Monthly Archives: November 2010

I wish the Sherpa was doing the work

Dear Tad,

I received another blog post from our guest blogger ‘Pandora’. Enjoy!

“What is the purpose of the enormous vibrator? To what purpose does the gigantic dildo serve to any couple? A standard by which to prove that you can fit that huge Mack Truck through the tunnel of love? A comparison to the formerly adequate schlong you so gently placed inside of me and now you want to ram Godzilla in there?? Do you really want me to draw the comparison? Really?

I get the whole idea of exploring new realms, trying something new, mixing it up. I get it, but really, should I be able to skateboard on it when I have no other mode of transportation? When you can answer, “Why yes, it really is bigger than a breadbox!” something has gone a little overboard at the sex shop.

Now, I’m hardly a prude. In fact, I consider myself a pretty adventurous chick; I have the mindset that I will try anything in the bedroom at least once. If it works, keep doing it; if it’s too weird feeling, painful or uncomfortable, I say NO thanks the next time and move on to bigger and better adventures (so to speak). However, when my mate brought out the Ground-to-Air missile recently during our “alone time”, that most likely was reclaimed from the Cold War, I gasped in horror and though to myself, “Good god, what’s the plan here? And where am I going to fit that?”

Needless to say, it appeared to be a novelty item that served no other purpose for me than to make me happy that at least my Kegels had been working and the old girl had managed to tighten the twat or at least made me feel as if I had. What I really just don’t get is the pleasure factor. If I had chosen it for myself, ( I prefer the smooth, small, portable kind usually hot pink in color. Go figure) I wouldn’t have complained the slightest because I would have known the type of event that would take place. Or at least have some idea. BUT when your mate walks in and presents the gift of aforementioned “bread box” and won’t themselves realize the task you have ahead of you accommodating a reticulated python in your nest, I say Nay!

Maybe if it’s “your thing”, I say go for it! To each his/her own. But for GOD SAKES, can’t we keep love making reasonable; not the chore of climbing Mt. Everest, the Sherpa is on break and you’ve just used up your last oxygen tank. Because if this keeps up, maybe I am going to have to grab another Sherpa while I sit back and watch them climb the mountain. See how you like it!”

-Pandora

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Pandora’s Crotch

Dear Tad,

In recent weeks we have heard a tremendous amount about Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and gay marriage in the political campaigns. Where we will be in six months with Republicans holding onto the house, no one knows. In the meantime, there are more and more people who are feeling that they can be freer with who they are. Recently, a friend of a friend sent me a note to tell me her thoughts on things bisexual and/or lesbian, take your pick. I liked it, because it really is an honest depiction of how many women, gay and straight, have thought about their sexuality at some time or another.

Here it is…

“Today I realized that I may have stumbled on the quintessential phrase that is defining my new found independence and sexuality (see above title, maybe its too abstract if I don’t point it out!). While talking to a friend, I realized that with my divorce looming and my sense of self expanding it was time to explore the things that I have always wanted to try and do. I am a new woman. I am free to choose the mate that I want. My words to live by have always been: Be open to love because you never know what package it’s going to come wrapped in. I’ve dated good looking guys, ugly ones, funny ones, hung ones, short ones, black, white, Asian, Mexican, you name it, I’ve tried it. You could say that I’m an equal opportunity heart breaker.

But there is one group that I have never tried to date: women. Not once, not ever. Sure, I’ve thought about it, in fact, some of my best fantasies involve a beautiful, if not slightly butch woman. I’ve never thought in the realm of possibilities that I could be with a woman; I’m not attracted to them. Well, that’s not entirely true. I can admire a beautiful woman. I would probably admit that I find women attractive and men rather hairy, sweaty and obsessed with their dangly parts. As for women, I have a thing for breasts, they are soft and pink and well, I don’t really like my own, so maybe there’s a bit of sizing up the other ladies involved. Not sure, but I do notice a nice pair of breasts just about anywhere. I seem to sneak sideways glances at other women’s hooters, and usually stop by glancing down at my own saggy “girls”.

So, cut to this conversation I had with a lady friend of mine (yes she dates girls) and she challenges me. She snares me in the possibilities of “what if”. She mentions the beauty of women, their softness, and their ability to be nurturing and loving and more selfless then men. I’m intrigued to say the least. I shake my head at her, when I stop to think: Could I? What would be the problem with trying, who knows, maybe all of the breaking up I’ve done over the years has been because I don’t really care what men think of me. I’m pretty blunt when it comes to relationships. I ask for what I want, sexually, emotionally, and physically and I usually get it. If I don’t, I’m out the door. I have always empowered myself in a relationship to be more dominant, more assertive than most other women.

But then there’s the part of me that yearns for someone to love me and give back to me all that I give. Part of me that has forgotten what it’s like to have someone care so deeply about me that they open up entirely. Open up to the possibility and that terrible dread of potential heartbreak; I hope they might consider that it just could be worth it this time, just try. I think a woman could be this for me. I usually say that if it weren’t for the sex, I would be a lesbian. I love talking to women, hanging out with women, pretty much everything but the sex part. That scares me to be honest. Scares the shit out of me. I don’t know why. Maybe the fear of judgment, the feeling of shame I feel that accompanies me even those times when I am alone and want to masturbate without the “helpful” hand of a dude by my side. Yes, thank you religious upbringing and conservative small town values for ruining my possibilities. Maybe not ruining them forever, but I have a lot of guilt to squash before I can move on and try the things I might be missing.

A friend once told me that I’m one flannel shirt away for being a dyke. I laughed with her, because I have always enjoyed sex with men, I like it a lot. It’s just that I don’t want to miss something that maybe I didn’t know I would like or want. So thank you friend, for opening up the possibilities for me to consider, in fact, I think you may have opened up a whole new world for me. Who knows! I’ll let you know how it goes!”

-Confession of a (historically) straight girl

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