Jake drove me into the desert to fuck me. I’m not sure why. I would have fucked him anywhere. But we were talking, and somehow it came up that I liked the desert. We had been flirting at school and at the bar for a few weeks. He had broken up with Miranda, this tiny Japanese girl with blue eyes and a meth habit.
I’d gone over to Jake’s apartment once. We played Nintendo and joked around a little bit. He didn’t try to kiss me or anything.
That night, it must have been after some party because I remember I was wearing a dress with stockings, he said “let’s go to the desert.” … Continue Reading
Anyone who has read Guts by Chuck Palahniuk knows that things can end very badly when we don’t carefully consider the risks of exercising our proclivities. But just in case you didn’t get the lesson (or you fainted during one of Palahniuk’s infamous readings of the story), we have some more gruesome tales for you, fresh from ER gossips around the country. … Continue Reading
“As you know, California is an all-party consent state,” I say, putting the iPhone on the table. The banter around me dies down immediately. “I’m going to take the lack of screaming as consent. If you speak from this point on, you’re consenting to being recorded. All right, let’s hear that story.”
“What story?” Daniel* asks innocently. He takes a sip of his drink and begins: “We met on a cruise. It’s what I call a vacationship. The vacationship that went way too far. We went on a cruise to Bermuda in June, spent seven days together and stayed in touch over the summer. I spent the summer on the East Coast, so I’d drive to see her and we’d be involved. Sexually — if I need to announce that for the microphone.” … Continue Reading
I returned to one of my former stomping grounds, San Francisco, for my first Folsom Street Fair since I “came out” as a kinkster. I lived in S.F. in the early- to mid-80′s and remember going to one of the very first Folsom Street fairs. Back then, it was a small, neighborhood affair, with a strictly hardcore gay leather crowd. As jaded as I was, it was shocking to see all those bare man asses and cocks hanging out right there in public, in broad daylight! … Continue Reading
As the saying goes, it was the chase that thrilled her. The locking of eyes across a darkened room. A haze of sweat and cigarette smoke.
She enjoys a slow seduction. A rhythm that swells and retreats with the quickening and softening of heartbeats. The pulse of an evening. This one was a child, really. A man in years only. Full of his own estimations. He was ripe for instruction. … Continue Reading
A week ago a Twitter user asked the perennial question, “Jackie or Marilyn?” Would you rather be the elegant, stylish idol Jackie O, or sexpot goddess Marilyn Monroe? (For the younger generation, Team Jennifer or Angelina?) Virgin/slut, wife/mistress, girlfriend/hook-up, whatever paradigm you use to explain the roles available to women in society. They always boil down to good girl versus bad girl. Which one are you? An even better question, which one would you be?* … Continue Reading
The door closes behind him. Her skin is still warm. His retreating footsteps beat a rhythm and she sings to it softly, tracing a line from hip to breast with her fingertips. His favorite bit of her, he says.
Brief, fleeting, fervent, she loves him in three hour intervals that begin and end with the rhythm of steps. In one direction and then in the other. He is not like the rest. … Continue Reading
That Steam allows the objectification and sexualization of female characters in a variety of its games but refuses to accept a game about actually engaging with women in a more interactive fashion is astonishingly backward.
That the site doesn’t take measures to protect user content and has shown incompetence or negligence in regard to user privacy, all the while prohibiting victims from warning others about predatory behavior creates an environment where it is nearly impossible for members of the community to take care of themselves and one another. By enabling FetLife to continue espousing a code of silence, allowing the spinning self-created security issues as “attacks,” and not pointing out how disingenuous FetLife statements about safety are, we are allowing our community to become a breeding ground for exploitation.
Should people who benefit (parents, siblings, children, roommates!) from the earnings of “commercial sex acts” (any sexual conduct connected to the giving or receiving of something of value) be charged with human trafficking? Should someone who creates obscene material that is deemed “deviant” be charged as with human trafficking? Should someone who profits from obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should people transporting obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should a person who engages in sex with someone claiming to be above the age of consent or furnishing a fake ID to this effect be charged with human trafficking? What if I told you the sentences for that kind of conviction were eight, 14 or 20 years in prison, a fine not to exceed $500,000, and life as a registered sex offender?
If you are a woman, you might be given a chance to prove yourself in this community. Since there is no standard definition of what a “geek” is and it will vary from one judge to the next anyway, chances of failing are high (cake and grief counseling will be available after the conclusion of the test!). If you somehow manage to succeed, you’ll be tested again and again by anyone who encounters you until you manage to establish yourself like, say, Felicia Day. But even then, you’ll be questioned. As a woman, your whole existence within the geek community will be nothing but a series of tests — if you’re lucky. If you aren’t lucky, you’ll be harassed and threatened and those within the culture will tacitly agree that you deserve it.
Zak’s original field, it turns out, is economics, a far cry from the hearts and teddy bears we imagine when we consider his nickname. But after performing experiments on generosity, Zak stumbled on the importance of trust in interactions, which led him, rather inevitably, to research about oxytocin. Oxytocin, you might remember, is a hormone that has been linked previously to bonding — between mothers and children primarily, but also between partners. What Zak has done is take the research a step further, arguing in his recent book, The Moral Molecule, that oxytocin plays a role in determining whether we are good or evil.
Let’s talk about the strippers. Whether they like to be half-naked or not, whether they enjoy turning you on or not, there’s one thing they all have in common: they’re working. Whether you think that taking one’s clothes off for money is a great choice of career is really beside the point (is it a possibility for you to make $500 per hour at your job without a law degree? Just asking). These women are providing fantasy, yes, but that is their job. And as a patron of the establishment where they work, you need to treat them like you would anyone else who provides a service to you.
Sex and the 405 is what your newspaper would look like if it had a sex section.
Here you’ll find news about the latest research being conducted to figure out what drives desire, passion, and other sex habits; reviews of sex toys, porn and other sexy things; coverage of the latest sex-related news that have our mainstream media's panties up in a bunch; human interest pieces about sex and desire; interviews with people who love sex, or hate sex, or work in sex, or work to enable you to have better sex; opinion pieces that relate to sex and society; and the sex-related side of celebrity gossip. More...