Me. From an article in the Italian edition of Marie Claire (there’s a bigger pic of it if you click the Marie Claire link). credits: Luigi Cazzaniga

Now we carry on…

When I first started blogging, I talked about my sex life a lot and in detail. I did so because I wasn’t dating anyone who cared, because basically I dated people who weren’t around long enough to give a damn. That all changed when I met the man I used to refer to as “the cowboy” or “my flova” (friend and lover). At first, he was like all the rest. At first, there was no hope of a relationship on the horizon. When we started dating, that’s all it was. Dating. And sex. And while the two were mutually exclusive, I didn’t believe it was going anywhere else. He didn’t want a relationship and so I blogged and blogged about my pining for him.

And then, a few months later, things changed. He told me he loved me.

It was April of 2005.

The words just flew out of his mouth. The words I’d been hoping, not so secretly, to hear. And we moved forward - together. Three plus years now.

Other things changed once the “I love you” slipped from his lips. I couldn’t write the same anymore. I wanted to be more personal in my life, and not on my blog, to share less with the world and to share more with him.

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Cherry TV is live! Words can’t express how lucky I feel to be part of this site. If you want to see me dishing on BJ’s, vibrators and lubes, go to Fresh Advice and watch away! But be warned, there are plenty of other great reasons to watch Cherry TV, like the women’s roundtable and Yvonne Fulbright’s Fresh Advice too.

And thanks to Lux Nightmare for her fantastic write-up of Personal Touch 3: Exploring the O via Fleshbot. I do agree with her, it is the best one in the series (that’s not to say I don’t love something about all the movies, but this is definitely my favorite). But this is the only one of the films where all three scenes, are worth the watch.

Now, back to my regularly scheduled programming…

I was recently wading through a sea of emails on the subject of the placement of semen on one’s body. It seems that when it comes to where semen is deposited, coming on the face of the “semen-recipient” illicits the most debate.

Porn has placed a high value on the facial, a standard and seemingly erotic act of depositing semen around the eyes, nose and mouth. It has shown women, and men, eagerly anticipating the final moments of his orgasmic climax when he’ll spurt, spurt and splatter near an open facial orifice. Often times the performer being spurted on looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights, wanting to run out of the way, but frozen in the moment between dry mouth and wet face.

I’ve seen this traditional “Oh no, you’re about to come on my face,” face in more adult movies than I care to admit, and while in my personal life, a little come on the face can be erotic for both parties involved, when it comes to watching it in the movies, I’m not a fan. To me, the intimacy of the act, and the possible degrading feelings that may ensue, should be taken into consideration more often than they are on film. If you aren’t comfortable with your partner, or, if like in most porn, you just met that day, a little come on the face is usually a little too much.

And definitely, no matter what don’t get it in the eyes, it burns like a motherf*cker on fire.

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Since it was recently discovered (or uncovered) that former governor Eliot Spitzer liked to wear black socks to bed, there’s been a bit of buzz on the “under the covers sock debate.” Some people say socks are a no-go, while others don’t care if they, or their partners, do it with them on or off. In the socks vs. no socks debate, I would opt out of debating, because I don’t care about them one way or the other. Unless of course they smell worse than your feet, then I care a lot. But I think wearing thigh-high socks, whether they be solid, striped or pretty patterns, can be as sexy as wearing heels to bed, and besides, since my feet always get/are cold, socks keep me comfortable.

However, we are living in a media world, and this sock story is no longer just about socks. In other words, this sock story has taken off on its own two feet. So much so that today I’ve received numerous requests to do radio interviews on the subject of socks and intimacy.

See, I was quoted in the Daily News, in an article that started out with this sentence:

If former Gov. Eliot Spitzer really had sex with his socks on, it may have signaled a fear of intimacy during his trysts with high-priced hookers, sex experts said Sunday.

And while yes, I agreed that it could be a sign of a fear of all things intimate, I also believe that it may not be a sign at all. I mean this is someone he’s paying to have sex with, and therefore a seemingly unimportant decision, like whether or not Spitzer, or any other person for that matter, leaves their socks on or off is really an open and shut, who cares anyway, sort of case. It’s not a big deal at all. It’s personal preference. Or perhaps it’s being considerate to the person you’re with. Maybe you have the stinkiest, nastiest feet with pointy nails that could rip through skin and you didn’t get a chance to trim them before your tryst - wouldn’t you want to leave your socks on too?

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Having sex this Easter Sunday? Whether you’re getting it on in bed, on the table or in the backyard here are ways to keep the spirit of Easter alive within you.

• You’re not hunting for eggs, no, remind yourself that you’re humping someone with eggs instead - if you’re a gay man this reminder doesn’t apply, sorry.

• Make sure that you screw like rabbits when you screw.

• When he comes, have him ejaculate onto his stomach and then bring out the food dye and color his sperm for a pretty Easter treat.

• Do it out back, on the grass, wearing only your best Easter bonnet.

• And don’t forget to scream for sweet Jesus with every thrust!

Did I mention that I’m in LA?

This morning I did the Boomer and Carton show on WFAN. Although I don’t really follow sports, actually sex is a sport so I guess I follow one sport, I was really stoked to be able to hang with the boys for but a moment. I mean even I, a fan of only the commercials during the Superbowl, was stoked to talked to Boomer, a legend in the field of football, although since I don’t know the sport I don’t know why he’s a legend (and yes, I know, I can google it and find out). We were talking about Spitzer and McGreevey and some other political figure who had an emotional and physical affair.

It just came out that McGreevey had a threesome, while married, with another man and his wife. The only thing I can really say is go McGreevey! I think his wife is denying it, which I sort of understand, I mean it is her private life and she may just want to keep it private. This is the big news out of that camp. Then, of course, there’s Spitzer, who as the world knows by now, hooked up with a sex worker, and spent a lot of money doing so. Lastly, there’s this other political figure (I know it’s a particular person, but it really could be any politician in this day and age) who has gone even further, falling in love, or deep like, or whatever, with another woman, a woman that he didn’t pay to have sex with him.

Boomer (I think it was him, so many voices, and I was only one lone voice on the phone) put the three sexual “offenses” in order of seriousness. He placed the threesome at the bottom of the rank, as in most unserious (I know not a real word), then the Spitzer affair and then this other politician at the top. I agree. I think emotional investments in sex are the most dangerous. Far more dangerous than the other two, as long as safer sex measures were taken in cases one and two.

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My friend Lux Nightmare, who recently wrote a fantastic piece about “The End of Alt” for Fleshbot, got me thinking a few months back when she read aloud from another piece she wrote, The Pink Ghetto, (which I know is not a term she created, but a term she embraces when it comes to working in the world of sex) at Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Best Sex Writing 2008 book party.

In it she mentioned how hard it is for anyone who works in sex to use their birth name. In it, she mentioned a few of us who embraced our birth name, but spoke of the challenges of both doing so, and not doing so. See, in this piece Lux (not her birth name) writes how there are few of us who talk about, write about, or play with sex/gender that use our birth name, which leads me to a digression - why is it sometimes called our “g-d given” name, when it’s the name given to us by one or two people that we meet when we come into this world, or at some other time in our lives.

It’s difficult to be under 60 and talk about sex, even your own sex life, or do sexy things on camera or on stage, and use your original name. So I can understand why one might change their name. Part of it may be ego based, perhaps you need to escape who you once were and prove to yourself what you can do. Or perhaps you just really like this new name. Another part of it is for protection, to maintain privacy, so that no sex-raving lunatic will find out where you live, and try to stab your eye out with a pencil. I get it, but I never got it. At least not for myself.

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Almost everything from my last post about Spitzer. Almost everything. I’m glad Spitzer resigned today. It would be one thing if it were just a sex scandal, something that happened once, or even once in a while, but the lying, hypocritical soon to be ex-Governor is totally disgusting and I’m glad he’s gone. In the words of Al Franken, Spitzer is a lying liar who lies. And I think liars and hypocrites suck big time.

Sorry to be so negative. But it isn’t only the sex scandal - with a 22 year old woman - that makes hims suck. Don’t forget last year, when he got into trouble after certain members of his staff used the State Police to help spread evil words about Joseph L. Bruno, his chief Republican rival.

Bad Spitzer. Bad.

And I hear he didn’t even show remorse during his resignation. It’s like he wanted to get caught.

Monogamy isn’t natural. Eliot Spitzer proves it once again.

Governor Eliot Spitzer has paid for sex, and unfortunately, will possibly pay for that sex with his job. Yes, the beloved well-liked for but a minute, Governor of New York has admitted to the world, and more importantly to his family, that he did indeed stick his pee-pee in another lady’s bits, and these bits didn’t belong to his wife, or thankfully, his daughters. That means they belonged to another kind of friend. The truth is, he’ll get off easier than McGreevey and Craig, cause they liked to do it with other man friends, but I fear that he won’t get off at all (some may argue that he’s already gotten off).

I’m sure he’ll be more careful now, though I’m sure he thought he was being careful then. I mean the reason higher profile people seek the comfort of paid strangers is because they don’t have to deal with the bullsh-t of the non-paid ones. The “why haven’t you called” and “when are you going to leave your wife” types.

But because he’s in the public spotlight this isn’t just about a man with a boner that needed to bone some other woman, this is about a politician and his prick. I hope that it’ll be like Clinton, who when he finally fessed up to sexual relations with that woman, still got to stay in office. Spitzer has admitted he’s cheated (and I only call it cheating because he didn’t tell his wife about their agreement to sleep with other people), so can’t we all move on?

Yeah, he’s done wrong before (like last year), and yeah, he’ll probably do wrong again but he is a politician. And you can’t expect much from your politicians. Besides, he’s human, and humans make “mistakes.” You can’t fault him for that.

I hope he doesn’t resign. It’s sex man, it’s not like he did something that hurt any of us. It doesn’t affect how he governs New York. Or do you think it does?

I was recently forwarded a post from Moxie in the City.

The post, entitled “Is This the New Anal?” started out talking about hentai, which according to wikipedia is:

Hentai (変態 or へんたい?) is a Japanese word that can be used to mean “metamorphosis” or “abnormality”. In Japan “hentai” has a strong negative connotation, and is commonly used to mean “sexually perverted”. In the West the term is used as slang for sexually explicit or pornographic comics and animation, particularly Japanese anime, manga and computer games. Hentai anime and manga allow elements of sexual fantasy to be represented in ways that would be impossible to film. This may include portrayals of sexual acts which are physically impossible, unacceptable in society, or run counter to social norms. Examples include extreme bondage, creatures with tentacles, and other fetishes. Shunga artists like Yoshitoshi and Kuniyoshi showed gang rape, erotic crucifixion, and even forced late third-trimester abortions by a “cannibal witch.”

Somehow, the discussion went from hentai to strap-on sex - where a man takes it up the the black hole of uranus (aka the bum)! The conversation stopped being about hentai, where strap-on sex can happen, but it wouldn’t just be regular strap-on, and became about “bend over boyfriend” sex in general.

And so, Moxie writes (I left the typos in because I don’t like to change other people’s words):

Okay. I don’t get it. The strap on thing? My feleing is, that when a woman does that to a man, it’s to humiliate and dominate him. To brand him in a way. To make him her bitch. Yet, I think when a man wants to have anal with his girlfriend, it’s because the pleasure is greater for him. It’s more of a primal urge. Apparetly, according to Deep Throat, hentai is the new anal. Have I missed a memo some where? Is this what the kids are in to these days? And am I way off with my feelings about women using a strap on on men? Is it possible that this here “blow job queen” is a prude?

While I could comment on her blog, I’d rather write my own opinion here, in my space on my own time. And my opinion is that what she says about strap-on sex is off base. For me, when I want to strap it on, the thought of which happens more than the actual act, it’s because I love the trust and intimacy that comes with penetrating, or getting penetrated, during the act of anal sex. Yes, whether I stick something in him, or whether he sticks his ding up my dong (ding=penis and dong=butt), I feel like I’m doing a most intimate sex act.

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