Monday, May 31, 2010

Open Letter to OKCupid

This just showed up in my inbox today (emphasis theirs):

We are very pleased to report that you are in the top half of OkCupid's most attractive users. The scales recently tipped in your favor, and we thought you'd like to know.

How can we say this with confidence? We've tracked click-thrus on your photo and analyzed other people's reactions to you in QuickMatch and Quiver.
. . .
Your new elite status comes with one important privilege:
You will now see more attractive people in your match results.
This new status won't affect your actual match percentages, which are still based purely on your answers and desired match's answers. But the people we recommend will be more attractive. Also! You'll be shown to more attractive people in their match results.
. . .
Suddenly, the world is your oyster. Login now and reap the rewards. And, no, we didn't just send this email to everyone on OkCupid. Go ask an ugly friend and see. 

Dear OkCupid,

WTF!?!?!?. I cannot even begin to tell you how offensive this is to me.  As if someone's attractiveness is a quantifiable with a fucking computer algorithm.  And those people who don't make the cut are somehow unworthy of even being viewed by my somehow superior eyes.  Obviously, if someone is arbitrarily declared unattractive their profile isn't even worth the three minutes of my time it would take me to pursue it?  Seriously?  

Is this supposed to make me feel superior to the other half of the population which I have apparently only just risen above (after 7+ months of having a profile on your site).  Am I seriously supposed to feel good that after seven months enough "ugly" people have joined or enough "attractive" people have left to bump me from "ugly" to "attractive"?  Even if I bought into the idea that your website could quantify attractiveness, how would this be flattering news to me?

"Go ask an ugly friend," OKCupid?  Are you for real?  I don't have a single friend that is half as ugly as the sentiments you just expressed in this e-mail.  

Seriously, OKCupid.  I really used to like you.  I've recommended you to friends, and, just a few days ago, to my little sister.  I met the other boyfriend with your help, and I think he's quite spiffy.  But, no.  This is not OK, OKCupid.  You need to clean up your act or I will be breaking up with you.


P.S. Seriously!?!?

Sunday, May 30, 2010


My boyfriend, my lover for the past six years, my partner for more than a fifth of my life, is moving in with me, permanently, in precisely two months.  To say that I was excited about this would be a wild understatement.  But, I am a little bit scared too.

For the last three years we have been dating long distance while we have both been working towards graduate degrees in different states.

And, for the last seven months I have been seeing another man.  He's been dating other women too, and for the last few months he's been seeing one girl in particular.  But, since he is the one moving three states to be with me, he is leaving that relationship behind.

He hasn't flat out said so, but I get the feeling that he would like it if I dropped the other boyfriend and declared that he was all I ever needed in life.

The thing is, I really like being with the other boyfriend.  We connect in a way that is completely different from the boyfriend and I.  And, well, the sex is hot.

I think that in the past I may have leaned too heavily on the idea that non-monogamy was a stop-gap for the the inherent lack of physical sex that comes with a long distance relationship.  The lack of physical intimacy in my life really was my justification, to myself and to him, for why I deserved more than one lover.  But, the truth is that I have always wanted this life.  I just never thought I could be brave enough and/or lucky enough to have it.

I am a little bit scared that I am about to trade in all the crazy, wonderful, kinky potential that comes with multiple partners in order to be with the man I love.  And, I do very much love the hot kinky sex my partner and I have together, but I love all of the interesting possibilities that come with an open relationship too.  I fell like I am just getting started with exploring those possibilities.

This is really the ultimate in over privileged whining, isn't it?  I have a man I love madly, and I still want more.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

His Face

Recently, I stepped on a man's face. 

On purpose.

It was awesome.

I went to this party with the other boyfriend, you see.  And, there was a couple demonstrating trampling.  They were cute, happy, enjoying themselves immensely. 

I was fascinated.  I hadn't realized you could just stand on someone's stomach without doing actual, serious damage.  Shouldn't organs rupture or something?  I mean the trampler was not a large woman by any standard, but she was no wispy Japanese masseuse either.

At the end she asked for volunteers to walk on her friend.  A few small women volunteered.  He bounced a willowy redhead up and down with his stomach muscles while she giggled appreciatively.

Then a fat fetishist, who proudly announced that she weighed 418 lbs, asked if she could stand on him.  He agreed with enthusiasm.  Fascinating.

Later on, the other boyfriend was busy providing aftercare to the pretty girl he had just beaten black and blue, and I wandered downstairs to the "dungeon." I stopped on the landing to survey the scene and found myself looking directly down on Mistress M.  She was standing on her friend and she seemed to genuinely want me to take a turn stepping on him.  So, I did.

It was a crazy feeling.  I was wildly nervous.  I am not a petite woman.  While I do weigh significantly less than 418lbs, I am 5'9 with plenty of padding, and I certainly could not be called small or light.   But it was beyond cool to stand on this man, to feel his flesh give way beneath my bare feet and watch the blissful look that spread across his face.

I'm generally a nervous top, so I felt the need to check in often.  Every time I asked how he was doing, he asked me to step on his face.  My brain could not even comprehend how this would be a good idea. 

But it was so awesome, and he was so happy, so sure of what he wanted that I decided to give it a try.  He guided my feet for me, one at a time.  Left foot over his forehead and eyes, right foot over his mouth and chin. I was balancing the the full weight of my body on his face.  His face!  I counted to ten, took a deep breath, and moved carefully back to his torso and then the ground.  We were both grinning like fools.  He thanked me, and I moved away to let the next girl have her turn.

Friday, May 28, 2010


In my first post I listed some of the kinky shit I've done.  Floggings with bondage, multiple partners, group spankings.  I think I am trying to work up my sex blogger credibility here.  I seem to think that a blogger should have a voice of wisdom.  All of the sex bloggers whom I admire most seem to speak from places of vast experience.  They all seem to have tried, and loved, things I never even thought of before I read their blog--fire play, flesh hooking, wild orgies (O.K., so, I had thought of orgies, but I've never been to one).

I'm not sure that I have a voice of wisdom.  I am just starting out in the world of kink, the world of sex really.  Technically, I have been having sex for a decade, but I feel like I have only just started to discover what sex can be.  What my body (and mind) is capable of.

I am wildly in love with this exploration, but I have my moments of doubt, of pain, of fear and anxiety.  I am always reading blog posts on the transcendent moments of kink and BDSM.  I am just starting to appreciate these moments.  But, the bad, sad and just plain strange moments seem just as important to me as the transcendent moments right now.

So, I don't see myself doling out expert advice on this blog.  But, for reasons I don't yet understand, I want to talk about these starting out moments.  And, well, there is just not a lot of opportunity for that in my daily life. So, Hi, Internet! Welcome to my sex life!

Thursday, May 27, 2010


He is on top of me and inside of me.  Pinning my wrists to the bed with his hands.

"Who's slut are you?"



The slap stings my face.  I am surprised, caught off guard. He's never hit my face before. 

"Wrong answer, slut.  Try again.  Who's slut are you?"



The other side this time.  I'm not that dense.  I know what he wants, but I'm not ready to give it to him.  I want him to force it out of me. 

"Who's slut are you?"



We go on like this for awhile.  I am fascinated by the sensation.  It stings.  In the instant of impact it hurts, but the pain fades quickly.  Mostly I am fascinated by the look on his face as he hits me.  He's irritated that I either can't or won't understand what he wants from me, but he's not motivated by anger.  He's completely in control of himself.  He likes slapping me.  Likes watching me flinch and gasp.

A half dozen repetitions and the blows start coming harder.  My eyes start to water. 


I've had enough now. 

"Who's slut are you?"

"Yours, sir."

He made me really mean it.

A few days later he puts me on my plane, and I touch the faint bruise on my left cheekbone and smile as I watch his city sprawl out underneath me.  I may not be the type to call a man "Master" and worship at his feet, but I do love those moments when my lover makes me completely forget myself.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


I have never been a very forward person.  I think it would even be fair to call me shy.  But, lately I have been taken with the idea of keeping a personal blog, a very personal blog.  A sex blog to be exact.

Most of the time I feel like my sex life is more or less mundane.  I've never been to an orgy, had a lesbian encounter, or even had a hot, sweaty grope session in the back seat of a car.

On the other hand, I have been tied to a cross, stripped naked and flogged in front of an appreciative audience.  I am a dues paying member of my local BDSM club.  And, my partner and I are wading our way through the aftermath of my semi-recent realization/confession that I have never really believed in monogamy/I am getting another boyfriend right now.

There are many reasons to keep a blog.  Narcissism, for one. Why else record a public log of your sexual encounters?  I have no pat answers for that.  Perhaps I am a narcissist.  Or, perhaps I have tapped into a latent strain of exhibitionism that I never knew I possessed.   Mostly, I would like to think it could be fun.