According to Alabama Code, Section 13A-6-60, “Deviate Sexual Behavior” is defined as, “Any act of sexual gratification between persons not married to each other involving the sex organs of one person and the mouth or anus of another.”
The reason, of course, for making such consensual sex illegal is to target members of the LGBT community, since Alabama and most Red States dwell in the God-fearing, fear-mongering, guilt-swilling Bible Belt. In fact, other media outlets have claimed this is a victory for “gay sex”.
But hold on, there, sparky! I guess no one realized that unmarried hetero couples also partake of oral sex and anal sex as alternatives to or in prelude to vaginal penetration … such as when a hetero couple doesn’t want to get pregnant, or maybe the woman is in those six weeks after giving birth when the vagina is off-limits to the guy’s penis? Or hey, maybe they just LOVE oral or anal sex?! Quelle surprise!
With oral sex and anal sex being decriminalized, it means Alabama is one step closer to acknowledging grown, consenting adults’ basic human right to do what they want in bed.
America is coming around, albeit slowly, to the fact that sex between consenting adults is no concern of government or religious busy-bodies.
- Contact Trish for a consult
- Sign up for the ArousedWoman newsletter
- Take the ArousedWoman Orgasm Questionnaire
Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
*Read Part 1.*
The fourth time with the new toy was a mixed, weird, confusing experience. Suffice it to say, this guy requires lube — lots of lube. I had already done a blended orgasm with my new glass toy (more on that later) to prime my vaginal opening, get the juices flowing, start stretching the vaginal muscles inside, etc. As before, the head took a couple of tries to fully enter, and as the head/corona passed my prostate, I felt a slight sting, but it wasn’t as bad as the first few times. I thought, “Great, I’m adjusting to him.” Then feeling the shaft enter, I was breathless again at the feeling of being so very filled and stretched.
Since I’d started my session early, around 10:30 a.m., I felt no rush to finish with Bob. In fact, over the next couple of hours, I would do a round of sliding him in and out slowly for about 15 minutes, then pull him out, and relax in a blissful stupor for another 20 to 30 minutes, having nipple orgasms, sheet orgasms, clit and spontaneous O’s, then I’d reach for Bob again for another slow and easy go of it.
Each time, I did not bring myself to climax with Bob, just enjoyed the orgasms from the slow and steady pace and the occasional hard and fast thrusting and pulling out to float in that bliss for a while, then starting it all over again.
Around 2 p.m., I began again, knowing I was wet from the other orgasms, I didn’t lube Bob this time. I noticed, he wasn’t moving as smoothly as he had before. I needed some lube. Then Stupid Me showed up and totally screwed this whole experience up. The feelings in my vagina were the same as when I endured friction sex while married. Though my ex-Asshole isn’t nearly this wide, he hated me getting too wet. This dry, friction feeling was then “familiar,” and being a little lazy, I thought I’d just put up with it because I really wanted the great orgasms I’d had the other few times with this toy.
Every time Smart Me said, “Man, I need lube,” Stupid Me overruled that inner voice with, “You put up with it when you were married, put up with it now and finish.” As the friction got to be too much, Smart Me won the debate, and I put a little bit of lube on the toy and re-inserted. I felt immediate stinging, more stinging, then being filled by the shaft, and then a surge of heat — not in a good way. I continued on, now that he was properly lubed, imagining my Dream Man, and long story short, I finished. Yes, the orgasm was great… but it was… weird… but it was beautiful… but weird.
I felt a strange emotion — yes, I cried, but there was something else. During that last bit, I had a realization of just what this toy represented for me. The images and feelings conjured during this session were so intensely powerful, I instantly knew who he was. The experience had become emotional during the session, and now, afterward, I wanted to give him a name, a sacred name. And I did. And I cried some more. I lay there for a while in my reverie, feeling a new awareness of completeness.
Knowing I needed to get up, I realized my fingers felt a bit strange, so I looked at them. My hands were covered in blood. I wasn’t on my period. I looked at the toy, and he was bloody, too. I got up and went to the bathroom and opened my legs up to the full-length mirror. My labia and thighs were bloody, and I had an immediate flashback to when I was raped at 21, after which I bled for 4 days. I remembered a couple other times I bled a little after friction sex.
As it so happened with this fourth time with this toy, I bled that night and the next day, but that was it. I have not noticed any blood or change in vaginal discharge. I never felt any pain, aside from the uncomfortableness in the moment of the “friction sex” before I re-lubed the toy.
In fact, in the couple days since, today now being 03-03-13, I have enjoyed all my usual orgasms and my new gentle-touch prostate orgasms. Everything is functioning perfectly.
Which leads me to an esoteric interpretation… In the very emotional moments of that last part of the session, I had a very clear vision of my Dream Man. He was absolutely clear to me. He is a feeling and an energy. I knew him so well, I called him a sacred name for the very first time, and I subsequently bestowed that name on the toy who is his physical representation for me.
Blood has a life force. Blood used to be an important part of rituals and taking oaths. To this day, Christians symbolically ingest the blood of Jesus when they participate in the ritualized cannibalistic practice of Communion/Eucharist. As a pagan witch, considering who and what this energy/feeling began to represent — my Dream Man, I’m not surprised that blood would have manifested as a sort of initiation with this new, clear vision — a consummation, as it were.
And yes, I know I sound crazy — I’m an artist, I always sound a bit crazy. Most people are so keyed in to the physical side of sex or climax, they miss subtleties of energy or awakenings that may be present. This vision I saw is no different than imagining a scene in one’s mind to help the arousal process along, but the difference here is that he appeared to me, and I knew him instantly.
Esoteric interpretations aside, I will have to see how using “Bob” (no, that’s not his sacred name!) goes tomorrow or the next day. I did not bleed the other 3 times, so I’m hoping that with plenty of lube, Bob and I will be hunky-dorey in our future rendezvous sessions.
Seriously, though, this experience was powerful for me, and though the blood had me a bit worried for that day, I’m hoping it was just a fluke… or an initiation.
Aroused and pondering the possibilities,
As my fingertips parted the opening of my vagina for the entry of the afternoon tampon, I had a sudden flashback to the days when I had sex — with that asshole husband of mine. So I’m slightly hormonal right now. I could really use a hug — and my pizza — if the fucking pizza guy would fucking hurry up and fucking deliver my fucking pizza already! And there’s no reason for this post except that I — Oh, brownies!
Where was I?
Oh, yes, fingers — vagina — tampon……
One of the great things about having spontaneous and stealth orgasms is that I no longer have to fight the urge to clit stim an O while I’m on my period. Sure, sex and masturbating while on my period are fun — a little slippery and messy, but doable with a towel and the understanding that the cervix is tender so hard fucking probably isn’t gonna happen — sorry, guys, will have to be * s l o w * sex, which means it probably will be emotional. That’s not a problem is it? Is it?! IS IT?! — What? They don’t do that in porn??? FUCK PORN!
Okay, so most women will not admit to masturbating with a tampon in, but let’s just assume that at least once in her life, a woman has.
Where is that fucking pizza?!
So I have this flashback to this time (one of several) when I was on top and his hands went from my hips to maneuvering a not so subtle reach-around where his fingertips parted my vaginal opening so he could come inside. I didn’t say anything at the time — I should have — but not only does that feel WEIRD, it can also kinda hurt. ASSHOLE!
Here’s the thing… My vagina is smarter than you.
My vagina is an amazing world that still astounds me. She has her own fauna and flora system, her own pH, her own nerve system that bypasses the spinal cord and plugs directly into the brain, is capable of several different kinds of orgasms, different kinds of lubricating fluids, and she’s just fun to play in.
However…. if the vagina isn’t ready for sex — fully, completely ready for sex — she will not be fully open. A vagina that is truly ready for insertion will be literally O P E N — regardless if the insertible is a penis, sex toy, finger, or oblong vegetable! The juices will be flowing, the tissues of the labia and the vagina swollen with arousal, and the opening of the vagina can even be slightly turned outward toward the insert-er as if to say, “My vagina says YES! Come on in!”
Bear in mind that for many women those bits of odd-shaped edges at the vaginal opening are actually the remnants of the hymen. As such, they don’t have any means of getting wet on their own. This is an excellent example of trickle-down lubrication. Vaginal fluid is clear and most easily created by stimulation of the A-Spot near the cervix. The prostate also creates fluid, but it is thicker and less slippery than the clear vaginal fluid. These fluids have to literally “trickle down” to the opening of the vagina in order for the opening to be lubricated as well. So splitting the vaginal opening with the tip of a finger, penis, toy, or cucumber when the vagina is NOT ready for sex can be awkward for the woman, if not downright PAINFUL.
So guys, please… “Foreplay” actually has a function. Foreplay does not exist to make the guy wait to come inside. Without foreplay or some kind of stimulation that really gets the vagina hot and bothered, the beginning of sex can be painful. (And you perhaps wonder why a woman is a “cold fish” during sex???!!! Just “lays there”????!!! Well, that happens when your body radiates with pain, asshole!)
Just 15 to 30 minutes of breast worship, sensual massage, yoni puja, and/or cunnilingus will do just fine. The time required will depend on the woman, but since, statistically, the average guy only lasts 2 minutes once he’s inside, I’d think you men would want to drag out the foreplay as much as possible, too.
Please note, however, that a little fluid at the gates doesn’t mean the whole vagina is ready. For me, a few quick stealth O’s only takes seconds to experience, and I can feel the rush of fluid press against the opening tissues. I part the opening carefully with my fingertips — with very short, trimmed nails, thank you! I feel the texture of the fluid and know what kind of fluid it is — usually clear, vaginal. But just being wet doesn’t mean my vagina’s ready for my purple silicone friend, Sparkles.
Men, I love you. Honest. And because you love us, do your woman a favor. Just because you’re ready to come inside doesn’t mean her vagina is ready for company. Enjoy the rest of her — her body, her mind, her sense of humour, her emotions, her humanity — and remember that the woman is more than just a warm, wet respite for your erection.
Fuck… I’ll just make Chess Chewies.
Aroused and opening,
In the South we like to eat a dessert called by various versions of the name, “Chess Pie.” As with most dishes, the recipe is slightly different depending on the region you’re in, but mostly it’s a very sweet dessert. Where I come from, we call it “Chess Chewies” because it’s baked in a 9″ x 13″ cake pan rather than a pie plate and cut into small “bars” rather than wedges.
The recipe I was taught only has 5 ingredients: yellow cake mix, melted butter, eggs, softened cream cheese, and a criminal amount of confectioner’s sugar. When people ask for the recipe, I tell them the 5 ingredients. They look perplexed. “It can’t really be that simple,” they are thinking as they take another bite, smushing it around in their mouths to masticate every morsel and decipher the hidden riddle of flavor I must be keeping from them. Invariably, they ask me if there’s lemon in it. No. Coconut? No. Pineapple? Nope. Such is the mysterious, sweet, but rich flavor profile of Chess Chewies… as I make them anyway.
Recently, I experienced quite a surprise while playing in my vagina.
Because I’m obsessed with vaginal health, I frequently do finger checks of my lady’s loins. Working from home, I can wash off after going to the bathroom so I’m in a constant state of fuckability. And if I get the urge, I’ll do a finger check then to see what’s happening inside during the daytime. In the shower each night, I do a check to make sure the vaginal fluids and prostate fluids look and smell right. *** I only use my finger inside my vagina — A clean finger and water — that’s it! NEVER soap or ANY cleanser! And I NEVER douche! ***
Vaginal fluid is clear and slick, but prostate fluid is creamy/opaque and can seem a little sticky. (I would say it’s actually more “tacky” feeling than sticky, but I don’t want people to think my vagina is tacky. She’s beautiful! :) ).
Anyhoo, I’m well acquainted with the look, smell, viscosity, and taste of my fluids during the day, at nighttime, during arousal, and after orgasm… and yes, there is a difference in both fluids depending on the kind of orgasm and how many I’ve had. I can’t describe the smell, per se, I guess you just have to know what a happy, healthy vagina smells like — I wouldn’t call it “earthy” and certainly not “musky” (who thought that name up anyway?!). But it is definitely my smell, and I love it.
Best of all, I love holding my hands over my nose after I’m done with orgasms and just inhaling the scent which is even more complex because of how I use my hands during the arousal process.
I’ll start with my right hand on my clit, dipping a finger just inside the inner labia to moisten and go back to the clit. Then I’ll finger inside to get the prostate and the “spots” warmed up. When I can feel the spots emerging from the vaginal walls and the prostate swelling and its texture changing from roughly smooth to more ridge-y, my right hand goes back to my clit or I’ll start massaging the inner labia with my fingertips. Eventually, when I’m ready to get this show on the road, my left hand goes inside to tend to my prostate and spots, while my right hand stays on the clit with long strokes or barely-there touch/circles. Occasionally, I’ll dip the right hand in again to get more fluids for the clit, and well, it feels good. :) But by that time, the in-and-out thrusting of my left hand is bringing plenty of fluid up to the surface for my right hand to coat my clit with.
I can feel the change in the fluids as they get thicker, heavier, and I can even smell them from there. As I near the first blended orgasm, I feel the clitoral cuff tighten (incredibly so! I almost can’t fit my two fingers in, but somehow I manage). And through the orgasms, the fluids keep coming, and I go until my hands simply can’t do anymore — my natural propensity is to bring my hands over my head during orgasm, so working my lady’s loins proves to be an enjoyable battle of wills between my hands that want to bring more orgasms and my mind that is too far gone to think logically and strategically about hand positions.
After the orgasms, my hands are covered in various states of vaginal fluids. The right hand has more of the pre-arousal and mid-arousal fluids and smells, while the left hand is saturated in arousal juices and the fluids that gushed from my vagina and prostate during the orgasms’ many contractions. Each hand smells differently and in different places — the palms smell different than my fingers. As I hold my hands up to my nose, covering my nose and mouth, I inhale deeply. I cannot believe how delicious this smells! Even better is the knowledge that no matter how many times I wash my hands that day, my orgasms will still be embedded in my skin, and I can revisit my orgasms in my memory by just holding my hands up to my nose and breathing in.
So recently, I have been having some interesting experiences with various styles of orgasm, and one day, about a month ago, I brought my hand up to my nose during the arousal phase, and recognized the smell instantly but it wasn’t a usual odor for my vagina. I did a double-take — or a double-whiff. And sure enough, I was smelling “Chess Chewies!” I’ve always loved how I smelled, and the Kama Sutra describes women’s vaginal and ejaculatory fluids as “sweet nectar of the gods,” but I never actually smelled like a dessert before.
I know that what you eat affects the smell of sexual fluids in both men and women. And I’ve been working hard to lose weight, so my food habits are a bit different. But to actually smell like Chess Chewies was awesomely weirdly awesome. I thought this must be a fluke — maybe that doughnut binge was seeping sugar into my vagina?! Except that this is what I have smelled like ever since — Chess Chewies!
The real test will come in a day or two. I started my period Wednesday, and here on Saturday, I’m on the last day of spotting. The smell is okay, but it’s metallic due to the blood. I can only hope that the dessert smell is a permanent fixture of my vagina. I mean, I already love her so much, can she possibly get any more incredible? I guess so!
And yes, the thought did cross my mind, that if I constantly taste and smell like dessert, my future partner won’t mind if I make hourly oral sex a rule of the relationship… Right???
Aroused and sweet,
- REGISTER for Tantra-based orgasm training
- Sign up for the ArousedWoman newsletter
- Take the ArousedWoman Orgasm Questionnaire