down to dinner at 6:30, the moment Dad gets home from work. Cereal for breakfast. And sex with the same man for the past 22 years.

Sure things get changed up every once in a while. Variables occasionally come into play...things like vacations, work schedules, bacon and handcuffs. These things are good for variety and to add spice, but in a way they also help us to appreciate the return to the comfortable--the familiar.

There's nothing wrong with having dinner with your family at the same time most nights. And there's nothing wrong with sex with your lover becoming a tad routine. A tad...familiar. Familiarity doesn't necessarily equate with boring. Familiar can also mean that you know what you're doing. You know what works and what doesn't. When your partner's mood is not conducive to long foreplay...and when it is. When to skip the usual oral and go directly to fucking! It's like a waltz...a series of steps and moves, dips and swings, that you've learned so well together over the years that it becomes second nature. And there is nothing wrong with that.

I've never really understood the old "familiarity breeds contempt" addage. It only breeds contempt if you're living in misery, if you don't like your partner in the first place. If you've picked the wrong music and don't know how to waltz.

I love to get down and boogie just as much as the next gal...but the waltz is definitely more enduring and more elegant...and I plan to keep doing it for many more years to come.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Great Expectations

Over the past few days I've had a lot of conversations about labels. There are so many kinds of labels. There's the washing instructions that tell me not to dryclean my clothes. (Silly people. As if I needed to be TOLD not to waste my money). Then there's the label on my pillow that is illegal to remove. (Can you hear the RRRRIIIIPPPing sound as I take those instructions to heart?). Then there's those cruel sizing labels on my jeans. Labels that try to convince me my waist has expanded, when I KNOW that to be a lie. There are warning and instruction labels. All of which provide us with essential, valuable information.  But no...none of these are the labels that my conversations have revolved around.

It all started with an acquaintance at work very earnestly asking my opinion on some relationship labels. Seeing someone vs. dating someone. Friendship with benefits vs. buddies... or even "Fuck buddies." Despite the fact that I have been out of the dating circuit for...well...actually I never really WAS in the dating circuit, she was adamant that I'm one "in the know" and I should have some ideas on the subject. Never one to NOT have ideas, I had to concur with that evaluation...and I shared my thoughts with her...such as they were.

Actually, the definitions that we came up with aren't really all that important. But what I did find fascinating was the realization that what these labels are....the function they really all about another nasty word: EXPECTATIONS.  Good or not...positive or not...each of these labels conjures up a set of expectations for each of the parties involved. Everything from how many times a week do I call or text this person? To how many times a week do we fuck? To whether or not you're allowed to "see" or "date" other people. The trick, of course, is to make sure that these sets of expectations match. That one person's definition of "dating" and all it entails is essentialy the same as their partner's definition. Because if those two definitions differ, hence the expectations differ, you're in for a shit load of trouble.

So, in this way, labels can be a very dangerous thing. I mean who among us wants to get tagged with labels like "nerd" or "blonde" or "slut." Labels tend to lead to assumptions about people and we like to attach all the characteristics that go along with a particular label to the person or, of course, relationship, in question.  and assumptions are almost always a bad idea. In relationships, more so than any other facet of life, communication and clarity of expectations is paramount for any relationship to continue successfully.

Now I had a friend at one time who was very big on keeping our friendship casual. He wanted a friendship with, and I quote, "No expectations." I basically told him that this notion was BULLSHIT. There is no such thing as a friendship or any relationship for that matter, with NO expectations. Even the idea of having no an expectation!  Whether it's the expectation that you call that person all the time or that you never call them... Whether it's the expectation that you get together for coffee once a month, or the simple expectation that you pick up the phone when the other person calls....  Insignificant or not, each of these are expectations. And when expectations are not met it always, always leads to conflict, often heartache. And possibly the use of automatic weapons. Essentially, a relationship without not a relationship.

So, having said that I would put it to you that labels, while generally unavoidable and somewhat dangerous, are also a necessary evil, and perhaps we should see them as a good starting point. Personally, I'm in favour of taking on my labels and, rather than denying the images that they illicit...working towards changing them.

Think of the word "gay" for example. Thirty years ago that word brought up very different images and reactions than it does today. At least for a significant portion of the population. It took a lot of work on the part of the gay community to change that, and I'm really not sure that simply avoiding the use of the term i.e. the label, would have gotten them there any sooner. What abour words like Muslim, atheist, bisexual, submissive, masochistic. How about fuck vs. sex vs. making love? Sodomy vs. anal sex? The list of labels, and the list of characteristics and perceptions that we attach to these labels is endless.

I guess my ultimate point is to use labels cautiously, always be clear on what that label means, be open to new ideas and new definitions, and always, always be clear on the expectations that go along with them.

Relevant or not, I just have to end with this line that I heard in a movie this week:
Why do women fake orgasms?
Because men fake foreplay.

Maybe they should've defined foreplay a little more clearly!!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

By the Bi...

In honour of the impending release of my new M/M/F story, Triple Knot, I thought it was a good time to look a little more deeply into the male bisexual experience. An acquaintance of mine was kind enough to agree to answer some....basic questions about his personal experiences with his sexual orientation.

Meet Paul....a 40-something year old male who has, taken what the world has to offer and lapped it up. Sometimes...literally! If this interview sparks any comments, or further questions...please don't hesitate to ask. Paul is quite open to continuing the dialogue.
(Warning: Some answers are quite graphic. Rather like something you'd find in an erotica novel. ;-)

Here goes....

1. Paul, did you always know you were attracted to men as well as women? If not, how old were you when you first came to the realization that you were attracted to men?

My case is special: When I was barely 12, I began having erections. And, um, they were big. No, I'm not bragging. I'm a true 8". But on a 12-year-old, an 8" erection is HUGE . And the 2nd or 3rd time I had one - still being a child - I did what all children do with something new: I put it in my mouth. Now don't ask me why I did that (why does any kid put anything in his mouth??), I just did. And about 10 seconds later I discovered something else new: ejaculation. Right down my throat. It tasted funny but it felt great!! --Wow! Seriously?? I gotta wonder how many men enough to be able to do this! I think I feel a poll question coming on! This is truly fascinating.

At the time, I didn't even realize that would be considered "sex" because I had no clue what sex was. I just knew it felt great when I did it. So I did it a lot. I didn't tell anyone, not because I was ashamed, or knew it was wrong, but because it felt so good. Anything else I did that was fun, someone - parents, teacher, babysitter - would tell me to stop. I was afraid someone would tell me to stop putting my cock in my mouth. --Yeah...isn't that the way? Everything fun is bad. This question has come up on this blog before. The idea that denying yourself pleasure makes a person somehow more responsible. Righteous. Holy even. It is a huge issue that gnaws ag me...and bears a lot more dialogue than I have time for here.

Before anyone explained what sex was to me, I remember being fascinated with crotches. Girl's crotches in tight jeans (very in style then). Then I noticed that when boys wore tight jeans, their crotches looked different. In an interesting way. I knew, in a vague kind of way, that all boys had penises, and that girls didn't. But I didn't understand why other boy's penises looked so small compared to mine. I also knew, in a similarly vague way, that you put your penis in a girl - but I couldn't figure out where you put it. In her belly button? If so, could you put it in a boy's belly button too? And why would you do such a thing anyway? So many questions.... mom told me about sex but she told me that the man "went to the bathroom" inside the woman's vagina. Put me off the whole idea for YEARS! Gotta wonder which is worse...NO information? Or semi-neurotic misinformation?

Now here's the thing: I was putting my cock in my mouth 2 or 3 times a day. Why not? But it simply never occurred to me that you could put another guy's cock in your mouth too. Why would it? I also simply didn't realize that not every guy could put his cock in his mouth. I assumed all guys could. Again, why would I think otherwise? And if you could, well, why the hell wouldn't you?? So the first time I heard other boys (13 years old?) talk about "cocksucking" derisively, I thought "what the hell is wrong with them - cocksucking is fun!!" How could anything that felt so good be wrong?? But since they all seemed to think it was the worst thing a guy could do, I kept my pleasures to myself. But I started to think that maybe I could show them how much fun it really was... And so I began to think about sucking other boys' cocks - all in the name of teaching them, you understand. I think at the time, I thought that it would feel just as good as sucking your own... ('s a question for future reference...Who is generally better at giving men oral? Men or women?)

2. Once you came to the realization, did you experience any hesitation or fear over acting on these desires? And if so, why? And was there a specific event or catalyst that caused you to overcome your hesitations and take that first step?

Of course - as described above, guys seemed to think cocksucking was dirty and disgusting. So for all that I imagined showing them how much fun it was, it didn't happen until I was much, much older (and had a whole different understanding). Yeah...strange how cock-sucking by a female is all sweetness and light, but switch genders and suddenly the very fabric of society is threatened.

Was there a specific event or catalyst that finally caused it to happen? If there was, it was just the last of my own inhibitions falling away. That, and an incredible first experience that guaranteed there'd be more.

3. Do you still enjoy women as much as ever, or have your experiences with men affected those desires at all?

Absolutely! Sex with a woman is entirely different than sex with another guy - at least to me. For me, there's almost always some emotional tenderness with a woman, and almost never with a guy. Almost.

If anything, having sex with guys has taught me a lot about having sex with women. Just noticing the differences gives you the ability to exploit them for your partner's pleasure.

4. Have you experienced a threesome with a male/female couple yet? If so, was it a positive experience? What did you like about it? Anything you disliked?

Yes, and it was great, every single time it happened. I'll never forget the first time I saw the look on a girl's face as I made her husband cry in pleasure as he came again and again from the firm-but-gentle butt-fucking I was giving him. She knew that I was giving him something she never could, and she was ecstatic and terrified all at once. I stopped, went to the bathroom and noisely cleaned myself. When I went back in, she was kneeling beside him asking him if he was OK, to which he was whimpering "Oh, yes, oh, God, yes" She then wanted to suck me, but I gently pushed her to one side and made her husband suck my cock right in front of her face. Once again, her eyes went wide as she watched how eagerly he slurped on me. Then I lifted her onto the bed right beside him and eased my wet cock into her. I held her close in my arms and thanked her for letting me bust her husband's cherry.
 A few minutes after that, some careful poking at her G-spot had the desired effect, and she came very hard, holding on to me. Then I got out and told her husband to get in. I got on the floor between their legs, and after a few minutes of him stroking her, I leaned in and licked his balls. He came with a scream, and so did she. Then, as they lay in each other's arms, I lay down beside them and told them how much I enjoyed making both of them cum. As the husband went to clean up, I told her that she shouldn't be afraid of him enjoying it, and that just because I had sex with other guys didn't mean I didn't enjoy sex with women too - including her, as I'd just demonstrated. She smiled and said that she understood better now. They invited me back many times.
--Well, this answer pretty much speaks for itself! Might've come right out of one of my books. Are you sure it didn't? lol

5. Do you feel comfortable "coming out" with these tendencies to more "vanilla" friends and family? If not, what are the attitudes that discourage you from doing so?

I never did tell anyone in my family, and only a couple of my vanilla friends. People just can't understand that "bisexual" isn't the same as "gay" (and that "gay" doesn't always mean "flaming pink cross-dressing femme queer with lisp") For reasons that completely elude me, they think that if you like sucking cock, that's all you like.
--Exactly. And sad though it may be...this is a huge part of the reason I write these novels and this blog. Aside from the sheer joy of writing them...and yeah, ok...the royalties are nice, too...I truly hope that I'm doing my small part in raising awareness and hopefully tolerance and acceptance of the bisexual male's situation and lifestyle. Each time a reader gets to know these they become real and personal...they become less alien and more familiar. It's much harder to hate something you understand.

6. What if you found yourself in a satisfying triad-style relationship with a man and a woman...would this be a long-term commitment that you would consider making?
Sure; why not? Relationships are about how well your personality matches anothers', not their gender. Unfortunately there are FAR too many people who would disagree with you there. But maybe, eventually, we can change their minds on that point.

Thank you, Paul,) for answering my questions so honestly and candidly. I hope I can call upon you if any new and intriguing questions come up--either from myself or my readers. But for now, thanks for this fascinating glimpse into your world and your experience!

Thursday, May 13, 2010


I'm baaaack! Edits for my next novel are done and I have a June 11th release date. YAY!!  In honor of that I plan to start a contest within the next week or so that will allow a couple of lucky winners to get their own free digital copy, as well as a couple of print books of their choice. But more on that later. Now on to the sex.....

When I was seventeen I got a job at a local insurance company. Other than the fact that I saw dollar signs swirling around my head when I found out I would be making two dollars above minimum wage, I don't remember a whole lot about it. The little bit I do remember revolves around long afternoons spent flipping through life insurance policies that had been cashed in. Er...claimed? Er...whatever you choose to call it, these people had died and their family was looking to collect the benefits that they'd signed up for. Now, why they had a wet-behind-the-ears teenager perusing through death certificates and confidential financial information is beyond me. I'm thinking I was looking for something specific, but I no longer remember what that was. What I do remember is reading about my first acount of Auto-erotic Asphyxiation.

In fact, I remember it vividly. In the account of his death I read how he had been alone in his home one night, and his wife (I think) had come home to find him in the basement--rope around his neck, hanging from the ceiling. Ass just a few inches above the ground and legs stretched out before him, naked from the waist down...and with a layer of toilet paper laid out beneath him. Toilet paper that was, at that point of course, soiled with...a variety of bodily excretions.

Now I read this and was, to say the least, puzzled. Not to mention grodied-out to the MAX! (It was the 80's) And then I went to my supervisor and asked her what the fuck this was about? Well, maybe I didn't say it quite like that, but it was at that point that I had my first lesson in the pros--an cons--of auto-erotic asphyxiation.

I later remember reading a Michael Crichton novel in which AeA was featured prominently as part of a murder mystery plot. And since then I've heard of it off and on in the media. David Carradine and Michael Hutchence of INXS are two prime examples of "suspicious" deaths that just reeked of  AeA gone horribly wrong. I don't know if AeA was ever ruled as an official cause of death in those cases....I mean what family is going to want that permanently tacked to their loved one's record? But then it really so horrific? Stupid perhaps.It's not suicidal, nor is it intended as a harmful, destructive, or even self-destructive habit.

At least that's what this ARTICLE that I came across yesterday finally pointed out for me. It's one of the most informative and non-judgmental pieces on the subject that I've ever read. Not that I've read many. Well...okay...I've never really read anything else on the subject. But I've often wondered about it, and this does a very good job of filling in the blanks.

Contrary to what many believe,  AeA is not about  masochism or seeking pain. It's about seeking heightened pleasure. And as this article so vividly points it does a very fine job of heightening that pleasure. Not that the means of it isn't disturbing. Especially when we start talking about school yard choking games. That is something I hadn't heard of before, and frankly I wish I hadn't heard of now. AeA and the addiction to it is certainly not a healthy past time, but it is certainly much less mysterious to me now than it was. And learning more about it, and educating our children about the very REAL hazards of pursuing it can only have a positive effect. Unfortunately, knowing the risks didn't help the subject of this article, who was already so addicted that he was past help. But perhaps it can play a part in preventing people from taking that first experimental step down that road.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Short hiatus

Just wanted to apologize for my absence of late, and explain that it'll be a few more days until I get back into the "swing" of things here! I'm working on the edits for my next release, and really need to concentrate on that for now.

But don't worry.... I am working on some interesting stories in the mean time.

More to come on that later.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Ass-Backwards-Barbie!

I have heard--and seen--some strange and wonderful things in my life, and truly...there is little that can surprise me anymore. However, last night I heard something that, if nothing else, gave me a good chuckle. A friend steered me toward the tale of the hapless Southerner who needed to have a rather...eclectic foreign object extracted from his ass. guessed it...a Barbie doll!

Now, I can imagine that it didn't feel...umm....too bad going in. Kind of like giving birth backwards, and the head isn't even that big--nothing like pushing out three small watermelons like I did. However, once inserted, and with those pointy little hands and feet now pointed outward...I could see that the removal process could be a little more....problematic? Hence the need for internvention by medical personnel.
So, after the giggles died down, the enormous question of "WHY?!" reverberated through the room. Why would someone do such a thing? Surely it can't feel...good. Are they into pain? What is the purpose of shoving a variety of foreign objects into the rectal cavity?

And other than the possibility that he was inspired by this Eddy Murphy song, I don't have any answers, because frankly I, personally, am not partial to even the most benign anal play. So, the thought of inserting beer bottles or (egads) wine bottles, or live gerbils (aka one version of felching) into that particular orifice is quite beyond my comprehension. However, that doesn't mean I can sit in judgement and say it's "wrong" to want to do such things. And neither can I presume to postulate the attraction to such a fetish...or any fetish, for that matter (and there ARE some doozies!)

And for that reason, I think I'm going to join a fetish site that I know of and see if I can find someone to answer some of those questions, but in the mean time, just for fun, I looked up this list of weird and wonderful sexual fetishes
A couple of favorites out of that list would be:
Formicophilia: deriving pleasure from having insects crawl on your genitals. Kind of like a vibrator, I'm thinking...only without the need for batteries.
Plushophilia: the attraction to stuffed animals. Well, if you're into beastiality this is a nice, benign alternative to the sheep farmer's big rubber boots and velcro gloves!

(Btw...yes, that is a "Pooper-Scooper Barbie" in the picture.)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

The boob-rut

I admit it...I have fallen into a boob-rut. And by that I do not mean a deep trench worn into the ground by dragging a Triple-D breasted babe across eager earth in an effort to make a pair of uniform furrows for planting purposes. Wow...Sorry. The alliteration, and the use of questionable imagery went a little wild there!

But in truth, the vast majority of female characters in my books are not endowed gorgeous melon-sized globes or overly-enhanced orbs. Most of my female characters are, instead, bestowed with smaller, more "athletic" sized breasts. Basically I'm biased towards an A or B cup...with very occasional ventures into other realms of the alphabet. And the reason for that isn't rocket science. That's where I fall, hence that's what I'm comfortable with...largely because when I write I have to put myself into the character's places and try to imagine myself as "them."  And isn't ironic that it's easier for me to imagine myself as a man with a penis than as a woman with a double-D bra cup.

And what does this have to do with anything, you might ask? Well, last night my dear hubby and I went out and did something we haven't done for FAR too long. We went to one of our favorite clubs for an evening of dancing and socializing! However, unfortunately, and for a variety of reasons, the club wasn't quite as busy as usual and the DJ really got on our nerves. I got tired of hearing his drunken-sounding voice (no, he wasn't drunk, he just sounds like that...allll the time!) telling us repeatedly--in between every two songs, it seemed--how we were all going to party all night long, and how he was taking any and all requests and he guaranteed that he would play those requests. Well, he didn't play mine. The so-called DJ had never even heard of KT Tunstall or The Scissor Sisters, let alone had their music available. So, in between sporadic trips to the dance floor and chowing down on some really excellent French fries, my hubby and I passed the time with a little game of "Real or Refurbished."  Just a good-natured game of trying to guess who among the guests have opted for a little engineering enhancement for their breasts.

Being blessed with relatively small, but unmistakabley perky mounds that seemed to fare quite well through the rigors of three rounds of pregnancy and lactation, I have never really considered the option of enhancement. And if I had I know for a fact my hubby would have actively discouraged it. He has a most distinct preference for the "unenhanced" female form and, having had opportunity to check out the "wares" of a fare number of women who have gone that do I. Make no mistake, I have no issue with women wanting to feel better about themselves. With women who are in need of augmentation for reasons of health or significant "droopage" due to age or various other reasons. I don't even have issue with women who just want a little lift for no other reason than they want cleavage when they wear a low-cut gown. I do, however, have serious issues with THIS.

Of course this is an extreme example, and not one that the vast majority of women...or more specifically any SANE woman would ever aspire to, however it does astound me how many choose to augment to the point that it is so painfully (and I'm quite sure it was) obvious that that is what's happened. When breasts stick out from the chest all on their own, without any help from external sources, or when they just don't move during dancing or running...yeah. That is pretty much a give away. And, I'm sorry just isn't sexy! And if you've ever had the privilege to touch a pair like that? Hard and Not sexy at all.

I do not now, nor have I ever, understood the Caucasian (I would say North American but judging from THIS bit of info we hardly have a monopoly on the obsession) obsession with silicone. Breasts are beautiful in ALL their forms...big or small, with tiny pink nipples or large dark areolas, pert and perfect, or etched with stretch marks...we should appreciate them for what they are. I guess what they are however, and what pleasures they provide, varies greatly from individual to individual. I just don't think they should ever be the soul source of esteem or a gage of sexiness for anyone.

If you have time, be sure to scroll down on that page and check out the video from the MidWest Teen Sex Show. It's hilarious! And very poignant.