Category Archives: The human body
Random sex blog questions (and other questions)
Yesterday I told people to tweet me with any topics they wanted me to cover. The suggestions ranged from quite bizarre through really fucking bizarre to seriously interesting. I haven’t been able to tackle all of them in depth, because blimey there were a hell of a lot of them. If you’ve better answers than I have (and why wouldn’t you? I basically know nothing), then please do join in below the line. Some of these I might do more on later, because there are some really interesting topics here.
So here goes: a slightly weird meta-blog, in which we discuss everything from knickers to nearly injuring yourself during sex, and ponder the intensely philosophical question: why do most people think it’s OK to eat a pig, but not to fuck one?
In defence of 21 Grams – the dildo made of human ashes
Today, while the rest of the internet celebrates Ed Balls day, sex bloggers are instead faced with ‘why is everyone sending me pictures of a dildo made of human ashes?‘ Day.
In case you hadn’t already seen it RTd repeatedly with the comment ‘eww’, here’s a quick overview: 21 Grams is a memory box that allows a grieving person to collect together a bunch of intimate memories about their loved one. It contains speakers to play their favourite music (aww), a scent bottle for holding their loved one’s perfume (aww) and a blown glass dildo that contains a golden urn for their ashes (apparently, eww). The following quote is taken from the article above.
“21 Grams is a memory-box that allows a widow to go back to the intimate memories of a lost beloved one,” explained Sturkenboom [the designer]. “After a passing, the missing of intimacy with that person is only one aspect of the pain and grief. This forms the base for 21 Grams. The urn offers the possibility to conserve 21 grams of ashes of the deceased and displays an immortal desire.
“By bringing different nostalgic moments together like the scent of his perfume, ‘their’ music, reviving the moment he gave her her first ring, it opens a window to go back to moments of love and intimacy,” he said.
General content warning: this post contains a pretty frank and probably controversial discussion of sex and death.
What happens when you lose your virginity?
The evening I lost my virginity I lay awake in bed staring at the wall, willing myself to feel special. I assumed that with that magical penis-in-vagina moment, something fundamental about me would change. I couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly – I didn’t expect sparks, or revelations, or for the world to burst into glorious technicolour like it did in the Wizard of Oz. I just thought I’d feel… different.
I didn’t, and looking back at that moment as an adult that’s a blessed relief. Imagine if there really were a significant change bestowed upon someone just because they happened to have completed a particular sex act. If it shone out of them like a traffic light, blinking ‘green’ for ‘has fucked’. It’d be quite disturbing, not to mention really awkward over breakfast with your family.
Edging: the hotness of aching to come, and the moment you finally do
He sent me a picture of it once – swollen, bright red, and leaking a fat, shiny drop of pre-come. Skin so taut I could tell he’d been edging, even if he hadn’t told me. Seven days’ worth, if I remember correctly. Seven days of edging – touching it, stroking it, playing gently enough that he wouldn’t quite climax. Until the whole thing ached and he had to go to extreme lengths to get settled down before he had to leave the house. Digging fingernails into his thighs, cold water, that kind of thing…
Giving up bad sex habits
“What’s that?”
“A spreadsheet of my best wanking times.”
He didn’t even ask why. He just laughed, rolled his eyes, and then wandered into the kitchen to make coffee. But, for the record, I am compiling a spreadsheet of my wanking times, so that I can eventually graph the results and post a blog about it. Why?