BloggingDangerously

Single Sex Week & The Wasted Orgasm Theory

Let's be clear, despite what my mother might think, I was NOT a virgin when I got to college.  However, there is a HUGE difference between having sex on your livingroom floor (true story) and having sex in your very own dormroom/bed with NO chance of anyone coming home to catch you.

My college boyfriend and I experimented.  It was fun.  I'm sure we'll cover this in more detail later but I'm telling you this because you need to understand the ENLIGHTED mindframe I was in when I came up with:

THE WASTED ORGASM THEORY.

Basically it goes like this; you should seize every opportunity you have to orgasm because every orgasm you DON'T have is GONE FOREVER and CAN NEVER BE RECOVERED.

Don't believe me?

Answer this: How many orgasms can you have in an hour? 1? 5? 20?

And if you dont have them can you have twice as many the following hour?

No?  I didn't think so and I REST MY CASE.

Those orgasms you didn't have?  GONE. FOREVER.  SO SAD. TOO BAD.

And what the hell are you still doing here reading a BLOG for GOD'S SAKE?  GO. ORGASM. NOW.

OK, I'm kidding.  Keep reading.  But as we kick off SINGLE SEX WEEK, I thought it would be helpful for you to understand the mindset I had for most of college.

Now for the sake of my reputation it's important to note that I wasn't screwing my way around campus like a bunny.  BUT OH THAT POOR RABBIT I called my boyfriend, I don't think he had much chance to waste many either.  In fact, I think he may have faked a couple.

At one point he and I challenged another couple that we were friendly with to a sex scavenger hunt.  You had to have sex all over campus and you got points for different venues depending on the likelihood that you would be caught in the act.  As evidence of how young and naive were were, you got 1 point for doing IT on the quad, a bonus point if you were caught and ONLY 1 additional bonus point if you were ARRESTED.  Can you imagine that phone call?  "Hey mom..."

Anyway, the other couple pulled out (hehe) of the competition before it even started with some CRAP about how sex was supposed to be an ACT OF LOVE and not a tawdry competition. WHATEVER.

My boyfriend and I were so excited by the prospect of the game that we decided to continue on even though there was no competition.  We hit the hot spots, the quad, the football field, the President's Lawn, etc. but we were finally scared back into our bedroom the night we decided to try the chapel.  It was Sunday night at around 9pm and Mass was at 10.  We figured we had plenty of time before the service but the door was locked.  We ended up doing it in the vestibule outside the doors.  It was VERY COLD out so as soon as we were done we jumped up and put ourselves back together - JUST in the NICK OF TIME.  No sooner were we ready to leave than the resident PRIEST walked into the vestibule.  He knew us and we him.  "Hi" he said, confused as to why we were early.  But he was a college priest and I'm not sure he was confused for long.

"Hi" we said, "See you at 10" and walked quickly past him.  I'm pretty sure my entire face was burning and GUILT was tattooed across my forehead.  We walked a short distance and slipped into the shadows. We turned to face each other.

"Did you put your coat on the ground?" my boyfriend asked me. 

"Yeah," I said. "The ground was freezing, remember?"

He laughed and pointed to a huge wad of EVIDENCE on my lapel.

Dangerous Letters, Vol. 5

Thanks for another great week.  I had to stop reading your comments at work because I burst out laughing at a couple of completely inappropriate times. 

I have one update for you before we get into this week's comments.  Last weekend on Twitter someone sent me a message saying that she LOVED going down on her husband and did it "just for fun."  I had a VAGUE recollection of feeling like that at one point in my life and resolved to try to 'bring back that loving feeling.'  That night the 'opportunity' presented itself and I seized it (gently.)

It SUCKED.  (Pun intended.) First of all, while I WAS trying to keep a positive attitude, it was boring and I wasn't getting anything out of it.  Also, it seemed like he was actually ENJOYING it and dragging it out instead of just trying to GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY, like I was.  THEN, I got a canker sore from trying to cover my teeth with my lips which, according to Jackie Collins, should be completely unnecessary anyway.  And when it was FINALLY OVER my husband said, "You don't get credit for that because it's all over my stomach," which made me want to punch him right in the jizz.

So that will be the last of THAT for a while. *SMILING*

Okay, I know I say it every week but THANK YOU for your comments.  There is nothing more rewarding to a blogger than positive feedback and reader interaction.  Plus some of the CRAZY SHIT you write makes me feel better about myself. ;)

By popular request, next week's theme is SINGLE SEX.  So if you're married, start reminiscing back to those days before you were and if you're currently single, you've got a couple more days to come up with stories that will really knock our socks off!

Here we go:

On the post, Confessions of a Dangerous Blogger:

Dated a boy in HS and we were getting busy when his parents came home early. We were in the room above the garage and heard the garage door open. He turned the lights on and it was the first time I ever saw a penis! I didn't have time to put my bra and undies on and I put my shirt on inside-out. I stuffed my bra and undies in my pocket. He pulls on his pants and shirt and stuffs his boxers in the couch. He took out a board game and set it up to look like we were playing a game. His parents were not stupid and we got yelled at for a good 5 minutes. His dad told me if I ended up pregnant they would hope I would put the baby up for adoption. I ran down to the bathroom in tears and tried to put my bra and panties on when I realize my bra was not in my pocket. His mom was standing outside the bathroom door holding my bra asking if I was missing anything.

signed I'll never tell

Kit: This story gave me heart palpitations! 

At age 14 I was in a field near my parents house making out with my boyfriend. He was so cute. We were lying in the field and rolling around while making out. I kept feeling this thing pressing on my leg, my hip, and my belly and later when I was telling my girlfriend about the makeout session I said to her, "It was the weirdest thing, he had a brat in his pocket!" (I am from Wisconsin and for those of you that don't know what a Brat is, it is like a polish sausage / large hot dog).

We laughed so hard, I thought it was the most bizarre thing, I didn't understand why in the world he would put a giant sausage in his pocket. We joked that he must have been saving it for a snack later on...

Needless to say, I later learned that it wasn't a brat after all. I was FLOORED that the male anatomy was not all that different than the brat...

signed, NotTooBright

Kit: If it were more like a BRAT I may be more interested.  I LOVE Brat.

My boyfriend and I live about an hour apart, both still with our parents, and we both work long hours during the week so we really only see eachother on Sundays and Mondays.

It was Monday afternoon, both his parents were at work and his 14 year old sister was at school. We took advantage of this rare situation. After all was said and done, he went to the bathroom ass naked, and I laid on the bed, ass naked. I hear the front door open and slam. I quickly scrambled under the covers and closed my eyes as if I were sleeping, only to have his sister jump on top of me. I made my voice all hoarse and pretended I washad just woken up. I asked her to do me the biggest favor of her life and get me a glass of water from downstairs. She got up to get it and I immediately threw on the first thing I could find, my boyfriend runs out of the bathroom, penis and balls cupped in hand, I threw clothes at him, he ran back to the bathroom, and I breathlessly crawled back under the covers just in time for my glass of water to arrive.

(PS - I posted a few posts ago regarding my "vibrator virginity" which is now non existent, so thank you very much.)

signed, The Vibrator (non) Virgin

Kit: While I have to admit that it's a very funny story and one I can totally relate to if you just substitute the sister in the story for my kids - my daughter walked in on us TWICE this morning - my favorite part of the comment above is the P.S.  I LOVE turning people on to vibrators.  You, non-Virgin, are totally WELCOME.

On the post, And the Oscar for Worst Sexual Performance by a Blogger Goes to...:

I just thank god that the internet existed when I had to give my first blow job. I had NO IDEA what to do, so I headed to an AOL chat room (oh yeah, I loved wreaking some havoc in chat rooms) and started asking for advice.

Honestly, I don't know if I ever could have done it if I didn't have the internet to teach me. Jackie Collins might let you down, but the internet never does.

signed, Jess

Kit: Jess, you are SO VERY right. 

You should find her e-mail and send her this. SHE OWES YOU!!!

signed, Alena

Kit: Alena, I took your advice.  Apparently Ms. Collins does not have an email address so I had to email her publisher.  I got an out-of-office response but if I ever receive a real response I promise to print it.

I think the only word in this entire post I can relate to is "nowhere." Nonetheless, it's always nice to read about someone else's, ahem, fuck ups in the sack. I'm in some sort of epic dry spell, so it's reassuring to be reminded that not all sex is good sex, and that I might not be missing out on all that much. Except good sex. Obviously.

signed, alonewithcats

Kit: In this case, I highly recommend vibrators. 

I also read Jackie Collins, but fortunately I discussed the situation with a male friend before I ever attempted it. He still calls me "Teeth".

signed, Jerseygirl89

Kit: Did he offer to let you practice?  I find that men are VERY generous teachers that way.

On the post, Halloween Hussy:

A couple of years ago my college friends had the great idea of dressing up as Rockstars (more like Barbie and the rockers) but it was a big FAIL bc we were just wearing old fashioned clothes and some friends recognized it. The problem was that the gorgeous guy I spent all night talking and sharing drinks was dressed up as a Army Chippendale. Nice right??? He was so cute! Tall and lots of muscles lol... Add smart please.
The only problem? He was a real Chippendale (male dancer) who left work to go to the dance club. I found out about it 3 dates later. Yuck

signed, Yakalita

Kit: Really?  You cared that he was a professional male dancer?  I'm just saying I might not have cared until the 20th or 30th date.

Halloween is always good times.

In college, I wore my 6th grade cheerleading costume to the bars. I don't think I paid for a drink for the next 6 months.

When my husband and I were dating I may have gotten a little bold in line for the haunted house. The chainsaw guy screamed "FORNICATORS" at us and chased us out.

signed, Corrin

Kit: I knew I should have been a Cheerleader.

On the post, Confessions of an Uneasy Rider:

Loads of people read your blog... you tell him that from me :) I'm a total addict. I thought that as I hit the URL link from twitter mere seconds ago.

And a SWAT team defence system??? WTF???

signed, Bee

Kit: I'm thinking of patenting the ottoman idea and selling it door-to-door to crack houses as a "security system."  The only thing is that I'm afraid to go door-to-door to crack houses.  I'm still working on my marketing plan.

Okay, seriously, WTF is he doing? Hacking the Pentagon? Hacking police headquarters? Two words, Kit: NET NANNY! And the likelihood of the ottoman stalling SWAT is like almost non-existent. And if they got hurt by the ottoman they'd probably sue you for damages.

signed, Twisted Bride

Kit: Can you get the reality show version of NET NANNY like they have on tv for kids?  You know the super bitchy british lady?  Because, at this point, I'm thinking that a dominatrix is the only thing that's going to keep my husband out of jail.

Block the bedroom door with the ottoman until he stops doing whatever it is he is doing on the computer.

signed, oneandonly_erin

Kit: If I lock my husband out of the bedroom I'm afraid that the police will confuse Carmen Electra with a REAL BULLET and shoot me.  I hate to admit it but the ottoman plan may just be the best one.

Thanks for hanging out with me this week!  See you Monday!  Have a great weekend and remember, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Love,

Kit

Confessions of an Uneasy Rider

Don't be alarmed.  It wouldn't be good if we were all freaking out.  I mean when the police leave and the door is reattached to it's hinges someone's got to be in a position to tell the newspapers what happened.

But maybe I should start at the beginning...

My family and I live in a 4 bedroom colonial.  My husband and I share a room, my sons share a room and my daughters share a room.  The extra bedroom is my home office.  I work here most days.  At night, after the kids are in bed my husband and I mess around on our respective computers.  (That is, when we're not messing around in our bedroom.  See MARRIED SEX week for details on that.)

Anyway, I have NO IDEA what my husband does on the computer.  I thought it was something about tracking stocks or maybe PORN.  Until Saturday morning...

Saturday morning was my day to get up with the kids while my husband slept in.  What this means is that the kids get up around 6:30 and watch tv and then I get up around 7:30 and make them breakfast.  When I got up on Saturday, someone had move the ottoman from the formal living room to the bottom of the stairs in front of the front door.

Now, as the mother of 4 children I IMMEDIATELY thought TRAMPOLINE and started to accuse them of moving the ottoman so that they could jump from the top step onto the trampoline ottoman and bounce off and kill themselves, break every bone in their body, force me to get up even earlier, hurt themselves.

As I started my interrogation: "Was it YOU?!?" pointing at my second son (truly, it's ALWAYS him) my husband's voice rang out.  "It was me."

"Wha? Why?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later." he answered.

Later, I made the mistake of asking him why.  I was concerned that he had heard a noise outside in the night and thought that someone might be trying to break in.  The answer, was even scarier.

This is the answer I got:  "Now, I'm not saying that I'm doing anything on the computer. BUT, if the police bring a crash car to the door, they'll come in the front door with a battering ram and having the ottoman there will buy a few extra seconds so that you can get to the kids."

I sat there for a moment and then said what you're all thinking:  "You're FUCKING NUTS."

Also, "Thanks for having the plan be for me to run out into the hallway to greet the SWAT TEAM."

Tonight I asked him, "Um would you mind if I blogged about how crazy you are? You know, with the ottoman and everything?  Or do you think that if the Police are reading this they'll realize that we have the SECRET WEAPON OTTOMAN and will decide to come in one of the other 5 doors?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "No, I don't think that anyone reads your blog."

At which point I decided he was an asshole and deserved to get shot up by a swat team.

Love,

Kit

Halloween Hussy

This Confession concerns the most ill-behaved I have ever been on a date...

I've never been much for Halloween.  First of all, Halloween in New England sucks.  Either your costume has to be 15 sizes too big to fit over your winter coat or you're freezing your ass off in a Wonder Woman costume.  And let me tell you, a skinny 11 year old girl with goosebumps and barely-there breasts does not do justice to a Wonder Woman costume.

Also, my mother lacks creativity.  She couldn't make a sock puppet if you paid her, nevermind a Halloween costume.  So, left to my own devices at Halloween, I struggled.

As soon as I could reasonably shrug off trick-or-treating I did, and I didn't look back.

I didn't look back until my 20s when I was invited to a Halloween Costume party by some friends of mine at work.  They had rented out a bar downtown and hired a band and it was supposed to be FANTASTIC, except that you had to wear a costume.

A week before the party I still hadn't figured out what to wear.  I met my brother for drinks to discuss it.  There was a HOT guy at the bar.  We made eye contact a couple of times and finally, when my brother went to the bathroom I smiled at him and said hi.  I introduced myself.  I made sure to mention that my brother was my BROTHER.

Before we left he asked for my number.  I gave it to him.

He called me the next day.  I invited him to go to the party with me.  I told him that he had to wear a costume.  "Sure," he said but he was going out of town for a few days and wouldn't be back until the afternoon of the party.  "Okay." I said.

Finally it was party day.  Before I left work I stopped by to check on my friend Kate.  There was a GORGEOUS guy in her office.  It turns out that he worked with us too but in a different division AND he was going to be at the party later.

My date called me at home to confirm our plans.  I asked him what he'd be wearing.  He told me that he hated Halloween and that he wasn't going to wear a costume.  I BERATED him and told him that he HAD to wear a costume.  That he couldn't go without a costume, etc.  He said that he would wear a costume AND meet me there.

I had decided on my costume.  I wore sexy brown tights and sexy brown high heels.  I wore a tight brown skirt.  I wore a green turtleneck sweater with leaves pinned to it and a green beret.  I was the most stunning 'tree' you've ever seen.  I got to the party early.  It was just me, my 2 friends from work and the GORGEOUS guy from Kate's office.  The GORGEOUS guy and I hung out for an hour before my date showed up.

I should mention that the GORGEOUS guy was not wearing a costume and he looked, well, GORGEOUS.  When my date showed up, he was dressed as a scarecrow - complete with eyeliner stitching all over his face.  He looked RIDICULOUS.

I spent 5 minutes talking to him, excused myself to the ladies room and went back to the GORGEOUS guy.  I only saw my scarecrow again at closing time when the GORGEOUS guy and I were leaving.  He seemed unhappy.

I called him the following day to apologize but he did not answer my calls and never called me back.

He got the last laugh though because the GORGEOUS guy turned out to be a complete NUTJOB and I practically had to move to get away from him.

Has anyone done worse? 

And the Oscar for Worst Sexual Performance by a Blogger goes to...

Me.

When I was 15 my mother had her appendix out.  It was no big deal but this was before laparoscopy so she was laid up for a couple of weeks.  My aunts entertained her by bringing her Jackie Collins books which I stole and read from cover to cover in a hyperpubescent hormonal heap of quivering erogeny.

I totally made that up but you KNOW WHAT I MEAN.  Holy shit, I was a horny 15 year old that summer.

The following year I spent all of my allowance money on Jackie Collins books.  I hid them in my room in the same place I hid the Song Books I stole from the church (TRUE STORY.)  (Aside: I stole the song books from the church because every week at choir practice we read the readings for the following week and suggested applicable songs.  I wanted to have LAST years readings so that I would know what they were THIS year so that I could suggest songs before all of those other GOODY-TWO-SHOES had even finished the readings. Also, so that they could keep the SEX NOVELS company.)

BUT HOLY SHIT, just when you think you can TRUST SOMEONE.

That BITCH Jackie Collins sold me out.  There's a line in LUCKY where a prostitute tells a john that she doesn't want to have sex so he says he'll take oral sex and rubs his "thing" all over her teeth.

There I am, all 15 year old CATHOLIC INNOCENCE thinking, "WOW!  Thanks for the tip Jackie!  Now I know what to do if I'm ever in the same UNIVERSE as a PENIS.  TEETH=GOOD"

Am I the only one who just cringed?

The following summer, I had a boyfriend.  He was my first serious boyfriend - and by serious I mean the only one I had ever been alone with.

We kissed.  It was hot.  We groped.  It was exciting.  Then came the time for my first "performance."

I'm sure you know where this is going.  That is to say, NOWHERE.

A couple of minutes in he pulled away and said, "Why don't we just take a break."  I couldn't even 'help him out' manually - he was too chafed.