The Beautiful Kind

Tristan Taormino was in St. Louis a couple weeks ago promoting her new book, Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships. I was so excited to meet her in real life after admiring her for so many years for all her amazing sexpertise.

It was liberating sitting with the crowd that gathered to hear her read from her latest book. Cuz even though I am in a triad relationship, my man wants it closed. He doesn’t want us dating or exploring other people. But I do.

So I’ve felt guilty for having those desires, because they don’t match up to my current situation. In the past when I was swingle I was able to act on my curiosity and affection, and that felt natural to me. Beau thinks it’s unhealthy behavior. He has informed me on more than one occasion, “You know, you don’t HAVE to fuck all of your friends.”

Anyway, I felt normal and validated in her presence, surrounded by a crowd of mostly polyamorous and definitely open-minded folks. (I’ll have you know that I’ve only slept with six of the people who were there.) It was weird to be in a room full of people who have had threesomes, multiple girlfriends, or been to bath houses, and all of this is normal for them and can be discussed openly. It’s not a big secret! If I were to go up to any of them and announce, “I have a boyfriend AND a girlfriend,” I wouldn’t get nervous and envious looks. They wouldn’t bat an eye. They would say, “So? I do, too.” Wow.

So the book. I’m impressed. I’d say it’s a must-own, right up there with The Ethical Slut. An excerpt:

There’s a significant indicator that monogamous marriages and relationships are not working: cheating is epidemic. The 1953 Kinsey Study reported that 26% of wives and 50% of husbands had at least one affair by the time they were 40. Other studies followed, with similar findings. For those people who manage to avoid cheating (or being cheated on), there is still a general dissatisfaction with monogamous relationships. Complaints about being stuck in a rut abound. Lots of people seem pretty unhappy.

Like I’ve said in a previous comment on this blog, I’ve experienced cheating in every capacity, but I have never been cheated on. This is because I “allow” the men I’m with to explore other women. I think it’s natural. They tend to appreciate this freedom (A LOT), but for the most part they don’t allow me the same freedom. I find this annoying.

This book explores different options to monogamy. And what surprised me is that Tristan doesn’t just discuss swinging and polyamory. She offers six basic models of non-monogamy, and urges you to customize those models for what is right for you. This equals endless possibilities. Here are the basic styles:

• Partnered Nonmonogamy - a committed couple who want a relationship that is erotically nonmonogamous
• Swinging - nonmonogamy in a social context, a lifestyle
• Poylamory - more than one relationship that is sexual, loving, emotional
• Solo Polyamory - nonmonogamous people who don’t want a primary partner
• Polyfidelity - Three or more people who have made a commitment to be in a primary relationship
• Monogamous/Nonmonogamous Combo - One person is monogamous, the other is not

Do any of these styles appeal to you? Or is being monogamous the right choice for you? The book explores each of these options in depth, and is a huge resource for information. (Tristan continues to update her list of resources on her website here.)

Got this threadless shirt as a holiday gift…

Ah, I love a good whore story. They say that a memoir on prostitution only sells if it ends tragically, or, at the very least, with the woman realizing the error of her wicked ways. The book Callgirl by Jeannette Angell provides neither of these society-demanded conclusions, but instead offers a straightforward account of two years in the life of a woman who teaches at a university by day and caters to the sexual needs of horny men in Boston at night.

The book describes how she came to be a whore (an attractive woman who found herself in financial straits) what it was really like (eh, not so bad) and why she left the business (it was simply time to move on with her life.) It’s funny, written conversationally, and of course, due to all the sordid lives and dark and dirty secrets she gets to peep in on, fascinating.

The worst experience for her (even worse than the guy who tried to force anal on her) was the man who hired her to act like his mommy and talk to him as she sat in her underwear and put on her makeup, as if preparing to go out for the evening and leave him with a sitter. She found the situation profoundly depressing, a stark example of how fragile and emotionally fucked up men can be, but personally I would have liked that job. I would have gotten a kick out of playing Mommie Dearest.

The cool thing was, she was teaching a class on prostitution as she was a prostituting herself in real life. When one of her student’s parents had an issue with their daughter taking the class, she couldn’t help but wonder - how would they feel if they knew the class was being taught by an actual callgirl? Damn I love that ha-ha-little-do-you-know shit, just like how the guy working at Subway who wordlessly made your tuna sandwich today was wearing a butt plug and pink panties under his roast beef scented uniform.

Ladies, if you haven’t checked out the dated and over-the-top book The Satanic Witch, you totally should. Teaching the secrets behind seducing men and driving them crazy, it’s like a demonic version of The Rules.

The author, Anton LaVey, is a SCREAM (and also the founder of the Church of Satan). He instructs women on beguiling tricks such as how to dilate their eyes, and how to position their head depending on what kind of message they’re trying to convey (dom or sub).

He also suggests not washing so much, wearing ill-fitting clothes, and tucking a sachet scented with your menstrual blood in your bra when you’re trying to woo a man.

He encourages honing the art of hussy - flash deliberately, but make it look like an accident. Act like you don’t notice your bra strap hanging out. Sit in a short skirt in a way that makes it look like you think you’re covered, but in truth you know the angle is allowing the guy across the room to peep at your panties.

Here are some of his gems, some outrageous, some possessing a kernel of truth:

IN BEING A WOMAN YOU ARE DIFFERENT FROM A MAN AND THAT VERY DIFFERENCE MUST BE EXPLOITED!

No other organ has been so closely linked with the genitals as the eye. If you can read a person’s eyes, they are more naked before you than if you were to remove their clothes.

There are more men who are stimulated by the smell of urine than will ever admit to it.

Men who are dominant and masculine prefer sweet dressings such as French, Russian, 1000 Island. Women who are passive, submissive and feminine prefer Roquefort, bleu cheese, and oil and vinegar, as do males who are passive or gay.

Women like to be felt. Men like to feel. Don’t reverse the procedure, unless you use your feet or legs for contact.

ALL MEN HAVE A FETISH. THE TRICK IS FINDING OUT WHICH ONE THEY HAVE.

Wear the brightest, reddest lipstick you can find.

Remember, “cheap” is just another term for “available,” and every successful witch knows that available she is, but not to just anybody, and she seldom comes cheap.

Some of the best witches are prostitutes. It’s their job to attract men! They not only learn the little quirks that other women never see in men, but they must be able to dress, act and think outside their natural role.

The more experienced a woman appears, the more desirable she becomes. Very few men will be compelled towards virginity in a woman, except as a fillip to the ego.

I make SUCH a good witch.

My beau and I are slowly making our way towards getting me tied up good and proper.

We got this book by “Fetish Diva” Midori, Ambassador to Kinky Pleasures, on Japanese bondage so we can read up on things to ensure we don’t cut off the circulation in my hands or strangle me (he’s not into necrophilia at all.)

The book takes you step-by-step through the most popular bondage positions you’ll see on the internet using photos and line drawings, but the best part is the prose that precedes each instruction that sets the scene and lets you get into the head of the “top” (doing the tying) or the “bottom” (being tied up). I have zero interest in tying my guy up, and am most interested in being used as an object of beauty by someone I trust, so it’s fun to read what the other person might be feeling, both perspectives. Really, it’s quite sweet.

For instance:

She is the beautiful kind. As I admire her, the vision of her bound body forms in my mind. The patterns emerge. With each length of the rope I am wrapping myself around her. The rope is the extension of my desire, lust and love for her. I see the lines sink into her curves. For a moment, as I gaze upon her, it’s me that is sinking into her flesh…

He watches me as I writhe in the ropes, feeling secure in them, feeling them gently dig into my skin. I feel the slow pressure on my pulsing clit. It makes me squirm even more. With every move I’m aware of him, all around me, as I swoon in his rope embrace. How easily he moves me! He pushes me off center, then back, assuring me of his control and my safety. I surrender further under his protective power…

And of course the book is done in a politically correct way with different body shapes and types represented. It’s interesting how the pics of the men tied up don’t excite me the way the pics featuring women do. And the tips are great, such as the suggestion to apply a vibrator to the ropes themselves, so the person tied up can feel the vibration being conducted along the tense ropes, setting more areas of the body afire. Can’t wait!

I guess I’m not the only one who gets aroused around books.

There was a funny article published recently on a local news channel website about how St. Louis libraries are infested with perverts. My mom told me about how forty years ago she caught some guy looking up her skirt when she worked at a library. Some things never change (well I doubt anyone would be too interested to look up my mom’s skirt these days.)

Men are passing teenagers lewd notes, flashing patrons in line, jacking off at computers…

An excerpt from the article:

In June 2006 at the main St. Louis County Library branch on South Lindbergh, it was about 3 p.m. when a library worker made this report: “…man at the Internet masturbating ….”

Webster Groves Police Chief Dale Curtis, the head of the St. Louis County Police Chiefs’ Association, said that if the suspect is doing something like that in the library there’s a “good chance” he’s doing it someplace else.

Ya think?! And hello, why is this article, dated July 2007, trying to suggest this is a recent shocking problem when it has to dig back more than a year for examples of indecency? Another funny bit:

Durnell said that even though libraries are full of great literature, you can’t let your guard down. He said a library is a public place and no different than a mall. He also said if you take you kids to the library, keep an eye on them, be careful and don’t leave them unattended for long.

For long?! C’mon, how long does it take to flash someone? I’m almost as annoyed with the people who compiled and supplied information for this article as I am for the men behaving like animals. A library isn’t a petting zoo, geez. Too bad these Gropey Guses can’t keep their dirty thoughts in their head like I do.

I’m reading a book called She’s Not There, a college professor’s memoir of what it’s like to be transgendered. Born a man, Jennifer Boylan felt female since pre-kindergarten, and at age 40 finally decided to make the official transition from male to female. Needless to say, this was difficult for her wife. An excerpt:

As a man, my sex drive frequently resembled a monologue by a comic book hero succumbing to an evil spell. “Must - have! Must! Trying - to - resist! Getting harder to- Must have! Can’t - resist!”

I’d been driven to such a delirium not only by the sight of breasts, but by the suggestion of breasts, even by the theory of breasts.

Now, when I looked at my own breasts, I had a simple sensation of, Well - there they are. My friend asked me, “What’s it like? What’s it like to have boobs?”

“It’s not like anything, ” I simply said. “They’re just there.”

He shook his head. “Man, you are turning into a woman. One thing about women, they have no idea how interesting their tits are. They don’t think they’re all that remarkable at all. I mean, when I’m with girls sometimes I just want to say, How can you concentrate on anything, looking like that?

“Sorry,” I said. “They’re great, but you know. The world doesn’t revolve around breasts.”

“Listen to you!” He shouted. “Of course the world revolves around breasts! What else would it revolve around?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Like maybe the sun?”

He looked at me as if I was a stranger. “The sun, yeah, right.” He sighed. “I wish you could hear yourself.”

“Sorry dude,” I said. “There are more important things in the world than breasts.”

My friend looked regretful.

“What?” I said.

“I’m trying to think of something more important than breasts.”

“How about family? Children? Relationships? Good health?”

“Traitor,” he said.

Keep books on feminism in your bedroom. First of all, it’s very sexy to have books in the bedroom. But if you have books like this and you and your date are lounging around and she starts perusing your shelf, she will get hot and want to fuck you in an egalitarian (or not so!) fashion.

PS: It helps to have actually read the books.

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death takes two of my favorite things and combines them - dollhouses and true crime. Frances Glessner Lee, a rich grandma, built miniature death scenes for the local police department as a teaching tool. These little houses have blood splattered on the walls and girl dolls thrust headfirst under the frozen running water, stiff legs in the air.

Lee knit stockings with needles the size of straight pins, and constructed tiny nooses. Most of the items in the dollhouses are actually functional - the pencils can write, the knives can stab…

Many of the scenes portray adultery gone wrong, such as the log cabin scene, where a man is found facedown, a gun, his hat, and cigarettes scattered around his body. Did his lover do it, or was it suicide?

Some people speculated that Lee took her dislike of women out on her dolls by “murdering” them. So odd that she spent HOURS working on these models, a rich woman recreating lower class tragedies in miniature. A crush she had on a charming young medical examiner is what inspired her to follow her tiny life of crime.

Though she went through life eschewing religion, towards the end, Lee converted to Catholicism.

Got soul? Mary Roach tries to figure this one out in her book, Spook. She looks into many scientific studies of the afterlife, and so far, despite a lot of gruesomeness, no research has indicated that we do anything else except stop being when we die. Poof.

Reincarnation - Back when my daughter was a baby, I got excited when she started talking about her “other family” - the one where her dad drove a truck and she had siblings. But nothing really came of it, and she eventually stopped talking about it. This sort of thing happens frequently in India - a kid starts talking about his old family two villages over. But it’s difficult to gather good evidence on this, (is the child amorously eying the attractive widow he supposedly left behind in a past life enough proof?) so it’s still inconclusive.

Weighing the Soul - Scientists have tried weighing the soul of men, dogs, sheep, mice… It was a guy testing this out on people dying of TB that came up with the theory that a human soul weighs 21 grams, but that was only one example out of six he got to convince to die on a scale. The others had things happen like someone bumping the scale and messing things up (”Crap, can you please die again? We goofed.”) And not much has come from people drowning mice and trying to capture their breath and killing a bunch of sheep (some actually gained a few ounces upon death.)

Near Death Experiences - It looks as though being sliced open and having your oxygen intake toyed with can cause one to see white lights, feel like they’re floating outside their body, and hallucinate about departed loved ones. Still, there have been some pretty interesting cases, like the woman who could describe the odd instrument used on her despite her eyes being taped shut and her flat EEG, or the woman who described a shoe lying on a ledge outside the hospital building she saw when she floated away from the scene of people trying to resuscitate her.

Sigh. As much as I want to believe in the spooky stuff, the older I get, the more I begin to realize I’m more suited for Skeptic than Coast to Coast.

PS: Ooh, I KNEW I was onto something by reading Mary Roach! Her next book out (Fall 2007) is about the physiology of SEX.

The other day I went over to my parent’s and saw the St. Louis County Coroner’s Records, 1826-1873 lying on the kitchen table. I filched it and took a lookie.

Not only was it interesting to read the names of the deceased (Abram, Asunder, Maven) and places of death (Des Peres pond seemed to be the hip place to fling yourself in despair back then) but check out some of these causes of death in the good ol’ days:

visitation of God

incautious use of gunpowder in driving out mosquitoes

unknown man - unknown; nothing found except bones, vest, shoes and tress

infant female body found in a privy

voluntarily swallowing arsenic while laboring under a state of mental derangement

convulsion and neglect from an idiotic mother

A while back I posted something about a book called Carnival Strippers.

I’ve continued to pore over it. Not only is it full of fascinating fodder for discussion on gender differences, class, and exploitation, but it was only when I got to the end of the book that I realized it came with a CD. The CD allows you to hear some of the interviews in their own voices, which breathes even more life and humanity into the stories. Like this one, told by Mitzi the stripper:

This bitch - she had bleached hair, war paint, and needed a touch-up more than any of us - said we strippers shouldn’t be located next to a kiddie merry-go-round. She said, “I’m a mother,” and I grabbed the mike and I said, “I’m a mother myself.”

These people make you seem like you’re a cheap whore. I hate to go out with a guy, the first thing he does is try to get into your pants. That turns me off. I mean at least take me out for a few drinks, get me drunk or something so you can say you took advantage.

This guy I went out with last night, we’re sittin’ at the drive-through two shows before he even put his arm around me. I said, “My God, what’s wrong.” If they don’t try something, you feel bad.

A friend lent me an intriguing photo essay book called Lapdancer by Juliana Beasley. The photographer is a dancer who interviews patrons, bouncers, and other dancers, gathering different perspectives in an attempt to satisfy questions such as: What kind of person would engage in this type of eroticism? Naturally, reading the essays only leads to more questions.

The photos accurately capture the sleazy enviro, and it’s interesting how the author lines up several images of patron’s pimply, sullen faces in a row, as if to suggest mug shots. The book ends with her account of the club where she worked getting raided, and all the dancers being charged with prostitution. Ironically, a bouncer comments in one of the essays:

I sit and see a girl in the lap dance room with a guy, and he’ll put like $1200 on his credit card. My question is, “Well Jesus, he’s there for all this while, why the hell doesn’t he just get an escort?” That’s the million dollar question. We often wonder that around here. Because I can speak for myself. If I was not married or I had problems with my wife, instead of coming here and spending $400-500 and then going home with a big old hard on, I would probably get an escort that’s kind of classy, and pay the $500 for I don’t know how long. And then I’m definitely going to get what I went there for.

That’s what I’m talking about - I think strip clubs are just big teases and not very sexy. The oddest thing I noticed as I read the book is that I kept forgetting that I have first hand experience on the subject. I had to keep reminding myself that I lapdanced years ago. I was probably trying to disassociate myself from the whole thing - the hustling, the groping, the regulars constantly trying to get you to meet them outside the club… Because yeah, the book accurately captured how depressing it all is - it’s the ultimate example of wanting what you can’t have, and settling for unsatisfying scraps.

A gritty book called Carnival Strippers features photos and interviews of women who performed striptease for small town carnivals in New England from 1972-1975.

Excerpts:

Shortie, stripper - Before I came into this, I never drank a bit. Now I think I’m a fucking alcoholic. I know for a fact I am. I need at least a pint to get me started out there. Everybody says, “You’ll be an alcoholic before you be a stripper.”

I’m an alcoholic. I can dig it. I’m an alcoholic.

and

Lisa, stripper - Honey Holiday taught me to strip. She showed me a life. She told me, “Lisa, when go on the stage, think to yourself, ‘I’m it- I’m the greatest person there is. I’m the best stripper there is, there’s nobody better,’ and you’ll put on a good show.” She said, “Don’t be scared. You’ve taken your clothes off before - maybe not in a theater in front of a bunch of people - but you’re getting paid for doing it.” The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

One last stop in Alton before hitting the fabulous Beall Mansion Bed & Breakfast - The Hayner Children’s Library. Just look at the place - they took a church and converted it into something USEFUL - stocking it with a huge array of books and media. It’s beautiful, with cathedral wood-beamed ceilings and a green glaze tile fireplace, and smells so good - like a university library. I was totally turned on.

And best of all, there were no kids there, so the place was quiet, serene, and I could sit and flip through the books in peace, as well as stare at the gangly teenage boys in button down shirts as they unsmilingly shelved carts of books. I wonder what they do for fun in this small town when they’re not working in a children’s library, what music they listen to in order to get the quiet out of their heads…

In Alton, Illinois, there’s a used bookstore called Second Reading Book Shop. The place’s most remarkable features are the proprieter, John Dunphy, and his two bookstore cats. The place smells like it has bookstore cats, and John is a total trip.

As soon as I walked in, he promoted his slim volumes of poetry. In general, poetry scares me, especially the poetry of someone alive and standing in front of me, so I politely acknowledged the fact that he is indeed published and made my way into the stacks. Um, some of the books were more like Fourth Reading After Being Dropped in the Toilet, but hey, it added character. And mold.

John turned his attention to Brisket, the cat pictured. He announced it was time for her brushing. He rolled around on the floor with her for several minutes, cooing and baby talking, “Oh yes Miss Brisk, does that hit the spot? Daddy’s doing the best he can, Miss Brisk! You are a very demanding kitty! Yes, I will try harder. No, I won’t brush you all day Miss Brisk, Daddy has work to do! There, your coat is all shiny now!”

He called over to me from the floor to make sure and buy something, since it would benefit the cat children. I couldn’t bring myself to buy his book of poetry, and I passed on a 1940’s copy of The Trials and Tribulations of Mr. Bowser since it was falling apart, but got a book on magic ghost tricks for kids instead. And then I vanished, poof!

When I first heard Ariel Levy, author of Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture, on NPR, I thought oh geez she wouldn’t like me much (Panty Parade, anyone?) She takes issue with women who run around wearing Playboy necklaces and going to strip clubs and posing nude as a way of “empowering” themselves. She sees it more as “exploiting” themselves, and here’s why: she thinks they’re doing it for the wrong reasons. They should be doing it for their own sexual pleasure and satisfaction, but Levy believes it’s more about keeping up with the boys, more of a power thing, a pleasing men thing, more of a defeated, “if you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em” mentality. An excerpt from her book as an example:

In Jenna Jameson’s bestselling book How to Make Love Like a Porn Star, Jameson writes, “Though watching porn may seem degrading to some women, the fact is it’s one of the few jobs for women where you can get to a certain level, look around, and feel so powerful, not just in the work environment but as a sexual being. So, fuck Gloria Steinem.”

One has to wonder how she puts it together this way. If she feels so powerful as a sexual being, why can’t she watch her own sex scenes? If her work environment is so satisfying, why does she say that if she had a daughter she would lock her in the house before she’d let her get involved in the sex industry? Why does she refer to her vagina as a “ding-ding”? I’m not sure any of this is Gloria Steinem’s fault.

I couldn’t agree more. My main mission of this website is to educate the masses, to let them know there are women like me out there, and to let other women know it’s OK to take ownership of their sexuality. So many women cheat themselves out of pleasure due to insecurity or guilt-inducing societal expectations. And if they do act on their sexuality, it’s more of a front or for other people and not themselves. Don’t forget one of the most important (and to me, the most obvious) reasons to partake in sex: your own pleasure.

My friend S borrowed a book from me to take on his annual pilgrimage to high scale brothels in Germany, where men from all over the world lounge about in a Greco-Roman-themed environment, with pools, saunas, masseuses, and pay for sex with exotic European, Asian, and Latin American women who are trying to escape third world living conditions.

It always amuses him when a woman walks up to him as he’s reading in the lounge, admonishing him in her native tongue, “This is a brothel, NOT a library!”

Anyway, it was a light read, so he still had time to have relations with eight of the women and is back in town and returned the book to me. So if you want a turn next to borrow a copy of Little Children that has been in a German brothel and has seen more excitement than you have, let me know. (Incidentally, this is one of the only books I know where the movie cover version is better than the original paperback version.)

- To have a partner who belongs to the same book club as me.

- Taking turns reading out loud to each other before having amazing sex and falling asleep cuddlestyle.

- Having a late dinner on book club nights.

- Going to the bookstore together on cold, dark evenings and having hot chocolate.

- Making out in the stacks of the library, public or university.

- Exploring an independent bookstore in a different town.

- Spending a day at New York City’s legendary Strand bookstore.

- Dedicating my first book to my lover.

Check out Babes With Books.

I’m reading this fascinating book about sperm by an evolutionary biologist named Robin Baker. I never thought about how “dirty” a word sperm is, until I began reading it over and over. I don’t get used to it; happily, it still feels thrillingly naughty each time.

I’m not the only one who thinks this way. Baker was interviewed on several radio stations when the book came out, and he was instructed to not use the word sperm in his interviews. !! More than once the interview had to be cut short and music played to fill in the gap. I mean come ON, that’s like discussing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and not being able to mention the word chocolate!
According to Baker:

- Men can change the content of their semen as quickly as they can deduce whether they will ejaculate inside a woman or finish themselves off by masturbating. They can unconsciously control the amount of egg-getting sperm, fighter sperm, or guard sperm, to name a few.

- Men can also adjust the number of sperm in their ejaculate based on when they last had sex with their partner. If they haven’t had sex in a week, they’ll have around 500 million sperm in their semen. If they haven’t had sex in three days, they’ll have 300 million; three hours, 30 million. The aim is to “top off” their partner and ensure she has a certain amount of semen in reserve inside her in case another man’s sperm is introduced. Then he’ll have a microscopic army inside her ready to fight a sperm war.

- Men masturbate in secret so that those around them won’t know how aggressively fertile they are. Masturbating doesn’t waste sperm per se, it actually enables the man to reload with fresher, younger, healthier sperm.

- One of the most common things a woman looks for on a man to know if he might be a good person to breed with is his ass. “The best indication of a man’s health and hormones is the ratio between his waist and buttocks. Ideally, they should both measure nearly the same.”

- We have oral sex as a way of testing our partner for health and infidelity.