sexuality

Love making is much more than physical expression, it is a soulful dance of sensual wonder and euphoric amazement.

Intimacy and lovemaking__ntertwined, meshed, and one becoming the other__re what I strive to achieve each time I am presented with the opportunity to enjoy a lovemaking experience.

There is no shame in darkness.

We long for an intimate connection, but that longing makes us feel vulnerable. Therefore, we guard our hearts for self-preservation, which barricades that intimacy we are longing for. Casual sex is a very sad cat and mouse game. The man is entrapped in his role as the sex-driven predator constantly on the hunt for new conquests, while the woman is the prey that must find her perfect combination of sexual allure and virtue, with the sexual allure being what attracts him and virtue what keeps him.

Sexual normalcy and abnormality are personal and subjective concepts. What is unnatural to one [person] is natural to another. What is abnormal under certain conditions may be completely normal under others. And, in any event, to be different is not necessarily to be wrong, or to be sick.

I only knew to treat the male asshole as if it had a grenade buried inside of it that could ignite a deadly explosion of anger, trauma, and sexual confusion.

Sex is too sweet to speak about, you must only do it

I__e wanted you since the moment you first turned up here four months ago,_ he whispered, __ have to have you.

She loved the fact he was older than her and more experienced, he had so much to teach her and she couldn__ wait to learn.

I don't need the aid of a clever man to teach me how to live. I can find it out for myself.

The prostate might as well have been a mythological creature like a unicorn or Leprechaun only acknowledged through whispery giggles among women brunching with their gay friends.

I milked my typical persona as a gritty, intellectual sex-positive feminist that men loved to conquer, toss aside, and shove into their conquest collection in the dusty backs of their closets.

But penetration was a big deal. They protected their anuses the way girls protected their hymen in high school, believing that allowing anything beyond their holy gates would permanently corrupt them.

Sex exists in the now without past or future. If, for a single second, your minds drifts back to the past or forwards into the unknown, the moment withers like a dead plant and the passage of pleasure turns to a road of dust.

But time and time again, I saw the change in their eyes once they__ conquered me. Dehumanization always follows penetration.

By the age of thirteen, any blossoming girl knows the power she possesses over boys. By the time she's thirty she's come to realize men would stoop to fucking chickens under the right circumstances.

Anal sex was my least favorite bedroom activity. Even through half a bottle of lube, the whole charade felt like pooping backwards. It was a negotiation token- something I begrudgingly did in exchange for backrubs and switching the television from football to Sex in the City. Anal sex was something I tolerated in order to be a cool girlfriend, because it was and still is common knowledge that that men love shoving their dicks in buttholes. Male buttholes, however, had their own rules and regulations. Everyone knew that men who allowed rectal access were gay. I didn__ question it. I didn__ analyze it. I only knew to treat the male asshole as if it had a grenade buried inside of it that could ignite a deadly explosion of anger, trauma, and sexual confusion.

Safe sex is an act of self love.